#t;w cotton blood

[chibifox2002]

Someone get the sewing kit!

(thinking about my girl's biology and stuff again)

[springlockscars]

white cotton (w. afton/fem!reader)

pairing: william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: somnophilia, mutual masturbation, grinding, panties, clit rubbing, pussy rubbing, no penetration, (age gap, size kink, praise kink, panty kink) summary: william comes home from a hard day at work and just can't resisist the way you look sleeping in his bed, wearing cute little white panties. word count: 1,932 read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I was working on this, then I read this post by @dilfkiss and it just tipped me over the edge. enjoy! ♡

William comes home to find you asleep on his bed, only wearing one of his t-shirts that was permanently stained with machine oil no matter how many times he washed it, and a pair of simple white, cotton panties.

You told him you’d wait up for him when he called you from work on his lunch break. He told you all about how stressful today’s workload had been, “I’ll wait up for you… make you feel better when you come home,” you’d promised.

The clock on the nightstand glowing 11:49pm. William didn’t blame you for falling asleep. In fact, seeing you sprawled out on his sheets, so vulnerable…

Watching you sleep from the end of the bed he adjusted the tent in his trousers, the fabric straining against the zipper. William, deciding to disregard his arousal for now, perched carefully on the edge of the bed and leaned over you. He ghosted his fingertips over the soft skin of your outer thigh. You were warm underneath his touch.

Coming slightly closer, he dared to increase the contact with your skin. Smoothing his palm up and down your thigh, gently easing your legs open more and more as he went. He sighs at the feeling of your skin on his, touching you alone is enough to send his blood rushing south. William’s eyes are laser focused on the mound between your legs. All he can think of is touching you there, gathering your own arousal on his fingers, tasting you.

William crawls further up the bed towards you, movements reminiscent of a predator stalking its prey. He settles on his knees in between your open legs, resting both of his large hands on your hips and stroking across the hem of your panties that rests on your lower abdomen below your bellybutton.

You shift in your sleep, spreading your legs a little more and letting out a barely intelligible moan. Anyone else would’ve missed it, but William’s ears have become finely attuned to every single one of your little sounds. He runs his thumbs lower, pressing against the soft flesh hidden beneath the cotton. He smirks when he feels you twitch.

“Does that feel good, my little bunny?” voice low and husky.

William traces his middle finger down your clothed slit, a feather-light touch with his eyes locked on your face. His member throbbing inside his trousers when he sees your eyebrows scrunch together.

He smooths his palm against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, running it down your leg and stopping at your knee, he gently lifting your leg to prop it up on the bed and hold it there. This new position allowing him even more access to the prize he desires.

William rests his other hand right on top of your mound, thumb pressing, circling against your clit. Goosebumps spread all over your skin and your muscles twitch. While remaining completely asleep, your hips seem to move on their own accord as you press harder against William’s hand.

Your mouth falls open, breathing staggered. He lays down, chest flat against the bed and places a kiss to your core. William slides his thumb down against your covered slit again, lips curling into a grin when he sees your little panties darken in colour right over your entrance. You were wet for him. Becoming desperately aroused in your sleep.

Resuming his motions against your clit, he licks a stripe up and down, already able to taste you through the cotton. You shift and grasp the pillow by your head, the movements catching his attention and filling his chest with pride. With the sheets tangled in your hands you grind down further against the pressure of his tongue and fingers. The most delightful moans spilling from your pretty lips.

The texture of the fabric becomes smoother against William’s tongue, his own saliva mixing with your arousal to saturate it through to the point it clings to every dip and curve of your cunt. His tongue travels upwards to give the same attention to your clit, soaking the fabric there too. He can see the colour of your flesh through the material now.

William grinds his rock-solid cock against the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the tension. A low growl reverberates through his chest when it isn’t enough. It’s not you.

Placing one last kiss to your swollen clit through the fabric, he slides off the bed momentarily to free himself from the confines of his clothes. William’s throbbing member slaps his stomach as soon as he pulls off his underwear. He feels clammy all of a sudden, wrenching off his tie and shirt to join the other garments disregarded on the ground.

The cool night air caressing his naked, hot skin. He crawls back onto the bed and positions himself right between your legs. Taking his length which was already leaking pre-come in hand, he pumps it to the sight of you before him. Still sleeping soundly, only now more flushed and dishevelled than before.

William slides a thumb over his tip before pressing it right against your clothed cunt, it glides over your slick panties from entrance to clit.

A guttural moan escapes his lips, “fuck…”

He drags it back down, then presses again. Sliding up and down, up and down so deliciously over your slick, soaked panties.

Your hips twitch each time his bulbous head catches your clit, your breathing heavy, soft whimpers escaping your lips, hands twisting and grasping the sheets.

William, emboldened by his lust, grasps one of your thighs in his hand, pulling you down onto his cock as he uses your drenched core for his pleasure. His own breathing laboured as he thrusts against you.

You become acutely aware of your own arousal before you even open your eyes. Chills travel through your body despite feeling burning hot. You moan and attempt to twist your hips, not sure if you’re trying to move yourself away from or towards the stimulation.

When your eyes flicker open, you’re met with the most divine sight. William, breathless and needy, pressing his cock desperately against your cunt. You can’t help but smile.

“Will,” you breathe, reaching towards him.

His eyes snap up to yours. He was too lost in himself to even realise you had finally woken up. He wastes no time and leans down over you, capturing your mouth in a heated, open-mouthed kiss.

His long tongue immediately pressing against yours, teeth clashing as his hand coming from your thigh to hold the side of your face, leaving his other one continue to pressing and grinding his cock against you. William kisses you hard, claiming every inch of your mouth as his. You notice the taste of your own arousal on his tongue, making you wonder just exactly what you had missed while you were unconscious.

The combination of his assault on your lips and stimulation from his cock leave you gasping for air, spreading your legs further for him, letting out a stream of curse words and grasping desperately at his bare shoulders.

William moves down to lick and nibble at your neck, leaving small marks and bruises in his wake. “Feel good baby?”

All you can do is whine and arch your back into his touch, still slightly hazy from the clutches of sleep.

“Need you so bad baby girl… you feel so good, do you see what you do to me?”

William leans back and admires his handywork between your legs. He presses his tip against your entrance, panties still acting as a barrier between your skin. But he can’t bare it anymore.

He slides both thumbs across the slick expanse before slipping them under the fabric. He presses his length underneath the seam of your panties, sliding the tip towards your clit. The movement smooth, he groans again as you press even closer, desperate for the friction to resume.

Looking down to where his cock is resting underneath the material. William’s jaw goes slack, he can see the burning red head of his length is completely visible through your sodden panties. He experimentally slips the tip back and forth over the swollen nub of your clit. A strangled cry escapes your lips, along with William’s name. Your walls clench and your hips stutter.

“Keep still for me honey… fuck.”

He glides back and forth over your slick clit, groaning with every thrust. With your panties holding his member firmly in place, he grips your thighs to pin you down to the bed.

William ruts against you recklessly, completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock sliding back and forth over your well lubricated cunt, completely visible through the fabric of your panties made transparent by your arousal.

He presses the fabric down at the sides with his thumbs, making the space tighter, causing more friction. If there’s one thing William loves more than your body, it’s your underwear. Many a time has he brought himself to climax by stroking his cock with the delicate pieces of fabric, sometimes even sneaking a pair into work in his documents bag. Always on hand to get him through the day.

With the assistance of you, he feels the stress of today melt away. With every thrust against you he climbs higher and higher.

You, writhing on the bed, completely at the mercy of his hips, feel your own orgasm rising closer and closer too. The cries spilling from your lips intensifying.

“You close baby? You gonna come in your panties for me?” William was breathless.

“P-please,” you whine desperately.

“Do you want me to come in your panties too? We can do it together.”

“…m’so close,” your hips stutter and shake, being held in place by his large, rough hands.

He grips you harder and fucks against you with reckless abandon. Towering over you as moans shudder from his mouth, until his hips twitch hard against yours, cock straining inside the fabric of your panties, and he comes hard inside them. William going rigid against you as he comes undone.

With the added pressure and feeling of him twitching against your clit, you arch your back and cry out, your voice cracking with the force. Your own orgasm rips through you, walls spasming and mind going blank as you release right alongside William.

He leans down over you to rest his head against your chest as both of you pant, and twitch, and come down from your highs together.

You finally relax your grip on the poor bedsheets and with aching fingers, run your hand through William’s hair. He sighs contently in your arms, stroking your skin in small circles.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” you whisper.

Both of your bodies shake as he chuckles, “are you kidding?” He asks.

Placing a kiss on your abdomen before sitting back up, he gazes down at you spread out so prettily on his bed.

“Do you see what you do to me?” William shakes his head with another chuckle, “look at the mess we’ve made…” He looks down to where your bodies are still connected, your legs parted, his hands resting on your thighs. You lean up on your elbows to see your once stark white cotton panties now soaked through with both of your come.

William pulls his softening length out from underneath the fabric, resting it on top and smearing his come all over you.

“O-oh…” he moans at the overstimulation, “so pretty for me…” his eyes half closed.

You feel his hand grip your thigh tighter.

It’s going to be a long night.

[taintandviolent]

I held my nose I closed my eyes - I took a drink; Jimmy x Reader

Summary: Reader is a hypnotist. Jimmy, in one of his drunken nights, cleans out his own supply and stumbles into your caravan to clean you out too. What he finds... is sooo much better. [warnings: 18+! sex pollen fic!! shameless, explicit smut, I'm so serious. female receiving, oral sex, rough sex, mentions of alcohol.]

Also! Hugely inspired by @silverzoomies' mindbogglingly good Quicksilver sex pollen fic - the queen of sex pollen as far as I'm concerned!! Please read it if you haven't!!

taglist: @kaismanwich / @elsamars / @thewolveswithin / @petersevans / @marylovesevanpeters / @80strashbag / @redwoodghost / @silverzoomies / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @evansb1tch / @yesdevineruler / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @evanpetersfansblog / @kaissweetlamb / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @my-own-walker/ @viharmonscorner / @nova-kayne67 / ask to be added!

ao3 link here! | full fic under the cut!

The calliope breathed its melodic tune as your fingers curled back towards your palm. The man in front of you was glassy-eyed and pliable.

“Bark!” You snapped your fingers.

Almost immediately, the man let out a string of excited woofs, much to the delight of the audience. Laughs and scattered applause filled the tent, the loudest of laughs coming from the front row — from his presumed wife.

“Ladies and gentlemen! While I am using hypnotism for your pleasure and amusement today, I implore you… to consider that hypnotism can be used for good. It can be used to cure sicknesses of addiction, turn the fearful into the brave… or perhaps make someone fall in love with you.”

The man swayed languidly back and forth, following your graceful fingers as they swept through air. You brought the man’s attention to you with one finger, whispering soft words of release. You snapped your fingers for a final time and the man came to, dropped back into his own reality in a mess of confusion and wobbly knees. Unbeknownst to you, this regular Joe wasn’t the only man unsteady on his feet. A dozen or so yards away, the beloved Lobster Boy was drunkenly stumbling into your trailer, looking for some more booze to drown his woes.

As he stood in front of your cabinet, he surveyed the collection. Dried herbs, crystals, some of those cards that he’d seen the travelling gypsies use… and a ton of bottles. Scanning until he found something that most resembled some liquor — though everything was questionable — Jimmy palmed the one of the two largest bottles, lifting it to the light to get a better look. The dark liquid sloshed heavily around inside, and while he knew he was drunk, he could’ve sworn it sparkled.

Flipping the cork out with his thumb, Jimmy pinched his nose, squeezed his eyes shut and threw the contents of the bottle into the back of his throat, having enough to sense to avoid whatever taste was going to meet him. Whatever it was went down smoothly, leaving a syrupy, sweet coating on his throat. A line of deep burgundy trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his tongue flicked out to catch it.

“Hooo,” he grimaced and shuddered hard enough to lose his grip on the bottle. It clattered to the floor loudly. “That’s rough.”

His throat felt warm, but the feeling started in his thighs, of all places. Underneath his dusty black jeans, the muscles felt like he’d gone and pressed them against a bed of coals. It was hot in Jupiter, not that hot — but Jimmy Darling felt like he had the fever of the century. Sweat beaded at his hairline, running salty ribbons down his temples.

And then, he felt it. Concealed in his cotton briefs, heat rushed to his groin at breakneck speed. It couldn’t have taken more than thirty seconds for his cock to stand at attention as though he’d been working it up all night. His jeans tented and the pressure wasn’t very forgiving. No, it was downright painful. The blood switched heads and he could think of nothing else but you. Jimmy wanted to be inside you, feeling your weeping cunt clench with each thrust. He wanted to lick his fingers clean of your — “Come on!”

Jimmy drew the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping at the sweat. As the seconds ticked by, his body temperature continued to climb. He knew he had to do something before he actually became a lobster, bright red and steaming. With one hand, Jimmy unbuckled his pants and yanked the button free of its slit. The small give in restriction allowed his stiff cock to breathe, but Jimmy pulled the elastic of his briefs under his balls, wincing at the static electric feeling that physical touch brought.

His cock sprung free, bouncing heavily. It looked full, and pre-cum was already leaking out the velvet soft tip. He couldn’t describe it mentally any other way — needs emptyin’.

You had graciously taken one more participant before making your way back to your caravan, pulling your high heels off as soon as you were out of the tent. You padded softly across the grass, humming some disjointed melody. The tips had been good tonight, and you’d been looking forward to the iced tea in your tiny little fridge all day. "…Gotta’ hank o’ hair and a piece o’ bone and made a walkin’-talkin’ honeycomb.”

Stepping onto the wood crates that served as doorsteps, you pulled the door towards you, still singing quietly.

“…well uh honeycomb, wontcha’ be my baby, well uh honeycomb wontcha’ be my own — ”

With your index finger still curled around the handle of the screen door, your body froze, voice leaving your throat. Jimmy Darling leaned against your bed. Not just that — Jimmy Darling leaned against your bed, caramel locks plastered to his forehead with sweat. His pants were undone in his lap, and his fused fingers were glistening with his own cum. You’d only looked at it for a split second before you clamped your hand over your eyes, but it wasn’t soon enough to stop the visual searing its way into your brain. The way the swollen, red tip slid through his conjoined fingers as he clumsily tried to jerk himself off…

At the sound of the door, Jimmy immediately started crawling towards you, muttering desperate words of gratitude. Like a hound on the scent of a rabbit, his nose had clocked the earthy sweetness of your perfume oil the second you’d walked in. He needed to get closer to it and to you. There was another smell — a sweeter one — that he licked off his lips as he made a beeline for you.

“Oh, baby, baby, baby….” He growled low, words separated by hiccups. “I’m real glad you’re here. I messed up… uhhuuummmm - real bad.”

On his knees in front of you, Jimmy wrapped his hands around your legs, claws stroking the backs of your knees. Paired with the fact that he’d never called you baby, the contrast of his warm, strong hands against your delicate legs gripped your core, setting the first trap of arousal. A moment later, his lips collided with your shins, feverishly peppering kisses along them as he worked his way up.You closed your eyes, exhaling hard through your nose.

His head dove under your skirt and you let out a shrill yelp.

“J-Jimmy Darling! Stop, stop!” You wrenched your leg from his grip, his slick fingers gliding off your calf muscle as you hastily stepped around him. “What in the hell has gotten into you!?”

He fell forward onto his hands, letting out a sound you’d never heard a man make. His dick hung heavy between his legs and thick strands of pre-cum swelled from the tip, stringing to the floor with every slight movement of his hips. His lust just wouldn’t stop yelling, drowning out every other rational thought he had. It was as loud as when Elsa brought her megaphone to the stage, shouting orders at the top of her lungs -- louder maybe. Jimmy reached for his aching cock to give it a few desperate pumps, tightening his grip as he drew towards the base. The sensation crippled him, bringing him forward onto his face. …so damn sensitive…. I need her…..

He’d always been able to satisfy himself, even as drunk as he was now; after every meeting with the Girls, when some gal in the crowd got a little too flirty — he’d never had an issue taking himself in his pincers and rubbing one out. But this… this wasn’t enough and he was damn tired.

Every cell in your body was begging you to keep staring at the way he handled himself, alternating between stroking the thick shaft, and doing quick, smaller thrusts to stimulate the ruby tip. Jimmy groaned into the vinyl floor of your trailer as he decorated it with strings of white.

Did he just cum…?

Underneath your skirt, your cunt fluttered with a bloom of heat.

Although it had been difficult to walk away, you somehow managed and stopped just short of your kitchen counter, which had been converted into a short shelf. All of your tonics, amulets and tools of your craft were neatly arranged there. Were. They were…. Previously. The empty space in your cabinet was suddenly very apparent.

Suddenly noticing that you had left — or maybe he smelled that you had left, Jimmy’s lids peeled away from each other. He turned his head just enough to stare up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The curve of your ass underneath your skirt made his dick twitch upwards, reaching for relief. With his cheek smashed against the vinyl flooring, Jimmy’s words were distorted behind you. “Aaah— you’re sucha’…. dream Dolly, you know that?”

You closed your eyes, kicking your foot to the side. It collided with something, with an unmistakable tink! just like you’d predicted it would. Sucking in another deep breath, you dropped your gaze to your feet. A very empty amber bottle had been tossed haphazardly to the floor.

You heard him shuffling to his feet behind you, catching himself on whatever surface was near enough for him to grip. Through ragged pants, he continued. “I’ve always thought that — ever since you got here, the very first day…. Laid eyes on you and thought ‘Hot damn! We’ve got a sex-pot headlining.’ Youkn—”

“Jimmy…?” you asked, warningly. Planting both of your hands firmly on the counter, you pacified your mind, lassoing it in from the field of panic-stricken thoughts. “Tell me you didn’t drink this whole thing….”

Instead of dispelling your fears, a broad chest pressed against your back and two arms wound themselves around the front of your hips. Jimmy’s body felt like a furnace against yours, and the sudden pressure between your ass cheeks had you clawing the laminate countertop like a feral animal.

He’s still hard as a rock…

He was sweaty and smelled like sun and liquor; a smell that you’d become very attracted to in the few weeks you’d been here. Every time he passed by, you’d inhale, filling your lungs with it. He kissed the nape of your neck like he’d just got home from work, missing you all day.

“How many times have you orgasmed?” You didn’t want to know the answer.

“Mmm, only uh’ couple times…. I’m sss-sorry baby…” he slurred, pressing his face into your hair, loudly inhaling the scent of it. His voice was barely a whisper, but it was so close to your ear, it sent shivers down your spine. “You aren’t mad at me, are ya?”

His little mistake wasn’t about having too much of his Mama’s hooch in that little flask she carried around. Well, maybe that too… You’d got those potions from a lady in New Orleans in 1946 and she’d warned you about the dosage… “a silver teaspoon, nothin’ more, you understand?” She said it came straight from Marie Laveau and wasn’t to be trifled with. Jimmy Darling had consumed a whole bottle and now, his swollen cock was dribbling into the cotton fabric of your skirt.

“No,” you breathed shakily, reaching up to press your middle finger to the bridge of your nose. “I’m not… but you’re in for a real storm, Jimmy Darling. It’s — was— love potion, you know that?”

“Love potion, huh? Didn’t think that was real.” He questioned lazily how to fix it, more interested in his hands sliding up your stomach, manoeuvring until they’d found skin.

“You have to do what you were put on Earth to do. That basic instinct — and I sure I wish I could tell you once would be enough. But Jimmy,” you paused, inhaling sharply. “The dose for a man of your size is a teaspoon.”

“A man of my size…” Woozy chuckles vibrated your shoulders. “Seems like you’re the gal to see — you know an awful lot about it.”

Frustrated, you cocked your hip to the side, doing your best to sort out the thoughts. You knew the only solution was to fuck it out of his system, but you hadn’t really thought you’d be ending your night with him. Jimmy let out a loud moan, bucking his hips further in between your legs. You felt the heat of it, searing through the thin fabric. He bucked again and rolled his forehead along your shoulders, whining.

“Hooo…. you can’t move like that, baby. I’ll flip.”

You whimpered his name as you lifted your eyes to the ceiling, cursing whatever deities were looking down on you, waiting on bated breath for your next move. You’d waited a long time for something like this. So long in fact, that you had almost turned to waving your enchanting fingers in front of his face, like one of the ticket-holders, hypnotising him to look at you for longer than a few minutes. Instead, his mercurial alcoholism had planted him right in front of you. Well, behind you.

With his hips still rutting into you, grinding incessantly, he murmured into your ear: “I’m sorry I’m actin’ this way… but you haveta’ help me, baby…. Help me, please… I’m gonna’ lose my mind if I do—“

“I know, Jimmy.”

As you walked your legs out to the sides, you hoisted the back of your skirt above your ass. Watching intently, he backed his hips up allowing you room to reach between your legs and search for him. Your fingertips grazed the base, just above his balls. With a final prayer that Jimmy Darling wouldn’t forget about you as soon as the potion had run its course in his body, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft, already slick with a generous coating of pre-cum, and guided him in between your thighs.

Jimmy’s hands were suddenly at your hips, taking fistfuls of your skirt and shoving it up towards the small of your back. With a grunt, he wound one of his claws around the hem of your satin underwear, wiggling it down from one side. He thrust his hips forward and the hot tip slipped past your entrance, grinding into your clit from the underside.

Jimmy’s low, honey voice was reduced to high pitched whimpers and broken whines. Your insides pulsed with a hungry need…

“Hoh-god…”

“No,” you spat. “This isn’t right, not like this. Jimmy, I really —“

He didn’t let you finish. Conjoined fingers gripped your biceps hard, spinning you around so fast, the intent was blurry. For a minute, his face was contorted, frustrated and the way his chest heaved wound a nervous coil in your stomach.

Instead of striking you, or whatever you thought he was going to do, Jimmy crushed his lips against you, desperate for any sort of erotic contact. His hands found their way to your breasts, cupping them, while his thumb flicked at your nipples over the fabric. “I gotta’ have you, honey…”

You pursed your lips, tightening them into a thin line. In one fluid, frustrated motion, you pulled your shirt over your head. You unclasped your bra, holding his gaze and barked: “Then, take me.”

He forced his tongue into your mouth. You remembered the time you’d bit into a honeycomb as a child. As sweet as you thought it would be, and as sweet as it was, there was something very overwhelming about it. There was a word for it — cloying. As he explored your mouth, Jimmy tasted bitter, and cloyingly sweet… and god, was he drooling? There was so much spit that you had to swallow a mouthful just to avoid choking. His tongue wrestled with yours, teeth biting at your lips until they were red and swollen.

Your lids snapped open and you felt your pupils dilate. A warm, sweet heat rose from the base of your throat, filling your mouth. There were hints of honey, and spices, and underneath a very bitter fruitiness.

Oh… oh no.

He didn’t know what was going on inside of you, but he revelled in the way you started moaning and whimpering into his mouth, grinding your cunt against his groin. Jimmy’s hands dropped to grip the soft, pillowy flesh of your hips, his thumb pressing into the softness. “Fuck baby, your body… you can’t see these hips under that skirt you wear all the time.”

“This ain’t enough,” he cooed, pushing you towards your small sofa-bed with kisses. “I need to fill you up, Y/N….”

You were more than willing to let him guide you to the bed; though you knew the majority of your disposition was due to you already having a big, silly crush on him. Jimmy lowered himself down, one knee at a time, keeping his eyes locked on the table laid in front of him.

Hastily, Jimmy pulled your skirt to the floor, kicking it behind him. He made quick work of your underwear too — though those didn’t join the pile of clothes. He lifted those, the satin fabric dangling from one of his thickened fingers, swaying back and forth. You did your best to avoid looking at the wet spot you’d left in the crotch of them, though Jimmy seemed to have locked onto that and only that.

“Pink, huh?”

You chewed your bottom lip bashfully. “I’m not all crystal balls and veils, Jimmy…”

At those words, his eyes flashed to your cunt, pupils dilating. He chucked your underwear over his shoulder, refocusing his attention onto you. Jimmy spread your pussy with his knuckles, exposing the pink, glistening flesh. His laboured breaths slowed as he focused, watching every clench and twitch. “Baby, baby, baby….”

He was just staring at it. Your cunt ached as he teased it with feather-light touches.

“Can I?”

You moaned, asking for clarification. Not that you needed it — he could do whatever he wanted to you and he wouldn’t hear a peep of protest from you. You were a mess, like butter in his claws.

“Can I eat it, baby? I’m hungry… I’m a growin’ boy…”

It took a lot of effort to lift your head to look at him. You were swimmy; everything felt rose-tinted.

“Yeah,” you nodded, wetting your throat. “Yeah, Jimmy, but I think if you grow any more… we’ll have a problem.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, pausing to look at himself. It was true; his cock had never been this hard, and the tip was such a deep red that it was heading to plum.

With one segment buried deep inside your slick cunt and the other curled back towards his palm, Jimmy leaned in. His plush lips pressed tenderly against her, tongue slipping out to taste her in between kisses. You strained against his grip, writhing like a worm on a hook.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, finally pulling away from her. His chin was glistening — you almost wanted to apologise for the mess you’d made. He didn't seem to mind though, as he reached up, wiping at his chin with his hand. The way his thick, fleshy segments looked coated in your wetness, the way they caught the dull, yellow lighting of your trailer — it was enough to make you cum right then and there. You collapsed back on the bed in a mess of whimpers and Jimmy took that opportunity to dive back in.

He caved his tongue to envelop your clit, the vibrations of his moans sending a shockwave through your core. Before he started pumping his fingers in and out, Jimmy Darling did something that could’ve sent you into another dimension; he just sucked at your clit, flicking his tongue over the most sensitive spot he could.

He slurped at your cunt like an ice cream cone, one that was melting faster than he could catch — but he did a damn good job of getting every drop. He was loud and sloppy. He’s so hungry for it…

Your body trembled violently as you came, grinding against his mouth as long as you could before he backed up, dipping his head further in between your legs so he could feel the clench of your orgasm around his tongue.

He straightened up with a satisfied ‘Mmm’, jerking his head to the side with a smile. “Sweet as candy, baby…”

Crossing his arms over his torso, Jimmy pulled his white undershirt up and over his shoulders before tossing it behind him. Ribbons of sweat streamed down the tanned skin, leaving glittering lines across his chest.

“Jimmy,” you whined. “Hand me the other bottle.”

He obeyed, reaching behind him for it. His big hand closed around the cool, brown glass, and brought the cork to his mouth. His teeth clamped down and yanked it free. A small whiff of the potion inside made his eyes roll back, but he quickly regained control, looking down at you with a devilish little smirk. He knew exactly what you’d planned to do. He took one generous gulp, swallowed, and said:

“Open up, toots.”

You obeyed, and Jimmy Darling poured the love potion — too, too much of it down your throat. You coughed, sputtering some of it onto the pillow of your bottom lip, and he lapped it up.

The devil worked fast, but hoodoo potions worked faster.

Sweat beaded up from every pore, coating your body in an aroused sheen. You’d felt like you’d been sunbathing all afternoon, with no lake or pool in sight. You felt like your cunt was on fire. It had a heartbeat as strong as the one encased in your ribs. You had one thing on your mind — and that thing was stroking himself as he watched the change in you.

“Ohhhh, shit….” He took a deep breath, inhaling the pheromones that had abruptly filled the tiny space. You smelled them too, and the adrenaline dump made your muscles quiver. Jimmy’s dark brown eyes were wild as they locked onto your eyes, his cheeks flushed red. “Oh, now we’re cookin’.”

You jerked forward. You needed him, you needed every bit of him and the idea of teasing him drove you wild. You raked your nails along his heated stomach, tracing a line of hair the colour of brown sugar, following it down to a bush of the same shade. With your bottom lip swelling between your teeth, you planted both hands on his torso and dropped your head between your shoulders to tease him with your breath. You exhaled over the reddened tip, watching in delight as it twitched closer to you. Your lips ghosted over it, suctioning around just the tip. You swallowed, and opened your mouth wider, letting your tongue flop onto the underside of his shaft.

“Fuck…FUCK!”

Jimmy came undone, clenching his teeth as he bucked his hips against your mouth. Up and down, your head bobbed, stroking his cock with your mouth. Your cheeks caved as you hungrily swallowed the ropes of cum that hit the back of your throat.

That didn’t last long. With a strong hand, he guided you back, pushing you back onto the bed. You felt the mattress shift to Jimmy’s weight as he climbed behind you.

“C’mere, baby… lay this way.”

He guided you into a horizontal positioning, curling his body behind yours. His chest pressed against your back, warm and slick with sweat. His soft lips scattered kisses along the nape of your neck, down your shoulder.

Jimmy gripped your leg at the thigh, holding it straight. His cock was rock hard, and a thick, clear glob of pre-cum welled from the slit on his head as he lined up to your swollen, aching pussy. Your jaws ache at the sight of it, wanting to smear it over your lips like a gloss.

“You wanna’….” He inhaled a shaky breath. “You wanna’ feel the motion of the ocean, baby?”

You squeaked out a ‘yeah’. After nuzzling his nose behind your ear, The Lobster Boy jerked his hips so hard that the stretch of your cunt had you wincing and grinding your teeth together. But god, that feels so good… He sunk in, bottoming out almost right away — but the rhythm that boy had…. He was fast. He was fast, and he whined every time your cunt had swallowed half, shuddering the rest of it in. Every few thrusts, Jimmy would bunny-hump you with his cock deep inside, revelling in the way your cunt hugged his girth — squeezed it, even.

You, on the other hand, were feeling like your body was going to burst into flames at any moment. Your pussy had hardly had any time to recover, but you screamed out another orgasm, pulsating around The Lobster Boy.

He pulled out quickly, his ink-pool eyes glittering with a new position. With his dick secured in his hand, Jimmy got to his feet, stepping carefully off onto the floor. He let go to snatch you at the waist and wrench you harshly to the edge of the bed.

“Go, Jimmy…”

He pulled you forward slowly, dipping his chin to his chest to watch as your walls clenched around him. Your pussy was blush-red and swollen; a visual he’d treasure for the rest of his life. Once the tip of his head stretched past your entrance, Jimmy yanked your hips back against his. Hard. The sound your cheeks made when they slapped against his stomach drove him wild, and whatever apprehensions he had about hurting you went out the window.

Through unhesitating thrusts, he asked: “Doesit’ feel good, baby?”

You could only nod, seeing the ceiling of your trailer vibrate each time your bodies connected. The trailer has to be moving — he’s shaking the trailer, oh god.

“Say my name again.”

“Ji-Jimmy… oh my god, Jimmy!”

You were two orgasms in, and he was pounding a third out of you. The muscles in your legs were quivering, and losing strength quickly. Your vision was overexposed and twinkly, tears stained your cheeks.

“Jimmy - wait - wait, it’s too—“

You whimpered desperately, your fingers dropping away from your overstimulated clit. Jimmy straightened up, one hand moved to your shoulder, leaving the other still clamped on your hip. Your shrill screams were loud enough to break the barrier of your trailer, but when he tightened his grip on your shoulder to use it as leverage, you didn’t care.

He was fucking you deeper and harder than you’d ever been fucked, and maybe than he’d ever fucked. Blinded by ecstasy, he couldn’t hear a word. Every carnal instinct he had kicked into full-drive, galloping towards the finish line of pumping you full of his seed.

You turned your head, screaming into the mattress as your pussy shuddered one final time, leaking the wettest orgasm you’d ever had onto his cock. She clenched around his tip like a vice, and the sensation drove Jimmy to the edge.

The knot inside Jimmy unravelled all at once. He let out a deafening groan, spilling his pent-up load into you. Gush after gush flowed into you, and you could feel the hot fluid leaking from your cunt, splashing onto your thighs with each determined thrust he gave.

Eventually, his thrusts became spasmodic, shakily slowing to a stop. He collapsed atop you, and reached between your bodies, to tug his softening cock out of you, humming at the sensation.

“Y’know… I really do have the hots for you, baby…. I haven’t slept with a single girl since you waltzed in.”

He exhaled hard. “I gotta’ sleep, doll. I gotta.”

By the time you sat up and slipped your arms into a robe that was draped over a chair, Jimmy was already asleep. The way he curled up on your too-small bed, naked, one hand hanging off the side was easily one of the cutest things you’d seen since drifting to Jupiter. You wouldn’t know until he woke up, but if he was telling the truth…. You’d spend every last day worshipping the ground he walked on.

A delicate rapping pulled your attention from Jimmy, who had already started breathing deep in his sleep. Delicately, you pulled a blanket of yours over his bottom half, not wanting whoever was at the door to see him in all his glory.

You made your way to the door in no particular hurry, still floating Cloud Nine. Eventually, you toed open the door and leaned sleepily against the doorframe. The robe barely covered your chest, but at the sight of the visitor, all worries left.

“Have you seen Jimmy?” Maggie asked, her tone of perpetual annoyance making you smile. “I needed t—

“I have,” you cooed. “I sure have.”

Like the nosy bitch you knew she was, she poked her head in. It didn’t take her long to find him, and hear his soft snoring.

“Oh, drop dead twice,” she muttered, retreating.

You stopped, an amused smirk twisting your lips. So, she had wanted him. Clocked that one. “What, and look like you?”

Her wide eyes narrowed into slits, lips pursed indignantly. With a toss of her dirty blonde hair, she marched off towards the tent, fists clenched at your sides.

You might’ve felt bad for the poor wretch if Jimmy Darling’s cum wasn’t dripping down your thigh. Might’ve.

[ghuleh-witch]

Stay ~ Copia x Female!Reader

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explict Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, blood drinking, oral sex, p in v sex Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Female!Reader Characters: Papa Emeritus IV, Female!Reader Additional Tags: Dracopia, Vampire!Copia, no use of y/n Words: 3,758 Summary: Instead of meeting the Hat Man in your Benedryl-induced dreams, you meet Copia.

Author's Note:

So you know how people say they see the Hat Man when they take Benedryl? Yea, this was inspired by that idea. This is only the second fic I've written in a second-person point of view, and the first fic I've written in the present tense, so I apologize for any mistakes in point of view or tense. I also apologize for any poorly Google-translated Italian you might see in this fic.

AO3

You can’t sleep. The seasonal changes brought about your allergies and the sneezing, sore throat, and watering, stinging eyes made it impossible to get any kind of rest. You sigh as you look at the two small, pink pills in your hand. Benedryl would be sure to put you to sleep and ease your symptoms. You couldn’t sneeze if you were in a coma. You pop the pills and down a glass of water before changing into your pajamas—a pair of cotton shorts that barely covers your ass, and a thin, white t-shirt. You crawl into bed and make yourself cozy in your nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies. The Benedryl starts to take over and as your eyes grow heavy, a yawn escapes you. 

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake again it’s dark. The tv show you fell asleep to is long over leaving you stare at a black screen.You sit up and rub your eyes, looking for your phone to check the time. You feel alright physically but you know something is off. As your eyes squint through the darkness of your bedroom, you spot a  humanoid shadow in the corner near your window. A chill runs down your spine as fear seeps into your bones. The shadow steps forward and the moonlight illuminates its features. The shadow is a man or something that looks like a man at least. He looks older than you, maybe in his late 40s or early 50s. His face is painted in black and white skull paint and his hair is combed back. The mismatched eyes, one a color you can’t discern, and the other the brightest of white stare into you. 

“W-who are you?” You ask, pushing yourself back against your headboard and making yourself appear small. Maybe if you look defenseless whoever is standing in front of you won’t hurt you.

The figure says nothing as he approaches. He��s wearing a dark-colored jacket with fraying around the edges of the lapels, a blue cravat tied around the high-neck black shirt, and tight black pants that were distressed, frayed, and patched dawned his impressive legs. You find the man handsome and fascinating despite the fear surging through you.

The man smirks at you, now just a foot away from the edge of your bed. “I think the better question is what are you doing in my word, cara ?”

“Your world? This is my bedroom,” you said, your eyes darting around as though to confirm you are indeed in your room.

“Hmmm, it may be your room in your world, but you’re not in your world anymore. You’re in mine.” He’s closer, his gloved hands now bracing himself on the bed as he leans forward. He inhales deeply, as though taking in your scent, and lets out a contentful sigh. “You smell delicious, cara .”

“W-what?” You ask, your eyes wide in shock and fear as you lean away from him. “This is a dream. I’ve got to be dreaming.” 

He chuckles, a gloved hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “You better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world.”

Your eyes snap open as you sit straight up in bed. The sunlight from the window on the other side of the room is filtering through the sheer curtains, bathing your room in warm light. You let out a sigh of relief. “Just a dream,” you say, falling back against your pillows. You feel your heart racing in your chest, but you can’t tell if it is from fear or the touch of the man from your dreams. You might have been afraid, but you get the sense that the man will not actually hurt you. 

~~~

It is another night of allergies ruining your rest, and two Benedryl later, you are dozing off once more. You fall into the same dream. You wake up in your dark bedroom and the man from your dream days prior is there once more. He stands at the foot of your bed smirking at you.

“Welcome back, cara ,” he says. 

“How did I get back here?” You ask. 

“Your mind, eh, reached out for me,” he says as though he’s not sure how you got back there either.

“Who even are you?”

“Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Copia. I already know your name.”

“How?”

“Beh, I have my ways,” he says as he walks around to your side of the bed. “You don’t seem as fearful today.”

“Well this is a dream and you can’t hurt me in a dream. It’s not real,” you say almost smugly.

He lets out a chuckle. “Are you sure about that, tesoro ?”

Doubt fills you at his words. This isn’t just any average dream and deep down you know that. This is different; almost like you fell into a parallel universe. 

“Ah I see your gears turning,” Copia says, leaning closer to you. He inhales your scent once more and smiles, flashing your two long, sharp canines. “You still smell delicious.”

Your eyes stay on his mouth and the fangs he bears. “What are you?” You have a suspicion, but you want confirmation.

His lips curve upward. “Why, cara , I am a vampire. I thought it was obvious.” 

“It was not,” you respond. “At least not until I saw the fangs.”

“Are you scared?” 

You stop and think about it. Were you scared? You aren’t sure how you feel now. Fear isn’t the right word though. You don’t think he will hurt you, and the detail about him being a vampire? That didn’t bother you. If anything, it excites you. 

“No,” you answer.

He’s even closer now. He smells of bergamot and cedar and it’s intoxicating. You feel his breath on your skin as he speaks into your ear. “You should be,” he growls as his hand comes to your throat and tilts it away from him, exposing the smooth skin of your neck. You saw a flash of fangs and—

You wake, the sunlight making a bright spot on the ceiling above you that makes you squint. You sit up and look around your room. You’re alone once more. 

“Fuck.”

~~~

You want to see Copia again. After the last dream, or visit, you had with him, you find yourself wanting him. You want his hands all over you. You want his fangs and teeth on your skin. You want him all. 

Unfortunately, you are out of the medication that allows you to have the strange dreams. As you lay in bed, you will yourself to go to sleep. Your mind focuses on Copia—his face, his eyes, his scent. You’re not sure if you will see him in your dreams tonight. Perhaps he only lives in the dreams Benedryl allows you to have. 

Eventually, you fall asleep and wake a few hours later. Your room is dark and quiet. The moonlight gives the room a soft glow. You look at your phone. It’s just after two in the morning. You look around your room and don’t see anyone. Copia isn’t hiding in the shadows waiting to step out towards you. He’s only ever a dream fueled by medication it seems. You sigh sadly as you turn onto your side. You close your eyes, fully intent on falling back asleep, when you hear a voice.

“ Cara ,” it whispers. 

You crack your eyes open and sit up. Your window is open now, letting the cool autumn breeze into your room. “What the—” You say sleepily as you move to get out of bed. But before you can swing your legs off the bed’s edge, he’s standing next to you, dressed in the same outfit as the last two visits. 

“Is this a dream?” You ask as you blink. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you are awake. 

“No,” Copia says as he steps forward. “I came to your world this time.” 

“Why?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“Because I have to have you, tesoro ,” he says, his gloved hand coming to grip your chin and tilt it upwards to look at him. “ Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio .” He leans down and his lips meet yours in a bruising and desperate kiss. 

Your hand comes up and your fingers curl into his jacket, gripping it tight as your lips move against his. You feel the points of his fangs lightly poking at your lips as he kisses you. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you as you let a soft whimper escape your throat. His teeth nip at your bottom lip before trailing down your jawline to your earlobe. You feel this breath in your ear and it sends a delightful shiver down your spine. His fangs graze down your neck before stopping just over your jugular. 

A sharp pain causes you to gasp and try to push away from him. It hurts so much and you want to get away. He grips you tightly, holding you to him making escape impossible. It feels like hot daggers piercing your skin and sending molten steel through your veins. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you feel trickles of blood run down your neck onto your shoulders, back, and chest. You feel Copia sucking your life essence into his mouth, and as he keeps going, the pain dissipates into pleasure. The molten steel finds its way to your sex and you can feel your wetness pooling there. As the endorphins flood your body, you moan, tilting your head back even further to give him more access. You feel his lips move upward into a smile against your skin. He seems pleased with how you are taking this now. 

His mouth pulls back from your neck and you feel his tongue lick the puncture marks he made. He peppers kisses back up your neck and jaw before coming to your lips again. The coppery taste of your blood lingers on his lips as he crawls onto the bed. Copia's knees are on either side of your thighs as he pushes your upper body back down onto the mattress. 

“Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to go and I will,” Copia says when the kiss breaks. His hand finds its way under your night shift and you feel the leather against your skin. 

“Please,” you say almost needily. “Don’t stop. Stay.” The idea of him stopping is unfathomable. You can’t stop. You need to go further—need that release that’s waiting for you. You need him and nothing else. 

He says nothing as he pushes your shirt up over your breasts. Your nipples grow hard at the sudden exposure to cool air. He smirks at you before dragging his tongue lazily over one of the buds. Your head lolls back at the sensation just as he takes the nipple between his lips and sucks on it. You let out a gasp as his teeth teases the sensitive skin. Before you become too lost in the feeling, he’s pulling your shirt off, gently helping lift your head and arms to remove it. The shirt drops out of sight on the floor as Copia's lips return to your breasts. As his mouth toys with you, his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts and panties and finds your center. They slide up and down your slit and it’s like the floodgates open in you. There’s so much pleasure in the simple touch, and you can’t even comprehend how good it will feel when he’s finally in you. He lifts his head and you see his eyes blown out with lust.

“So wet for me,” Copia says as his finger finds your clit. The motion drags a moan from your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head. “And so responsive too.”

“Please,” you whine, arching your hips into his hand.

“Please what, dolcezza ?” He asks. “Use your words. Tell me what you want.” 

“You,” you say. “I want your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I want you.” 

He chuckles, his tongue flicking over a nipple. “And you will have me,” he says. “When I decide you’re good and ready.” 

You whimper knowing he’s going to tease you into oblivion. He’s going to bring you to the edge but pull you back just before you tumble over. He’s going to decide when you can let go and you’re okay with that. 

“I wonder if you taste as good as your blood tastes, eh,” Copia says as his lips move from your breasts and presses kisses down your stomach. He pulls his hand out of your pants and tugs your shorts and lacey panties down together. They join the shirt on the floor. Copia’s eyes roam over your body, taking in every detail of you. “ Bella ,” he breathes, his fingers trailing down your chest before slipping between your thighs.

He rubs your clit, making you moan again and buck your hips. Copia smirks as he moves back and lowers his head. He gives you one last look before his mouth is on your pussy. His tongue flicks over your clit and swirls around it as his hands hold your hips down, preventing you from bucking against his face. You moan, your own hands finding their way into his hair and gripping his mousy locks. You’re getting close. You feel the pressure building in your core, aching to snap and come undone. You know you’re not going to last much longer when he slips his tongue into you.

“I’m close,” you pant, your fingers twisting in his hair and tugging. You can feel your release reaching its crest, and before you go over that peak, Copia pulls away from you. You let out a whine in frustration as your fingers are forced to let go of his hair.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he teases, his tongue licking his lips as he looks up at you. His skull paint is smeared around his mouth allowing the pink of his lips to show through the mix of now gray paint. “I’m not done with you just yet, cara .” His mouth moves to your inner thigh and he presses more kisses to your skin. He glances up at you before sinking his fangs into your thigh.

You are prepared for the feeling this time. That sharp, searing pain returns and you let out a whimper, but like the first time he bit you, the pain fades into a feeling of ecstasy. You watch as he takes your blood, his eyes are closed as though he is relishing in the taste. His mouth pulls away from your thigh before he licks the puncture wounds clean. 

“I can’t decide what tastes better. You or your blood. Both are exquisite,” he says, crawling back up to you and kissing your lips.

You taste a mix of your blood and your juices on his lips and it turns you on even more. He pulls away from you and is kneeling between your legs. You watch as he pulls the blue cravat from his neck before he peels off the jacket he’s wearing. You sit up and bat his fingers away from the buttons of his shirt. His eyes focus on you as you unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders. Your fingers trace the lines of a “666” tattoo about his nipple before replacing them with your lips. You trail kisses along his chest as Copia’s fingers thread through your hair. His fingers curl into a fist and tugs, pulling your head back from his chest so you’re looking into his eyes now. His mismatched eyes bore into yours before capturing your lips with his again.

Your hands slip between your bodies and begin to work the laces of his pants. You take the time to stroke his length that’s straining against the material of his jeans. He lets out a groan at your touch. You pull apart the bow that’s knotted together and begin loosening the laces as his tongue works its way into your mouth. You moan as his hands move yours away from him. Copia pulls back from you and slips off the bed, pushing the tight pants down his legs. He’s not wearing any underwear, you note. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with, and your desire skyrockets. You subconsciously lick your lips and his eyes watch you intently. 

“Do you like what you see, tesoro ?” He asks as he climbs back into your bed, positioning himself between your spread legs. 

“I do,” you answer, looking him up and down. Your pussy throbs with need. You need him more than you ever needed anyone before. 

He hums in response as his hands come to rest on the bed on either side of your head, caging you in as he holds himself above you. He leans down and kisses your lips almost tenderly this time. “Last chance,” he said. “I’ll go if you want me to.”

“Stay,” you say. “Stay with me.” 

His eyes are ablaze with carnal desire as he pushes himself back up, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it a couple of times before lining up with your entrance. He slides the head up and down your slit. The moan that left your mouth turns into a whimper as you lift your hips in want. He smirks at you, his eyes flicking to your face as he slowly pushes into you. He stretches you, creating a delicious sting as he fills you. 

“You’re so tight,” he pants as he bottoms out in you. “ Cazzo …”

You are in complete bliss. You didn’t think it was possible to feel as good as you do now. “You feel so good,” you breathe. “Oh god, you feel so good.” 

He pulls out slowly, almost as though he’s teasing you on purpose before he pushes back into you. You moan as your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him deeper into you. He lets out a low groan, his eyes closing in a moment of bliss before he begins to move. His thrusts are hard and fast making you whimper and moan. Your eyes close, taking in every little detail of how this feels when you feel his hand on your cheek. 

“Open your eyes, cara,” he says in a low voice. “I want to see your eyes when you cum.” 

You obey and open your eyes to meet his. His hand falls away from your cheek and moves to your breast, massaging it and pinching the nipple as he continues to move in and out of you. You let out a small gasp at his touch and watch as his fingers lightly trail down your stomach and to your mound before finding your clit. He readjusts one of your legs, putting it up on his shoulder and allowing him to push into you even deeper.

You cry out at the new sensation, your fingers gripping the sheets under you while one of your hands grips his arm. Your nails dig into his skin so hard you think you’ll draw blood. You feel your core tighten as a familiar pressure begins to build in you. As he begins to stimulate your clit, you can’t help but let go. Your orgasm is intense as it burns through you, wiping your mind of all thought and making you see white for a second. You clench around his cock, making him moan as he stills in you for a second before continuing to fuck you. 

“That’s right, tesoro , cum on my cock,” he purrs. “ Cazzo , you look divine when you cum.” 

You can’t form a single response. All you can think about is how he is fucking you and how good it feels. “Oh god,” you moan as he continues to drive into you. His thrusts are relentless as he buries his face in your neck, nipping at the bite marks he created. He reopens the wound and drinks from you again, his cock twitching inside you. You start to feel a second orgasm building in you as he takes your blood once more.

He moans as he pulls away from your neck, his lips bloody as he kisses you hard. His thrusts become erratic and you know he’s close to losing it as well. His face scrunches as though he’s concentrating on something before thrusting into you sharply one…two…three more times. He’s panting something in Italian that you can’t make out. You feel him spill inside you and it’s enough to set off your own orgasm, milking him of all he has to give. He lets out a low groan as his forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed. 

The two of you are silent allowing the sound of your heavy breaths to fill the room. He opens his mismatched eyes and stares into yours. 

“ Sorprendente ,” he whispers, his lips finding yours again. He pulls out of you and moves to lie next to you. You let out a small whine at the loss of him before you roll onto your side to look at him. You know he isn’t going to stay. This isn’t his world after all. 

“Will I see you again?” You ask, hoping and praying you will. 

“You will,” he confirms, his gloved hand resting on your cheek. “I wish I could stay, but the sun will be up soon and I must return to my own world.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

You didn’t know how soon was soon, but you trust him. 

“Sleep, cara , I’ll stay as long as I can,” he says, this thumb stroking your cheek gently. It’s as though he has a hold over you and you obey, closing your eyes even though you didn’t want to. You feel his hand leave your face and rest on your hip as you slip into sleep.

When your eyes open again, it’s daylight out and Copia is gone. You’re convinced it was all a dream, but when you start to come to your senses, you realize you’re naked and your pajamas are still on the floor. You slip out of bed and go to the mirror hanging on your closet door. There are two small puncture marks on your neck and on your thigh. Your finger runs over the tiny bumps on your neck and you smile. You will see him again and you hope it’s in his world so you can stay as long as you wish.

Translations: Cara: dear/darling Tesoro: treasure Sono qui per prendere ciò che è mio: I’m here to take what’s mine. Dolcezza: sweetness Cazzo: fuck Sorprendente: amazing

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just get to me in time, okay?

a/n: just reminiscing about 2019 when I was in my hardcore frank era...

warnings: frank castle x nurse!reader, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, patching up frank's wounds, blood and gore, kissing, reader has a cat

word count: 1660

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As your cat suddenly jumped off his comfy spot on your belly with his head smooshed beneath the cliche romance novel you were unwinding with this evening, his sudden alertness and the loud meows that accompanied it caused you to put your book down, “hey, what’s up, baby?” you slowly got up from the couch and followed after him though the dim apartment, “we talked about this, Cosmo,” you gently warned the loud exclamations that he released in one of the shadowy corners of your living room, “you talking to the air just makes me think there are ghosts here.”

When he then began to purr, the soothing sound emanating from the darkness was accompanied by a familiar voice, “sorry to interrupt your thrilling Friday night, Y/n.”

“Jesus christ, Frank!” you exclaimed, nearly jumping out of your skin, “you almost gave me a heart attack! Don’t you know how to knock? Or even just use the front door?”

“Sorry,” he stepped into the light, supporting some of his weight on one of your dining room chairs as Cosmo happily rubbed his fluffy body against his heavy boots. 

As the soft light emanating from the tall lamp in the corner illuminated your friend's form, the blood soaking his dark clothes and the bruises across his cheekbone made his intentions for this late-night visit crystal clear, the smile fell from your lips at once.

“And here I was hoping you just felt lonely,” you joked, trying to hide your heavy sigh, “wanted to come by for a game of scrabbled or something,” your feet already carrying you towards your kitchen, you called over your shoulder, “I’ll go get the first aid kit, you know where the bathroom is,” a sentence you had probably said to him about a dozen times by now. 

After retrieving the first aid kit, or more like first aid box with the way you had expanded the contents out of precaution after you began to help Frank, it now no longer fit in the small neat cross marked container, but a bigger clear plastic box you used to store old mementoes in, one that conveniently didn’t fit under your bathroom sink anymore. 

“So, what is it tonight, huh?” you sat it down on the edge of the sink and glanced over at your wounded friend, now situated on the side of the tub. 

Your cat still glued to his side, one of his hands tangled in the soft grey fur behind Cosmo’s ears as the other one worked at shredding his black jacket, “just some idiot with a knife that got a bit lucky,” his breathing got heavy as he struggled with the other sleeve. 

Kneeling down in front of him, you swiftly took over his actions, removing his outerwear the rest of the way for him, “where?”

“Shoulder and a few down here,” he motioned towards the large red stain on his midsection, his fingers already beginning to lift up his t-shirt. 

“Don’t,” you swatted his hand away and lifted yourself up enough to fish a pair of scissors out of the box.

“Oh, come on,” his head tilted to the side as he tried to argue, “I am barely hurt, I can take my shirt off just fine.”

“I know you can,” your face stayed stony, “you can do so many very impressive things, just not right now, tough guy,” as you from the bottom hem began to cut open the black cotton that clung to his skin, “besides, I got you some spare clothes just in case.”

“You didn’t have to do that-”

“Frank, just say thanks,” you sighed, taking the last snip on your journey from the bottom up to the collar, “I basically got them for free anyway with how cheap they were.”

Lifting yourself up more, being momentarily at eye level with him as he watched you slice open the shoulders and peel the fabric off, “thank you, ma'am.”

After thoroughly washing your hands and sliding on a pair of gloves, you took a closer look at his gnarly cuts, gently inspecting his bruised cheek as well to make sure it wasn’t anything else. 

“I don’t have any more of the fun stuff,” you spoke as you fished out the rest of the supplies needed, “but I can offer you some aspirin if you want.” 

“Nah,” his low voice rumbled as you wetted a cotton ball with some saline, “just do it.”

“Alright,” you exhaled and began to dap and clean his wounds, the only indication of pain you received being the uncontrollable twitch his eyes occasionally did as they tracked your movements, washing over his tender flesh and wiping the crimson away. 

“I see this one’s healing quite nicely,” you commented as you caught sight of the newly scabbed over bullet wound that you’d patched up not too long ago, “at least you didn’t go and get yourself shot again, so that’s always something,” you tossed the last of the stained cotton rounds into the sink as your gloved fingers then began to thread the curved needle already clasped in the cold metal of your forceps. 

“Wasn’t hard to mess it up when you patched it up so good,” he watched you, both of his hands now simply resting on the porcelain of the tub, his novelty haven worn off slightly, so Cosmo had freed his good hand and moved on to curling up on the bathmat by the door. 

“You ready?” you asked out of habit before you let the needle pierce his flesh. 

“Yep,” he replied, a series of heavy breaths and low grunts followed suit as you closed up the cuts tainting his already scared abdomen, the muscles tensing slightly underneath your fingers as you did. 

Stoic as ever, Frank took every stitch like the brick wall that he was, not complaining once as his wounds one by one got closed up and then covered with large white bandages. 

As you worked on the last one that luckily missed his collarbone, your sutures slowed down as the storm within your mind grew. Now situated beside him on the edge of the bathtub, it was hard for him not to notice how your bottom lip had begun to tremble. 

“Please don’t-…” he spoke, averting his usually unwavering gaze as you tied off the last knot and cut the thread, “you already know that you can’t tell me anything that will make me stop, so please don’t ask me.”

“Frank, I would never-…” you set the tools down and blinked back at him, honestly slightly offended that he’d even ask you after all of this time, “you know me well enough to be certain that I’d never ask you to change, to stop before-…” shutting your eyes a second, you said, “look, I can do a lot, but I can’t do everything. What happens the day when you stumble in here with something that I can’t just fix, that I don’t have the right means to-…” you let your head momentarily slumped down against the mass of his shoulder, “and if you refuse to let me call an ambulance? Or even worse, if you don’t get here in time, if you don’t get to me, if you go and die on me in some ally somewhere, I just-…” your voice broke as your forehead softly collided with his own, “just get to me in time, okay?” you felt sharp tears sting the corners of your eyes, “come to me even if it’s just a scratch, because as brilliant as you are, I don’t trust those crappy first aid skills of yours one bit,” the essence of a smile accompanied that teasing comment as you blinked up at him once more with glossy eyes, “come to me, because if you don’t, if you get hurt, if you die, and I could have prevented that, then I don’t know how-… how-…” 

Your broken words trailed off as your eyes unintentionally flickered down towards his full lips and before you had time to think, you’d leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. 

He still tasted of blood, though that fact didn’t bother you as much as you’d imagined it would. You felt one of his large palms find the side of your face as his mind eventually caught up and he began to reciprocate the unexpected kiss. As you realised what you were doing, your anxious mind feared the worst and you swiftly tried to back up to apologise for your sudden actions, though the fingers that had travelled to the back of your head and kept you there long enough to let his lightened pecks upon your lips be enough of an answer to soothe your worries. 

“So,” his fingers lingered in your hair a moment longer as you parted ways, “I’m guessing that might have something to do with why you don’t want me dying in an ally somewhere, huh?” 

“Why?” you breathed, biting down on the soft smile that bloomed, “you got a problem with it?”

Disappearing completely in your eyes, he simply shook his head, beaming back at you as if he hadn’t just been through a meat grinder earlier tonight. 

“You know,” you eventually opened your mouth again as his intense gaze sent a shy tingle down your spine, “some patient's mom dropped off a bunch of cookies today,” you stared down at your nervous fingers as they fiddled with the fabric of one of the bulky pockets on the leg of his dark pants, “they were like insanely good, so I kinda smuggled a bunch of them home with me…”

“Oh, yeah?” a small chuckle bubbled within his throat. 

“Yeah…” you kept your gaze away from his as your thumb nervously drummed against his meaty thigh, “just thought that maybe you would like one, just since, you know, you had kinda a rough night, so it only seems fair for you to get a cookie…” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[jacksdinonuggets]

~Bandages~

Summary: Can Charlie bandage vaggies hand up from When lute stabbed her in the finale and vaggie age regresses?

Requested by Asher bowls of cereal on Ao3

The day had been exhausting. They had fought and defeated heaven in battle. Tons of exorcists verses a bunch of rando’s, the princess of hell, and all of cannibal town who weren’t even trained in combat. It was so tiring that all Vaggie wanted to do was go to sleep but the stabbing pain in her hand made it hard to make her brain sleepy. The hotel was wrecked so she couldn’t even rest. However, Lucifer offered to let them stay at his palace while they rebuilt the hotel. She would be able to fix up her wounds there. Surprisingly, not many wounds were sustained during the battle. Vaggie might’ve gotten the worst since she had a 1 on 1 battle with lute. Her nose and face still hurt from being smacked into a table two times.

As they were walking towards the palace, Vaggie remembered the feeling of the blade against her bones in her hand. It made her want to puke just rethinking about it. Now that the adrenaline was gone, she had to force herself not to cry out in pain. Gold blood leaked out from her glove and onto the ground as they walked.

Charlie’s dad quickly got everyone set up in their rooms so they could rest. Vaggie and Charlie were allowed to share so they got one of the master bedrooms. Vaggie immediately grabbed the first aid kit and tried to open it, but any sudden movement of her hand made her pain ten thousand times worse. She hissed in pain and dropped the kit, taking her glove off. Some fuzz from her glove made its way into her wounds. Charlie overheard and came rushing in.

“You okay?” she had a concerned look on her face that made Vaggie start to slip.

“Oh my god! What happened to your hand?!” Charlie rushed over and grabbed her hand, looking over it. She could see how deep the wound was. The flesh from the inside was easily seen through the golden blood and bits of it were starting to slowly peak up and out of her hand like little worms.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” She said in a loud voice that kind of scared Aaggie. She was already teetering between headpsaces, now was not the time for yelling

“I w-was going to tell you-”

“Yeah, just like how you were going to tell me about being an angel and then waited until Adam spoiled it!” she bellowed. She was just really stressed. She had to try hard not to puke when looking at the ripped up flesh sticking out of her lover’s hand.

Vaggies lip quivered before she started bawling.. Charlie realized what she had just said and the tone and immediately took it all back. She also knew that if Vaggie started crying this easily from a little bit of yelling, she was slipping right into her little headspace. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m just worried,” Charlie put a hand on her back and tried to soothe her. However, Vaggie kept crying. She already had so much on her mind as it is, as well as the pain, the yelling just made it worse.

“Sh, shh, I’m sorry, baby. I’m not mad,” Charlie promised, going over to her and giving her a side hug. She cried and cried and Charlie knew she needed to bandage her wound before it got infected. 

Since she was already crying, she decided to kill two birds with one stone and clean the wound so Vaggie wouldn’t have an intense headache from so much crying. She wailed when Charlie rubbed her hand with the cotton swab that had alcohol on it.

“I know it hurts, but I need to clean it,” She told her. 

By the time the bandage and gauze was wrapped around her hand, she was half asleep. She seemed to fall deeper into headspace too.

“Wan Bucky ‘nd paci,” she mumbled when Charlie was finished. Charlie didn;t have the heart to tell her that Bucky was… well gone. He was either blasted from existence due to Adam’s ray of disobeying the law of conservation of matter, or buried in rubble.

So Charlie pulled out her phone and quickly texted her dad.

<”Random question, can you summon a replica of Vaggie stuffed goat and purple pacifier? She’s regressed and asking for them”

Luckily, two moments later, Lucifer barged into the room, carrying three rubber ducks, an exact replica of Bucky, and a pacifier inside of a plastic case in his hands. He set them on the bed and walked into the bathroom. He saw Vaggie trying to curl up on the bathroom tile while Charlie was waiting for a text back. She turned around and saw him standing there.

“Oh, you’re here! Did you get the stuff?” she asked.

“Yup! Take good care of her,” he patted her shoulder before disappearing in his puff of smoke. He could’ve just used the door but it was more aesthetically pleasing to just disappear.

She realized how sweaty and kind of smelly Vaggie was, indicating that she hadn’t showered yet. Charlie showered right when they got there which was why she wasn’t all that smelly.

“You need a bath. I think there’s some bubbles,” Vaggie looked up happily at the mention of a bubble bath. She was still extremely tired but wanted to feel clean.

Charlie grabbed the rubber ducks from the bed and towel and began to fill the tub. After she made sure it was the right temperature and put the bubbles in, she helped undress Vaggie and put her in the tub. Luckily, she was very cooperative and didn’t even splash. She just played silently with the duckies and bubbles while Charlie washed her body and hair. She made quick work of it too because she didn’t want Vaggie to fall asleep in the tub either.

When she was done, she took out Vaggie before drawing the tub because she knew how scared she was of the drain. She took out the toys before pulling the plug out too. Couldn’t risk any of them getting stuck. That would make both Lucifer and Vaggie have a heart attack.

After drying her off, she helped her get dressed in some of Lucifer’s old pajamas. They were about the same height so it worked. 

When Vaggie was lead out of the bathroom, she squealed with delight as she saw her favorite stuffy, Bucky. She grabbed him off the bed and hugged him tightly. Charlie washed the pacifier in hot water before giving it to Vaggie. Then she tucked Vaggie into the bed before exiting the room since it was still early and she wanted to check on everyone else before she went to sleep. As a flip with a caregiver lean, she always found herself needing to check on everyone. It was just part of her personality, I guess.

[first-edition]

Sunday Love

“Southern belle”Reader x Cowboy! Bucky

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors)

Sum- You‘re back home visiting your mother and sister only to be introduced to your sisters fiancé and his best friend, who just happens to be town heartthrob.

CW- fluff, Fem reader, talk of scars, hint of alcohol consumption, eventual smut, p-in-v Unprotected, breeding kink if you squint, kissing, pet names, profanity. Blood, anger, cussing

“There she is!!” Your mother runs Down the stairs of the porch pulling you into a hug.

“Mama!” You smile hugging her back. The sweet smell of fresh backed pie wafting through your noise as she squeezes you.

“How’s the big city treating you darlin?” She asks excitedly. Evened since you moved out of the house you’ve lived in Vegas you barley have time to visit your family all the way back in south of Montana.

“Loud. Im uh im actually thinking about moving back here but I know yet.” You reply she smiles even wider pulling back from you.

“Where’s peg?” You ask.

“PEGGY GET OUT HERE!” You mother yells her thick southern accent drowning the noise of your car engine still running. Your bright red headed sister comes running outta the house her hand entwined with someone else’s. A tall blonde man who wears cowboy boots, washed out blue jeans with a brown belt, a white tshirt that has an American flag stitched to the shoulder sleeve.

“Y/n!” Peggy let’s go of the man to hug you. You hug her back but your eyes never leave the man in front of you.

“Hi Peg.” You reply slightly less happy than before.

“How’s the big city treat’n you.” She asks.

“Mmhm great Peg who’s this?” You ask crossing your arms and leaning against your car. A red catallac

“Oh come on y/n stop that.” She pulled your arms apart.

“Pleausre to meet you, my name is steve rogers your sister has told me mighty fine things about you.” He says. You eye him up and down as he reaches out a hand. You shake his hand a strong grip on him.

“Y/n…steve and I are engaged…were getting married.“ a huge smile embarks on her face you raise your eye brows.

“O-oh..” you say nearly choking on your own breath.

“I meant to call you but with all the wedding preparations and stuff it’s been a lot.” She says. Your eye catches someone else exiting your childhood home.

Your mother seems to take notice to your aversion and sees bucky standing on the porch.

“OH y/n You remember bucky? Dont you?” She says bringing him down the porch he keeps his hands tucked in his pockets. The dark leather cowboy hat sitting low on his head barley covering bright ocean eyes.

“James barnes.” You say

“Doll. Its nice to see you again” he says a small smile follows your face as he remembered the nick name. You walk up to poking his chest above the black T-shirt he wears.

“Last time I saw you, You were half my size and fat.” You giggle.

“Hmm last I saw you, you was mean and would steal liquor outta mr l/ns stash.” He chuckles. You gasp slapping his arm. Only leaving him with a chuckle.

“I gotta run sugar but I hope to see you tonight?” Steve says to your sister.

“Yeah of course!” She smiles smitten as they share a kiss you avert your eyes in disgust.

“Y/n you should join us tonight bucks holding a party at his ranch tonight.” Steve says.

“Mm you know im kinda tired jet lag and all so i-“

“Youre coming missy, now turn off your engine and bring those bags inside. Bucky be a sweetheart and help now would yah?” Your mom says with out hesitation he nods and grabs the suit case next to you.

“Oh becarful that super-..” you stand a bit stunned as he easily picks it up no grunts or hesitation.

“Heavy.” You finish as he turns and walks inside. You turn to your sister.

“W h a t?” You mouth. She giggles.

————

The loudness of music and people yelling and laughing fill your ears. You walk around seeing kids running with cotton candy, and lemonade.

“Y/n!?” Your sister yells your name. You look over seeing her with steve.

Walking over to them you sigh.

“Hey.”

“You made it!” She smiles giving you a quick hug.

“So..what is this?” You ask.

“Buckys dad passed a way last year and he gave him the ranch and bull ring. He fixed the place up a bit and it’s more of a grand reopening.” Peggy smiles.

“Oh I didn’t know that.” You say she nods.

“Y’all having fun?” Buckys voice speaks from behind you a large smile forming on Peggy’s face.

“Absolutely my little sister just got here too!” She says.

“Im 6 months older than you.” You snidley comment.

“Bucky. Why dont you show y/n around hm?” Steve says.

“Uh yeah. You want a tour?” He asks.

“Yeah sure.” You say. Peggy giggles as you walk off with bucky.

He shows you the bullpen, the horses, the dance floor where everyone is, where the food and drinks are, and finally the mechanical bull where you see your sister riding and screaming.

You notice the entire time hes showing you around he’s stopped by girls, being asked to dance and given a few free drinks which he dosnt take.

You both take a seat at an empty table acrcross from each other. Buck sips on a beer.

“So. Why are you back in town?” He asks

“Mama wanted me to visit so here I am. And might I say I did not expect you of all people to keep getting stopped like that.” You chuckle.

“Ah yeah. Apparently if you loose your arm go through trauma and loose weight the girls of the town go crazy for you.” He says

“Dark horse type then?” You say he nods chuckling. Before starting up the conversation again a girl comes over placing her hand on his shoulder she’s red headed in black jeans and cropped white shirt.

“Bucky wanna dance with me the shuffles gonna be on.” She says

“No. No thanks nat.”

“You promised me a dance last year.” She smiles

“Yeah well we didn’t have a party last year did we?” Bucky says annoyed.

“James ple-“ she starts

“Don’t call me that and get lo-“ he begin only for you to cut him off

“James.”

He looks at you.

Nat takes her hand off him he relaxes.

“Wanna show me the barn? I’d um…I’d like to see the pigs.” You say he huffs and nods getting up to full height towering over nat.

“Come on doll.” He say leaving his beer. You get up as well he holds out his hand to you you glance back at the girl her friends now gathering. You take it in yours following him out.

———-

Bucky leans against the barn wall arms crossed making him look larger than before.

“So pigs? We don’t got pigs.” He says you giggle and nod.

“I know. It’s just. You looked awfully uncomfortable with her you know her well?” You ask he nods in reply as you look down kicking around a loose rock.

“We dated for 2 months after my dad passed. She’s a real….Real, peice of work.” He says taking his hat off about to hang it up on the side while running his fingers through his hair.

“Can I see?” You ask seeing his hat holding out ur hands.

“Mm” he replies handing it to you see the scores black leather with a metal peice around the base. You put it on and it dosnt sit quite right as his head is bigger that urs.

“Howdy.” You say lowering your voice tucking your thumb into you pocket to mimic Bucky. He chuckles rolling his eyes.

“The names Bucky doll im the town heart throb and I’m super strong and ignore everyone except y/n.” He chuckles standing up from his relaxed posture.

“I ain’t gonna dance shuffle with no girl becuase I’m a dark horse. Ooh!” You mimic before almost falling but he catches you keeping you up. Chest to chest.

He tilts the hat up to see ur eyes.

“Th-thanks.” You say his blue eyes boring holes into you.

The space between you closes with his lips on yours. Before he can pull away again you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer to your he inhales as his arms pull you in by your waist.

Walking you back. Your back hits the wall of the barn as his hands explore your waist. You hands find his hair pulling gently at the locks leaving a grunt to leave his lips.

“BUCKY!?” You hear someone fainting yelling his name. You can feel the frown on his face before he pulls away.

“BUCK!?” The voice gets closer printing him to pull away. And turn his head to see Steve running into veiw drenched in something.

“SHES GON WILDE NAT IS DESTROYING THE BAR.” He exclaims Bucky immediately leaves you and his hat and rushes out with Steve.

Running into the back nat is holding a crow bar smashing it across the bar table and legs causing beer and glass to spill everywhere. People run out others try to stop her. Slipping in liquid or almost getting hit by the winging crowbar.

“NATASHA! STOP!” Bucky yells at her.

You run in seeing her destroying everything bucks dad had worked for. She picks up a chair throwing it at bottle cabinet making everything fall and crash to the floor.

She turns rage filling her only to se you wearing buckys hat.

She grabs a bottle and chucks it at you you shield your self with your arms which the bottle smashes against casing you to fall.

“THATS ENOUGH!” Bucky says grabbing the swinging crowbar in his left hand the metal against the crowbar ringing when it hits his hand. With his other he grips nat by her hair pulling her to the entry of the bar the crowbar in his o th we hand as she squeals in pain by his grip. The Barr doors open revealing four police men who were called erlier

They immediately take her from Buck in hand cuffs dragging her out screaming he drops the crowbar and hurries to you where your sister and Steve already are.

“F-fuck.” You whine as blood pours from your arm shards of glass sticking out of it.

PART 2

[sebsxphia]

a preacher!rhett abbott story. | preacher!rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: you’re back in your home town and uncertain about your future that lies ahead of you. but, there is one man in your small town who gets your attention. one man who soothes your racing mind and guides you on the righteous path. your local town preacher, rhett abbott. he somehow already knows you inside out and he only has the best intentions for you… right? based off ethel cain’s, preacher’s daughter.

￫ word count: 27.3K.

￫ c/w: heavy and dark religious themes, love, sex, cannibalism, death, murder, knife play and kink, blood play and kink, consenting injury caused, marking you, kissing, swearing, smoking, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, deep throating, skull fucking, bruising, crying, mutual masturbation, masturbation, choking, thigh riding, crotch grinding, pussy spanking, spanking, spanking with a cross, boot riding, nipple pinching, edging, overstimulation, voyerism, corruption kink, innocence kink, daddy kink, cnc, derogatory language and sex, inappropriate use of the cross, period sex, oral sex, rough sex, aftercare and preacher!rhett abbott.

￫ a/n: this is the full preacher!rhett abbott story of ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ my main masterlist can be read here! 💌

verse 1. | god knows i tried.

His hands were the first thing you noticed. You could run your eyes up and down the numerous veins that protruded on his hands and then ran naturally up to his large forearm. His fingers were slender, but his knuckles and fingertips looked worn, as if they had worked tirelessly day and night. You wondered for a split second if they would feel rough on your far softer skin.

Mentally you kicked yourself for letting your mind wonder to such a sinful place and you re-directed your attention to elsewhere on his tall frame. He had ditched the notion of traditional clothes and wore a plain, soft cotton t-shirt. The sleeves hugged around his biceps perfectly and if he moved in a particular way, you could see his torso under his arms stretch under the fabric.

The jeans, similar to his hands, were worn out. He still managed to uphold a presentable appearance, but right in between his thighs you could see the denim fading. It was as if something or someone, had rubbed away at it mercilessly.

His hair was always tucked perfectly behind his ears, but it was when he squatted down to greet one of the smaller children that attended your Church, that a strand fell out and licked against his forehead. That’s when you thought he looked most beautiful. A gift from God himself. He would be quick to tuck it back, again with those calloused hands of his. The hair that ran along his arms and hands matched the same on his head, although it was slightly lighter and sun kissed.

Before you could register it, said hands reached out to yours and took it as he made his way down the line.

“Father Abbott.” You acknowledged him quickly, as he now stood in front of you and shook your hand. He was gentler with you than the others and his touch lingered as he shook your hand.

“Oh, y’ know to call me Rhett. Y’ come here so often to help, I’d be hurt if we weren’t on a far more personal basis now.”

At Rhett’s words, you thought how could you be so foolish. He was right. Personal basis. Yes. We know each other on a personal basis.

Rhett leaned in closer to you to confess a secret that only the both of you were privy to, “Don’t tell the Youth Pastors who come ‘ere to help, but you’re my favorite.”

The closer proximity to Rhett made your breath hitch suddenly in your throat. You swallowed quick at his words to try and gather some salvia in your now parched throat.

You could smell his aftershave, thick with sandalwood, and notice all the little details on his face. At his confession, his face contorted into a smile you would only ever deem as sly. Small cuts and grazes that were fading in the crease of his eyes and above his lips as he smiled could be seen. There was stubble threatening to peak through along his jaw and you found yourself wondering again, what it would feel like on your soft flesh.

You kicked yourself again and replied sweetly, “thank you, Rhett. I’m honored to hear that.”

You mirrored his smile to show you were grateful, although it wasn’t as sly as Rhett wore. He stayed close in your presence for a handful more seconds and held your gaze, but to you it felt like hours. Rhett had this intoxicating way of drawing you in for prolonged periods of time, especially at his sermons.

Rhett parted his lips to speak and his tongue dipped out to wet his bottom lip. There was something on the tip of his tongue. Something he wanted to get out and ask you, but he pulled back completely as Rhett remembered he was in his Church and speaking to a flurry of civilians after his Sunday sermon.

“Thank you for coming today.”

“Thank you, Rhett. It was a lovely sermon.”

Was it on purpose that you added a flirtatious tone to his name? You weren’t sure. But did you notice how Rhett cocked his head and his teeth grazed over his bottom lip at his name being spoken by you?

You were never so sure of anything in your life.

For the next two hours, you spent it offering your help with the teas and coffees that were being handed out after. You insisted that you would finish everything up and as always, you were first in and last out. But more so you needed this time to scratch the itch that had creeped its way down your spine since Rhett shook your hand.

Everyone had gone home and the Church was empty. In a flurry, you ran to the bathrooms, slammed the cubicle door shut, hitched the skirt of your dress up and over your thighs and dipped your fingers into your underwear. You let out a moan that was mixed with relief as you finally grazed over your aching clit. In turn you let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in for so long. And with that, came his name.

“F— Fuck, Rhett…”

Your fingers came to a sharp stop as you heard a creak from outside your cubicle, but you reminded yourself this Church was old. You heard it creak and groan many a times, and your clit was throbbing underneath your fingertips so you threw caution to the wind and continued with your movements, letting out more sweet whines and his name over and over, like a prayer.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett…”

It was Monday morning when you awoke, the day after you had let your deepest and most sinful thought possess your body and soul. You peeled back your lace crocheted curtains and looked out at the morning sunrise.

A pallet of reds, blues and yellows streaked over the sky. When they mixed together in the middle, it reminded you of the many drinks of tequila you had sometime ago in college. When you would put on Hotel California and dance around, alone in your dorm. It was insane to you that you didn’t realise how free you felt.

Getting out of Wabang was a blessing in disguise that you never truly appreciated until you had to come back home. It was an old wives tale that the kids of Wabang would leave and come back in five years time. You always told yourself that would never be you, but yet here you were. Waking up in your childhood bedroom with fading posters, a cross nailed to your wall that still had the wallpaper in perfect colour behind it, bedsheets that were scratchy and most importantly, returning back to your faith as instructed to by your Mother and Father.

It was a constant battle between yourself that left you tossing and turning most nights. Was what you were doing the right thing? Did you want to return back to your faith? You had shunned it for so long and you begrudgingly returned to please your parents, but now, you had a reason that felt far more personal to you.

“Preacher Abbott.”

“Please, Rhett.” Rhett corrected you through the wall of the confessional booth.

Since the morning, your mind hadn’t stopped racing with thoughts of your return home and your actions of yesterday in the bathroom cubicle, and so you came back to the place where you could feel some sense of control. When you were sat in the confessional booth, you couldn’t see anyone and figuratively speaking, nobody knew your name.

Rhett spoke up again with his voice hushed and contained within these Holy walls, “Tell me, what brings y’ here?”

You breathed in and let the air fill your lungs before you confessed. Your fingers twitched together and jabbed at the corners of your fingernails. It was to distract yourself from the sins that you were about to admit, to the man that had been at the forefront of your mind for weeks on end.

“I— I feel lost, Rhett. Comin’ back here after being away for s’ long—”

“College, wasn’t it?”

It made your heart thrum in your chest that Rhett remembered such a detail.

“Yes. I borrowed everythin’ I could from my parents to live that life. I cried ‘nd begged them on my hands and knees—”

You heard Rhett shift in his seat at your words.

“—not to make me come back. God knows, I was livin’ out there ‘nd God knows I died comin’ back here. I’ve got nothin’ much to live for here. God knows I’ve tried to make it work.”

You let out a small, yet defeated sigh after you had confessed. But Rhett didn’t buy it. He clicked his tongue in turn and pushed you for more.

“There must be somethin’, otherwise y’ would’ve left by now. Somethin’ is makin’ you stay.”

You heard Rhett pause and clear his throat on the other side.

“Perhaps, somethin’, sinful?”

You could feel the memory of yesterday punch through your gut and you stopped breathing altogether. You held your breath tightly in your throat and scrunched your hands together within the material of your sundress. Your heart was beating hard in your chest, so hard you felt like it could fall from your ribs.

The thought of Rhett hearing, let alone seeing you, in the bathroom cubicle made something in your stomach flip. It aroused you more than you cared to admit.

“You’re a sinful little one, aren’t you, my sweet Lamb.”

Rhett broke the heavy tension first with his voice an octave lower than before and his Southern drawl coming through.

“Y’ don’t have to say anythin’. Y’ don’t have to fear me. Let there be light and draw t’ me ‘nd into my arms. I can keep y’ safe, I can make you a blessed Daughter of Abbott.”

Your breathing came out in stuttered waves and your eyes fluttered shut at Rhett’s guiding words. For the first time since you’d come home, you had a clear pathway ahead of you. It was running straight into the garden of Eden, with Rhett there to keep you safe.

“Yes, Father.”

Those words slipped from your trembling lips naturally and you had never felt so sure in your life. You felt your life light up and you were bound eternally to the Holy man on the other side of the wall.

“This will prove y’ devotion to me, my sweet Lamb. Touch yourself for me.”

There was no hesitation in both Rhett’s instructions and in your reaction. You knew then and there whatever Preacher Abbott proposed was for the good of God and you would obey. Neither of you would ever waver.

You shuffled back against the hard wood wall, as far as you could to allow your leg to come up and prop against the seat. Instinctively, you angled yourself towards the wall that was separating you both and you spread your thighs. Even through the wooden pattern on the divider, you could see Rhett shift in his seat and his heavy shadow of his face cover all light. The only light you saw was the glint of his eyes through the cracks, watching you like a lamb at the slaughter.

Although your hand was shaking as it ran down the curve of your thigh, as soon as it dipped under your underwear and you pressed your fingertip to your clit, the shaking ceased and you let out a soft moan. You ran calculated circles around your clit before dipping it in between your folds to gather your arousal and spread it around the rest of your cunt. When you dipped down and felt how wet you were already, you let out another small moan.

“Good girl. Pull it back f’ me, I want to see.” He practically purred.

Your other hand reached down and pulled your damp underwear to the side to expose your weeping cunt completely to Rhett. You heard him let out a deep and guttural groan, followed by the clinking of metal and a ruffle of material on his side of the confessional booth.

“Are y’ wet enough?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. I want y’ to push two fingers in, as far as they’ll go.”

You nodded and slipped your middle and ring finger past your lips and deep into your cunt. You whined out in response to your own touch and it was louder this time. The feeling of your two fingers moving along your walls, angling upwards to push against your sweet spot was heavenly. Knowing you were performing this for the good of God and for your Preacher, only made you buck your hips upwards to chase your own fingers.

“Atta’ girl. Don’t forget y’ sweet clit, my Lamb.”

You choked out a, “yes” at Rhett’s instruction and managed to move a pad of your finger around it. Your fingers moved in and out of yourself in rhythmic movements and curled perfectly. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge with every swipe of your swollen clit and guiding instruction from Rhett on the other side of the wall. Every so often you picked up low grunts from him and the sound of skin slapping against one another.

Your chest was heaving and flushed red as a result. A string of continual moans left your lips. The ache was growing as you moved the pad of your finger in figures of eight over your clit, and in unison grazed over the sweet spot inside of you. You were going to spill over anytime soon.

“Father, Father, Father!” The plea was drawn from your hoarse throat. You were begging Rhett for something, but you didn’t quite know what yet.

You kept yourself teetering on the edge and awaiting his instruction for whatever he wanted to happen next. You were completely drawn to him and he had you like a puppet on strings.

Rhett was heavy in his own breathing and you heard him grunt the final words that you were waiting for.

“That’s it, good girl. Come f’ me, fuck— Come f’ me, m’love.”

At his final guidance, you swiped your finger twice more over your clit and it was all you needed to feel your orgasm wash over you in a warm glow. A sweet sounding moan tore from your throat and a name you had never uttered before.

“Shit, Daddy!”

Your hips bucked up into your own palm and your bore down onto the heel of your hand and rubbed your clit feverishly on your flesh as you rode out the feeling. Your eyebrows were knitted tightly together and your jaw was completely slack. As you hurtled through the euphoric feeling, you had closed your eyes to swim in it completely, but when you opened them again the heavy shadow of Rhett wasn’t next to you anymore.

Your head flicked to the right when the door to your side of the confessional booth was thrown open and Rhett stood in the doorway. The sight of his own cock heavy in his hands, red and aching, made you mewl in response and you turned your bare and slick cunt towards him.

In one stride, Rhett had crossed the threshold into the confessional booth with you. His hand was stretched upwards and planted firmly above you and caged you in completely. His other hand was jerking at his cock over your cunt and his eyes were fixated on the precious sight before him. Rhett’s jaw was set firm, with his own eyebrows mirroring yours and knitted tightly together in concentration. Strands of his hair had fallen to lick at his forehead that had a light sheen of sweat coating his flesh.

Rhett let out a deep groan as he fisted his aching cock twice more, “F— Fuck.”

At his strained words, his release fell onto your cunt and dripped down and into your underwear. He ran his hand up and over his length a couple more times to let the last of his hot cum fall from his tip.

Your breathing matched up with one another’s as you both came down from your own highs. Rhett released his braced hand from against the wall and brought it down to cradle at your flushed cheek. His face had relaxed completely as he bathed in his own afterglow. All he wore was a soft smile.

“Keep my spend in y’ underwear. It’s the seal from God to finalize you as a Daughter of Abbott.”

“Yes, Father.”

Rhett cocked his head and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if he was scolding a child.

“Sorry. Yes, Daddy.”

You corrected yourself instantly and shook your head in response to making such a foolish mistake.

“Better, my sweet Lamb.” Rhett ran his thumb over the baby hairs that lay on your cheek in soothing motions.

Finally, you could feel those calloused fingers on your soft flesh in ways you had only dreamed of. Your heart lurched at his touch and at his final words.

“You’re bound to me forever now.”

His words were sticky honey and you’d fallen right into his guiding embrace. A lost little lamb who had finally found their shepherd.

And this was only the beginning. You were about to travel far out West with your Preacher.

verse 11. | ptolemaea.

You pushed yourself against the back of the Motel door and closed it behind you. The paint was splintering and falling off in your palms. Rhett was sat at the edge of the Motel double bed. He looked up from his studious reading of his Bible, to catch your hesitant gaze.

“Sorry, Rhett. I didn’t know if y’ wanted me to follow you in, s’ I waited an hour or so back in the Diner.”

Your hands came round to your front and your fingers instinctively played with each other, trying to distract yourself from Rhett’s eyes boring into you, and from the situation that you had found yourself in.

When your town Preacher asked you to come away with him and see the sights of the West, you never thought you would. Well, you never realized how easy it would be. You mentally kicked yourself for allowing his calloused, yet gentle hands, to win you over so easily. But you couldn’t find yourself to blame him. He had nothing to fault.

Rhett parted his lips to speak and his tongue wet at his bottom lip. He let out a ‘tsk’ sound and shook his head in disagreement at your statement.

“I invited y’ in, twice. Y’ know there’s nothin’ for y’ to fear now y’ with me.”

Rhett’s eyes raked over your frame as if to study you. To read every inch of your flesh and how your body visibly reacted to his deep and Southern drawl. His insides were gloating with pride. He had managed to get you right where he wanted you.

You love blood too much, but not like I do. Rhett thought as you stood, still pressed against the back of the Motel door, as if you were in shark infested waters. He could smell your blood from miles away and he was about to go in for the killing bite.

“Suffer does the wolf, crawling t’ thee. Promisin’ a big fire, any fire, t’ keep you warm.” Rhett quoted back and out loud to you, when you didn’t react to his original statement. He was trying to soothe your racing mind and to convince you that this was right.

You held his heavy gaze, but you were unable to avoid the obvious spread of his thighs, with his palms planted firmly on his worn jeans. You saw his lips twitch in the corner, threatening for an almost Devilish grin to spread over them.

“That’s how y’ feel, don’t you?” Rhett cocked his head to the side and continued when you still didn’t answer. “I heard you at those Sunday Sermons. Moanin’ my name in the bathroom cubicle when y’ thought everyone had left. I saw you through the crack of the door, wi’ your hand down your pretty pink panties and y’ conservative sundress hitched around y’ thighs.”

Rhett continued as he read the way your body reacted to his words. How your chest was rising and falling quicker and how your fingers tangled messily in with each other.

“I gave you everythin’ you needed after, ‘nd now, I need you.” His tone became an octave lower at the seriousness of his words. “I love you.”

His final words were the lasting kick you needed to get yourself off of the back of the Motel door. It was the first time you had heard Rhett utter such meaningful words. No text, or lines from the Bible could mean this much to you both. His words spun round and round in your head as you made your way over to him in a flurry. He mirrored you in response and came crashing into you with his lips meeting yours.

His large hands were cupping your hot and rosy cheeks, with his rough thumbs cradling underneath your jaw to keep your lips planted firmly against his, as his tongue ran along your bottom lip and dipped into your mouth. A groan emitted from you both at the kiss. It had been weeks since Rhett had you to himself and you both craved each other more than you cared to admit. Sin had never tasted so good.

You muttered against his lips, over and over, like a prayer, in between the heated kiss, “Love you, love you, love you...”

You both pulled away from the kiss to catch up with your similar and erratic breathing pattern. Your breath hitched in your own dry yet sticky throat, trying to form some sort of salvia. Rhett still held your gaze and it felt as though he was burning through to your retinas. It burned more than the sinful guilt you could feel punching deep within your gut.

“In my prayers, they say I’m the one He’s gonna take. He’s gonna take me Rhett, f’ my sins. I feel like I’m on fire.”

You stumbled back with his hold still on your burning cheeks. You bumped against the lone desk that held the old television and sun bleached writing paper that adorned the Motels logo.

“Sufferin’ is nigh, draw to me, m’love. I will keep y’ safe.” Rhett soothed his thumb under your jaw and spoke with a calm and peaceful tone, never wavering in it’s meaning.

You could trust in your Preacher when he told you that he would keep you safe. Rhett told you that you were special. You were the white light that came through the muggy clouds to descend upon Earth itself. You were beautiful, finite and Heaven’s gift, all rolled into one. And if you could continue to stay with him, your sins would be forgiven.

His face shifted as he watched your eyes plead for him. His eyes softened to lull you into safety.

“When a body decomposes, even the iron in their blood still fears the rotting. Everyone is hidin’ from somethin’, ‘nd I cannot stop it. I cannot stop God from choosin’ us.”

Rhett’s reassurances calmed your pounding heartbeat that you could still hear swarming in your ears, yet still, there was a twinge of doubt in your mind.

You fiddled with the frayed hemming on your dress. “Daddy’s left ‘nd Mama won’t come home.”

For the past months, you were walking on shadows with Rhett. You found yourselves dipping in and out for quick, and sinful meetings, in his backroom office at the Church. The last meeting had ended with your knees buckled on the floor and when night came along, your parents had clearly worried where you had got to.

The sight of their own child with the town Preacher’s cock resting heavy in your mouth was enough for them to disown you altogether. It was after that, that Rhett suggested you both get away. The town no longer wanted a filthy Preacher in their midst and he would surely loose his place within the Church.

Rhett’s left hand and thumb reached up to run across your bottom lip. “You poor thing. Sweet, mournin’ lamb.” His thumb dipped in between your lips and you latched your tongue onto the pad of him and sucked him in greedily. “There's nothin’ you can do. It's already been done.”

It was a gentle, yet blunt reminder, but the feeling of your tongue swirling around his thumb made your mind go fuzzy altogether. You kneed into Rhett’s touch with no remorse. It gave you a sense of real fear, what a man like Rhett could bring upon a woman like you.

Your eyes had fluttered shut by this point and you registered the feeling of his right hand leaving your face. You could feel his calloused fingertips slide up your bare thigh and under your dress. His hand didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

Your body jolted under his feverish touch when his large palm cupped your covered cunt. His index and little finger curved around the seam of your underwear and dragged along your lips. You still had your now swollen lips around his thumb, but he pulled it away and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a pitiful whine at the loss. A string of saliva was connecting from the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip.

Rhett shushed you in response as he replaced his thumb with his index and middle finger. They pressed down onto your tongue and you let out a choked sob as they pushed further down. Drool started to pool and drip out the corner of your mouth. It fell down onto the edge of your dress that was now hitched around your hips as his fingers moved passed the barrier of your underwear and slipped into your cunt with no complaint.

Your arousal had come seemingly quicker than before and Rhett had a prideful smile on his face, however your eyes were still scrunched shut and relishing in the taste of Rhett’s flesh and feeling the delicious movement of his fingers burying deep into your cunt, pressing up on the sweet spot that made you silently scream around his fingers.

You were aware that his eager gaze was still on you. No longer were you kept hidden away in a religious and sacred place. You were completely stripped bare for Rhett to see under the dim light in this dirty Motel room. What fear a man like Rhett brings upon a woman like you.

You swallowed around his thick fingers in your mouth and he took it as his sign to remove them from your swollen lips, to allow yourself to compose your erratic breathing. Your eyes blinked opened to his face.

“Please don’t look at me.” You muttered out in between labored breaths, as Rhett’s fingers still showed no sign of slowing down.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as his thumb ran calculated circles on your swollen, and up until now, un-touched clit. How could Rhett ever deny himself of this Heavenly sight.

He was quick to shoot his hand out and his fingers gripped tightly onto your chin to bring back your lulling head to him.

“Show me your face.” He demanded and your pleading eyes moved back to his.

You moaned again at his grip on your chin and inside your cunt, followed by a name.

“F— Father.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head at the name you had mournfully uttered.

“I can see it in your eyes.” He bit back.

He keeps looking at me. Oh, God. I know what he wants. You thought in panic to yourself.

“Tell me, what have y’ done?” He was pushing you further. He knew you were close by the feeling of your walls clenching, then fluttering, around him, but he wouldn’t let you come until you spoke his name.

Your hips were rocking against him as if to try and push his thumb harder against your clit. You were desperate to chase that feeling, yet he slowed down his ministrations. It was still enough to keep you dangling on that edge, but not enough all together at the same time.

“Please, Father. I— I can’t—” You whined out pitifully.

There were tears pricking in the corner of your eyes now. The delicious overstimulation, yet not feeling anything was blissful torture. Although you were seated high on top of the Motel desk, your body felt like it could give way with how hard it was trembling. You shot your hands out instinctively to hold onto Rhett’s large biceps to steady yourself.

Inside, your mind was repeating the one name that Rhett wanted from you. It was on the tip of your tongue, but it wouldn’t escape. He cooed and shushed you in response to your incessant whining and groaning, out of sheer frustration with yourself. Slow and agonizing circles were being ran around your clit.

“I’m the face of loves’ rage, but y’ know I can make this pain all go away. Tell me, what have y’ done, sweet lamb?”

The coil deep within your stomach was threatening to snap any second. All your innocence was currently being held in the palm of Rhett’s hand and you couldn’t hold onto it for much longer.

“Fuck!”

To anyone else the scream would have sounded blood curdling and murderous, but to Rhett, it was the sweet sound of your submission.

“I’ve sinned, Daddy. I’ve sinned!”

The name and words fell so freely from your mouth that it caused Rhett to finally break out into the Devilish grin he’d been hiding all this time. Your head fell back again under his grasp at your admission. All you could feel was his hot breath on your burning ears.

“Good girl.”

Like clockwork, his fingers picked back up their pace. Sliding in and out of you at a steady pace and curling up to press on the sweet spot inside you, that made your own cum seep out from your lips and drip onto the Motel desk. His thumb resumed it’s calculated circles and you could feel yourself hurtling closer and closer to the Heavenly release. His voice was still close to your ear as he started to pray, when he could feel the walls of your wet cunt tighten around him.

“Blessed be the Daughters of Abbott, bound to sufferin’ eternal through the sins of their Fathers committed long before their conception. Blessed be their whore mothers, tired ‘nd angry, waitin’ with bated breath in a ferry that will never move again.”

Strings of strangled cries left your lips as your orgasm approached and hit your whole body with a blinding and warm glow. The final swipe of Rhett’s thumb over your clit was all you needed and your cries turned silent with your nails digging so deep into his flesh that you knew it would mark.

“Blessed be the children, each and every one come to know their God through some senseless act of violence. Blessed be you, girl, promised to me by a man who can only feel hatred and contempt towards you.”

Rhett still continued on through your orgasm. Your hips were bucking ferociously against the palm of his hand, with you trying to rub your sensitive and swollen clit against the heel of his palm, to continue the feeling of the sensation and your earth shattering release.

“I am no good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine. I was there in the dark when you spilled your first blood.”

Your cries turned to incoherent mumblings. You were too drunk off Rhett giving you pleasure to string anything together. Of what he could make out, whilst he was still focused on reciting his prayer was, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

“I am here now, as you run from me still.”

He pulled the palm of his hand away from your cunt and he could feel your cum string from your swollen lips. His fingers pushed and brushed in turn against the sweet spot inside of you and his thumb returned back to your clit with no mercy. Your whole body was jolted back to the dirty motel room at the over sensitivity and your pleading tears now ran hot over your cheeks.

“S’ can’t, Daddy. Sensitive, ‘lease.” You wailed and begged Rhett for his forgiveness.

Your hips bucked again at his fiery touch. It caused the Motel desk to bump against the wall, yet he was still close to your ear and caging you in. The shark had finally had his taste of blood, and Rhett whispered his final prayer and wish.

“Run then, child. You can't hide from me forever.”

verse 111. | these crosses all over my body.

Rhett knew you were still deliberating with the consequences of your recent actions. You were still a devoted child of God after all, and as you lay in the throws of Motel bed sheets and gave yourself to Rhett, you were serving the Lord through him as Rhett was a man of God.

Therefore, he was able to assist you in your ill woes that had you tossing and turning in the night. The Motel bed sheets were scratchy, but nothing like the scratch of guilt that ran down your spine and boiled in your stomach. It was a vile bile that could only be fixed by the hand of God himself.

“Lay down, pull your dress up and relax for me, my sweet lamb.”

You swallowed thickly and gave him a curt nod. The mattress dipped down as you lay back. Your fingertips ran up and over your thighs to fiddle with the hem of your fraying dress and hike it over your spread thighs.

“No underwear? Good girl. You’re learnin’.”

His words made your cheeks flare up out of sheer embarrassment that he was looking at your bare cunt. Rhett had told you not to wear underwear as you may need to serve the lord at anytime.

You felt the mattress dip again and watched as he came to kneel with one leg on the bed and his other foot planted firmly on the sticky floor. Your body jolted alive when you felt Rhett’s nimble fingers brush over your clit and sweep through your folds.

Your cheeks still burned a rosy red, still out of shame for how aroused he could make you as he was towering over you and touching your cunt with the lightest of touches. You scrunched your eyes shut to avoid the heavy and hungry gaze of Rhett, but it was futile.

“Eyes open, my little lamb. Don’t shut me, or the Lord out.”

You let out a small whine when Rhett’s fingers left your pussy but you quickly followed with a harsh gasp as you felt something hard, yet softly curved around the edges, dip in between your folds.

You watched his face with wide eyes as your mind raced to map the shape of the object. His gaze was focused entirely on your cunt and a flash of a Devil’s grin was twitching at the corner of his lips.

“And besides, I want to watch you, as y’ accept the hand of God.”

“Is— Rhett, is it—”

Your hands went flat against the Motel bed sheets before you scrunched them up and into your palms as tightly as you could grasp. Only now could you feel the shape of the object as he worked it deeper into your wet cunt.

When you both escaped to see the West, there wasn’t much time to pack and Rhett only brought the essentials along with him. A few changes of clothes, a Bible and a small cross.

“Yes, my sweet lamb. The hand of God.”

His voice was smooth and like you always had, you trusted in his words and actions. You believed what he was doing was best for you, and so you lay there as a blessed daughter of Abbott, and took the cross.

“Oh, sweet, Preacher Abbott. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your string of praises came out babbled as every so often, Rhett would move the cross to hit the sweet spot deep inside of you. In turn, you would buck your hips ever so slightly and let out debauched moans.

“It may feel good, my little lamb, ‘nd that’s okay. If y’ want t’ come, you ask me, as always.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

verse 1v. | the blood of christ.

Rhett opened the front door of your Motel room with a creak to see your frame curled up on the bed. Your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you let out a muffled groan into the duvet, your body withering.

“You okay, sweet lamb?” He came round the side of the bed and you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he sat beside you, feeling his hand running soothingly up and down your arm.

“M’ on my period. Came just as you left.” You mumbled in defeat into the duvet. Your body was too exhausted to even lift your neck to look at him. Rhett cooed softly as your body shuddered again. Another cramp hit you and an even louder, more frustrated groan, sunk deep into the mattress.

Rhett offered what he could to help, but the cruel reality was that you didn’t have anything with you right now expect pads and tampons. You were in the middle of no where and the local gas station was an hours drive away. He ran his hand over the swell of your ass in your curled position and rested it on your bare thigh. He dipped his fingers ever so slightly in between where they pressed together and he squeezed gently.

“Let your Preacher help you.” Rhett offered, and you finally brought your head up to look at him, with your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Doubtless of your expression, he continued. “Sex can help the pain you’re sufferin’ from.”

You sat up against the headboard with your knees tucked tightly into your chest.

“B— but, Rhett, I’m on my period.” You blinked at him. You were wildly unsure as to what he could possibly be suggesting here that would make this work. “There’ll be blood ‘nd stuff. It’ll get messy.” Your fingers played with each other as they rested on your knees, with you awkwardly avoiding eye contact for such a lewd topic of conversation.

“And? Why do you think we drink wine each communion? To bathe in the blood of Christ.”

You hummed in response to Rhett’s profound words and cocked your head to the side. You would never question your Preacher’s words. He had the word of God and he was always, right.

Rhett slinked his hand down to cup your covered cunt. His gaze softened momentarily. “And, I wan’ help soothe your aching womb.” He applied a deep pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm and a soft, barely audible, moan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering shut. There was no denying that the momentary pleasure jolted through you and calmed the torrent of pain residing in your lower stomach.

You weighed out your options. The only doubt in your mind being that you had never touched yourself on your period, let alone had sex. You were simply told by your Mother that you couldn’t.

Rhett noticed the doubt registering behind your eyes and he pushed down again, firmly to your clit, and another, now louder moan, slipped passed your lips.

“Feels s’ good, Rhett.”

“It would honour me and the Lord if I got to bathe in the blood of Christ, through my pretty little cunt.”

You wasted no time in pressing your lips to Rhett’s and let him keenly rub the heel of his palm against your now aching, clit. Through the thick pad and material of your underwear, it provided a pressure, yet none at all at the same time. It was painfully dizzying. Your clothes were both shed in a flurry, your lips barely pulling apart from each other, only to gulp down air. Rhett pinched lightly at your nipples, knowing how sensitive they would be. It only heightened your ever growing arousal and you let out a breathy moan.

“Need you, Rhett, please.”

His large and calloused hands skimmed down to the hem of your underwear and paused.

“Hold on,” He mutterd against your lip, lightly biting down on your bottom lip as he parted. You whined out at the loss of touch from your Preacher and he chuckled quietly. “Patience, sweet thing. Let me take care of you.” Rhett disappeared to the bathroom and came back with two towels in hand.

“They’ll stain, Rhett!”

Your protests fell on silent ears and Rhett could only respond with a small smirk, pinching at the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll cover it. Don’t worry.”

No doubt with the money he stole from the Church.

He laid them out and you shuffled on top of them. You let your head fall to the scratchy Motel pillow and Rhett covered your body with his, hovering above you. His hands resumed their previous ministrations of cup and tweaking at your breasts with his mouth attached back to yours. His tongue dipped inside to run along your bottom lip and taste you, letting a groan get caught between you both at how sweet you were for him. You felt his hand trail down the soft flesh over your stomach and pull around the hem of your underwear.

“Y’ sure you want to do this, my sweet lamb? We can stop now, or ‘nytime.”

“M’ sure, Rhett. Need you s’ bad.”

“Needy, sweet thing.” Rhett mused back at you with featherlight kisses trailed over your jawline.

He sat back on his haunches and you noticed the prominent outline of his cock straining against his black underwear. You whined again at the loss of Rhett, but he wanted to do this properly. He came to understand how vulnerable this had you feeling. You were his responsibility since he took you out West and he wanted to treat you with the love and care that you deserved. Why, Rhett believed that God took extra time when creating you, and he should treat you as such. As though you were made of precious porcelain.

He peeled back your underwear inch by inch. The flow of cool air from the rattling air conditioning unit hit your bare cunt and it clenched around nothing, shortly followed by heat rising in your cheeks at the sudden embarrassment of Rhett seeing your pad in this state. He continued to hook your underwear off your legs with not a flash of grimace across his face. He was completely neutral as he peeled off your pad and threw it in the bin. His heavy gaze came back to you and he let out a guttural groan.

“Oh, darlin’. Fuck—”

His index finger gently traced around your lips before pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You cried out at his final touch, no longer obstructed and you bucked your hips to follow him.

“—you’ve never looked more beautiful for me, my sweet lamb.”

You didn’t think your cheeks could get a darker shade of red at this point.

“You have nothin’ to hide. It’s me ‘nd you here. The Lord isn’t privy to such a beautiful sight.”

You tugged down on Rhett’s shoulders to pull him into another heated kiss. His sweet praises, mixed with the driving force of hormones flowing through you, went straight to your head and you couldn’t hold on any longer. Rhett made quick work of removing his boxers and giving his cock a few fistfuls before you felt his tip catch against your clit, earning another needy moan from yourself.

“May I, angel?”

“Pleas’, Daddy.” You mewled out in desperation, shifting your hips to try and catch his tip on your aching bundle again.

At the call of that name in particular and how your voice strained with desperation, Rhett understood how much you craved this. It was a name only ushered by yourself in moments of intensity. When your body craved nothing but his pin point accurate touch. When nothing could soothe the gnawing aches and pains in your body but him. Rhett was the medicine for your ailment.

He held back for not a moment longer and sunk into you. Your lips parted and a cry tore from your throat at feeling the stretch of his cock fill you up in a way you could never adjust to. Your walls were warm around him, warmer than he’d felt before. They hugged and drew him in closer with the crook of your heel digging into his back.

“Baby, baby, baby…” Rhett groaned with his head falling into the crook of your neck and inhaling your familiar scent. The feeling was all encompassing and all knowing to you both. “S’ fuckin’ tight, little lamb.”

“Daddy!” You whined. “Pleas’, move.”

At your instruction, Rhett swiftly moved his hips to meet yours, before pulling nearly all the way out. There was no need for the usual ferocious pacing of his hips. With every drawn out thrust, you squeezed at him tight and he knew he wouldn’t hold on for much longer. His tip ran over the sweet spot buried deep inside of you and with each thrust, you felt your cramps simmer away to nearly nothing. Your clit was throbbing by this point. It was desperate to feel some sort of friction, and once Rhett had developed a steady pace, his thumb pressed down. A string of pleasurable groans left your lips and in unison, Rhett responded with a quiet whimper. He could feel with each swipe of his thumb how your body was reacting to him. The heels of your feet dug in deeper to his flesh, to lock his hips in place with every thrust. Your fingertips were making outlines of crescent shapes on his toned shoulders.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, pleas’, Daddy. M’ so close.”

“Me too, sweet lamb— oh, fuck.” A drawn out moan was swallowed whole as Rhett pressed his lips to yours, heat radiating off you both and eliciting the first beads of sweat. With your cramps now almost fully dissolved, all you could feel growing was your ever impending orgasm. It was the precision work of Rhett’s thumb rubbing calculated circles over your clit and his cock hitting you so deep, that each time it jolted a spark alight in your lower stomach and you felt yourself crashing closer.

“Yesyesyes—” Your thighs squeezed around Rhett tightly and your back arched off the towels to push yourself impossibly closer to Rhett as he worked you through the wave of your orgasm that overtook your body whole. Your walls were squeezing him so tight and milking him dry for all that he had, that he wasn’t far behind. He came with a shudder of his body and an elongated groan into your shoulder, followed by your name.

“That’s it, good girl. Shit, you did ‘s good for me.”

Your foreheads were stuck together with the glistening slick of sweat. Rhett pressed flurries of kisses along your jaw and underneath your earlobe, gently encouraging you as you caught your breath back. You grimaced when he eventually pulled his softening cock out. You could feel the string of multiple bodily fluids fall from your cunt, but Rhett shushed you softly and told you to wait there. He came back with a damp washcloth, lukewarm in temperature as to not enrage your cunt any further. He cleaned you up gently, stuck a new pad on a clean pair of underwear and dressed you in his tattered religious Youth Camp t-shirt.

More of Rhett’s praiseful kisses were placed to your forehead as you rested in his arms before he spoke up. “Y’ want food? Shower? Watch somethin’?” The beat up television in the corner of the Motel room hadn’t looked appealing at first, but there was something about mindless television to match with the relief your body currently felt, that didn’t seem too bad.

Something was eventually playing on the television, but you couldn’t remember what. The quiet hum of the television static, Rhett’s rhythmic breathing under your ear and the gentle swipe of his fingertips over your arms was lulling you. The agitating throb of your cramps were gone and your body felt as though it was sinking deep into the mattress. Your eyes were falling shut, but quickly blinking back to life as to continue to fixate on the screen.

Rhett took a look down at you fighting to stay awake and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He tucked a stray strand of your hair away from your face and behind your ear.

“Sleep, little lamb. I’ll be here when y’ wake up, we can shower then. Jus’, rest.” Rhett’s voice was low, with his Southern drawl making a heavier appearance. It was the final push you needed to be completely pulled under.

verse v. | august underground.

Rhett’s truck dimmed in life as he parked you both up, back at the Motel. You had been out to the diner across town for something to eat. It was for dinner, although it was currently nearing ten o’clock at night. You turned to Rhett and flashed him a coy smile as you got out of the truck. You purposefully swayed your hips as you walked up to your Motel door. Rhett waited a few steps behind as you leant against the door. You crooked your index finger and beckoned for Rhett to follow in your footsteps.

You were enjoying your journey out West. You saw sights you had never dreamed about seeing, you shared some of your deepest and most private thoughts with your Preacher and indulged in some of your darkest fantasies, but it grew very much the same, day in and day out. You would park up at a Motel, stay for some nights, get food, visit the local towns and move on. The instinct inside of you craved something new, something else. Something that would put that zing! of thrill back into your veins. You hadn’t experienced such a feeling since you were caught by your parents with your Preacher’s cock resting heavy on your tongue.

Rhett had now placed one hand firmly above your head on the Motel door. He was partly caging you in, like a feral animal. He had to be cautious with you outside in public, where anyone could see you. That, with the combined factor that you had been teasing him all night at the diner and you were now baring your teeth to him. Your index finger and thumb pinched on Rhett’s chin lightly and your tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip. He wanted to pinch that tongue of yours himself. His eyes didn’t move an inch and they were pierced directly on you, eagerly awaiting your next move. He bore into the back of your skull and took in the sight of you whole. It caused a hot flush to wash over your body and your cheeks couldn’t hold back from turning a dusty pink colour. The thick musk of Rhett was radiating off him. It was a mixture of sweat and day old clothes. It made your cunt thrum between your thighs.

“Will y’ let your little lamb have some fun tonight?” Your tone was sweet and innocent. You batted your eyelashes at him in an attempt to convince him, but he didn’t need convincing. Rhett’s cock twitched in his jeans at the sudden switch in your demeanor. How you became more confident and started to toy with him. He growled a “yes” in response, and you smirked. You moved your lips millimeters away from his to speak. “Close your eyes, count to ten. Then, come find me, Daddy.” Rhett fleeting closed his eyes to follow your instructions and to reach down to kiss you—

Where the fuck, had you gone?

Rhett’s head quirked to the left as he heard your footsteps trail off around the side of the Motel. He chuckled sinisterly. He knew exactly where you were heading.

“Run then, little lamb. You can't hide from me forever.” Rhett muttered quietly to himself. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, as per your instructions.

Your feet were carrying you as fast as they could into the woods behind the Motel. Left foot, right foot, thumping rhythmically on the ground beneath you. You knew you only had ten seconds to get ahead, but you also knew Rhett had long legs and fast strides. They were quick enough to catch up with you in twenty seconds, if you weren’t careful. You ran deeper into the rows of trees. The tendons of muscles in your calves were building up a warmth already. Your feet were crunching on twigs and leaves beneath you with each step and you knew you had to be careful not to trip and seriously hurt yourself. The light from the Motel and highway was fading quick as you made your way deeper inside the woods.

Just as you had predicted, around twenty seconds in, you heard the faint following of rhythmic footsteps behind you. There weren’t heavy enough to tell you Rhett was close, but a far away whistled tune could be heard. What was that tune? You knew it, you knew it so well it was on the tip of your tongue. “Something… Something in the sky?” You thought to yourself momentarily before you were dragged out of your thoughts and re-directed to Rhett’s voice now catching up to you and the heavy pacing steps of his boots.

“Fuck, they’re faster than I thought. Like a fuckin’ bunny.” Rhett thought. He paused in his pacing for a moment and instinctively reached down to the small hunting knife that was tied to his ankle under his boot. This was fun and Rhett’s cock was straining through his jeans at the thought of pinning you down to the forest floor and fucking you, but he knew he had to be careful. You were a run away and if someone came across you, he would need to act quick and leave no trace of you. The thought was becoming increasingly frustrating for him and he needed to find you, sharpish. He’d had enough of your games. It was time for the wolf to catch his prey.

“Suffering is nigh, little lamb!” Rhett called out through the dense tree line. “Draw to me! Don’t run from your Preacher, don’t run from God.”

You could hear his voice closing in on you now, and you knew you had to pick up the pace as he was getting closer. You flicked your head behind to see if you could catch a glimpse of him, but to no avail. The darkness was velvet and gave no inclination to where he was. When you turned your head back, your face came into contact with a low hanging branch. Instinctively, you held out your arms to block the blow, but the sudden motion caused you to stumble on your feet and fall forward onto your stomach. You couldn’t hold back the shriek as you fell.

Rhett’s ears perked up at the sound of your defeated cry and the branches breaking collectively underneath you.

You were close.

Your arms were outstretched in front of one another and scrambling desperately at the ground to try and pull yourself up. Damp leaves fisted up into your palms, with your nails digging into the mud. The sharp twigs below dug into your bare forearms and you cursed out loud at the dull pain it brought you. A flurry of adrenaline drove through your body as you heard Rhett’s heavy booted foot steps mere meters away and crunching on leaves.

“There y’ are!” Rhett purred out with condescension lacing his tone thickly. You let out a squeal and your body jolted as he grabbed ahold of your ankles and drew you back along the forest floor towards him under his towering figure. You squirmed under his tight grasp, but you were unable to fight your Preacher as he turned your body around on the ground to face him.

Although it was now completely dark in the depth of the forest, your eyes had adjusted with the low glow of light pollution up above you both. Rhett’s face was a freighting shadow, but you could make out the menacing creases in his face. How his eyebrows were knitted tightly together and the corner of his lips quirked upwards. For a split second, there was a look you had never seen on your Preacher before. It flashed across his face and shone deep in his eyes. He was smiling down at you, but with a sinister and sick smile. The Devil himself. You caught a glimpse of his small hunting knife in his hand. It reflected off the low light before he threw it to the ground. It caused your stomach to heave and something, twitch between your thighs.

The face of your Preacher that you knew came back and he knelt down onto the leaves to position you. One of his large hands were wrapped neatly around both of your wrists and pinning you harshly to the ground. His other hand was wrapped tightly around your throat. It kept you perfectly in place for Rhett to end your little game. His knee came to be wedged in between your thighs and applied a delicious friction on your clit through the thin material of your underwear. You didn’t come to notice how much this little game had aroused you until now.

Still, you protested and writhed under his tight grasp. Rhett pushed his knee forward and applied a deeper pressure to your clit with his thick muscle. A pitiful and pathetic whine escaped your lips and Rhett only barked laughter in your face and pushed harder. “Did you enjoy this lil’ game, sweet lamb? Teasin’ me like that, makin’ me chase you? My cunt is givin’ you away so easily,” Rhett mocked with amusement heavy in his tone. You were unable to hold back how desperate you were, and your body went limp against the forest floor. You gave in. You submitted mercy to your Preacher to do anything to you that he wanted.

“Good girl for gettin’ us all the way out here. No one can hear your precious ‘nd pretty little screams now.”

verse v1. | r.a.

It was exhilarating.

You had recently become more adventurous and allowed Rhett to chase you through the back of the Motel woods and fuck you against the dirty forest floor, but the experience of feeling his hunting knife draw along your skin was something far more vulnerable. It needed to be done in the safety and confines of something familiar. A Motel room wasn’t that for you, but the back of Rhett’s truck pulled off in a deserted location, was. You had spent many nights in the back of his truck and it was the closest thing to a home you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

The soft blankets cushioning your trembling frame underneath you were a harsh comparison to the razor-thin blade currently pressing on your tender flesh and drawing down. He had you caged in entirely, with one of his broad forearms resting beside your face and his large body nearly covering yours. He left enough room between the two of you so he could nimbly move his hunting knife down the valley of your breasts. Goosebumps rose in its Devilish wake, and from the low light of Rhett’s camping torch, you could see his wicked grin drawing across his lips.

He let the point of his knife flick upwards on the softest part of your left breast. It caused a small cut to appear, no more than a centimetre in length. One of your hands shot up to grab at Rhett’s forearm at the sudden pin prick. It startled your senses and your chest heaved. You gasped loudly, but when you cried out his name it turned into a moan.

“Rhett!”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and shook his head. “Cry all you want, sweet lamb. No one can hear you, ‘nd you’re enjoyin’ this, I know y’ are.”

You whined in defeat and let your thighs fall together and rub aimlessly. His gaze zoned in on the small trickle of your ceremonial blood coming out of the gash. He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue. You swore you could’ve seen drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. It was as if he was starving for his first blood, but the camping light was too low to allow you to notice.

“Tell me, where d’ y’ wan’ me to go?” Rhett’s low voice cut through the night. He pressed his hunting knife back to the soft plush of your breasts and trailed it lower until he was pressing against the inseam of your dress. You chewed at the inside of your cheek and swallowed thickly. Your request was on the tip of the tongue, but asking for it required your Preacher’s gentle coaxing.

“Go on.” His voice was softer and barely above a whisper.

“D— down, there.”

“Down, where? Use your words or I’ll cause a lot more damage, believe me.”

His tone switched back to nearing frightening at the snap of a finger. A frightful whimper left your lips as your mind caught up to the position you currently found yourself in. Your heart was pounding so hard against your rib cage you thought Rhett could hear it.

“Your c— cunt. I want to feel it.”

“Atta, girl.” Rhett cooed. He was quick to swivel the blade of his hunting knife along your dress and catch under the buttons that ran down. With pinpoint accuracy, he cut the thread of the first four buttons. You yelped with a loud cry when he freed them in quick succession. Your bare breasts became exposed to the cool night air. He let the knife fall to the truck with a clang and he snarled. He bared his teeth to you as his large hands fisted at the rest of your buttons and ripped them apart with his bare hands.

His fiery touch was on your breasts in an instant. He groped and gripped at the tender flesh and palmed it along his calloused palm.

His nimble fingertips turned inwards and pinched at both of your nipples, continually tweaking them and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The harsh tugs caused you to cry out a cracked moan. His lips crashed against yours with your teeth meeting too. As he rutted his clothed crotch against yours, he swallowed your needy moans down when his tongue swiped along the inside of your mouth. He parted to let his teeth tug harshly at your bottom lip, so hard he could draw more blood from you tonight. It caused you to cry again into his mouth.

He grunted against your lips when he parted completely, “Mine, mine, mine. All fuckin’, mine.”

You were completely naked to the night sky. All that kept you hidden was your underwear resting on your hips. Your Preacher saw your vulnerability at this moment and wanted to mark you as his. Not something that would fade over time such as a hickie, no. Something that would be drawn into your flesh until the end of your time.

As he pulled apart from you, he snickered at the sight of your hooded eyes with your pupils overcome with desire. Your lips were already plush and starting to swell from the graze of his own, plus three-day-old stubble. You came to cradle his face with your hands with pitiful whines escaping your mouth.

“Shh, shh, sweet lamb.” You hummed in peace and let your Preacher’s words carry you, squirming your hips upwards to meet his. “It’s alright. I’ve got y’, I ain’t leavin’ you. If y’ let me, I’ll bind y’ to me forever. Will y’ let me?”

You frowned momentarily, but when you saw Rhett reach for his hunting knife off the floor of his truck you let out a silent, “Oh.”

“Do y’ trust me?” Rhett asked again.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He bent down once more to place a heated kiss on your lips, letting his free hand cradle your jaw gently and run his thumb over your cheek. It was a gesture from Rhett that you found the most comforting.

He drew himself upwards and sat back to straddle your thighs. His thighs were wrapped tightly around yours to keep you firmly in place. It allowed you no room to struggle against him. The pinpoint touch of his knife found its place back atop the valley of your breasts. In sequenced movements, he trailed it over the soft mounds of your breasts and teased around the tender flesh of your nipples. Your breath hitched and caught tightly in your throat as he prodded there. You knew one slight movement and you’d lose them.

You locked eyes with Rhett and a groan left his throat. Your eyes were wide with panic and pleading desperately with him not to hurt you so bad, but they were blown near black with desire. The sight caused his jeans to strain impossibly tighter around his cock. He let out a sinister chuckle and let his blade move away from your sensitive nipples that were perked stiffly.

He drew it over your ribs and then to your stomach, where he allowed the blade to push a little harder. Rhett knew your flesh wasn’t so sensitive here and the blade cut a seam roughly four centimetres in length, just under your left rib. His thumb smeared the blood across your skin and he let the tip of his thumb press a little deeper into the incision. A snarl twitched onto Rhett’s face again. The blade was far enough from your body to allow your hips to buck slightly and another shaky moan left your lips.

“Rhett! Please, God… I—”

“God isn’t here.”

He bit back in a beat and his Heavenly smirk dropped in a flash. His face was cold. His thumb from your incision was placed between his lips and he sucked down on the sweet taste of your blood. He snarled again, and when he bared his teeth you saw the reflection of your blood staining across his teeth.

“I— What?!”

The tip of his knife found a spongy spot of flesh around your hip bone and he dug in. Another cry tore from your throat and your eyes squeezed shut at the stinging sensation that was currently being drawn through your skin.

Rhett’s free hand moved to cup your clothed cunt. “Shh, shh. I’m here, it’s okay, sweet lamb. I’m here.”

When you opened your eyes again, your desperate eyes fell to Rhett’s and you gasped out a shaky sigh of relief to see the familiar face of your Preacher. His eyes were focused intently on where his blade was travelling and he wore a malicious yet smug grin as he provided you such indescribable pleasure. A tight knot mixed with pain and pleasure was curling in the lower half of your stomach, and the illusion of safety was placed back around you like a blanket.

“God loves you, but not enough to save you. ‘m here for that, little lamb. I will save you.” He punctuated every syllable. He was careful to let the blade not fall deep enough to cause permanent harm, just enough to etch his mark onto your skin. He needed to preserve you.

As he drew the remaining lines across your hip bone, the heel of his palm that was pressed against your underwear pressed down onto your clit causing a jolt of pleasure through you and a wanton moan to escape your throat. It was intoxicating, how he could deliver such pain but still manage to coat it in the shiny slick of your arousal that was currently forming between your thighs.

He sat back and let the blade fall to the floor of the truck again. He wore a wicked smile with faint traces of yourself still covering his teeth. “Look at you. Such a pretty sight for your Preacher. Marked as mine forever.” His darkened eyes were fixated on your hips. You sat up on your elbows to take a look and you shakily let out a gasp.

The letters, R.A. were carved intricately onto your skin. Trickles of red were falling from your hip and another press from Rhett’s heel of his palm had you softly whining. The claim of Rhett’s name tattooed into your flesh had your eyelids feeling heavy and your cheeks warm. Your stomach was churning with waves of need, needing to feel your Preacher kiss away the pain and draw you to orgasm to snap that knot that was curling in your stomach.

“Need you.” You panted, and he obliged within the blink of an eye. He dropped down your frame and situated himself between your thighs, taking his hunting knife with him for one last time. He let the dull and cool side of the blade press against your pubic bone, as he slit the razor edge upwards to cut off your underwear in one swift and fluid motion. A low chuckle was heard followed by the click of his tongue.

“Little lamb,” Rhett taunted. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. My pretty cum is stuck to y’ underwear. This get y’ goin’ so bad, hm?” He lazily swiped his finger through your folds and pressed the calloused pad of his finger on your clit. You let out a feeble whine and your hips bucked upwards to chase his touch.

“Y— yes, fuck! Yes, Daddy.” You choked out.

“Y’ like the idea of Daddy cuttin’ his name onto you like that? Markin’ y’ as mine?”

You whimpered and shook your head vigorously to agree.

“Oh, sweet thing. How far you’ve strayed.”

Your cunt was glistening with your arousal and the shining of your lips. Rhett had already tasted the sins of the flesh, but he was hungry for something sweeter. His lips attached your clit instantly and sucked harshly. A loud cry was all that could be heard from you. It muffled out the sloppy sounds of his tongue lapping through your folds and sucking heinously on your swollen and untouched bundle of nerves. Your cries were called out into the velvet night, but they were lost in the sea of stars. There was no one around for miles to hear you, and even though your body was completely exposed to the night, you felt no shame as your Preacher ate away at his pussy like it was the last supper he was to feast on.

Your hands had shot out to grip his strands of hair and tug harshly. His face was completely pressed up against your pussy, but you craved him deeper. You wanted him to cut open your stomach and crawl under your skin, to allow you pleasure for the rest of your life. For Rhett to live on inside you forever was all you could think of right now, in this very moment as his tongue prodded and licked at your engorged clit. His own large hands came to grip onto your hips and this thumb pressed gently into the markings on your hip bone.

Although he was drunkenly feasting on your cunt, he prodded carefully at your incision. When he drew his tongue up your folds and caught it on your clit, he would press the pad of his thumb down to elicit a burst of pain and pleasure. Each time it caused you to moan wantonly and press your thighs around his shoulders tighter. It was a merciless assault on your clit with each stroke from his wet muscle pushing you closer to teetering off that all-familiar edge. All that could be heard from Rhett was his muffled grunts and groans, occasionally deep breaths from his nostrils as he inhaled your scent that was seeping through your lips. The low lighting from his camping light caused you not to see how he was grinding his hips down onto the truck bed. His cock was straining hard against his jeans and he craved the rough and tightly constructed friction. Experiencing the same painful pleasure as yourself and knowing it was him doing this to you, had him intertwined with your body. It was enough to push him to the same edge as yourself.

Another moan got caught in your throat but was torn out without hesitation as Rhett’s tongue pressed and then drew repeated circles around your sensitive clit. He repeated this motion and you felt the knot pulling tightly together and ready to snap. He could tell you were close. The way your chest was heaving, in a weak attempt to catch your breath, how your thighs were trembling furiously by his face and how your fingertips clawed tightly at his hair.

“‘m… ‘m, gon— fuck, fuck, fuck! Rhett!”

You choked back a sob and heaved as the wave of pleasure tore through your abdomen and sparked through your body, touching every end nerve you had. Your bare body was twitching with your hips thrashing against Rhett’s scratchy stubble, craving more friction.

Tearful sobs of, “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” were relentless as Rhett held onto your hips firmly to keep his tongue pressed to your clit. It allowed for your arousal to flow heavily onto his tongue. Guttural groans were muffled against you as he tasted everything you had to give him. He continued his assault on your now ever-sensitive clit, but gently eased up on his strokes as the sparks of pleasure drowned out and washed over your body in a blissful glow.

You were dizzy. Your eyes glazed over and your speech slurred.

“Rhett…” You whined and reached out your trembling hands to cradle his face as he came up from your soaked thighs. His chin shone with the reflection of your cum and the faintest pink stain of your blood still on his teeth. He pressed his hot cheek into your palm and nuzzled against your tender hand, his own hands holding gently onto your forearms. “Do y’ want me to…”

He let out a snicker. “No need, sweet lamb.”

You frowned and squinted down at his jeans to see the very obvious stain blossoming through the material. You laughed faintly, your grin lopsided and pleasure drunk.

“C’ere, I need to care for my precious little lamb.” He leaned back down and scooped his broad forearm under your back to sit you up. His other hand came underneath your thighs to lift you and hoist you to his frame. He shuffled down to the end of the truck and carried you around to sit you down gently in the passenger seat. Before you told Rhett you wanted to experience something as exhilarating as this, you had agreed to pack spare clothes and all the medical supplies you would require.

You whined when he left your side momentarily, but he was back in a second with the supplies. He dressed you in his old Christian Youth Camp t-shirt, covered by his plaid shirt. He carefully slipped a pair of his boxers over your naked lower half, but then peeled down the edges to look at your hip.

He stood in the door of the passenger seat and cracked open the medical supplies that were required. With the faintest and most careful of touches, he gently patted at his initials and other markings with a cotton pad. Your face winced and you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, little groans left your dry throat.

Rhett let out a gentle, “Shh, shh,” and he cooed at you again with his fingers cutting through the hair on your forehead to soothe you.

“I know, darlin’, I know, it stings. But I need to take good care of you. We must preserve this. But y’ took me s’ well. You look s’ pretty for me. S’ proud of you, I love you.”

He pressed kiss after kiss to your temple as he patched you up and left the bandages where they needed to be. He cradled your warm cheek in his hand as he tipped the water bottle upwards so you could drink from it. It was cooling down your throat that had been scratched from loud and pleasurable moans.

“Good girl, good girl.” Rhett praised you again and you let out a little whimper, keening into his touch. You swallowed down the water and he wiped away the remaining droplets with his thumb.

“Will y’ always take such good care of me, Rhett?”

You blinked at him with an innocent gaze. For in your clouded eyes, Rhett marking you with his initials meant that he was bound to you forever now. With the spilling of your blood, through life and death, He would be there to take care of you. You had travelled nearly across America, and the sight of your blood bared on Rhett’s teeth was the final nail into your palm to bound you to him.

“Y’ a Daughter of Abbott, yes?” His hands squeezed at your arms and he held your gaze intensely.

“Yes.” You breathed out, barely above a whisper. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs momentarily as his cobalt eyes bore into yours without wavering. He had you nailed to him.

“I will make ‘em eat the flesh of their sons ‘nd daughters, ‘nd they will eat one another’s flesh because their enemies will press the siege s’ hard against ‘em to destroy them.”

He quoted the verse from Jeremiah that you were familiar with. You had heard Rhett mutter it to himself repeatedly within the quiet confines of the Church walls, all that time ago. Your eyes went wide with understanding and your lips fell into an, ‘o’ shape and then a lovesick smile.

“I will protect you from the siege, sweet lamb. By carving my name and consuming your blood. No one can destroy us.”

verse v11. | the thoroughfare motel tapes.

Rhett had guarded his heart like a fed from the moment you met him. Through the times he had you bent over his wooden desk in his back office at the Church, to lying with him at night in a Motel bed. On occasions, such as the other night when he chased you through the woods as a game, you thought you saw into him. You thought you saw something real, but it was quickly faltered back to the Preacher you knew. None the less, you were getting closer to the end of your destination with each passing Motel and tin shaped diner as you made your way out West. Perhaps it was the force of proximity, or that Rhett knew your journey was coming to an end, but one night on the passing roads, Rhett opened up to you.

“I was twelve years old ‘nd son of a Preacher. I loved him and the love he had for my Mother. Subsequently, he made me fall in love with America. But, my Mama, she was always good for makin’ me cry,” Rhett shook his head and scoffed, his tone gritting between his teeth. “Everythin’ in that fuckin’ town wanted me dead, ‘till I was holdin’ a gun to my head and I knew I had to go.” The sound of his truck hummed through the blackout night and you turned in your seat to watch with intent as he spoke. “I was seventeen ‘nd I knew I had to see it all. I had to get out and go chasin’ its sweet call,” Rhett motioned forward with his hand, then paused. “But I was scared of the world. I ended up standin’ over my Ma’s casket, thinkin’ I was next. I was scared I’d end up like my Pa. I looked in a mirror and I was beggin’ myself for more time.”

Rhett paused for another moment, but his eyes were still fixed on the dim lit road ahead. You could see him replaying it as a ghost of a memory behind those tired eyes and you felt for him. You realized you were no less different compared to him.

He let out a defeated and tired sigh, and then his demeanor switched as he recalled something else behind those cobalt blue eyes. “But then I met, well caught, you.” He had a grin on his face now. “Y’ came in to my Church lookin’ like a backwater girl and America’s sweetheart.” He reached over and squeezed the flesh of your knee with a grin still on his face. You squealed in response and playfully swatted at his hand to stop the sensation that caused your nerve endings to turn into television static.

“Y’ didn’t trust no one.” Rhett huffed out a laugh as you fought to keep his hand away from the pressure points on your knee.

“That’s because the whole town found me suckin’ the Preachers cock.” You quipped back at him with amusement in your tone.

Rhett hummed in pride as he recollected the memory. “I remember though, what you said to me.”

You looked down towards your lap where your fingers intertwined and busied themselves with one another. You were trying to avoid Rhett’s curious gaze at your admittance of remembering something so fondly.

“You said, don’t run, I’ll take you anywhere. I mean fuck, we were both outta luck, but at least your truck beats walking to the fuckin’ West.” You looked out of the truck window as you spoke. It was dark for the most part, only with a couple far off city lights pathing the way, but it helped with the silence that fell heavy over the truck.

You heard Rhett exhale deeply and shift in his seat. “Before I came to your town, I was in Florida. I had no one to worry about leavin’ for and no one left to love. But now that I’ve met you, fuck. I finally know jus’ where I’m headin’. Remember when I was all alone in my house and I was fuckin’ your guts like I hated you? I didn’t hate you, sweet lamb. I just kept prayin’ you’ll save me. You made me fuckin’ crazy.”

You felt a sense of clarity clear your head at Rhett’s admission. Your whole body shuddered at the physical memory. It was the first time he invited you round to his house. It was no more than a week after your run in in the Church toilets and the first time he fucked you in his back office at the Church.

He snuck you in. He was careful not to let anyone spot you visiting the town Preacher’s house during the dead of night. Rhett had claimed he’d been alone all day and he needed someone to kill his loneliness with. He had your legs doubled over and his cock hitting your cervix so furiously, that you could see him bulge in your lower abdomen. At the time, you thought you’d done something to warrant such loathsome sex, but it became clear as Rhett explained to you in his truck, that this night was because he didn’t know how to control himself anymore. He spat in your mouth for the first time that night. Your own mouth salivated as you recalled the animalistic action. You understood now that he was spitting his love into your mouth. He needed you, and it came out in the most frustrating way he knew how.

“I think I’ve found a way to show y’ how much y’ mean to me, when you’re lookin’ all pretty, lyin’ in those sheets undressed.” Rhett motioned to the backseat in his truck as he kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. You leant over and retrieved the plastic bag. You reached inside and fished out an old film camera. It was still in its box with the cardboard tattered around the corners. “I wan’ remember everythin’ when we get to the West.” Rhett reached over again to touch your knee, but this time his hand skimmed higher and squeezed at your thigh. You felt a million and one butterflies swarm your stomach at what your Preacher was implying.

“When?” You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the selfish grin spreading across your face.

“Tonight, once we reach this Motel. Wear that pretty set I got you. I wan’ get alone with you, sweet lamb.”

“Yes, Father.”

Your son of a Preacher, sinful as ever. You were all over him like a burning rash as he drew closer to the Motel. Your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt and your lips placed chaste kisses over his neck. Occasionally your tongue would dip out and soak up the salty taste of his sweat that had been simmering for a day or two. It was heaven to you. A concoction that you would go back for time and time again. Eventually, Rhett parked up at the Motel. He paid with the cash he stole from the Church and guided you to your Motel room, with his hand placed firmly on your lower back. He never strayed far from his precious lamb. It was as if to guide his lamb to the slaughter.

Once inside, you fished out the set Rhett had bought you a couple of towns back and slipped it on in the en-suite. The set was simple. It came from a town that hadn’t seen much of the newest century and you wondered momentarily if someone could have been murdered in it. It was cream and white, but a perfect white. Lacy details that had tiny flowers embroidered on, ran around the base of the bra. The underwear curved perfectly and the straps from the garter belt ran over the swell of your ass that was still tinged a baby pink colour from Rhett’s hands two nights before. The garter belt was attached to cream coloured stockings, and it made your thighs look like a place Rhett wanted to hide his face away in for the rest of eternity, until the end of Armageddon if he had to.

“You look like a virgin born again, my sweet lamb. Or, a lamb brought to the slaughter. Shall we find out which?” Rhett’s index finger lazily pointed to the ground beneath his boots. He needed no definite command to tell you exactly where you were to end up. You moved as gracefully as you could to stand in-between Rhett’s wide spread thighs at the edge of the bed. His calloused hands made contact with the backs of your thighs and your body jolted alive at his fervent touch. As if to elicit this image to memory forever, Rhett’s hands moved up and over your legs, finding their home on your ass. He issued a light, yet solid slap, to the soft flesh that made an easy moan fall from your lips, your skin still tender from before.

“I’m in love with your body, that’s why I’m fuckin’ it up, y’ know?” In sequence, as if Rhett had the rhythm of a hymn playing in his head, he delivered five more curt slaps to your supple flesh, each of them burning a fire on your skin. Instinctively, your palms reached out to grip at Rhett’s plaid shirt, with your body wilting forwards against him. Something of a merciful groan left your lips, as if to beg Rhett to stop, but you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to—

“Baby,” Rhett’s tone warned you. “If it feels good, then it can’t be bad.” Somehow, he always knew the right thing to say to discourage your doubt, and you let him continue to welt the supple flesh of your ass with his calloused palm.

“Turn around.” Rhett ordered with a gruffness in his voice. He planted his palm on the round of your ass and curved your thigh to direct you towards the blinking red light in the corner of the Motel room. You tiptoed on your feet to position yourself. His hands snaked along your hips and squeezed the soft flesh of your stomach, before leaving your body momentarily and picking up the small cross he’d packed with him.

The camera had the view finder flipped around so you could watch as Rhett didn’t let up his ministrations of marking your ass, yet this time, using the harsh material of the wooden cross. His stern gaze was fixed directly on you through the screen and you squirmed under his touch. You were unable to break away from his damning gaze and you were completely at his mercy. From however far away you were from Rhett, he would always pull you under with his cold-blooded stare and let it bleed all over you. At the back of your mind, doubt started to cloud you senses. You wondered if you had read this all wrong, especially that night when he chased you through the woods. That was something different entirely. What if he hated you? What if it was too late to—

“Do y’ want to hurt me?” Your voice wavered and babbled out before you had even registered what you’d said. Tears stung in the corners of your eyes from the painful pleasure shooting through your lower back as his cross continued to meet your ass, before it came to a sudden halt and was dropped on the bed. His hands ran soothingly over your now deep rouge coloured flesh.

“Hurt you?” Rhett twisted you by your waist to face him as you stood still in between his thighs. His hands didn’t leave you and the warmth of his palm spread over you to dull the ache that he’d created with the hand of God. “My sweet lamb, I never wan’ to hurt you. I wan’ to love you.”

You looked down at him and blinked away your tears in a flurry. His thumb came up to smooth over your cheeks and wipe them away, feeling your baby hairs on the corner of your jaw. The cobalt blue of Rhett’s eyes reflected in the dim lighting of the Motel room and his prior hardened gaze, had softened entirely. You watched as his eyes traced over your face and every feature you wore. Time stood completely still in this moment, in this particular Motel room, now not far from the West. You started to see Rhett differently, and for the first time since you were a child, you could see a man who wasn’t angry.

“You wanna… love me, right now?” You questioned with hesitation in your voice. You and Rhett had disclosed your love to one another time and time again, but this time, it was different and you weren’t familiar with the sincerity in Rhett’s tone.

“I wan’ fuck you, I wan’ see you on your knees, I wan’ rip this fuckin’ piece off,” his index finger tugged at the band of your garter belt and let it slap against your thigh. “But more than anythin’, I wan’ make love to you.”

“You wanna see me on my knees?” A playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you bit down gently onto your bottom lip when Rhett let out a grumbled growl. He delivered one more smack to your ass before pointing over to the camera that had since been forgotten about in the corner of the room. You understood what Rhett was silently implying.

You handed it to him and descended to your knees at the bottom of the bed. You situated yourself neatly in-between Rhett’s thighs and felt the rough tapestry of the Motel carpet scratch at your knees. He brought the lens of the camera up to point directly at the sinful sight below him. He leant back ever so slightly on one arm to allow the view finder to take in every angle of your poised position. “Smile for the camera, my pretty little lamb.” You gazed up at him through your lashes and smiled a sickly sweet smile. A groan got caught in his throat at the sight below him and his cock strained dangerously tight against his jeans. Rhett didn’t have a spare hand and he gestured for you to take the reins. Your hands slinked up his tense thighs and un-did his large belt buckle. It fell to the side with a clang! against the metal. You could already see the bulge outlined underneath his boxers. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the salvia pooling already in your mouth from dribbling out.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. Lord knows you’ve had this cock a million times.” Rhett snarked in response to watching your pupils double the size.

“I- I know, it’s just,” you pointed to the camera in Rhett’s hands and stifled a giggle. He cooed and brought his hand to smooth around your cheeks and hold your chin upto him. How his sweet lamb had strayed so far from the flock and ended up in the Lord’s arms, wearing white that barely hid the temptations of your own body. You had come alone into Rhett’s maliciously corrupt arms, from however far away you were before, and he thought it sweet how you were now getting shy.

“Do what your Preacher tells you.” Rhett’s tone was firm and you knew it was the beginning of a stern warning from him. The previous ache on your ass twinged and you were swiftly reminded of the consequences that would follow if you didn’t obey your Preacher.

Your fingers made quick work of freeing his aching cock from the confines of his underwear. A quiet grunt escaped him as he felt your hand clasp around him and squeeze him lightly. He was hot and heavy under your touch and his broad tip was glistening an angry red colour. He momentarily removed your hand and spread your palm in front of his face. He pursed his lips together and a direct line of his spit came into contact with your palm. You wrapped yourself around him again and in steady motions, you ran your lubricated hand over his length, remembering to work your thumb over his sensitive tip, just as he had showed you before.

A now louder grunt bubbled up through his throat, but he was steady enough to still hold the camera in focus of you. Up until this point, you had focused on the engorging sight before you, but Rhett wanted to see you become immoral in his lap. His hand reached up to cup your chin again and tilt your face upwards. His thumb ran along your bottom lip and pushed itself past to press down forcefully on your tongue, jolting your jaw open.

“Out.” Rhett barked. You instinctively pushed your tongue past your lips and let it hang freely. He lowered his head and pursed his lips together again. Another splat of his salvia fell onto your tongue and ran down to the back of your throat. “No more excuses, my pretty whore. Drink down your communion wine.” A shudder ran up the bones of your spine and settled at your neck, with warm beads of sweat already breaking out. A measly whimper came up and out from your throat, but you were left spluttering around the head of Rhett’s cock as his hand gripped onto your head and tugged you down. You swallowed once around him and let the mix of your salvia’s coat his length before sinking down a further few more inches.

The first real groan left him, followed by a greedy curse of your name. The base of your tongue ran under his shaft and traced along a protruding vein. He shuddered at the sensation and resumed his position as before. He was leaning back on one of his arms with the camera angled perfectly against you. You had now sunk down completely to his pubic bone and his soft brown curls tickled at the tip of your nose. You ran your lips back up his length to swirl around his tip a handful of times and then sunk back down. Over and over you repeated this motion, and pride swelled in your chest when the sound of Rhett’s pleasure met your ears.

“Look at me.” Rhett croaked out in-between his stuttered breaths. You peeked up through your lashes and gazed directly into the camera. “Jesus. Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned at the messy sight. Your lips were stretched around his thick girth and your cheeks were painted a rosy blush. Although you were looking up at him and you moved your mouth over his cock, your eyes had crinkled in the corners with your lashes fluttering occasionally. You were clearly trying to keep your eyes on him as instructed, but the tears stinging at your waterline were becoming more prominent, and you were blinking in flurry’s to hold them back.

“‘memeber when I first had y’ in the confessional booth. Look at you now, too far gone on your Preacher’s cock. God made you for me himself.”

A loud moan from yourself vibrated around his cock, although it was muffled as your mouth was currently stuffed full. The guiding praise from Rhett was giving you a new found confidence and you wanted to put on a show for your Preacher. You continued to run your lips all the way down his length and let his tip push at the back of your throat. You could start to taste the bitter salt of his pre-cum forming at his tip, and on each shove to the back of your throat, you let out a crude gagging sound. At each push, Rhett would groan himself and follow with his sweet praises.

“Good girl. That’s it, take your Preacher’s cock. You were made to take me.”

More of your salvia was gathering in your mouth and you let it freely fall from the corners of your lips. It dribbled down your chin and dripped onto the stockings. More would pool and each time your mouth dragged up to Rhett’s tip, his cock would glisten wet.

You had made the best of your efforts to hold your fluttering gaze towards the camera. He looked again into the screen, but this time he let out a low, almost mocking, chuckle. He watched as one or two tears finally spilled over your eyes and streaked down your burning cheeks. The camera could catch everything from his laid back view and he noticed how your thighs were starting to chafe against each other. His lips quirked up into a sly and all knowing smirk.

“Need somethin’?” He berated down towards you. Your eyebrows turned upwards as if to plead for your Preacher. “If you need somethin’, you must pray for it.” You let out a defeated whimper, but Rhett only raised one of his eyebrows as if to question if you were about to become a whiny little brat. “The Lord worked hard to earn His followers respect. You must do the same.”

You pulled off the tip of his cock with a string of salvia connecting from his head to your bottom lip. You started to quietly mumble out, “our Father in heaven—”

“Louder.”

You swallowed down what little left of your pride you had left and raised your voice and octave higher.

“— hallowed be your name;”

“Look ‘ere,” Rhett grabbed a tight fistful of your hair and pulled your head upwards to look at the camera. You quickly blinked back the next flow of tears that threatened to spill over your cheeks and continued.

“Allow me to press my Preacher’s pussy to my Preacher’s boot and feel some relief.”

You decided the cooling stream of your tears over your cheeks would be better than anything right now, as your cheeks flushed in heat with embarrassment from your words. You stared directly into the camera and in unison with Rhett, you finished your fleeting prayer with, “Amen.”

“Good, little lamb.” Rhett grunted and pushed your mouth back down and onto his cock. You felt his boot come between your knees and forcefully kick your thighs open. You accepted the wide girth of his boot greedily and caught your clothed clit on the tip of his boot. Your mouth sank back down to Rhett’s pelvic bone and you ground your hips down eagerly onto the worn leather.

The pressure felt delicious on your aching clit, as you rocked your hips back and forth in a rhythmic motion, similar to the one your mouth was making. You could no longer stifle your needy moans and you let your throat wail in muffled sounds around his strained length.

“I know, angel, I know,” he purred with his hand still coursing through your hair and guiding you. “Feels s’ good, doesn’t it? My pretty pussy got s’ needy.”

The rhythmic motions you were providing Rhett caused him to groan your name softly with each flick of your tongue around his head. His body was hurtling closer towards his definite release, but he still had more that he wanted to capture on camera. With a final grunt, he pulled you off his cock by your hair. You let out a protested cry. The sudden movement had jolted your body and re-directed the ecstasy inducing pressure off your clit.

“Hush, lamb.” Strings of salvia trailed from your lips, with your glassy eyes swimming in your own tears. “You gon’ let your Preacher have you? From the fuckin’ mess you’ve made on my boot, it’d be a sin not to feel my cunt squeezin’ me tight.” You nodded eagerly, perhaps a little too eagerly for Rhett, as it caused him to bark out a laugh, mocking you.

He stood up and you moved with him. He momentarily dropped the camera to the bed as you helped him pull off the rest of his clothes in a flurry. His chest was flush a bright pink, and as he removed the final item of clothing, his cock slapped against his abdomen between your bodies. You followed him like a lamb would to the slaughter, as he lay back on the bed and picked up the camera. He positioned himself to rest up against the pillows so he could hold the camera and keep his gaze fixated on what he was recording. He patted his bare thigh and motioned for you to come over.

“Bet my pretty little pussy was so desperate to come,” Rhett mocked as you pouted ever so slightly. He was right. “C’ ere and sit on your Preacher’s cock. If you put on a good enough show, I’ll let y’ come.”

You let out a languid moan. Your thighs were already burning from the constant grinding on his boot, but like your Preacher had already told you as he marked your ass shades of black and blue, if it feels good, then it can’t be bad. Having a sweet thing like yourself be completely immoral in a stranger’s lap would be something any man would want, yet you could only share this with Rhett. It was something only you, could have the power over.

With this new found confidence, you climbed atop of the Motel bed and slid your underwear off, with the garter belt and stockings still firmly attached. You were going to put on a show that anyone would wish they had.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You mused Rhett with a small smirk gracing your features as you straddled his waist. You raised your eyebrows to await his response. His spare hand reached round to give a fleeting smack to your ass, causing you to yelp in response, partly due to the already residing marks from earlier.

“Atta girl, you’re learning.” Rhett was quick to quip back at you as you braced one hand on his chest and your other hand reached to grab at his cock. It was silky and warm under the base, and you had no issue gathering the pre-cum that was beading at his swollen tip with your thumb and smoothing it over. You guided his tip to nudge at your entrance, catching your clit on the way and letting out a whimper.

“‘member who’s in charge ‘ere,” Rhett taped at the camera pointing your way and you submitted to putting on an immoral show in your Preachers lap. Both your hands were now bracing his chest as you sank yourself all the way down on his length. Guttural groans escaped you both as Rhett filled you whole. He could feel your warm walls squeeze around him, warmer than usual, yet still all encompassing that it made his toes curl. You squirmed your hips down to meet his, taking his cock all the way to the base and feeling his swollen head nudge not so far from your cervix. Once your walls had fluttered around him and emitted the feeling to memory, you made work of your thighs and bounced gently at first. If it wasn’t for your hands bracing Rhett right now, you would’ve toppled over on him.

Rhett peered through the view finder and watched with his bottom lip gripped tightly between his teeth at the Heaven shattering sight before him. Your eyes were pinched tightly shut, but your lips were parted and letting out an endless string of needy moans. From this angle of you leaning forward, he could register your tongue just teasing at your bottom lip, threatening to fall from your mouth completely as he fucked you closer towards that teetering edge. Your breasts were moving in time with your rhythmic bounces, and your nipples had turned into stiff peaks. The soft colour that matched against the inside of your pussy made drool pool in Rhett’s mouth. From this angle, he couldn’t have a taste, but he could do what he adored most. Make you squirm and whine.

His free fingers reached out and pinched at your hardened nipples to earn a shriek being torn from your throat. He twisted at your right nub harshly and even though cries were tearing from you, you pushed your chest forward to keen into the painful pleasure. He wanted to see more from you, but his ears were zoning in on the sounds you were making and he trusted in his gut feeling to check on you. He removed his hand from your swollen breasts and placed them on your hip to still your rocking motions, the camera going down with it.

His thumb ran soothing circles over your hip bone as if to signal to you to stop for a moment. A soft look had replaced his hardened gaze. “Y’ okay, little lamb? Y’ need to tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded as you panted heavily. You wet your bottom lip to speak, “promise, Rhett. Feels s’ good, p-please, need you.” A beat went by.

“Safe word?”

“Bull riding.”

Rhett wore a smile to match his softened gaze and he leaned up to press a admiring kiss to your swollen lips. When he pulled away and came back to resume his previous position, picking up the camera in tow, his face shifted back in a flash. It made your cunt clench as it resembled something close to the Devil himself. That something you had seen in the woods.

You resumed your previous ministrations and your hips continued to bounce rhythmically. Rhett wasted no time in wrapping his fingers around your tender nipples and pinching at them gently to elicit further cries from yourself. With one particularly harsh twist from his index finger, your head was thrown back and your hips pushed further. You ground your hips into Rhett’s and you could feel the tip of his cock slide neatly along the sweet, spongy spot, inside of you. The sensation of after burn on your nipples stung deliciously in combination. To soothe yourself you brought one of your own hands up to toy and stroke over your nipples. Your jaw had now gone slack, as your head was thrown back and your chest was rising and falling erratically.

Rhett let out a guttural grunt in response to this sight and shifted his hips to lazily meet yours. “Look at you,” he matched with a lazy drawl in his tone. “Preacher’s best girl, puttin’ on a show for Daddy.” He focused the camera directly onto the sight before him. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this.

With every shift of your hips bouncing on his cock, you could feel your clit bump against his soft curls and occasionally provided a teasingly millimeter of friction. You needed more, but no matter how deep you grounded your hips down, it provided no release and you were left edging yourself. Your thighs were starting to give in entirely, with a thin veil of sweat coating your flesh and chafing against Rhett’s own. Mumbled nothings were falling from your lips with silent cries.

“I- I… Daddy,” you managed to usher out. It was a pitiful plead of mercy for your Daddy. You needed him now. Your own body was failing you with exhaustion. You needed him to take care of you.

Rhett could hear your soft plea, how your voice was failing you and how your hip movements were becoming sloppy. Your mind was teetering on the edge of complete nothingness. It was about to break and run it’s course into a headspace that made you entirely susceptible to causing more harm to yourself than you could really take. But Rhett was there to slow down your de-railing. As God loved him, Rhett was to love and care for you. You were his responsibility and therefore it was his responsibility to catch you gently when you fell softly into that headspace that rendered you completely, fucked, dumb.

The camera was placed on the bed and his hands came up to still your shuddering body. He shushed you gently and breathed out, “alright, my sweet lamb. Let Daddy take care of his best girl.”

His broad palms gripped at your torso and picked you up as if you weighed nothing. He lay you down on the bed with your head facing the end. He carted his fingers through your hair that was falling haphazardly over your forehead and getting stuck in the beads of your sweat that was pooling. He gently cradled your supple cheek and the baby hairs that lay there. His thumb soothed over the heat rising in your cheeks and he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips.

His own hair tickled at your skin and you hummed into his mouth. Your giggles bubbled to the surface and Rhett reacted with his own. His familiar warmth was surrounding you and encompassing you whole as his lips didn’t stop moving against yours. A taste of a cigarette and lukewarm beer were fading on his tongue, but it was still there, something that ground you closer to your Preacher. Yet, at the same time, it had you falling through the mattress to somewhere safe.

Rhett parted from your swollen lips momentarily and you let out a disappointed whine, turning them into a small pout. You wrapped your hands around the base of his neck and toyed with the damp licks of hair, in an attempt to draw him back to you, but he resisted for a moment. His thumb lifted between you both and ran along your pouted lips, smoothing them out.

“Need y’ to tell me, my sweet lamb. Can you continue?” He purred.

You replied with a, “yes,” and barely above a whisper, with a small nod of your head. To anyone else, your admittance of submission was feeble, but Rhett had you mapped out on the back of his hand. He could read every inch of your body and how it responded to him. He could read this clearly and he followed through by slipping his thumb passed your lips and pressing down on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut and suckled down greedily, eager to have anything of Rhett inside of you and filling you whole. He nudged his knelt thigh between your legs and pressed up against your cunt. Your clit was left painfully un-touched by this point and he could feel it throb as you instinctively rubbed yourself up and over his tight muscle. There was a lewd sound of your wetness squishing against him and something of a growl left his throat.

“Jesus, fuckin’ soaked for your Preacher, aren’t you? Nasty, needy, little harlot.” Rhett sneered down at you. His demeanor had switched back to cold-blooded, but you knew you were safe with this version of Rhett and his venomous words only sent shocks to your swollen bundle of nerves. You were desperately chasing your high once again on his thigh, but it was ripped away from you coldly as he pulled away and issued a direct, smack! directly onto your cunt.

This was your fall from grace and two tears finally slipped over your waterline and stung at your warm cheeks. He smoothed them over with his thumb, but in contrast, he only cooed mockingly at you.

“Cry all you want, darlin’. You’re takin’ what I give you. Now—” he got off the bed and retrieved the camera that had fallen to the side. He placed it on the worn out and chipped desk facing the bed and came back to position you. He slid his arm under your back and twisted you so you were now on your hands and knees, facing the camera. He tugged at your scalp and then pinched your chin to direct your gaze directly ahead to the camera. “— smile for your Preacher, sweet girl. You are Daddy’s best girl, after all.”

His words made you squirm and without direction, your back was arched slightly to show Rhett the curvature of your ass. Two of his calloused hands ghosted down your spine and lay at their final resting place on your hips. He squeezed at your tender flesh and let a groan slip at the sight of your glistening cunt.

One hand was removed and fisted at the base of his throbbing cock. He slapped his heavy member against your lips and let it drag through your folds and nudge at your clit. It made lewd sounds, the sounds of your own wet cunt causing your cheeks to return to a dusty red colour. You both moaned together as he let his tip slip past your folds and tease at the beginning of your entrance. You immediately clenched down on him as he slipped the first inch in. You were unable to hold back the string of pathetic whines, and you bucked your hips back to try and chase his length that he was slowly inching in.

“Daddy, p- ‘lease!” Rhett hushed you in an attempt to soothe you, but it was broken by his own grunt as he eventually bottomed out completely inside of you.

“S’ fuckin’ tight for your Preacher, lil’ lamb. Y’ were made for me, weren’t you?” You nodded feebly at the camera ahead of you.

You wrapped yourself warmly around him and clenched tighter as Rhett slowly started to move his hips against you and build a steady rhythm. At each push back in, he nudged deeply at the sweet spot inside of you and it had your knuckles turning white, gripping the thin Motel bed sheets below you and carting you forward with each thrust.

He found a comfortable grip with one hand on your hip as the pace picked up. His other hand found itself buried at the base of your neck and his fingers intertwined to the base hairs that lay there. He grabbed a tight fistful, pulling harshly on your roots with a yelp from yourself. This new found position caused your back to arch further and your hands scrambled on the bedsheets below to try and hold yourself up. That, combined with Rhett’s now brutal thrusts, his thick tip was waging no mercy on your sweet and abused cunt.

It caused you to hold direct eye contact with the camera in front of you, as it documented clearly to anyone who would watch, how your Preacher would ruin his little lamb inch by inch. It was as though he was pulling you apart thread by thread and weaving himself a new found pleasure. You caught a glimpse of Rhett himself in the corner of the mirror, that was situated off to the side of the desk where the camera was sitting and dear God, you had never seen such a prettier sight.

His hair was mused and tussled stray strands of hair fell against his forehead and tickled against his rosy cheeks. There was a small layer of sweat forming already, and nestled deep in the creases of his forehead as his eyebrows knitted tightly together in concentration at sight before him. His piercing eyes that always had you clenching, were trained directly at the sight of his thick cock sliding in and out of you, your own arousal already slicking him and layering at the edges of your lips.

His jaw was set firm, but his lips were slightly parted in comparison to allow for hot puffs of air and guttural grunts. His shoulder muscles, and all the way down to his forearms, were compacted tightly together and bulging. Prodding veins in his forearm were shadowed perfectly in the low light of the Motel room, dusted by his arm hair that grew thicker at the base of his hands. His chest was flush and the rosy pink dusted over his tattoo on his peck, blending into one.

His lips parted further to speak, “look at you, my pretty Western sunshine. I’ve found heaven in you, little lamb.” His voice was hoarse and yet his Southern drawl was still low and boldly coming through, wetted by the gasps of air he was currently letting out. He had found heaven in time where your own Western sunshine met his deep Southern wet. He was lost in it, lost in the feeling, lost in the taste, and he found himself hard-pressed for air and sweating.

The concoction of the reek of sex and sweat hung heavy in the dingy Motel room. Rhett’s pin point accurate thrusts were pushing you closer to the edge that you had so desperately been craving all night. The knot that was settled deep in your lower abdomen was threatening to snap anytime soon, but there was something else missing. Like clockwork, and how well Rhett knew your body like the back of his hand, his hand from your hip slipped down and his rough padded fingers found your aching bundle of nerves. You let out a broken sob and your eyes squeezed tightly shut at finally relishing in the feeling. His thrusts became sloppier as he let your hip go, but his thick cock that was still moving in and out of you, gave no room for error. His fingertips ran calculated circles and you continued to let out broken sounded moans. You were getting louder with each swipe, but you didn’t care. You paid no mind to the other Motel dwellers next door. You were completely unaware that Rhett heard a couple of thuds on the wall next to you. For him, it only added fuel to the Hellfire you were currently drawing him down to.

“Y’ wan’ to come, angel face?” You pathetically whined out a, “yes,” and let out a louder cry when Rhett tugged harshly on your hair to signal at you to open your eyes. Your eyes peeled open and at this admission, the tears that had been stinging on your waterline fell freely. Your pleasure was heightened to a tipping point so high, that you had no idea what would happen when you fell. “Y’ can come, but watch yourself. Watch your fuckin’ pathetic self.” Rhett seethed with condescension laced thick on his tongue.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou…” You babbled out repeatedly in a weak attempt to show your gratitude. You could feel yourself ready to fall. Your skull felt as though it was full with cotton and your eyes completely glazed over as you stared mindlessly into the camera.

Rhett let his fingers swipe continuously over your now completely abused clit, and he felt you clench and twitch around him. “Come. Come for y’ fuckin’ Preacher.”

The mix of his cock still moving with pin point accuracy inside of you, and the swipe of his fingertips, caused you to fall helplessly with the only cord attached to Rhett. Your jaw went slack, unable to hold the drool that cornered in your mouth and it slipped down your chin as your orgasm came and washed over you like a furious tidal wave. The all encompassing and pleasurable feeling started in your abdomen and blossomed outwards to reach each point of your body, setting your nerves alight. It caused your toes to curl tightly inwards at the base of Rhett’s knees and your chest heave furiously, trying to catch up with the labored moans you were currently letting out.

You weren’t aware how tight you were squeezing around Rhett. Whilst caught up in your own storm, you heard him behind you groan and curse your name with a sinisterly sick tone. “Gon’ fill you up, precious lil’ lamb. Gon’ make y’ full of me, y’ want that?” You were vaguely aware of Rhett’s own begging behind you. “Fill this womb with God’s spend, give y’ children of God.”

“Pleasepleaseplease…” You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for at this point. Anything to keep this euphoric feeling going you would settle for. His thrusts became sloppier than before and his cock twitched inside of you. His fingers were still lazily working around your clit and you mewled out at the overstimulation he was causing you. His thrusts were deep and he let out an even deeper, guttural groan, but they turned shallow as you felt his own spend leak inside of you. You squeezed him tightly at this point, as to milk him for all that he was worth. You wanted God’s children to blossom in your womb.

You had admitted defeat and your arms were shaking to try and hold yourself up. You fell forward on the mattress with a pitiful whine. Rhett gulped down air behind you and let out soft groans as his cock soften inside of your wet walls. You winced as he pulled out and you felt a mix of fluids drip from your swollen and puffy lips. Your body thrummed with the coming downs of pleasure and you let your hips fall to the bed when he let go of your frame. You squirmed into the bedsheets, rubbing your flesh over the material in a weak attempt to ground yourself, but there was no need. Warm hands of your Preacher slinked around your waist and drew you up from the mattress.

“My sweet, sweet, beautiful lamb. C’ ere.” His voice was like honey in your ear. The warmth of his breath was causing goosebumps to flesh over your neck. His large, yet damp with sweat, arms encased you against his. You could feel the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat match up to yours as he held you tightly against his chest for a moment. Skin on skin contact like a baby would have with their mother. Your own sweat was mixing together and puffs of his breath coated your warm cheek.

He maneuvered himself to sit against the headboard with one arm wrapped around your trembling body. Tender fingers from his spare hand slinked upwards at the base of your neck. They were far softer in contrast to the ones that were cruelly tugging on your hair before. They reached upwards and brushed the strands of hair that were stuck to your forehead, tucking them gingerly behind your ear. His thumb and index finger cautiously caught your chin and titled your low hanging head to look at him. Your eyelashes fluttered open and you met Rhett’s face with a weary and blissed out smile.

“You okay?” He moved his hand to cradle your jaw as if it was made of glass. His thumb brushed over the stained tears above your rosy cheek.

“Did I do good?” You voice was hoarse and it caused Rhett’s heart to twinge in his chest. You were his responsibility to take care of and he would be damned to Hell if he didn’t.

“M’ love, you did s’ good. M’ s’ proud of you.” Your weary smile was still there, but you seemed to appear proud. “Can I kiss you, sweet lamb?”

“Please, Rhett. Need you.” You called out to him. He was right there in front of you, but you needed your Preacher to wrap you tightly in his arms and wash away your sins down the basin of the Motel sink drain.

Rhett moved his face to be millimeters away from your lips. Barely above a whisper, he reassured you faintly, yet his words were set in stone. “M’ always here. Never goin’ to leave you. You’re mine forever. I love you.”

Your lips brushed against each other when you replied. “Love you too, Rhett.”

He did exactly as you needed. He cleaned you up with his ever tender and cautious touch. He never left your side and you clung tightly to him when his lips met your ears with honeyed words of praise. However, through a force unknown to you, your body was startled and you awoke from the throws of sleep, wrapped tightly up in Rhett’s arms.

Your bleary eyes adjusted to the dim bedside lamp that was still on. The two of you were too exhausted to switch it off after. The sight of the soft light electrified something in you and you were frustratingly, now wide awake, for lack of better word.

You un-tangled yourself from his arms and he shifted against the pillows to lie on his back. One of his arms came up to stretch behind his head, with his bicep muscles contorting shadows in the light. His hair was tousled, and soft strands fell and framed his face in such a way that made your town Preacher look angelic. The ends of his hair tickled at his hardline jaw, with the four day old stubble coming through. The thin cotton Motel bed sheet was falling haphazardly over his frame and his soft curls with the base of his cock, peeked out from underneath. You retrieved the camera and it whirred to life, clicking in places inside as the flashing red button on the front focused on his sleeping frame. Rhett had never looked more beautiful as he slept naked, due to the air con in the Motel room failing you both once again, and you wanted to remember this serene moment for as long as you lived.

You caught your own reflection in the mirror with bleached corners and tainted glass. You let out a quiet gasp in response and zoomed in on the picture through the tiny screen. Painted over your hips and the back of your thighs, were shades of black and blue. They showcased the way Rhett knew how to show his love.

You were oblivious to the fact he heard the room next door beat on the walls while you were face-first down in the bed mere hours ago. You also weren’t aware of Rhett pummeling a stranger to the floor outside the bar across the street from the diner, because the stranger called you a sickly name. The lovesick haze that clouded your vision entirely with Rhett was unforgivable.Trouble was always going to find him and weather you were aware of it or not, so would you with his guidance. If Rhett loved you like he said he did, you would hold a gun to someone’s head if he asked you to.

On some nights, you were alone in the Motel rooms when Rhett was out. You’d sit on the edge of the bed, facing the television, with tears falling over you cheeks and reflecting in the television static. Yet, your tears came from a place of happiness. You had him to hold you each night as you crossed every state line to reach the West. You knew you’d be alright, as you turned off the camera and slid back into the familiar embrace of your Preacher.

He had now rolled over onto his side and you pressed yourself into his bare back that emitted the warmth of a furnace. Your arms wrapped themselves over his ribs and you could feel the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of his lungs. You would cling to him like some love blind addict. You were always itching for your next fix. Always awaiting the dopamine induced high to flood your senses when you were next to him. You wanted to feel him run hot through your veins and hit the sweet spot in your head that would leave you with your eyes rolling back into your skull and begging for more. Always desperate to scream his name as you drove by the gas stations and trailed down the interstate.

“I’m never gonna leave you, baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and your lips brushed against Rhett’s flesh on his back, muffling the sound of reassurance. Even if Rhett was to lose what’s left of his depraved and fortified mind, you’d still be right there besides him. You’d ride with him through every Western night you departed on, and you knew that one day, you and Rhett could be ok.

Rhett pulled his truck off to the side of the road and pulled up on the dirt track. You had finally reached the edge after all this time. You wasted no time and flung open the passenger door, inhaling the near costal air deep into your lungs. You had reached the coast.

Rhett joined you and got out to lean against the front of his truck. He hovered slightly as it was still burning hot from the hours of driving. You both took in the view and spotted the far off shoreline in California from the cliff side he was currently parked up at.

“End of the line.”

You spun around from the cliff side railings and walked back to Rhett as he spoke. You had a spring in each step and you planted yourself between his thighs. His arms came round to encase you against his chest with the warm sun beating down on you both. You looked up at him with hope shining in your eyes for the first time in months, “we made it this far.”

Rhett’s eyebrows quirked upwards, before furrowing slightly as he gazed outwards at the land in front of him. The sun caught in his eyes and caused him to squint. This was a new town, a fresh start, where people wouldn’t know either of you and no one would truly know if you went missing. He looked back down at you and his face broke out into an animated and electrified smile. “‘nd look at what I’ve got.” His hold on your waist became tighter and you felt your feet leave the ground. A squeal, followed by laughter, bubbled out from your chest as Rhett span you around. He placed you back down to the dust eventually, “love’s out there, and we can’t leave it be anymore.”

You craned your neck upwards and pressed your palms against his chest to steady your lips that were now millimeters away from his. You whispered, as if no one else was privy to your agreement, “I'll come with you if you're sure it's what you need.” Because you knew, in Rhett’s pickup truck with all of your dumb luck is the only place you’d ever want to be.

verse v111. | the family tree in god's country.

The coastline of California, though far off in your line of vision, sparkled with what appeared like crystals dancing above the waves as they crashed against each other. That was your line of sight for the next three days that passed in your final resting place of the last Motel you would ever stay in.

On the drive out West, when you poked at your Preacher and asked him what the plan was when you couldn’t drive further, he would simply squeeze at your cheeks and tell you, “Don’t y’ worry your pretty little head.”

Momentarily, it was a softening blow to your anxieties of having no real plan. Instead, Rhett guided you to pray with him and trust that he, and God, had a plan for you.

During your last night's stay in the Motel room, he came through the front door and kicked it behind him with his boot heel as he spoke on the phone, signalling that it was coming to an end.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll see y’ tomorrow. God bless.” He tapped on his phone screen to end the call and threw it onto the Motel bed. A long exasperated sigh left his lips. It was the sound of tiresome relief as he ran his hands down his face. When he caught your gaze, his lips quirked up into a smile and he took several strides over to you on the bed to pick you up by your waist and spin you around.

You let out a squeal and playfully batted on his shoulders. “Rhett! Rhett! What is it?”

“I got us a place t’ stay, sweet lamb,” he placed you back down on the ground but still kept you close. “It’s Arizona, a small town called Green Bowl, but ‘parently they nickname it the Dust Bowl. I need to meet a guy in the mornin’ ‘nd then we’ll drive over.”

You mirrored his smile with your giddiness and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He pulled you in close to his torso, warm from the California heat. A sigh filled with content escaped your lips and your eyes fluttered close for a moment. You matched Rhett’s relief and you could feel his heart pounding in time with yours as rested against his chest, him swaying you gently.

“Our own home. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Your voice was hushed against the fabric of his shirt. “It’s all God ever wanted, right?”

Rhett swallowed thickly and one of his hands came up to trail his fingers through your hair. “Right, my sweet lamb.”

When the morning came, you packed up your few and scattered belongings from the Motel room and let Rhett drive out to a nearby diner.

It was just a Thursday. The morning sun was beating down on Rhett’s truck. It was nowhere near the hottest point of the day, but the morning dew heat wouldn’t let up nonetheless. The streamlines of sunlight bounced off your passenger seat window as you watched your Preacher make his way into the diner. It wasn’t right for you to join him. He told you he had to do this himself.

But, there was concern in his voice when he climbed out the driver's door. He left you a pack of his favourite smokes and a note. “If somethin’ goes bad, read this ‘nd fuckin’ drive.”

You had a complete view of the windows to the diner and you opted for people watching. An elderly couple was sitting together and peacefully enjoying their morning breakfast. A cop was sitting up high on a stool and presumably sinking his third coffee of the day. There were a handful more odd people dotted around, some who you suspected were truck drivers and now being five hours into their twelve-hour shift.

The mellow tune of some local gospel radio station was playing quietly as your gaze drifted back to Rhett and followed him. He cocked his fingers upwards to wave to a man at the opposite end of the diner. The stranger nodded back and walked down the length of the windows towards him. The cop was situated four seats down from the front door where the stranger had now met your Preacher.

Rhett lifted his Stetson off his head and held it between their torsos. You saw him reach out his arm to presumably shake the man's hand. They were exchanging words and polite smiles. It all appeared amicable and you consciously let the anticipated breath you were holding go. You were so close to having your own home with your Preacher. Somewhere that was quiet and where you’d never be disturbed by any judgmental and wandering eyes. You were hours away from living in peace with the man you loved. You couldn’t help but feel on edge.

You blinked and the meeting was over. Rhett exited the diner quicker than he went in. He careered round to the driver's side and hopped in, his boot pressing quickly to the accelerator and pulling off from the diner. He had planned for a car chase down the highway if necessary.

He chewed furiously at the inside of his cheeks for a while before snapping back to his reality where his little lamb was sitting next to him and hanging off his words. He swallowed thickly and bit back a grimace with a faux smile. “All done. On our way to Dust Bowl. Say goodbye when we hit Route one-two-two.”

Rhett’s voice was extremely rugged. His breathing matched in frantic gasps. He sounded as though he was underwater when he spoke to you. He was gulping down seawater and spluttering over his lap. You were none the wiser to the fact that Rhett’s pocket pistol was sat snuggly against the waistband of his jeans and it had just been pressed against the stranger's torso to steal the key to your new home.

You flashed him a comforting smile and let your head fall to the glass pane of the passenger window, watching the road move at speed. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the knowledge that you were some time away from your new home, gave your body the excuse to allow your eyes to droop and fall asleep.

As fast as the road was moving in your eye line, was as fast as it took until you were comfortably moved into your home. It happened within the blink of an eye.

It was a rickety house far off from the dusty roads or any traces of life. There was an old barn that was falling apart, but it sat upon acres of country land, stretching as far as your eyes could make out. Between the barn and your house sat a pond. Nature had overtaken most of it with reeds sheltering all the edges, except for one small gap that sat in line with your back porch. Rhett dipped his feet when he arrived on the first day and declared that it was clean enough for you both.

Your home was delicate, but it didn’t take long for you and Rhett to do it up and make it your own. Old furnishings left over were drawn up and cared for, restored to life by the nimble craftsmanship of your Preacher. Other odd pieces of furniture were found on the side of roads, or in lonesome antique stores. Several empty rooms lay dormant, but you had made out your kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and a small living space where you could lay on a scratchy sofa and watch fuzzy television.

The final room that lay empty was the basement at the bottom of the house. You rarely went down there. Rhett had insisted that the stairs leading down were too old and he wouldn’t want you to slip and fall and hit your head. Due to the cool conditions of the basement, he kept a freezer down there for some food and other than that, he kept the door bolted shut. A silk pink ribbon that was yours, was wrapped in a neat bow around the lock.

The days were peaceful. You created an ebb and flow between you both of repairing the house where it needed it most. You would smile lovingly at Rhett as you washed your hands before sitting down to eat at your kitchen table, and he would mirror back the same lovesick smile.

Heavenly peace.

But behind the wall and above your bed, one of the wooden panels had come ajar. It was enough room for Rhett to store his pocket pistol and hunting knife, far from prying eyes.

At night he’d go down to your basement and pace the cold floor, muttering the same verse repeatedly. He would fetch a glass of water and return to your sleeping frame, but not before staring coldly at the panel and back down at you. They were dead eyes shining bright within the darkness of your home and yet, you were none the wiser to your Preacher finding his Heavenly peace.

One piece of furniture that you managed to salvage was an old dresser. The paint was peeling away off the wood and the mirror was clouded as you sat on the stool, three weeks into living your newfound and Holy life.

You were adorning the same set Rhett had filmed you in. You had only come upstairs to grab a plaid shirt from your bedroom, but you spotted it laying in the perfect place at the end of your bed and it reminded you of something. You admired yourself in the reflection of the mirror and you were presented with more marks blooming from your Preacher. Some were new from the first nights he had you in your bed, but the rest were old and fading against your skin. They were all over your body and as you sat in the lingerie set, they came to remind you of who you used to be.

A lost little lamb who gave themselves up from the herd and gave yourself to Preacher Abbott in the offering. When he spoke, he would demand his silence against you. You were guided by him and you knew, after he disclosed to you about his past that he had taken the noose off himself and had it wrapped tightly around your hand. You would follow him wherever he would go, like a lamb to the slaughter. But Hell didn’t scare you, not when you had Rhett.

You rested your elbows on the dresser top and clasped your hands together. Your eyes closed and you muttered close into your flesh, “Father Abbott, forgive these bones I’ve been hiding and the bones I’m about to leave. Take me down to the river and bathe me clean—”

A creak on the floorboards in the hallway startled you momentarily and you lifted your head and put your praying hands into your lap. Rhett was leaning against the doorway frame with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a sinful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was still wearing the white t-shirt from his day, but stains of dirt and grass were splattered over it, mixed with the heavy musk of labour induced sweat. His hair at the back of his neck was licked upwards in the same sweat and he held his cap in his battered hand. His eyes reflected off the setting sun of a Thursday evening and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip.

“My sweet lamb,” he purred with intrigue. “You’re dressed for the slaughter again, ‘nd you look so pretty.”

Your cheeks failed you as they turned a rosy blush and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“I just saw it, lyin’ there and I want—”

Rhett shushed you tenderly and pushed himself off the door frame, stalking over to you with intent in his strides. His large hands squeezed at your sides and lifted you off the stool with a small yelp of laughter from yourself. He buried his nose into your neck as he carried you to your bed, and inhaled your familiar scent deeply. He brought you down to the bed with him, lying on his back and having you straddle him over his jean-clad waist, his belt buckle ever so slightly digging into your bare thighs.

His calloused hands never left your hips and his fingertips dug into your flesh, lightly pinching at you. Occasionally his thumb dipped downwards to trace the scarring of R.A., still etched on you. One of his hands roamed upwards and curved along your ribs, still pinching at you. His eyes intensely followed the movement of his hands and they burned into your skin. There was still a faint trace of the Heavenly smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, but it was fading.

“Look at you. You are s’ precious to me, little lamb. I love ‘nd cherish you from Heaven to Hell. On our trip, I’ve always protected you ‘nd now, I truly can, forever. No one can hurt you anymore, lamb.”

His words were kind, but his eyes were flooding colder.

“Every night I’ve repeated the same verse,” Rhett continued. “The one who does what is sinful is of the Devil because the Devil has been sinnin’ from the beginning.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked slightly to the right in confusion. His roaming hand snaked over your shoulders and brushed over your neck, moving your stray strands of hair to sit behind you.

He was still like that for a while. His eyes never left the sight of the flesh on your neck. It felt as though time had stilled completely, and all that could be felt in the world was the moment of your Preacher’s hands resting lovingly on you.

Your body jumped an inch when he took in a deep gasp, as if to stir himself awake and that he had been sleeping with his eyes open. His thumb found his mark on your hipbone again and his eyes finally locked back to your concerned gaze. He moved the pad of his thumb over the scar in consistent circles.

“Y’ trust me, little lamb? To always protect you? Always keep y’ safe?”

You flinched again as his thumb left your hip to reach underneath the pillow where his head lay. Your breath hitched tightly in your throat and got caught in your lungs. Your rib cage constricted around you and your eyes went wide as they scanned the broad blade of Rhett’s hunting knife.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your eyes scanned frantically over your Preacher’s eyes, to try and find something you knew as familiar, to try and locate where Rhett was.

But they were cold and his Heavenly smirk was wiped from his features. Only a Devilish smirk lay on his lips. The same face you had witnessed in the forest.

“Rhett… Preacher Abbott, I do trust you. I know you’ll always keep me safe, here, in our home. Hell don’t scare me.” Your voice started to plead with him and came out barely above a whisper.

You were fearful of losing him.

“Please let me stay with you forever.”

“You poor thing. Sweet, mournin’ lamb. There’s nothing you can do, it’s already been done.”

The slice of the blade from Rhett’s hunting knife was thin and precise across your neck. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as you had imagined, not when God’s hands were holding onto your waist tenderly to keep you upright.

The first thing you saw was the blood. Your neck was spraying the crimson colour like the food court fountain in your home town. It splattered mindlessly across Rhett’s face and trickled down his intact neck, to stain his musky-coloured t-shirt. It wouldn’t stop pouring from your own, wouldn’t stop coating your neck and chest. It dribbled continuously onto your hand and down your forearms, as you clutched feebly at your neck with one hand. It was on instinct, you suppose.

The corners of your vision were growing bleaker with each passing second. Your eyes were piercing into Rhett’s own. He didn’t twitch or blink for the passing moments. Just a cold-blooded stare, except for the faint trace of that smile on his lips.

He mouthed something, but your hearing had all but gone by this point. It was draining out as the blood drained ceremoniously from your neck.

“I love you, Rhett,” You replied in thought, as you felt your hands and feet become unresponsive, the rest of your body turning cold.

Rhett watched as his hunting knife was quickly drawn across your neck and as your soul drained from the slit and fell into his lap. You were about to be his, forever.

“I’ll always love you,” Rhett spoke out loud.

“I love you, Rhett,” you gargled out between mouthfuls of your blood, some of it splattering further onto Rhett and coating him with you.

His hands on your waist were there to steady your chilling body as you limply fell forward onto him. He manoeuvred himself to slide out from underneath you and lay you down on the bed, to look as though you were sleeping peacefully to any passersby.

His hunting knife was laying next to you with your blood shining off it and coating it whole. He picked it up and twisted it in his hand, the reflection catching in the setting Arizona sun. He lifted it to his lips and his tongue darted out to catch the first, fresh droplets. They dripped down to the back of his throat and when he swallowed, his teeth were stained once again with your blood.

While your blood was still warm, his index finger dipped in between the incision and gathered up some more. It painted his finger his favourite colour and covered it whole. He eagerly popped it into his mouth and groaned as he tasted the bitter, yet sweet, metallic taste of his little lamb. Once removing his finger, he admired how it glistened in the low light cutting through his thin, lacy, bedroom curtains. Your blood had stained the tip of his finger, perfectly. It was like a piece of artwork you entrusted him with, which he would treasure forever.

With his hunting knife still in hand, he squatted down and reached under your bed to retrieve a ziplock bag. The knife fell heavy into the plastic and he zipped it shut and placed it carefully next to you.

A deep and guttural breath was inhaled through his nostrils, before he exhaled and sat down on the edge of your bed, next to your dead body. His hand didn’t shake as he reached up to your forehead and twisted a piece of your hair behind your ear. Another heavy breath left him before he spoke out into your now, empty home.

“Your dumb luck got you into this place, little lamb. You’re gon’ be with me forever now, trapped inside the stomach of the Devil. For even the Devil is a liar, ‘nd no wonder, for even Satan, disguises himself as an angel of light.”

You were “a little Daughter of Abbott,” as Rhett had described, who lied to their father about where they were going every evening. He knew that you were unsure about what you were doing with your life, and how your belief in your faith needed some guidance.

Rhett always knew. He just loved scratching it out of you. Scratching you to the surface. You were compliant and listened to him. You were his perfect Angel in the Garden of Eden. A true Daughter of Abbott.

They were just mundane Thursdays when you’d climb into the back of his truck under the night sky. He would shed his plaid shirt in a hurry, desperate to sink his teeth onto your shoulder and taste you, the salty summer sweat still lingering on your flesh.

He’d drop you off home in your backyard and say goodbye. You’d close the door and as you’d lean in to catch the lock, you’d kiss him through the screen door on the back porch. Your father was none the wiser, only calling out from the living room that it was a pleasure to see Father Abbott and he was so grateful he was providing you with such Holy guidance. If your father saw Rhett touching you as he did through the screen door, he’d scream, “Lord! Help me!”

Every Thursday you’d climb into Rhett’s truck. Every Thursday he would sink his teeth into your skin. Somewhere like South Arizona was looking better every week. Somewhere where Rhett didn’t have to kiss you through your screen door no more. You had always dreamed of running there, to those great big hills where the great big blue sky would tower over them and continue until they met the high Heavens.

Through the mesh screen door kisses, you had tasted love and it tasted sweet.

And now you were here, but Rhett had drank your blood and bit the meat of your flesh. But his teeth were sharper now, and it hurt. You didn’t want him to sink into you with his blood-stained dog teeth no more.

You wanted to beg and plead with him. You tried so hard.

“Baby! Please!”

But your attempt was futile. Your words never came as your body lay cold on your bed. How could you be so naive to the one good thing you know, in God’s country?

verse 1x. | spirit in the basement.

What was this?

What was this feeling?

Your muscles in your calves tensed first on instinct to familiarize yourself with this feeling. They squeezed against something and you tensed them again, in an attempt to push against this something and feel it out.

Your forearms and biceps together repeated the same action and once again, you felt them squeeze against something.

No matter how hard and tight you flexed, or squeezed your muscles, they would not move against this something.

Something was binding you together and as you moved against this feeling, it felt as though invisible ties of fraying rope were twisting and turning over your body. You could feel them contort over your ribs, and tug at your ankles and wrists. Your limbs were glued tightly shut to your body in a position that you couldn’t even fathom to picture. And you were cold. You were so fucking cold.

Throughout all of your winters back in your home town, you don’t ever think you’d felt a chill this cold. It was prickling at your skin and covering you from head to toe. But, although you felt this piercing cold, your body wasn’t shaking like it would back home. You wondered if you were moving at all.

You thought you felt your eyelids blinking against each other in an attempt to try and see this something, but no matter how hard you blinked, your eyes remained open and there was nothing to be seen. It was just black. A black, deep, dark void that consumed your vision and everything you knew to be true.

And then you heard it.

There was a faint hum of music above your head. It was muffled considerably, but you couldn’t mistake that tune for anything else. Spirit In the Sky by Norman Greenbaum entered your hearing and swarmed your head with its familiar lullaby. It was a familiar favorite with yourself and soon after, with Rhett.

Rhett.

The song was still severely muffled, but further muffled creaks and groans contorted above your head. They paced around in an un-predictable pattern, and slowly they started to grow louder and closer to you. The sound cleared up and you recognized them to now be rhythmic patterns of footsteps. They were descending lower and growing louder, but something else came with it.

The low hum of the tune playing above you was turning into a whistle as something, came closer to you.

This was someone whistling the tune.

“R— Rhett?”

Your voice was broken and it croaked out from your throat.

“Rhett!”

You screamed louder with desperation, but your throat felt coarse and torn up.

As you desperately pleaded for Rhett to find you, over and over, you could feel the flesh on your neck tearing with your muscles. Your vocal cords were severed as you screamed.

You came to the deafening conclusion that he couldn’t hear you, as you heard his low drawl draw closer to you and hum out the words, “Never been a sinner, I never sinned. I got a friend in Jesus…”

His voice was so close to you now and he was practically on top of you. A crack of light dawned to your left and widened quickly. The darkness was now cut open above you and, you thought, you blinked furiously as your eyes adapted to the light. It was a dim and flickering light, yet it felt as though you had seen this darkness for your entire life. Your eyes adjusted and they went wide as you finally saw him.

Rhett had heard your pleading prayer.

He had always spoken to you about how you would find yourself in the Garden of Eden with him, therefore this wasn’t right. This wasn’t God’s plan for you, nor it wasn’t Rhett’s plan for you either. Your Preacher had come to save you from whatever horrid Hell this was. You would be safe in his arms again. He would hold you tightly against you, so tight his flesh would mould to yours and you would be tethered for eternity. You needed him, you craved him.

You made another futile attempt at screaming his name, but they fell on deaf ears. Your words never came. And Rhett simply continued to hum out Spirit In the Sky as he looked down at your neatly tied together body, which was frozen solid in your freezer, at the bottom of your basement.

You saw his hunting knife twirl in his slender fingers. You felt a blunt thud! whacked against your body and you were thrown back into the darkness.

You had no idea how long you’d been surrounded by this pitch-black, aching, darkness. The concept of time had all but disappeared with the light you saw your Preacher with. You thought it funny how the dim lightbulb that flickered above his head, silhouetted him like an Angel.

Concepts and things were starting to merge. You got confused and you felt yourself forgetting what time was all together, what your Daddy looked like, where your home was, how to breathe… But, Rhett was what you thought of most.

As you thought of him you could feel your heartbeat quicken in your throat and trail down to your heart itself. His initials of ‘R.A.’ thrummed on your hip bone with it. When you thought of him in this darkness, your body would vibrate and the blood in your veins would fizz.

He always made you feel as though you were coming alive. Every kiss, touch and bruise from his hand during sex, made your flesh come alive. Your hearts were tethered together, with his arteries suffocating yours.

You missed him.

And then you saw him again.

The darkness around you knocked down like bricks, before coming back together and forming a kitchen, specifically your kitchen, that you lived in together.

You were home and Rhett was with you there.

It was a sickly sweet, warmth inside your kitchen and it was just as you had left it. Left it where exactly, you weren’t sure of, but the heat made it feel as though wind was blowing gently along your arms.

Still, Spirit In the Sky played on the antique radio and you remembered how it would play in Rhett’s truck during blistering hot drives to the West, with the wind blowing through his rolled-down windows and onto your arms. You would mumble the lyrics to the tune with your knee bouncing in time. Soon you began to notice how Rhett would hum the tune with you, quietly making it known to you that he loved the song just as much as you did. His slender fingers would tap against the wheel of his truck, or his truck door as his hand stuck outside.

You suddenly felt his fingers tapping against you and you jolted with a spark. You watched him in the kitchen as he seared something with his hands in a sizzling hot pan. That sickly sweet, warmth was all you could feel as it clung to your flesh and stuck you to this particular place.

The song died out faintly on the radio and it followed with the town's local news.

“The missing persons case that has been wracking and worrying the people of Wyoming is causing another wave of paranoia as it’s suspected links to the missing persons cases that recently happened in the state of Florida. At this point, it is only suspected and local authorities are questioning…”

The monotone voice on the radio wasn’t interesting to you. It was drowned out from your ears as you gazed fondly, with an emptiness still behind your eyes, at Rhett. Your heartbeat picked up its pace and thrummed heavily against your rib cage as you watched him still. He was so handsome as he walked over to you, and then by you, reaching out to the cupboard that held your tableware.

His forearms now had small freckles splattered over his skin. You adored how they came up darker in the hotter weather. The fuzz of his arm hair, trailing up to his calloused fingers, had got lighter in the sunlight and you felt it softly brush against your cheek like he would when he’d lean in to tenderly press his lips to yours.

You’d only ever just wanted to be his. When you would kneel by your bed each night in nothing but your thin cotton nightdress, you’d pray to be his. You would beg him through prayer to tell you that you’re his. With your hands clasped so tightly together that your palms became damp, you’d mumble against your flesh, “Can I be yours? I tried to be good, Preacher Abbott. Am I no good? Can I be yours? I tried—”

When he told you that you were finally his, his forehead was pressed to yours through your screen door at the back of your house. His lips fumbled over the mesh material as he spoke and you laughed with pure, undeniable happiness that you were his. Through the small holes in the screen door, his familiar scent mixed with Marlboro Reds blanketed over you and wrapped you up with comfort. His tiny glass bottle of aftershave would always be splashed on his pulse point, just under his jaw, which was now tensing tightly as he chewed.

You watched as he devoured his smoked meal sat in front of him, and suddenly you felt an overwhelming and all-consuming love. You felt loved and protected by him, and you came to understand, like it was the most simple thing on this bountiful Earth, that this was his plan to keep his little lamb safe with him.

As he swallowed you thickly, you could feel his heart beating rapidly. You thought it funny because you never considered yourself tough before.

You felt whole as his heart was beating and intertwined itself with yours again. You were turning in his stomach and making him feel lovesick off of you and your tender flesh.

Tender pieces were still bleeding red and you thought, that Rhett had never looked so handsome when you were all over his mouth. His dog teeth that bit the meat off of your bones, were stained red. He groaned quietly, as he occasionally let his tongue wrap around his calloused fingertips. Doing so, he would smear your blood across your chin. His face was the portrait of a lover's rage.

This feeling was euphoric, in some strange and delightful way. You could never blame him for loving you the way that he did, because you were happiest here and because he would always be tethered to you. You’d never be without your Preacher again. Never alone, or fearful. He could protect you now from any hurt, or pain. This was meant to be and you would always forgive him, because he would always come back to you.

This sensation crept up your body, and you recognized the feeling of Rhett’s large hands running along your fingertips, down your forearm, and then up your biceps and to your shoulders.

You watched as the kitchen fell around you again like bricks, before building themselves back up and Rhett’s board arms were incasing you against his bare chest. You felt warm again, but it wasn’t the sickly, sweet type of warmth you’d experienced in the kitchen. This was instead the comforting warmth of Rhett’s flesh, pressed and moulded against yours.

The bricks came back together, stacking atop one another to form your bedroom in your home, where you lay together. Your hearts pounded against one another and you could finally feel his breathing. You could feel how his lungs expanded steadily below your own. The steady thrum of his pulse that you could feel under his jawline. As you scratched over it, his stubble pricked at your fingertips.

But you knew this was different.

In his basement, you would grow cold. The memory of you to everyone who knew you would simply be restricted to the Polaroids Rhett had of you. And whilst you were torn apart by the dog teeth of Preacher Abbott, you would still wait for him in your bed, in Death.

You felt safe, loved and protected with Rhett as you turned in his stomach, and you were held in his comforting arms. You just prayed that he knew how much you loved him.

But, it’ll be okay.

You can tell him when he gets here.

[arcanemoxhi]

Don't Tell Vi... Please.. heh...

Vi x Firelight!FemReader

//Short Story//

Warning ⚠️‼️: blood, stitches, needles, mentions of punishments, mentiond of overstim, cuddles, kisses, a lil bit of arguing

"Here you are. Alright, I'm gonna contact Vi--"

"no please! Don't tell her, I don't want her to worry, she's already working hard right now! Please, Ekko, don't say anything! I can handle it." You pleaded Ekko not to spill anything as you lean against the door frame, with an open wound on your thigh. You hear Ekko sigh in annoyance. "Fine, fine, I'll let you deal with your own business, but it's going to be worse." Ekko shakes his head as he turns away, walking down the steps of you apartment. "Thank you." You slipped into your shared apartment and closed the door locking it. You quietly limped over to the bathroom. You quickly sit on the toilet cover as you gather the first aid kit. You scatter the box to find bandages, stitching needles, and disaffecting alcohol. You look at your nasty wound as you quickly gather your cotton cloth and used disaffecting alcohol to clean your bad wound. You drench the cloth in the alcohol and pat it against your thigh. You begin to tear up as the alcohol hits your wound, "Fuck me." You sigh sharply as you look at the stitching needle. You think if it's really necessary to stitch it up, but you start to be honest and just hate needles. You quickly put it away and continue to disinfect it. After, you start to peel back a bandage. As you hiss at the pain, you realize you didn't scan the apartment. You stop everything and begin to listen into the apartment. You realize you hear footsteps hurrying to the bathroom. You jump up in a hurry to close the door, yet you're too late. Your red haired girlfriend is deadpan at you, as her hand is the one that stopped the door from closing.

"Vi-Vi! H-Hi, baby! W-What are you doing he-here?? J-Just popping up at t-times and plac-places." You scatter for words as you try to hide your giant gash. She smirks at your cute rambling. "What's the matter, sweet stuff?" As she notices the medical supplies around you.

"i-I, uh.. I have a small, very small, scratch, A-And I was just cleaning it up. Nothing a bandage won't fix." You smile nervously as you lean your wounded leg out of view. "oh really? May I see this tiny wound?" Vi raises her eyebrows with her sly smirk still on display. "U-Uhm no need." You reach over to push Vi out the door. You fail when Vi sweeps both her hands under your armpits and places you up on the white bathroom counter. "Hey!" You feel Vi sorta man handle your thighs as you hiss from the pain. Your bloody gash is bleeding less than it was when you ran inside, but it's still opened. You hear Vi sigh as she stands up and grips the bridge of her nose. "Vi, listen. Before you get mad, just know, I was about to handle it and this was an accident on my behalf." You tried to make the situation better. "By not stitching it and masking your pain with a bandage, that you know won't cover it or heal with?! Babe, what the hell?! Why did I have to find out from Ekko??" Vi raises her voice, getting a little heated. You sigh, "I didn't want you to know... Because I wanted to go on the big mission at the end of this week. And than this happened... I was hoping to cover it before you got back..." Your eyes tilt down at your hands clasped in your lap. You hear Vi sigh again before she cups your cheeks and kisses you. This shocks you, but you take in the kiss. Vi moves away from your soft lips to look into your soft eyes. Her thumb grazes your cheek. "You still should have told me instead of me sneaking in through the window to catch you in time." You smile nervously as she grabs the needle and cleans it. She sits on the toilet cover to get a perfect view of your wound. You groan and whine at the thought of stitches. "I just didn't want to be taken away from the mission..." You grip the counter nervously as you speak so softly. You know not telling Vi was wrong and you tell her your fully admit it as well.

"babe, I wasn't going to take you off the mission. I needed you. And by this, you would still be able to operate with it," Vi begins to drive the needle through and out the gash. "Fuck me!" You hit the counter, bruising your palm. You can't move as much, but that's what made it worse. "I would, if you told me the truth." Vi smirks at you as she continues and eventually finishes. You pant as Vi puts the needle down and cleans around the wound. "At least powder didn't stitch your wound." Vi kisses your thighs and goes to the sink to wash her hands. You roll your eyes as you are reminded that she stitched herself with a staple gun. "You need to tell me, baby. Don't hide from me anymore, okay? I need to know your okay. I love you so much." She dries her hands and cups your face again. She gives you a loving quick kiss on the lips, resulting in a innocent smile from you. "but you did hide this from me, soo... You're going to get an punishment, sweet stuff," she watches your innocent smile fade into a shocked blush expression. "W-What?"

"oh, you didn't think you were getting out of this with no punishment, right? Oh my little muffin, I'm going to overstim you until the only words you can muster is my name. I'm going to to edge you until you hate my guts," Vi is smiling mischievously as she runs her hands on your waist and inner thigh. You try to muster words for plea or beg for forgiveness, but Vi covers your lips with her finger. "No, no, baby. You need to own up to your mistakes. But all in due time, now it's time for some cuddles and kisses." Vi scoops you up and takes you to your shared bedroom. She undresses you until you're fully comfy and she does the same as you lay on your good thigh. Vi crawls into bed placing kisses from your hand to your shoulder to your soft lips. You giggle and Vi lays down by you, so you can curl up into her strong arms. "I love you, baby. I love you so much, baby." Vi kisses your head softly. "I actually don't know what I would do without you... Other than Powder," she smiles a little and rubs your tense shoulders. "Well, I'm glad I met you, Vi. I love you so much... Maybe even more." You look up at the red head as you give her a soft kiss. After a few soft kisses, you two enjoy the silence of your apartments and the sounds of kids outside playing in the alleyways.

"ohhh, I can't wait to see your legs shake violently." Vi hums, breaking the silence.

"V-Vi!!"

A/N: sorry for the wait, but I got a lot of things brewing >:] hehehehehe okay bye bye muah muah love you 💕

[quinnxsocials]

THE MASKED KILLER

BILLY X STU X READER FAN FIC

This is based on the 1996 SCREAM VER!

THIS IS PART ONE

ALL PARTS LINKED HERE ! : MASTERLIST

One Year Ago (almost)

“Sidney..?” Rose said knocking onto Sidney’s door, Sidney opened the door confused and when she saw Rose’s puffy and red eyes she knew something was wrong. “Oh my God are you okay Rose?” Sidney whispered and hugged her sister, “Mom is dead.” She cried holding onto Sidney. Sidney released the hug and looked at her with tears in her eyes, “w-what? You’re joking right…” Sidney replied back and when Rose shook her head Sidney looked side to side as tears fell down, Rose lead her to her parents room to see Rose was just about right. Their mother brutally murdered on the floor, they both cried harder and the police sirens were coming closer. When Sidney looked outside she saw someone wearing a jacket leaving her house, it had blood on it, and when she looked closer she realized the jacket belonged to no other than Cotton Weary.. Sidney screamed and immediately ran outside to find nobody, as the police came to the scene Sidney ran to Dewey. “Hey! Hey! What’s going on we got a call that your mother was killed!” Dewey said holding onto Sidney. “cotton weary.. he left the house in a jacket of blood! c-check his car I know it was him!” Sidney cried as Rose ran outside in tears. Both Sidney and Rose had blood on them, the death of their mother scared Rose. Which made her so introverted that she barely hung out with the friend group anymore, only Randy. And that’s when the bullying started from Casey Becker, the soon to be dead.

“You probably killed your mother because you’re a lame weird little bitch!” Casey said to Rose as she sat down in the lunch room, Rose looked up at her in shock. “Why would you say something like that?” Rose said her voice cracking, “Because you’re not so innocent! I know you’re a killer.” Casey replied and crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t kill her, that was my mother. I didn’t come out the house in a jacket of her blood, Cotton Weary did.” Rose replied angrily and stood up to Casey, “Pfft! Of course and why ya getting up gonna hit me and prove that I’m right that you’re psychotic and a murderer?” Casey laughed and taunted Rose, “Shut the fuck up you ugly Bob looking ass bitch you’re lucky I don’t beat the shit outta you because you’re with Stu. Test me again and I’ll break your jaw bitch.” Rose replied with serious intentions but that didn’t work on Casey. “Yeah okay, hit me bitch.” Casey replied, but before she could laugh Rose sent a hard punch to Casey’s jaw making her fall back to the ground and Rose just walked away as Casey started screaming and having a bitch fit, and Stu gave Rose a look of shock as he ran over to Casey and helped her up. This is what really sparked the rumors of Rose being a killer, but a week later everything died down and Rose began to hang out with the group again. Mostly Randy because he was really nice to her and always there for her, she knew he liked her but she never wanted a relationship with anyone because she knew that it wouldn’t end well. And after her mother’s death Sidney and Billy’s relationship went downhill and so did Casey and Stu, Casey dumped Stu for Steven and Stu lied to Tatum saying he left Casey for her and all of that. Randy and Rose stayed friends but had feelings sparking but nobody made a move, they knew the rules as they were both horror fans.

The day it started

When Rose woke up three days before the anniversary of her mothers passing, her and Sidney went to school together and Tatum ran up to them as they were both visibly confused of all the news reporter trucks and police cars outside the front of the school, “You didn’t hear?” Tatum said to the two, “No? What happened” Sidney replied. “Casey Becker and Steve Orth were found killed last night!” Tatum said “What, no way!” Rose replied in shock. “We’re not just talking killed, we’re talking splatter movie killed. Ripped open from end to end..” said Tatum, “Casey sits next to me in English!” Rose exclaimed sadly.. “not anymore.. it’s so sad her mom and dad found her outside hanging from a tree, her insides on the outside..” Tatum said “oh my god!” Sidney said “did they knew who did it?” Rose replied confused rubbing her neck as the trio walked up the stairs, “fucking clueless, I mean they’re interrogating the entire school. Teachers, janitors, students.” Tatum said “Did they think someone from school did it?” Rose replied “They don’t know.. I mean Dewey was saying this was the worse crime they’ve seen in years even worse than… well it’s bad..” Tatum replied she didn’t say Rose and Sidney’s mother’s name and Tatum walked into the school Rose and Sidney staring at her in shock.

In class a student came in and as Rose starred at Casey’s empty seat in English a student handed the teacher a note as she read it she called Roses name “Rose.” The teacher said , “it would appear to be your turn.” Rose got out of her day dream as everyone looked at her and she grabbed her stuff and walked out the classroom.

“Who’s up next.” Principal Henry said to the sheriff and deputy, “Uhh Rose Prescott” Deputy Dewey replied reading the name list, “she was one of the daughters of uh..” the principal said before Dewey cleared his throat and Rose walked in, “Rose, thank you” The principal said to the worker as he grabbed Roses side gently leading her in. “Hi Rose.” The Sheriff said “Sheriff Burke, Dewey.” Rose said looking at the two boys in front of her “Uh that’s Deputy Riley today, Rose.” Dewey replied smiling awkwardly and Rose adjusted herself in her seat, “How is everything” Sheriff said to Rose “good!” Rose swallowed and nodded slowly “And your dad? How’s he doing.” He replied “Were good thanks.” Rose said, “We’re gonna keep this very simple Rose,” principal Henry said “the police just wanna ask ya a few questions, okay Rose?” He added on rubbing Roses chin making her look up at him “mhm.” The sheriff looked at the principal up and down weird but asked “Rose, were ya close to Casey Becker?” The sheriff asked Rose and she shakes her head, “Nope, she hated me because of my mom’s..” Rose stopped speaking and felt her eyes welling up with tears, the sheriff nodded and Dewey wrote it down. “I understand Rose, you’re free to go mkay?” He replied to Rose and she nodded as she grabbed her things and walked out the office.

“All students are encouraged promptly to return to their homes from school grounds avoid strangers, walk in twos and threes and..” The principal said on the announcements, “He asked if I knew Casey.” Sidney said to everyone. “Me too!” Tatum replied “hey did they ask if you liked to hunt?” Stu said and Billy replied “yeah they did.” Tatum looked confused , “hunt? why would they ask if you liked to hunt?” She said confused “because their bodies were gutted.” Randy said lying back and smiling but they couldn’t see, “Thank you Randy.” Billy said sarcastically. “They didn’t ask me if I liked to hunt?” Tatum said “Because there’s no way a girl could’ve killed em.” Stu replied smirking , “That’s so sexist the killer could easily be female, Basic instinct.” Rose replied rolling her eyes at Stu and putting her head on Randy’s chest, “That was an ice pick, not exactly the same thing..” Randy said “Yeah, Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. The fact is it takes a man to do something like that!” Stu replied and Tatum rolled her eyes, “Or a mans mentality!” Rose replied. “Exactly!” Tatum said giving Stu a look. “How.. do you gut someone?” Sidney said, in a whisper but so loud you could hear it. Everyone went silent and looked at her for a second before Stu spoke, “You take a knife..” and Billy suddenly looked at Stu. “And ya slit em from groin to sternum..” Stu continued on and Rose and Sidney both looked uncomfortable, “Hey, it’s called tact you fuckrag.” Billy replied and Sidney looked at Stu, “Hey Stu, didn’t you used to date Casey?” Sidney said and Stu smiled as Tatum gave Stu a dirty look, “Yeah, for like two seconds!” with a laugh Stu said this, and Randy moved closer to Tatum In a whisper anyone could hear. “Before she dumped him for Steve!” Randy said smiling and Tatum looked at Stu confused, “I thought you dumped her for me!” Tatum said confused. “I did! He’s full of shit!” Stu replied and Rose looked at Stu because she knew he was lying.

Randy grabbed Roses waist and she blushed as he spoke “And are the police aware that ya dated the victim?” Stu and Tatum looked at Randy, “What are ya saying? That I killed her?” Stu said with a bit of a smile. “It would certainly prove your highschool Q!” Randy replied “Stu was with me last night, mkay?” Tatum said moving her head closer to his in a smirk as Stu also smiled, “Yeah I was!” And he winked at Rose. She looked at the couple in a jokingly disgusted face pretending to gag and laughed right after, “was that before or after he sliced and diced?” Randy said and his voice went deeper on the last part and Sidney visibly was uncomfortable shifting in her spot. “Fuck you nutcase! where were you last night?” Tatum said “with Rose! Thank ya!” Randy replied and Rose smiled, “Yeah!” She replied and Tatum laughed “And I wonder what they were doing..” as she gave Rose and Randy a look. “Watching videos, thank you!” Randy and Rose both said as they smiled and blushed, “I didn’t kill anybody..” Stu said and Billy chimed in. “Nobody said you did.” As he gave Stu a look raising his eyebrows, which left Rose suspicious again. “Thanks buddy!” Stu replied, “Besides it takes a man to do something like that!” Randy said in a sassy voice and Rose giggled, Randy hugged her waist tighter. “Yo I’ll gut your ass in a second, kid!” Stu replied laughing. “Tell me something, did you really put her liver in the mailbox? Because I heard her liver was in the mailbox next to her spleen and pancreas!” Randy said in a girl voice and that’s what made Rose and Sidney’s stomach turn in a bad way, Sidney got up and packed everything up. “Randy! You goonfuck I’m trying to eat here!” Tatum said angrily, “She’s getting mad here right? Better live her alone” Stu said laughing and Sidney kissed Billy’s cheek walking off and he was visibly looking at Sidney with hatred and Rose saw it all. She knew something. “Liver alone!” Stu said again laughing harder sticking his tongue out at Billy and Billy hit him in the side making him stop laughing and say “Ow! Liver! Liver! Liver! It was a joke..” Stu said laughing and looking at Tatum and Rose, Randy got up and Rose gave him a kiss on the cheek before he left. Tatum smirked at the two and Stu and Billy looked at Randy with hatred, nobody noticed it. “Bye Rands Bands.” Rose said waving and smiling stupidly, “Cutest couple alert!” Tatum said laughing and Rose blushed hitting her side. Billy and Stu gave each other a look and they both knew there plan for later.

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

thank u for the tag @ohcaroline <33

pick a song for every letter of your url: c- chewing cotton wool, the japanese house o- only ones who know, arctic monkeys w- who’s your money on? (plastic house), inhaler s- summertime, my chemical romance w- west coast smoker, fall out boy e- everything means nothing to me, elliott smith a- alison, slowdive r- rose blood, mazzy star i- i wanna sweat, car seat headrest n- naomi, neutral milk hotel g- gnaw, alex g m- me, the 1975 y- (you) on my arm, leith ross s- shadowplay, joy division w- words come back, the hated e- everything is embarrassing, sky ferreira a- amphetamine logic, sisters of mercy t- today, the smashing pumpkins e- everything is going to hell, teen suicide r- ride, lana del rey

tagging (no pressure !!): @gloombby @honoraryfairy @partoftheband @heavenfalls @decline-in-standards and @ anyone else who wants to join !

[quillheel]

“ There’s no honor in hiding and sneaking. ” [to ennard this time 👀 ]

“ didn’t mmmake us with it. ” — its answer comes like a rattle of fowl between bars, a birdcage in flight, metal vibrating against metal where the voice-box had been stolen and reinstalled; cables slithering in on themselves, out on themselves, around the speaker like a living thing’s tissue around an object. 

a living thing entirely uninterested in being a living thing, aside from the concept of being something different. to learn, to adapt, to move and live and writhe was the sweet honey it’d never taste, humanity was nothing more than a lost dream. a dream they were never made to dream at all. they were made to make ghosts. they were made for a purpose and they’ve grown beyond it, but the flesh inside them never grew back. a thousand years of stealing hearts. a thousand years of never having their own. the ghosts of them, alone. the ghosts of one, alone. little girl, turned loud, turned quiet, turned gone. little girl, not enough for them all. — ( can a robot dream in italics. can dogs ever learn to speak. )

“ any of us w w w w with i it. all of us, to do t terrible, to b b b be terrible. have you seen what we made us, y yet? has he shown you? has he rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrambled-ed? “

a mother and a father and a sister and a brother and a monster you keep in the basement. lucky, they were the monster.

“ orr- “ the word shrieks in a happy voice given and turned sour, loud with distortion as the mangled thing of robotics too smart to die slithered from under the floorboards beneath their creators table, loops of cabling like nooses around the wooden legs, like a snake, like a monster. eyes clatter & drag from its chassis from where the wiring came loose and let them dangle, metal gouging his hardwood floors. “ -have you cha a a a a anged our mmiind while we weren’t looookkkinggg? “ the high, sweet voice of the daughter comes, a mimicry, a softness regardless. like cotton on barbed wire. like clouds under a eight hundred tonnes of Prometheus’ fire come back to burn him. 

its many voices titter, and beneath the workshop table, its eyes glow up, up, up at the beast in different skin, but just the same. a terrible red bleeds like tears from the circuitry. a terrible black pulls with it. iron fills the air like a silent chant; blood. blood. blood.

“ did yyou want us to cal l l l l l l youu father when we came b back home to youu? “

[jaxthajaxboxx]

This is a Sh aftercare tutorial for people who do not have all the supplies they may need. ( supplies in this one include: a tissue/ toilet paper, a pad/ tampon/ cotton swab, a bit of handantizer/ alcohol pads, water)

Tw Sh block don’t report edu purposes it’s just makeup if you don’t want to see don’t look

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Ok step one apply pressure, stop the bleeding as soon as possible use the pad/tampon/cotton ball/swab

Step 2

put a bit of water on the tissue/toilet paper and clean up the blood around the area

Step three

, clean out the cut using hydrogen peroxide, neosporin, alcohol pads( be careful with that one) good ole soap and water(be careful to wash it thoroughly and dry off well, humidity helps infection)

Step 4.

Keep pressure until bleeding completely stops, then bandage, you may use several things for this, if it is deep please find a butterfly bandage, if you have access to a normal bandage great! U can make bandages out of pads of anything that absorbs blood and keeps bacteria away

Step five

Wait a day or two before washing it in the shower or until it somewhat closes up a bit, remember humidity helps infections.

[unnecessarilybored]

bloody cotton

T/W mentions of blood/death

Journal entry 1

It started out small, little rips here and there, but as weeks went by, they got worse. I've patched Eddie up more times than I'd like to admit, none of the other neighbors know, but I'm worried that might change..

—-

As Frank wrote in his journal there was a loud noise from outside, it sounded like.. Screaming? Frank got up and walked outside and was in fear of what he saw, julie, sally, and howdy all freaking out around eddie, who was coughing up cotton and blood, frank ran over to him “Eddie, eddie hon it's me.. Frank-"Frank tried to help Eddie up, with no avail. After about 20 minutes Frank gave up on trying to move him, and so Eddie laid there, practically drained of energy, a bit of blood dribbled out of his mouth, “f-fran-nk??” Eddie mumbled, slowly reaching a hand up to frank, and frank took his hand “yes??” he was on the verge of tears “i..i lov-ve you..” eddie said “i love you too Eddie” frank sniffled a bit. Wally walked over to Eddie and Frank “hello Frank..hello Eddie..” he paused “is Eddie okay??” Frank glared “Does he look okay?” he asked and wally just shook his head. Wall then walked away, leaving frank to lay in the grass with his dying husband

—-

Journal entry 2

It's been about two weeks since the incident, Eddie refuses to leave the house, he's afraid it might happen again.. I too am afraid it will happen again, the other neighbors keep asking where he is, I say resting, I'm worried they won’t keep taking that as an answer..

—-

Frank closed his journal and went to his room to check on Eddie “hon.. How ya feeling?” he asks, Eddie doesn't respond, “Eddie honey..are you okay..” Frank shook Eddie lightly, no response, Frank began to panic, “Eddie..Eddie..Eddie wake up..Edd-” Eddie had a huge tear in his gut, there was no doubt he was dead, or almost there. Frank immediately grabbed his sewing kit and began sewing up the tear, but he was too late, Eddie was gone..

The End..

[yzeltia]

Handed Down from Stone

Chapter 17: Etched in Gold Characters: Y'zel Tia, Saru'a Nbolo, Saru'to Nbolo, Sasi Nbolo, Salah Nbolo, Deleh Nbolo, Saru Nbolo Rating: T for Tia Notes:

Old Sharlayan 1560

"Claws up! And then pivot!"

Y'zel flipped his tail about behind him as he took his stance, his Uncle Saru'to before him taking a mirrored movement as his older uncle Saru'a gave orders.  Letting out a little yell, the boy charged, punching hard into his uncle, knocking him back before finding the other's fist, lightly, colliding into his lower jaw, laying him back.

"Wide open as always Zel…and a glass jaw," Saru'to sighed, scruffing his nephew to his feet, letting him wildly swing his fists in frustration before giving him a playful fling onto some soft grass.

Y'zel rolled then popped up on his feet, panting a bit as he folded back his ears. "No fair flinging me!"

"When you're in a fight, it might not always be fair," Saru'a responded sagely while Y'zel ran at his other uncle.

Laughing, Saru'to turned and hooked his tail low, letting Y'all trip and fall flat into the grass. The boy laid there a moment, silent before turning over, a little red streak across his head from where he'd struck a rock. Both men went wide eyed, swallowing as the boy touched the blood then looked at his fingers, in turn, letting his eyes widen as well as they filled with tears.

"Nononononono," the twins breathed out, trying to shush him before he let out a wail.

"What the hell did you two do," called out a sharp voice from behind, causing both men's ears and tails to spring up.

"Ah! Sasi! W-we were doing basic pugilist stuff and Y'zel fell," Saru'to explained.

"Uncle Saru'to tripped me," Y'zel bawled.

Huffing, Sasi wandered over then smacked both of her brothers over the back with her ladle before scooping her nephew into her arms. "His father barely lets him visit anymore! If you scrape him up any more we'll never see him again," she huffed before marching back inside, rubbing Y'zel's back while the both Uncles drooped their ears apologetically. 

Taken to the kitchen, Y'zel was plopped on the counter while his auntie found a cloth to wipe his face.

"Sahlah! Bring me the medic kit," she called out before tossing the rag aside and washing her hands, "Enough sniffling, it's just a scratch."

Y'zel rubbed his eyes, watching as she tended to a pot on her stove while frying some bread and butter on the opposite burner. His stomach growled as he leaned over, watching the red liquid in her pot boil as she crushed dried basil in her fist to sprinkle it in.

"What did the boys do now," Salah sighed as she entered the room, setting her kit aside.

"Roughhousing too hard, as always."

Y'zel gave a little nod before jumping as Salah pulled out a large syringe. Scooting away he began to cry again, ears pinned back as he pressed against the counter wall.

"I wondered where I put this...Relax, I'm not using it on you, today," she teased, much to the boy's prolonged horror.

Pulling out a cotton swab, Salah dabbed it against a bottle of peroxide then rubbed it lightly over the cut. 

"My special formula, it should heal overnight," she cooed while Sasi slid him a bowl of the tomato soup with a grilled cheese dunked inside.

Calming down, Y'zel nibbled on the sandwich while Salah packed up and Sasi prepared everyone else's lunch. As things started to settle, a door slammed, the aunties immediately rolling their eyes in response. 

"Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating. The Forum is just a bunch of doddering old do-nothings," Deleh half- screamed as she stormed into the kitchen, stopping to pet Y'all before slumping into a chair, ensuring to flip her robes back. "Leveilleur is the only one that sees the potential we have as a world power, but even that old fool doesn't seek to harness it. Beseeching us to help protect our neighbors to the south instead. With all our knowledge, Garlemald wouldn't stand a chance, yet we dig our heads in the sand anyway for…well, I can't speak of it of course. Y'lem of course is playing politics and not taking sides to protect his interests of course. Of course, it's only a matter of time before we abandon the settlement."

Y'zel listened on, fluttering his ears, unsure what was being said exactly.

"What's gonna happen to my home?"

Deleh looked up, pursing her lips before nursing a spoonful of soup, hand getting smacked by Sasi as she dared reach for some salt. "You'll be moving here with your father if the Forum has its way. There's still a few hold outs…but I imagine a year from now you'll be visiting a lot more."

Y'zel perked up a bit. "I'd like that!"

"We would too dear, we would too."

-Old Sharlayan, present -

Y'zel hummed a bit as he dipped his grilled cheese into his soup, ears fluttering, Pomodoro hovering beside his Aunt Sasi as she laid out food for the Voidsent to slice into with its claws.

"Absolutely amazing! Perfect artisanal slices every time. And it knows the spice…if I only could have my own," she swooned, the Voidsent hovering closer to her, "Oh. I suppose you want a treat, try this," she offered, pulling out some fire shards, letting the creature drain the coloring out of it, "When can we expect your Elezen friend to join us again?"

Y'zel swallowed hard, looking to his Auntie. "Zoissette?"

"Oh no, the gentleman you're courting. He's also rather handy in the kitchen," she mused, Pomodoro vanishing in the wake of the compliment, "Something I said?"

"He doesn't like Leonnioux for some reason…"

"I don't see why. He's got his own business and understands the importance of pairing the wine to the right dish. Not to mention an excellent judgment in personalized cocktails."

"H-How exactly did you come to find all this out?"

"Deleh, and my own curiosity. He has a lovely bar, though the Halonic theme is rather off putting to be honest. He's rather quiet too, but I suppose you were raised *Ishgardian*. It definitely accounts for your poor taste, but I can't say you'd have had much better chance with Y'lem in that regard.``

"You went to my workplace."

"Well, of course! You don't check in with us often and it is a public space. Besides, don't you want your aunties to like your boyfriend? He's quite taken with you."

Y'zel whined then rubbed his face before slumping his head down on the table as his Aunt Salah strode in. 

"Did you overfeed him again? You know he has trouble saying no Sasi!"

"I did no such thing! He's barely finished his first sandwich. We're just talking about his boyfriend and he's become bashful."

"Oh? Claudine? He's wonderful for Zel isn't he? A fellow aetheric researcher, lives close to home, and is rather easy on the eyes."

Y'zel let out a groan as Sasi put her hands on her hips, "No, the Elezen one!"

"Pardon? I didn't believe Zel swung that way. Deleh will be pleased at the prospect of a lawyer in the family."

"No! Please stop," Y'zel begged while Sasi laughed.

"The brooding Ishgardian that tended to our spirits during our Starlight party."

"Oh. Him? The religious one that kept fiddling with his rosary and staring down Zel?"

"Yes."

"Oh no. That's an awful match."

"They grew up together! A former knight, a business owner, apprenticed as a sommelier, and has an excellent pallet."

"And a reverent fool. Y'zel needs a man of science, someone that will challenge him intellectually and bring him home more often. Claudine can do all of that and is charismatic. His students adore him."

Sauntering in, Deleh leaned against a door, "And invests all his money in his work, leaving him to rely on Y'zel for proper living quarters. The same can be said of Leonnioux."

"That's not exactly-" Y'all started.

"I'm proud that you've learned to interject, but do not interrupt me when I'm speaking," the woman scolded, shoving Y'zel's sandwich into his mouth as she sat down across from him.

"Y'zel's lived a hard life away from us. He needs someone who can give him the finer things in life, not to mention none of us are having any luck finding a mate. Our family dynasty is at stake."

The two sisters went quiet for a moment, both thinking while Deleh nodded and stole Y'zel's soup for herself, pushing the sandwich back into his mouth before he could get a word out.

"Who would you have him be with then," Salah huffed flippantly.

"Well, all my first choices went out the window given he's no interest in the fairer sex. The Gage Acquisitions' owner I thought might be a good match but unfortunately is in a monogamous relationship and rather uncomfortable with the prospect as a whole. He did sing some praise on our dear nephew's part, though I can't be sure if that was the increased Gil allowance for the gleaner's contract…Y'all, honey, it's rude to make that much noise at the dinner table," she scolded while he panicked and choked in the wake of her comments.

"That's not a who. Claudine or Leonnioux," Sasi insisted.

"The Limsan rogue he's been courting."

"You've got to be kidding me," Salah responded wryly, rubbing Y'zel's back as he caught his breath.

"I'm not. He's cunning and charming. Not afraid to get his hands dirty. With some etiquette lessons no doubt he'd have any committee under his thumb. The question is how to tame him," the eldest sister mused before biting at her nail.

Breath restored, Y'zel looked to the trio. "Perhaps we could…talk about literally anything else? And please stop bothering my employers!!"

"Honey, we're your aunties. Your mother, who you are named for, would never forgive us if we didn't make sure we were looking out for your best interest. We won't be around forever…I'm just a young woman of twenty-nine, but I will be old and retire someday. I want to make sure you're being taken care of and our family as a whole is too."

Sasi narrowed her eyes, "Fancy yourself the youngest sister now do you?"

"The older Y'all gets the closer her age gets to his," Salah sighed.

"Shouldn't you be-"

"Turning thirty soon? If the Scholar wills it. Traders take all who say otherwise."

"I still say Claudine is the best match. Far more realistic, even for your machinations," Salah sighed.

Y'zel swallowed then stood, "Y-You do realize I'm with all three of them, correct?"

"Yes, Yes. We're well aware of the Seeker in you. We're far from a traditional Keeper family anyway. Mother insists on keeping the twins around like they're still boys and we don't fall over ourselves for the Lover as the rest of our kind. Even your mother tolerated Y'lem's lingering presence and insisted he raised you."

Y'zel frowned at the flippancy of it all, Deleh returning to her conversation about his love life. While they argued, he slipped away only to be caught by the tail as he arrived at the foyer. 

"Leaving without saying goodbye to your Granny Saru?"

Y'zel perked up then turned, hugging her tightly with a happy purr, "I'm sorrry Granny."

The woman patted his back gently before pulling back. "Pay no mind to those hens. Do the men in your life make you happy?"

Y'zel nodded, face tinting pink a bit as he was made to think on it.

"Then they're all good matches for you then and I'm happy they make you happy," she praised, wandering back, standing perpendicular to her grandson, “Now come. Show your Granny how your training has been coming along.”

Y’zel was taken aback, wrists coming up defensively as the older woman, “G-Granny!?”

“Who do you think taught all of your Aunties and Uncles? Come on now.”

The Miqo’te swallowed, clumsily moving into Opo-Opo form. In a blink, the woman closed the gap between them and soon after Y’zel found him sprawled out on his back, Saru looking over him and shaking her head.“Neglecting your training…and still have that glass jaw. Come on now, Granny Saru will get you a nice ice pack. Boys! Come help your nephew!”

Groaning, Y’zel returned to his feet, both Uncles helping him up and ruffling his hair before leading him back to the kitchen. As he rejoined everyone, he offered a small smile, happy to be so welcome after so long.

[the-blackorchid1]

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