#i think we need a corrupt vanilla

[hivemindclown]

not so pure vanilla

still can't draw, saving up for a new tablet but till then have an OLD ass drawing i did of that one famous evil vanilla design.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Virgin

Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.

Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship

Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.

This is long and I'm not sorry about it.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity

        Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else. 

        You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.

        "So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.

        "Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.

        "No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."

        "Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.

        "Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.

        "Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.

        "What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."

        "Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."

        "You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."

        "Is that a bad thing?"

        "Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"

        Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?

        It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You  just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?

        A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?

        "Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.

        "Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"

        "Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off. 

        "Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed. 

        "Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."

        "Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.

        You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.

        "Pretty dress." He complimented.

        "Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.

        "Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.

        "Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.

        "Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.

        You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.

        "Sure you're alright?" He asked again.

        "Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"

        He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass. 

        "You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?" 

        "A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"

        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."

        "Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.

        "Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."

        "It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."

        She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.

        "Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.

        "Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"

        "Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."

        "I do wear dresses sometimes--"

        "Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that." 

        "W-- I know, I just.."

        "Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.

        "I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"

        He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."

        "Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."

----

        About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?

        He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?

        His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." 

        You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?

        You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.

        Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.

        So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?

        "Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.

        "What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"

        He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.

        "Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."

        "I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."

        Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.

        "All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."

        "What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?

        "Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.

        Bite? Is that a sex thing?

        It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.

`        "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.

        Word vomit.

        Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.

        "Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that  just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."

        He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night. 

        You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.

        "I do want to."

        He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.

        "Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.

        He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.

        "Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.

        "I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.

        "Ya sure?"

        "Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.

        "Ya been drinkin'."

        "I'm not drunk."

        "But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"

        You didn't respond. He had a point.

        "Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."

        "I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.

        "Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.

        "Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"

        Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?

        "Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"

        While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.

        "Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you. 

        "I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"

        You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?

        "I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."

        "I don't think ya mean that."

        "I do." You insisted.

        He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.

        "Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"

        You faltered. What?

        "What?"

        "Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again. 

        "Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive. 

        "Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex." 

        He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.

        "Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"

        He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"

        Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"

        "And..." You trailed off. 

        "Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.

        "I am too!" 

        "No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.

        "I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.

        "Teach ya what?"

        "I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.

        "Really?" 

        "Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.

----

        After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in  your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.

        "So." You began.

        "Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush  the hair off of it.

        "Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.

        He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.

        He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.

        When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.

        "Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.

        "All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.

        "Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.

        "Lay down." He instructed softly.  You did. 

        He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?

        He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.

        He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?

        He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.

        He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.

        He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.

        His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.

        "Please.." You whispered. 

        He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.

        He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.

        He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.

        "Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.

        "I just--"

        "Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?

        He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.

        "Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.

        He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.

        You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.

        He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders. 

        "Oh god."  You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.

        So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm. 

        It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.

        He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.

        Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.

        Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.

        When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.

        "Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.

        "Yes." You whispered. 

        He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.

        "Y'alright?"

        "Uh-huh." You squeaked.

        "Y'sure?"

        "Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.

        He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.

        When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated. 

        When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and  faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.

        He leaned into your ear.

        "Can ya cum again for me?"

        Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."

        "Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.

        "Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.

        "C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.

        A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore. 

        He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.

        "Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.

        "Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need  more."

        He chuckled. "I need time to--"

        "I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day." 

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[calisources]

𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂, 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋, 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences have been taken from different media to be compiled into a list. This is not a meme for minors, the content here goes from mild to highly sexual, topics like dominance, submissive, bondage,praise kink and breeding are all present so discretion is key. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

You are perfect. And now you wear my mark, your ass is mine.

Tie me up, please…

Kiss me hot,heavy,wet & angry with that attitude like you do when your mouth yells it hates me but your tongue screams it can’t wait for me.

Let me undress your body, caress your skin and wetly massage your mind back into making love to me again.

They wanted her. They all loved her. And they wanted to keep her.

A little vanilla never hurt anybody.

If you have any sense you’ll stay away from him.

Touch me, like this, like a good girl.

That’s it, use your tongue. 

I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time, but maybe I should take you here, by the mirror, so you can see how splendid we are together.

I’m not going to deny that I want to fuck you. I cannot do anything else, But I will say that I have plans for you if you say yes.

I’ll fuck you so good, for so long that the only thing you’ll crave is my hands on your skin, my cock deep in your pussy.

I want a second serving of you. I’m hard just thinking of your perfect breasts and hard nipples.

As much as I appreciate that, right now you’re all I want to eat.

Now will you please sit on my face already?

You are corrupting me, Theo.

But you like being corrupted, don't you, sweet girl?

The destruction of something beautiful can appear so entertaining.

If women were totally satisfied with their sexual and lovemaking experiences, women would welcome the lovemaking experience as much as men.

I want to learn from you. Teach me what you know.

Once I make you mine, you will be mine forever. I will call you and you will come, in more ways than one.

What have I taught you? Show me, sweet girl.

Use your thighs, ride like it’s your last day on this earth.

I been aching to be inside you since we met, you devil woman.

Hands braced against the wall, and open your legs.

You tasted sweet, like oranges, liquid sunshine in my mouth.

I need you. Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.

The things I want from you, darlin’, will give you nightmares, ones like you’ve never had before.

If you could read my mind, I’m pretty sure you’d either be traumatized, sexually aroused or both.

The nicer you treat her outside the bedroom, the naughtier it will get inside the bedroom.

Sex is a part of nature. I go along with nature.

That’s it. You can take a lot more, don’t you? Hold on to me.

If you behave, I’ll let your hands go and touch me.

I love your skinny legs, and what's between them.

 I don't want words, but inarticulate cries.

All you have to do is beg, and I will give you what you want.

I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

You make the sweetest little noises. But I need you to be louder, let everyone know.

It's like an itch, isn't it? You can feel it in your throat. You want to scream for me.

Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. Only me. You are mine.

I felt like an animal, and animals don't know sin, do they?

And ye whimper under me, and struggle as though you wanted to get away, and I know it's only that you're struggling to come closer, and I'm fighting the same fight.

I can help you with that.

Forgetting him. Moving on. I’m okay with being your rebound. I’ve already said that I want you.

You’ll give yourself to me? Let me take control? Let me send you over the edge of ecstasy time and again until you awaken?

Possess. Have. Hold. Enjoy. Control. Dominate. Pick your verb, Ms. Fairchild. I intend to explore so very many of them.

I feel claimed.

You’re so primed. I can feel that hot little pussy clenching around me every time I move a muscle or say a word.

Yeah, arch your back so I can look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.

Pet, I give you permission to be as vocal as you wish, because I am going to blow your mind in a few minutes and I want to hear how much you enjoy the ride.

If you want me to touch you, all you have to do is ask. It would be my pleasure -  and yours.

Watch me make love to you.

I'd like to bite that lip.

I want you sore, baby.

I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you.

There is no room in my body for anything but you.

Eat me, drink me; thirsty, cankered, just take me as I am.

I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being.

I’m not wearing anything underneath. Want to see?

You will be staying here until I’ve deemed it safe for you to go back to your life. Do you understand me?

Dominate you? Yes. Master you? yes. Make you yield to what you want, make you surrender to who you truly are? Yes.

Why don’t you scream my name? Let every other man and woman who you belong to.

I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.

I taught you everything you know. Every man after me is just a shadow of what I did to you.

I knew you could be a good girl.

You were fucking made for me.

God is not gonna save you from me, baby.

My mouth wants you, I want to feel you in my mouth, way down in my mouth.

I am moist between the legs.

I came three times. During sex. 

Do you know all the ways a Lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you?

You stay right where daddy puts you, baby girl.

Wait until you taste her. She is fucking delicious.

Lick my fingers and feel how wet you are.

Are there big, bad monsters in the woods who want to eat me up?

Right there, don’t stop. I can feel it. 

Please come in me, I don’t care, I want to feel you.

Where do you want it, baby girl? Your cunt, your mouth or your neck?

Close your eyes and relax. One kiss. I don’t bite.

Seriously? In the morning, again? 

You said to rest but I can feel you hard against my back. 

You can do all the rest sweet, let me take care of you.

I want you to fuck me, Chris.

A little playful banter never hurt — or did it?

One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.

Come here and undress me.

How am I supposed to do my job when all I can think about is getting back to you?

Someone could walk in on us. 

Better be good and come fast, then. Or everyone will see you begging for more.

I can imagine my hands getting your fucking clothes off right now.

Do not shy away from the sensations I create, Cherry Blossom. Take pride in them, as I do.

Am I doing it good, baby? Just like you taught me? 

Tell me I’m a good girl. Your only girl. 

When I come, I come for you. Because of you and your mouth, hands, and insatiable little cunt.

My tongue, my fingers, my cum inside you. Just you and me, Eva. Intimate and raw.

How many have been with you ever since? Or no one compared? Tell me.

Show me then. I demand that you show me. That’s an order.

[chxrrysangel]

Night Visits

Eddie has been known to climb trees, especially ones that lead to a certain best friend’s bedroom window. He’s also been know to be quite skilled with his fingers.

Pairing | perv!eddie x (f) best friend!reader

Warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, honorifics, Eddie talks a lot about cum idk, religious imagery, inexperienced!reader

Word count | let’s just say smedium for now

Technically Part One

Eddie took a short assessment of the large oak tree, testing its sturdy branches under his weight before making the climb. It seemed safe…enough. Tying up his hair into a makeshift ponytail, so as not to get caught in the bark, he made his ascend to your second story window. He thanked Ozzy for the barely there streetlights in your neighborhood, making it much easier to be stealthy without the watchful eye of passer-bys.

The soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated your bedroom, reminding him of home. The lampshade created a shape akin to a halo over your features, which Eddie thought was quite fitting. He did the signature knock against the glass, alerting you to his presence. Your lips sported matching smiles as the window came up, letting in the cool breeze that carried Eddie’s signature scent. He smelled like evergreen trees, sandalwood, and weed if you stood close enough. And vanilla. His shampoo smelled like vanilla.

“Eds, it’s so late. What are you doing here?”

“I can’t come to see my favorite person?”, he retorts as he climbs through the window. His cow eyes scan your room, taking in the changes since the last time he was here. You plopped down onto your bed, watching him spin around.

“Now I didn’t say that. But it is a Saturday night, I’ve got church in the morning.” His mouth forms on ‘o’ shape in understanding. If there’s one thing you’ll commit to, it’s the church. It was quite endearing to him how devout you are, which made his plans for you all the more enticing.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to make this a sleepover,” he grins knowingly, mischief evident in his tone.

His eyes glance over to your purple alarm clock, noting the time. 11:43 pm. He makes himself comfortable beside you on the bed, inching closer every so often. You try to ignore him, attempting to focus on the book you were reading. At least it worked a little bit, until you felt a ghostly fingertip creep up your bare thigh.

“Yes, Eddie? Can I help you?” He looked almost angelic, if it weren’t for the hunger in his eyes.

“No. Not at all, sweetheart. Keep reading, don’t mind me.”

Except now you couldn’t. The words on the page blurred while you felt his fingertips move further up your legs. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, nerves getting the best of you.

“You know I’ve been thinking about that night every day since?”, your best friend confessed.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, working up the courage to look him in the eye.

“Yeah?”

Your voice was just barely above a whisper, unable to speak louder for fear of it cracking. His fingertips didn’t stop dancing along your inner thigh, making it rather hard to focus. He nodded, hunger in his eyes still.

“You look like you wanna eat me, Eds.” He smiled sweetly, a stark contrast to the thoughts running through his head.

“Trust me, I want to.” He leaned in close, whispering the words in your ear.

His hand gripped the hem of your shorts, pulling lightly. He was a tease and he knew that. But the way your pupils dilated with need at every touch made it all worth torturing you.

“Do you wanna do what we did again?” You nodded fervently, not caring if you came on too strong. Eddie liked that about you, how eager you were. It was…sweet. Eddie bypassed the hem of your shorts, feeling for the wet spot on your underwear he knew would be present. The metalhead m smiled to himself, enjoying how easily you become putty in his hands. Slowly he dragged his fingertips over your slit, rubbing your clit through the thin material. He watched your hips push against his hand, making him chuckle quietly.

“You like when I do that, yeah?” Something akin to a yes was muttered under your breath, too focused on the circling of his fingers. You were almost too cute to corrupt. Almost.

“More, Eddie. More.” Now who was Eddie to deny you? He peppered soft kisses across your bare shoulders and collarbones before making his way down the length of your body. Just the thought of what he was about to do to you made his cock leak.

~~~

Your sex glistened in the soft light, wet with arousal. Eddie tried not to stare but fuck, he thought, you had such a pretty pussy. He glanced at you from the foot of the bed, taking notice of your shallow breathing and wet lips. Such a needy girl, he thought. Not breaking eye contact, he flattened his tongue to lick a stripe up to your clit.

The feeling was unfamiliar, but so good.

Eddie pulled your body closer to his face, forcing your thighs to spread. He started off slow, tongue meticulous but forceful. Eventually the novelty wore off, giving way to pleasure when your hips began to push towards his face of their own accord. He was like a starved man, sucking on your clit as though your body could provide all the sustenance needed to survive.

Your wetness dripped down his chin, covering his pink lips in a light sheen. It was absolutely sinful. A particularly strong motion forced a deep guttural moan from the back of your throat, perhaps too loud to be lied away if you were caught. Eddie stopped, eyes darting towards you with a certain dominance.

“Pretty girl, I know I know. But I need you to be quiet. Don’t wanna get caught now do you?”. His voice was stern enough to make you cower if it weren’t for the most charming grin you’d ever seen on his lips. It softened the blow some, but the message received.

His middle finger prodded against your entrance before slowly slipping in, meeting almost no resistance. He watched your eyes roll back, biting your lips to soften the mewls he pulled from your lips with every pump.

Eddie didn’t believe in god, but watching your precious innocence unravel as he fingered your pussy was something of an angel. He went back to lay between your thighs, teeth grazing across your clit and sucking up your juices. He chuckled lowly to himself, enjoying the way your hips met his stroking fingers to chase your orgasm.

“Eddie, please,” you begged stuttering on his name. He cooed, shushing and telling you to be good for him. Your walls fluttered around his fingers, squeezing in a way that hinted you were close. Your shallow breaths increased in frequency, feeling the tightness of an upcoming orgasm. It was just like before, only now you kind of knew what was to come. You chanted your best friend’s name into your pillow, trying your best to keep quiet but hardly being successful.

“That’s it princess, cum for me. I know you can do it.” Eddie’s praises did little to help your self control, which he realized with the way your walls fluttered at every new nickname. He watched intently as you came, not stopping his attack on your clit as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

“That’s my girl.” Slowly he pulled his fingers out, nearly cumming in his pants when his ears picked up on your soft whines. Eddie wished he had a camera in this moment, the entire scene at play worthy of being recorded. From the post-orgasm sheen on your skin and puffy bitten lips, to the slick on his fingers, he was convinced this was his haven.

Eddie sucked on his digits, relishing in the way you tasted. You were so cute like this, fucked out and he’d barely done a thing to you. Your head was clearly somewhere else, drifting while you came down back to Earth. Eddie’s erection strained against his jeans, something he would take care of at a later time. Or now, with you watching. The thought alone almost made him cum right then and there.

[galesdevoteewife]

Some thoughts on Act 3 cutscene, endings and the line “To know you love me for the man I am"

[ Gale romance spoiler all the way to the epilogue ]

In my vanilla playthrough, the particular act 3 cutscene dialogue which Gale wanted the crown caught me off guard. It was one of the rare bg3 moments that stirred complicated feelings within me. (to a point I was considering maybe I should romance Emperor lmao) The structure of his proposal felt thoroughly planned and scripted. Every question I raised was met with a well prepared answer.

Too ambitious? It's not for myself; it's for us, for the greater good. Too dangerous? What have we done that wasn't risky? We're up to the task! Power corrupts? Just a means to an end. I’ll still be me, just an improved version. Now I only need a kiss.

I viewed it from the perspective of him hard-selling the player a difficult decision, and the entire conversation felt strategic. Topping it off with the famous line, “With you, I forget my goddess. I love you.” Such a powerful, attention-grabbing statement delivered with utmost sincerity. It's likely that the player would remember only this line, also making it more difficult to reject him. While I don't doubt his love for them, his motives were a question to me.

One of the things that makes Gale's darker path unique is that everything looks beautiful—voyage through the galaxy, kissing lovers, his voice, so tender and sincere. There's no eerie light, no violence, no bloodshed.

Some thoughts on his true intention and how insecurity is the must-solve in Gale's romance arc

In my opinion Gale’s main emotional knot in relationship is the insecurities he harbors. He holds a logic that he is loved (or tolerated) because of his power. Gale Dekarios wanted to be seen and loved but he "holds a poor figure next to Gale of Waterdeep". While there are exceptions like Tara, his mother, and perhaps Elminster, who love him for who he is; it's not his default to believe that people would appreciate him without his power/achievement/service.

With that in mind and let's circle back to why he wants godhood.

If the player reject him in the boat scene, his instant reaction is: “But I could be so much more to you.” If they reject godGale: “I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?” –Not a word about the better world. I wasn’t convinced he wanted the godhood “for the betterment of all”.

Instead, what he truly wants is the player’s heart... and I think he believes that obtaining the crown and godhood can win them over. Awkwardly, he would need their help to get rid of the elder brain and he is trying hard to convince them.

Some argue that godGale quickly transforms into the type of passive deity he despised, but I hold my opinion on how deeply he cares about the world in the first place. True, he could sacrifice himself to save the day, but he always says "it's the right way/fate" with nothing empathetic for the general folks. I am suspicious that he says it to dismiss the player's concern.

A bit of addition to this theory. Seeking godhood is not a new ambition for him, according to Elminster's epilogue letter. In my canon, he desired it for Mystra if not for the player, attempting to draw closer to her as an equal.

Gale, the god of ambition

Ascending without resolving inner conflicts is like thrusting a dagger into redemption Durge's hands, potentially exacerbating the situation. The ascension path strengthens this twisted logic. Looking at the godGale romance ending cutscene, he gets to dress the player in matching outfits, hold them in his arms, in his realm, in his symbol. They are finally his, and he would believe it’s the power that made it happen.

However, this would lead down to a never ending thorny path with an insatiable hunger. As a god of ambition, it's in his nature to desire more, continually pursuing additional power because it's a viable all-purpose solution in his mind. He will work his way up to the god rank, might even consume a few, "bringing chaos that even trembles the heavens" —according to Raphael. And guess what? In the dnd universe, there are even superior beings above AO.

Nonetheless I hold hopes and optimism towards the godGale romance. I don’t see anything stopping the player from starting to make things better and nudging him into better use of his godhood. Ambition is not necessarily a bad thing. However, at the point where the game ends, this path is a dimmer one.

Some thoughts on the line: “To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command... None have loved me so purely before.”

When I first saw this line and my tav reacted with a sad face I thought she was thinking “Huh? But i love you for your magic too??” xD

It just doesn’t make sense if he is drawing a conclusion that the player would love him for a 0 magic muggle Gale. He is a wizard. His alliance with the player was built on him contributing to their journey with his magical ability, and their romance was sparked by a shared moment through the weave.

My interpretation is that what he meant by “the magic I command” was referring to the mighty power he used to possess, and “the man I am” was everything he showed you—his love for magic, nerdy side, witty jokes, cooking… things that he thinks define who he truly is. In my canon, he probably went through a long period where his title/talent was all that mattered to people, for his portfolio was way too strong (if I read my dnd materials right, lorewise he could be a legendary character even. I will make a post once I put my findings together). The Chosen of Mystra (among the 22 known chosen in more than a thousand years, some of them are even Mystra’s daughters), the prodigy archmage with the gift to conduct the weave. He could have experienced hurt multiple times as people showed little interest in his personality, then he fell back to conceal Gale Dekarios behind the Gale of Waterdeep fortress. However, this consequently blocked him from building real friendships/relationships.

His circle is small, yet I suspect it's partly because he wouldn't let people come close enough to see Gale Dekarios. Even in Act 3, he still wants to keep it between the player and himself. At the beginning of the journey, he denied the player's attempts to know anything other than his profession. If the player is a wizard, he would even play authority and "apprentice" them. By the by, here's an interesting reading about how he might be masking.

Professor Dekarios of Illusory school

Lastly, my favorite path for Gale! Ugh, it just melts me to see him smile that wayyy (How can Tim and the team be so genius and make the expression distinctive???? I mean, he has been smiling all the time, but especially sweet in the epilogue???) He is content. He knows he doesn't need the mask, nor power, or godhood for the player and him to be each other's. From my point of view, it's an arc of self-acceptance and unknotting. He is convinced power isn't everything, and he chooses to teach illusory magic (gotta admit, destruction-force wise it’s almost a harmless school) for he is the one who wants magic for realizing imagination and the one who shed tears over burned roses.

The path in which Gale Dekarios believes that he is seen, understood, loved, and finds peace. Nothing I would like him to have more. I hold true love for this fictional 3D man *wipe away joyful tears*

Sidenote [1]: Some hate Gale for thinking he's only “pretending”. I personally think he is a well-layered character, for there are so many ways to explain him and plenty of room for ambiguity, making it fun to think about his thinking.

Sidenote [2]: I inevitably project some of myself onto him. The concept of “you don’t need to try so hard, pretending to be someone else to be accepted by the world. you only need to find the right band.” is a kind thought that’s so cozy to me.

[thetriumphantpanda]

The sexual tension between the prompts ‘i shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you’ and ‘say you want me, and i’m yours’

Please give this to us with Javier Peña

(Also these prompts are so Javier Peña coded, I couldn’t think about anyone but him)

Nonnie, you are not alone in not being able to think about anyone else but Javier Peña for these prompts because I'm right there with you.

Firstly, I apologise - I got TOTALLY carried away with this and managed nearly 3K words for this prompt. Secondly, I apologise for what this is going to do to you all.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 2.7K (Oooops, right?)

Porn with plot below the cut. Mention of religion, drinking, smoking, and description of unprotected piv sex and oral (f receiving). ENJOY.

Javier Peña is in trouble, there is no denying it. When he came back to Laredo after the shitstorm in Colombia he’d wanted a quiet life. Helping Chucho around the ranch, maybe getting in his truck to take weekend trips to places he’d never been before, all the things he thought he was supposed to do with his extremely early retirement from the DEA. He hadn’t banked on the daughter of the towns pastor bounding into his life and testing every ounce of resolve he’d ever had. 

He wasn’t a religious man. There was no way he could be with what he’d seen or done in South America, but when Chucho had insisted on him attending church with him in the week that he’d come back, spouting something about needing to get back into town life instead of hiding himself away, his eyes had landed straight on the innocent girl sat in the front row, hands folded on her lap, listening intently to what the pastor was saying. 

“Since when did we have a new pastor?” Javier had asked when they’d made it outside, cigarette firmly between his lips despite telling himself he’d give up. 

“Moved in a few months ago,” His dad had replied, “Seem a nice family, I think their daughter is twenty-five, just back from college.” 

He’d nodded in understanding, trying not to let his eyes drag down your figure too much as you stood with your father at the door of the church to shake hands with everyone filing out to go about their Sunday business. He couldn’t help it though. You were shorter than him with hair falling around your face, framing it perfectly. That day you’d dressed in a modest white dress, falling just below the knee with sandals and he couldn’t help but compare you to an angel in his mind. An angel that he wanted so desperately to corrupt from the second he'd laid eyes on you. 

“Bad idea son,” Chucho had warned, “Of all the people in this town you could look at like that, this has to be the worst one.” 

He really had tried to heed his father’s advice. He knew it would be a terrible idea. A girl like you needed a straight and narrow man, someone to put a ring on your finger, buy you a house with a white picket fence and have babies. He was not that man. He would never be that man. However, from that day forward he’d seen you more and more. 

The first time he struck up a conversation with you was in the grocery store. Chucho had sent him into town to pick up some ingredients for dinner and he’d found you with your head in the freezer section, two pints of ice cream in front of you, trying to decide which one you wanted. 

“The mango one is my personal favourite.” He’d offered his advice, feeling like he’d been shot through the chest when you turned to look at him, big, beautiful eyes with an innocence to them he’d not seen in a long time. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had mango ice cream before.” You’d replied. 

“Well then, you have to try it and then you have to let me know what you think.” 

He watched as you smiled at him, setting down the other pint of vanilla ice cream to put the mango in your shopping basket. 

“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” Javier spoke, “I’m Javier.” He held out his hand which you took, immediately overwhelmed with how soft your skin was and how small your hand was in his. 

You introduced yourself, “I think I’ve seen you at church.” 

“I have to admit I’m not a religious man, I just go because my father insists,” He’d admitted, “Probably not the best thing to say to the pastor’s daughter though.”  You’d laughed, “Between me and you, I’m not religious either.” 

He made a motion that he was zipping his lips which made you laugh even further. A sound so sweet he’d convinced himself he needed to do everything he could so he could hear it at much as possible. 

After that he’d found himself running into you more often. He’d make excuses to go to town in the hopes of running into you, he’d figured out your routine – you had lunch with friends at the diner on a Tuesday, always went to pick up ice-cream on a Friday evening and were always at church on Sunday. He’d even joined the library, figuring out you went on a Saturday afternoon to spend an hour picking out a new book and reading the first few pages sat on one of the benches there – something he’d started doing to just so he could spend time with you. He knew he was in too deep. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to get close to you, but the more he learnt about the less he could help himself. 

His father had always been a perceptive man and he knew what was going on. Why else would his son be rushing to shower in the middle of the day, changing into shirts that weren’t covered in mud and full of holes to disappear into town for hours on end. It came to a head one Saturday evening when they were sat on the front porch drinking beers together. 

“So, are you actually ever going to ask her out, or just follow her around like a lost puppy?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi had replied, feigning innocence. 

“We both know you’re not that stupid,” He’d stated, “Although I always thought you’d be smarter than to think a guy like you would be good for a girl like her.” 

Javier would have been offended but it was true. Colombia had traced a darkness through him that he couldn’t shake. Waking up in cold sweats from the nightmares, glaring at the boats he saw riding down the river knowing exactly where they were going and with what on board, remembering all the people who had died, and for what? When he wasn’t with you he was closed off and hard and did he really want that to rub off on you? 

“I don’t mean to say you’re a bad person son, far from it,” Chucho had added, “But you’re different since you came back and there something in you that isn’t good for her, isn’t good for you.” 

He’d wanted to tell Chucho that he was sure you could help to heal him. That the sunshine and joy you exuded at every moment would be enough to take away the pain he was holding in, but it was too much to ask of you and he knew it. It wasn’t your job to fix his broken shell and he knew better than to ask. 

From that day forward he’d stopped going to town so much. He’d returned his last library book and not gone back and his appearance at church was now pretty much non-existent. Chucho had even stopped asking him to go into town for groceries, opting to do it himself.

He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever, but he’d hoped by pulling away that whatever attachment you’d both formed to each other would dissipate. How wrong he had been. 

***

The end of summer had arrived, soon it would be harvesting time and then Christmas would soon follow but not until the community came together for the end of summer cookout. Javier had thought about not going but Chucho had insisted. Said people had been asking after him and that he needed to show his face to prove he was still alive if nothing else. 

It was warm and he was sipping a beer when he spotted you, stood with a group of your friends with a can of soda in your hand. You’d waved at him when your eyes met, and he’d lifted his bottle in acknowledgement before going back to the conversation he had found himself wound up in with his father and another rancher about the types of feed they were giving to their cattle. 

It wasn’t until later that evening when he was fishing around the barrel for another beer that you appeared next to him. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You’d said bluntly. 

“I haven’t, I’ve just been busy.”

“Right, okay,” He knew you could see right through him, “You’ve definitely been avoiding me.” 

“Yeah, okay, I’ve been avoiding you.” He finally admitted. 

“Why?” You’d asked. 

God why were you so different? Any other woman he’d spent time with would have taken the hint and left, but not you. You wanted your explanation, seemingly unfazed with what it would be. 

“Just seemed like the right thing to do.” He shrugged. 

For some reason he’d expected you to be upset but you’d mirrored his shrug, seemingly accepting the stupid excuse for an explanation. He went to turn but felt your hand grab him, squeezing it before turning and walking away, revealing that you’d left a small scrap of paper in his palm. 

He looked closely at it and found an address scrawled on it. He knew exactly where it was. The address for the park just outside of town. He knew because when he’d been here at school it was where all the teenage couples had gone to have privacy from prying eyes. There was a big tree at the end of the park which had famously been the place many of his classmates, including him had lost their virginity. Next to the address, the words 9pm tonight. Were scrawled next to it. He shouldn’t go, he really shouldn’t, but then when has Javier ever listened to logic? 

***

You were already there when he arrived in his truck, leant against the tree waiting for him. He cut the truck off and switched his headlights off, grateful that the sun was still setting, giving you both enough light to see each other. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” You admitted as he walked to you. 

“I considered not coming.” Was his own admission. 

“Why did you?” Came the next question. 

“Probably something to do with leaving my moral compass at the airport when I arrived in Colombia and never going back for it.” 

“Lucky Colombia,” You mused, “I’d like to see what that actually means.” 

“Hermosa,” He groaned, “You can’t do this to me.” But he was stepping towards you instead of stepping away. 

“It’s actually all your fault Javier,” You smirked, moulding yourself into the tree further as he stepped towards you, “If you hadn’t talked to me about mango ice cream or joined the library just to sit in silence with me and read we’d both be fine,” You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he came to stop right in front of you – the slightest movement and he’d be pressed up against you, “Now all you need to do is kiss me.” 

“I shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you.” He spoke, mostly to himself than anything else. 

“Say you want me and I’m yours, Javi.” 

If he wasn’t already damned to hell he was now. His lips were on yours in the blink of an eye, hands cupping either side of your face as you opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as you groaned. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his and he let out a similar noise to you, moving his hands from your face to the swell of your ass through your dress to pull you as close to him as he possibly could. 

You pulled away from his mouth, pushing him back slightly to lean back against the tree. He watched with fire in his eyes as you pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing to him that you were bare under your dress. 

He fell to his knees in front of you, not caring about the dust and dirt his jeans would inevitably pick up, “Querida, eres el diablo.” He’d spoken before placing his hands at your hips, watching you shuffle your feet apart. 

His mouth was like white hot heat when it touched your pussy. All those nights spent in your room touching yourself over what it would feel like for Javier to finally touch you were over, and it was better than you ever could have hoped. His tongue was quick and precise, finding your clit and homing in on it in seconds, switching between quick flicks and circles to taking it into his mouth and sucking. Your head was thrown back against the tree in pleasure, your hand threaded into his hair to keep his mouth exactly where you needed it. Within minutes you were cumming on his tongue with his name falling from your lips in a moan. 

Your chest was heaving in an attempt to catch your breath when Javi rose from his knees in front of you. He sealed his mouth back to yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You took hold of his belt loops and pulled him towards you, making light work of undoing the button on his jeans and taking the zip down before he took over, pushing them and his underwear down to pool at his ankles as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“This isn’t… I mean, sorry this is going to sound weird, but this isn’t your first time, right?” Javier spoke, his cock nudging at your weeping entrance whilst he had you pressed against the tree with your legs wrapped around him. 

You threw your head back in a laugh, of course he’d ask that right now as his cock was almost inside of you, “Javier, I’m just from a religious family, I’m not a nun,” You shifted your hips as an invitation, “Now please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” 

He did exactly as you’d asked, sheathing his cock in your pussy in one straight motion that had you crying out his name into the ever-darkening night. If you’d have asked Javi if when he pictured the first time, he fucked you it would have been up against a tree, completely bare with nothing but the birds to keep you company he’d have laughed. A girl like you deserved a bed, being fucked by candlelight after he tipped you over the edge with his fingers, then his mouth and then both together before slipping inside of you. He couldn’t say he was complaining though. 

Your tight pussy was clenching around him as he thrusted into you, his hand at the swell of your ass to keep you upright. The moans falling from your lips were scandalous and anytime you mixed his name into them he thought he would lose it. You’d begged him to go harder and faster and then begged him to kiss your neck. At one point the straps of your dress fell from your shoulders which in turn made the material fall away from your chest and his lip had latched onto your nipple before you even knew what was happening. 

“Hermosa, I’m gonna cum, you need to tell me where you want me.” 

“Let me go.” You breathed out. 

He did, letting himself slip from your delicious wet heat before setting your feet on the ground. He was almost disappointed until he watched you drop to your knees in front of him and open your mouth.

“Maldito infierno.” Javi whispered to the sky, before locking his eyes with your own as he pumped his cock with his fist. 

It took no time at all for him to let out a low groan and cum on your tongue. He’d done his best to make sure it landed in your mouth but his cum painted your cheeks and your chin by the time he was done. His eyes never left yours as he watched you swallow what he’d giving you in your mouth and then watched as your fingers scooped what was left on the rest of your face, devouring that too. 

Maybe you hadn’t been the innocent little thing he’d thought you were after all. 

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 08. Harvey (Corruption Kink & Anal)

— ✧ warnings: Corruption Kink, Anal, sex toy, strap on, consent cheks, Established Relationship, Masturbation — ✧ word count: 2,616 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

His voice is shaky and unsure when he eventually gains the confidence to speak, interrupted only by brief bouts of nervous laughter as you hold the silicone item before him, seemingly proud of the size and girth of it, confident that he'll react the way you want. And it's not that he's intent on disappointing you, God no, so far from it! It's just, well;

"Are you sure this'll help me relax?"

He hadn't meant to sound so taken aback, disbelief tainting his otherwise genuine question. But the strap on you so happily wiggle before him is a little intimidating, if he's honest. That, and his analytical mind is unable to conjure up any reason as to why the offending item will supposedly help him de-stress, get him out of his shell as you so eloquently put it earlier on in the week. He's not one to judge, but the scepticism is likely clear on his face; he's never been the best at hiding his emotions. And neither are you apparently, his expression prompting the fall of your own after his admittedly meek questioning leaves his heart hurting a little, aching to reach out and cup your cute little cheeks as a soft reminder that he trusts you! He's just a little anxious, as per usual.

But, you make the first move. Like always, swooping in to save him when his heart is hammering and he struggles to find the right words to express himself appropriately. It's one of his favourite things about you, honestly. How you manage to sync up with him so well without even trying. The romantic within him pinning it down to fate, or destiny.

The look of sympathy you offer him is very much appreciated, an immediate balm to his anxiety ridden heart. Better yet are your sweet reassurances that follow.

"We don't have to do this if you don't wanna, Harvey," Though, the gentle pass of your fingers running up and down his already exposed thigh is all the convincing he needs to proceed ahead with caution, but still he listens to you. Waits for an opportunity to say his piece. "You can always say no— I just think that dabbling outside of your comfort zone might show you that anxieties aren't always telling the truth, y'know?"

While part of him understands that you only have the best of intentions, pretty words promising to help heal him— even if in an odd way. The other half of him is still anxious, fists balled into the familiar sheets below as he trembles before you on your shared bed. When he married you, he knew that there would be obstacles to overcome, difficulties that could—and would—be shared. However, he never expected this. To be stark naked in bed, the pretty sight of you in some delicate lingerie doing wonders for his lust, cock already hard and dripping precum down to his tummy without needing to be touched too much. The strap on you so boldly hold drawing his attention front and centre, gulping at the thought of using it in any capacity beyond decoration.

Still, he persists. Even if only because he trusts you. Completely and utterly, placing all of his faith in you to cure the doctor himself. Where he's failed, he's certain that you'll be able to help— and, there's the added benefit of making you happy too! Something he always strives for.

"No, no," He rushes to answer your acknowledgement of his predicament. "Like you said, um... I think it's worth a shot!"

Ever the vanilla, being pegged as you described it has never crossed his mind before. He knew it existed, of course, but it's never been a topic of discussion in his mind other than: huh, that exists. However, thanks to your insistence on the topic, even going out of your way to research and prep all of the necessary items for the big event, he thinks it's worthwhile trying. There's no use in outright declining an attempt, he'll never know whether he likes it or not without at least trying!

And he's been wanting to be more sexually adventurous with you, even if his thoughts revolved more around having you be on the receiving end of such experimentation. The analysist within him is excited at the prospect of potentially discovering new things about himself, whereas the realist is worried over the practicalities.

Which is where you, fortunately, come in. God forbid he explore the topic on his own, pushing his glasses up in an attempt to focus on the situation at hand, doing his best to not touch his cock to the sight of your pretty smile as you shuffle closer, finding home between his legs. "All right," You start, helping him spread his legs a little wider, toying with the beads of precum at his tip before grabbing the length of his cock with a teasing touch. He inadvertently bucks into the feeling of your soft hands, heat rushing to his cheeks at the cute giggle you let out in response to how sensitive he is.

"Let's warm you up, then."

Two fingers, coated in a mixture of saliva, precum, and lube, press deep inside of him. It's an odd feeling, not wholly unbearable, inching on pleasurable the longer you rest them inside of his asshole. But still, definitely, uncomfortable. Which is probably obvious given how his face scrunches up in inadaptability, slightly cringing at the newfound feeling in his lower half.

"How are you feeling, love?" You tenderly ask him, and it takes him a moment to collect his thoughts. Another few to gather the strength to speak with the pressure he's experiencing below the belt.

"Uh... Weird. I think?" He questions even himself, eyes trained on the way his cock bobs and jerks under him, matching the lazy strokes in and out of his ass from your fingers. It's difficult to deny that some part of him does enjoy the feeling your offering him, it's just that it's new, he decides. Yeah, it's just new and he's just anxious, worried about his performance, how he must look to you right now, slightly hunched over himself as an instinctual reaction to the tension of your fingers inside of him.

And the light laughter you let out given his response only heats his cheeks up some more, his own fingers tightly fisting into the sheets in soft embarrassment. "It's okay, Harvey. I think most people feel that way when they just start too. Give it a few minutes, and then we can decide if you wanna stop or keep going, okay?"

Okay, that he can work with. Once again relaxing his posture, leaning back against the bed headboard to let you work your magic. It only takes a minute or so longer for your words to ring true, for his trust in you to bear fruit— resulting in his body jerking forward at a mere prod against his insides.

"W-Wait!" He ends up gasping, surprised at the tone his exclamation carries itself with, but nonetheless he continues rambling. "What— wait, what was that?" He almost laughs, tenderness present in how his hand wraps lightly around your wrist that's pressed against his ass. He's not even aware that he's doing it until you just as affectionately remove his hand, cooing sweetly for him to relax.

"Told you it'd feel good." You smile, toothy and wide for him to further trust, wide eyes imploring you to show him more of what you mean, because now his interest is piqued.

With every curl of your deft fingers inside, as if pressing on a feel good button, his upper body jerks forward with his cock, spilling precum aplenty for the fingers you have buried knuckle deep in his hole. The once weird and strange feeling in his abdomen soon becoming known and hot. The well acquainted burn in his tummy that he so often experiences when you're touching him slowly climbs back to where it should be, increasing only because you decide to slowly stroke his pulsing cock in tandem with your finger strokes.

His toes curl with your fingers, huffs of air rushed out only for him to gasp it back in, half moans and stuttered words, he's not quite sure what he's trying to convey. One things for sure though, and that's that he doesn't feel so worried any more. The comfortable pooling of lust in his core convincing him to seek out only what feels good, forget about everything else. And he's about to warn you of his fast approaching orgasm, but when words yet again fail him, God can you blame him with the way your fingers skilfully explore his insides, making him feel things he never thought possible, his body does all the talking for him. Shaking under you, panting for air with every pump of your fingers, carding through his hair to clean off the dripping sweat from his forehead.

And then you stop. Suddenly and carelessly. And though he can breathe again, only a pitiful whine escapes him at the loss of stimulation.

"The main event waits, love."

Your reminder of the object to his side startles him out of his lust filled stupor, but only for a moment. For his cock remembers how good it felt to have you inside of him just moments ago, finding himself eagerly nodding for you to proceed, a reassuring grasp at your arm while you get yourself strapped up conveying the message of: please, I'd do anything to feel that way again. Once reserved, now needy.

To be in this position, that is to be under you and not the one on top lining his tip up to your hole, feels strange. Not necessarily in a bad way, but rather... It leaves his head a little dizzy. Body tingling under your touch at the excitement coursing through him, wanting more than anything to keep his mind as empty as it's been turned from your touch.

He feels you tug at his ass, a brief moment of shyness creeping up on him before you compliment him on how pretty it looks. A word he never thought possible to describe himself, but he easily trusts that you're being honest when your gaze meets his own, and he can see the matching hearts in your eyes.

"Be gentle, please..." He mutters, overwhelmed with love and affection for you as you rub the silicon tip up and down between his cheeks, dribbling copious amounts of lube over it despite how wet and pink his asshole already is.

He's not sure why he said it, considering that you are the love of his life and you've already proved to him just how good exploring new things is, helping him relax into the comfy pillows and sheets below as he wiggles himself lower down to get into position for you. But oh to have you lean over him and whisper about how proud you are of him, and how you've always wanted to see him under you like this, distracting him with words of praise as you slowly push the tip of the toy into his stretched out asshole feels so good, ah... Leaves his mouth hanging open and glasses slipping down his nose, a little loving groan escaping him when you kindly help push them back up.

Something as big as the toy almost feels like the experience is restarting all over again, feeling all funny and full in his tummy until you manage to work your faux cock inside of him enough to be fully sheathed. The weight of the toy heavy against his squirmy insides, his brows furrowed in sheer horny frustration.

"Gonna move now, okay?"

He doesn't trust his voice right now, merely nodding up at you as his hand reflexively wraps tight around his throbbing cock when you draw your hips back, squeezing at the base of it as you thrust your hips forward. And the pace is settled quickly, nice and easy and gentle enough for him to grow accustomed to the toy exploring his insides— helped by the fact that he's effectively masturbating in front of you while you tenderly pound his twitching hole.

Tugging his cock up and down, moaning openly at how slippery he feels, front and back. He can barely focus on your face due to his eyes continuously rolling back, body jerking up the bed with your every thrust, humping inside of his tight heat so nicely that he can't help but to compliment you. Spilling babbled thanks between sighs of satisfaction, helping you fuck into him by sliding his ass down onto the toy when he can; as much as possible anyway, given his laying down missionary position under you.

And the feeling of your nails on his thighs, prompting him to lift his legs up and oh— shit.

"Ah, wait—" He begs of you, but certainly doesn't stop jerking off, and he's all too happy for himself when you don't heed his warnings either. Nails digging into the fat of his thighs, pumping the silicone cock in and out of his hole at a new angle; one that immediately tightens the ball of lust in his tummy. "I'm close, gonna cum if you keep going like— ah, like that—!" He urges you for a breather, but when he catches your smirking expression, he understands intimately what you'd rather do.

So he doesn't complain when he feels you pick up the pace, a muffled slap! filling the room with every wet fuck forward you make inside his ass. Moans dripping from his lips, intermingled with half gasps of your name, whines for you to stop, or was it don't stop? Fucking his fist faster too, attempting to match your unfair thrusts, but he's too sloppy with it. Mind too far gone with pleasure to actually attempt to jerk off, instead just idly playing with himself because it feels good. Something he's scarcely done before, but you've brought out some new side of him tonight. One that needs and whines and begs for more, back arching off the sheets when your tip repeatedly knocks against that sensitive spot inside again and again, just like earlier with your fingers.

All he can do is silently stare, brows furrowed in concentration of your every greedy stroke inside, fucking his ass so good that he feels a little numb, honestly. Ropes soon shoot from his tip as his orgasm washes over him, thick and white. Spurting all over his chest, a couple shots landing on his glasses for which he hasn't the capacity to care about, not when you continue to fuck him through the good feeling. Making sure to hump every last drop of cum out of his cock with your toy, milking him dry, his tightly wrapped fist glazed over with sticky seed.

And before clarity has a chance to hit him, he scrambles to beg you to continue, to prolong his empty mind and the good feeling between his legs. The doting smile you wear upon his broken pleading is confirmation enough that you enjoy that idea very much so too.

At least for now, his troubles are far away. And, if ever he needs help in future again, he knows what to ask for. Excited about all the new possibilities your little experiment has brought out of him tonight, wanting to eagerly explore as many options as possible in the safety of your shared 4 walls for the rest of the night.

You wouldn't mind, would you? If he asked for more, a tinge of greed gripping his heart as he watches you fuck him all better.

[thezombieprostitute]

Cops and Robbers

A/N: This is entirely unlike anything I've written before. This is written for @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar. I'm using the following prompts:

🍧Black Cherry: enemies to lovers – a dark flavour has a sweet tang. So your characters go from one extreme to the other, hate to love.  🍧Rocky Road: rags to riches – it's been a long road. Cinderella, a lottery winner, a sudden inheritance. You decide how your character gets their windfall.  🍧French Vanilla: stranded/locked in - vanilla, but make it fancy. Forced proximity to the max. Whether your characters have to work together to escape or survive, or just need to wait out the night, they’re stuck together.  🥄Toasted Almonds: heartbreak – your character is going through a heartbreak 

Word Count: ~3k (I think this is the longest one-shot I've ever written!)

A/N2: Character is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Corruption, Implied murder, Mild violence, Talk of sex trafficking, Theft. Please let me know if I missed any!

You know you shouldn't be here. You're a wanted woman in this county. Wanted by law enforcement and the people who buy law enforcement. It's dangerous to be here. But you can't bring yourself to stay away. Your great-aunt Mabel was the only person who ever loved and supported you. Attending her funeral is the least you can do for her. Even if you're watching from afar, sticking to the tree line, well away from the grave-site.

Everything was paid for by you. Again, it was the least you could do. But you couldn't trust the funeral home to not let the authorities know it was you. If you're lucky, they'll think you gave them the money and ran. But luck is not reliable so you're staying amongst the trees, finally letting yourself cry at the loss.

That's how you missed the Sheriff sneaking up on you. That and his surprisingly light steps. For a man his size, he sure as hell knew how to watch his steps.

He places a hand on your shoulder, startling you. “Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to come with me.”

“Is this official or off the books?” If he was doing this for the criminals he'd been bought by, you'd risk running off or getting shot. But official capacity work meant some legal protections.

“I'm arrestin' you under suspicion of robbery at the Governor's Mansion.” His hand squeezes your shoulder, a warning not to run. His tone was level, professional even. You nod your head and let him cuff you before getting to his car.

Inside the police station Lee walks you to a holding cell. Your existence has been a thorn in his side for years and he'd love nothing more than to lock you in jail and throw away the key. But you're also good press, which the local police need. That means he has to make sure you're not too roughed up. So if he has to play the gentleman for a while, he will.

At least when you were just stealing from Dunlap's crew he could tell them to fuck off. He's done a lot of bad things for them but hunting down someone who, in the public eye, had done nothing else wrong? It would look too suspicious, no matter how much they paid him.

Then you hit the Governor's place. Must've been one hell of a payday given the quality loot you picked up. That got him heat not just from Dunlap but from the damn Governor as well. You caused a lot of late nights, paperwork and black eyes.

He orders the closest deputy to get you processed then put you in the updated interrogation room. It had all the latest recording gadgetry and whatnot so it would reduce the likelihood of your testimony being dismissed because of some clerical error.

Getting to his desk he sits down and dials the Governor. He's not surprised when he gets the assistant instead. “Do me a favor, Darlin' and let Ol' Jim there know we got the thief. Just gotta get her processed and then I'll be gettin' a confession.”

When he finishes with that he dials up Dunlap. “I got the thief, but you an' yours gotta keep away until she's in lock up. Anything goes wrong with this and you're out a sheriff. Be patient and you'll get her but I gotta do a bunch o' shit by the book right now.” Lee hangs up before Dunlap can respond.

You're sitting in the cold, sterile interrogation room, handcuffed to the table. You're barely able to recognize yourself in the two-way mirror because of how puffy your eyes got from crying. The deputy assigned to process you tried to comfort you, thinking you were crying out of fear. You didn't bother to correct him. You're glad Aunt Mabel never saw you in custody.

The door opens and Bodecker walks in with a small stack of files. He sits across from you, leaning back, eye you up. You glance back at the door and he tells you, “ain't no use lookin' for a way out, darlin'. That door is locked from the outside. Only one of my men can let you outta here.” You nod your understanding.

“So, you gonna make this easy for me and go ahead and confess to the robbery of Governor James Williams?” You remain silent, fidgeting with your cuffs. “Figured as much,” he gripes as he opens one of the files. “We got your fingerprints on the doorknob. We got testimony that you were in the area. And you're the only one with the skills to break into that safe.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, Sheriff,” you reply. “What are these skills you think I have and what makes you think I have them?”

He gives you a glare, “we got reliable witnesses that say you're damn good with a lockpick.” Left unspoken is that those witnesses are Dunlap's crew. That you stole from them what they had stolen from others. That they couldn't report anything missing or stolen because then suspicion would be on them.

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Sheriff.” You're no fool. You know you're being recorded. You know their admissible evidence is circumstantial at best. Just keep calm. Keep denying.

“Alright,” Lee sighs as he stands, gathering up his files. “I'll just let you sit in here for a while longer and think these things through.” He walks over to the door and knocks twice. When it doesn't open right away, Lee turns towards the door and bangs on it a couple of times, not happy to me made to look like a fool. The peephole slides open and Lee is taken aback at the sight of Dunlap himself.

“Well ifn' it ain't the thief and the traitor,” Dunlap chuckles darkly. “And both trapped in here like the rats ya are. See, Bodecker, we've gone and sent all your boys home. Ain't nobody here what can open this door. We're gonna leave the two of you in here overnight and, come morning, one of you'll be dead. The other will have been recorded per the camera watchin' y'all and we'll be making copies to keep safe. So long as the survivor behaves.”

You quickly glance to Lee's belt and notice he isn't wearing his holster. No gun, you might have a chance.

“You sunnova bitch,” Bodecker bangs the door, hurting his fist. Dunlap laughs before closing the slider.

Lee sits back down, slamming the files down. “Shoulda known you'd get me in trouble like this. You ain't been nothin' but trouble since you started hittin' their properties.”

“I'm surprised you're not already choking me to death,” you reply coldly. “You've been in their pocket for so long, I figured there was nothing you wouldn't do for them.”

“I have my limits, little missy,” he retorts.

“Yeah, limits that keep you looking good to the public.”

“Limits that help good people keep doing good things,” he argues. “Your Aunt Mabel was one of them good people.”

“Don't you talk about her!” Your outburst is just as surprising to you as it is to him.

Lee sees his advantage and presses, “do you know how many times I had to keep them Dunlap boys from takin' her hostage so they could get to you? Your great-aunt was a pillar in this community. The kind o' person who's disappearance would get everyone up in arms, and they still wanted to use her as bait to get you to stop stealin' from them. I was the only reason they didn't.”

You try not to cry in front of him. You're horrified at the thought that you put Aunt Mabel in danger. “I have no reason to believe you,” you snap at him. “You lie through your teeth all the time for them. Why wouldn't you do so now?”

“Because, as I said before, I got my limits.” He stands and puts his hands on the table, leaning right into your face. “And you're pushing all of 'em right now!”

You smack him so hard he has to sit back down. He'd been so distracted with being angry he hadn't noticed you'd picked your handcuffs with an earring you'd palmed during processing. You toss the handcuffs at him, “I've got my limits, too. I don't kill. Now let's see about finding another way out of here.”

“Good luck with that,” Lee seethes. “That two-way glass can't be broken by the chairs and the table is sealed to the floor. Safety precautions and all that.” You're out of your cuffs so he needs to be even more on guard.

“Such a defeatist attitude,” you chide.

“I'm bein' realistic here,” he counters. “That door can only be opened from outside. It's got electric seals or whatever. There ain't any way to break that mirror. And those are the only two ways outta here!”

“Oh just shut up a minute and let me think,” you yell at him.

The two of you glare at each other for a while before he takes a deep breath and throws his hands up. “Fine. We'll call it a truce until we're truly desperate.”

“Thanks.”

You stand up, rubbing your wrists, and start pacing your side of the small room. You never turn away from Lee, never let him fully out your sight. He might look like he's in a relaxed position but you're not one to underestimate him.

“I'm guessing we're not worried about spilling the beans,” you huff. “Otherwise you never would've admitted half the shit you just did while being recorded.”

“Dunlap's gonna keep the tapes. Ain't nothin' we can say that'll get us in more trouble than we're in already.”

“Do you want to know why I stole from everyone that I did?”

“Meh,” he shrugs. “Might help pass the time until we really snap.”

“I was stealing back the ID's and personal belongings from the girls they were trying to traffic.”

Lee freezes for a moment before looking at you, “what do you mean? They ain't doin' any human trafficking.”

“Oh like you didn't know,” you scoff. “You've been to Leon's Red Motel more than once.”

“Never allowed back there,” he shakes his head. “Only ever allowed to drink at the bar. Said they couldn't have the sheriff seen enterin' a whorehouse.”

“Bullshit, Bodecker. You knew it was whorehouse but you didn't think to ask how they got the girls to work there?”

“They told me it was just girls that was down on their luck, needed the money,” he says thoughtfully.

“Yeah, they were down on their luck because they'd been kidnapped. Their identities got stolen and used for fake ID's to sell to rich kids. Helping them escape was...easy enough. But they needed help getting home. They needed money and ID. So I stole from the people who stole everything from them.”

“Then why'd you hit the Governor's place? That's the part that never made no sense to me.”

“I'm genuinely surprised he called that in.” You stop your pacing and look at Lee. “That safe I hit was full of his own bribes from Dunlap and others like him. The cash he kept off the books and used when he didn't want to get audited. Largest payday I ever made.” Your tone softens, “got to help a lot of people and sent Aunt Mabel a check every month.”

“She said you'd promised to send her money from the new job you told her you got.”

“She didn't need to know it's source. Just needed the cash to know I was alive and doing well.”

“Funeral director said you'd paid everything in cash.”

“More difficult to trace, of course. Not too surprised he turned me in. He tried to overcharge for everything and I called him out on it.”

Lee chuckled at that, “he shoulda known better than to try that with a bitch like you.”

“Damn right,” you say with a half smile. “Aunt Mabel didn't raise me to get walked all over, no matter how distracted I am.” A tear runs down your cheek and you're unable to wipe it away before Lee sees.

“She was a good woman,” Lee nods.

Silence falls over the two of you. You're unsure of how much time has passed but the angry tension between you and Bodecker seems to have calmed a smidge.

“I'm gonna go ahead and examine this door, then the mirror,” you tell him. “Can I trust you not to attack me while I'm doing so?”

“I fully support you findin' a way outta here where neither of us has to die,” Lee informs you. “So I'll happily keep from attackin' you. I'll even let you cuff me to the table if'n you need, provided you promise to pick the lock for 'em to get me out again.”

You nod, “I'll consider it. For now, door.”

Lee nods and, as a sign of his intentions to not attack, moves himself so he's on the opposite side of the room as you.

You look the door over for almost an hour. You turn back to Lee, “what all do you have in your pockets? I've got an idea, but I need to know what I've got to work with.”

“Not much,” Lee admits. He pulls out a couple of pens, his wallet and badge.

“More than what I've got.” You look over everything and the plan starts forming. “You said that the door is electrically sealed, right?”

“Sumthin' like that. Never really learned the actual details,” he confesses.

“The fun thing about doors like this, they ain't as strong as they look. It's a heavy door, made from good material, but it's got weak spots.” You grab the unlocked cuffs and, between them and one of Bodecker's credit cards, you're able to work out some of the screws around the sliding peephole. You use some leverage with the handcuffs and are able open a small gap to the inner workings of the door itself. Not much, but it's a start.

“Holy shit,” you hear Lee mutter.

“Would you be willing to try to pry this open a bit more? Pretty sure you've got the stronger arms here.” You move out of Lee's way as he gets to work with the handcuffs.

Your theory proves true as he has a much easier time prying away a bit at a time. The material is still strong stuff, but with more of the door's interior exposed, the more you can mess with. The more you can mess with, the weaker you can make the whole thing.

“I gotta ask,” Lee grunts as he works at more of the seams. “How d'you know your meddling won't result in the whole thing locking up even worse? Like so that even with the code or whatever it can't open?”

“I don't,” you confess. “But it's not like we've got much choice if we want to stay alive.” He nods in agreement.

When there's finally room for you to work you grab one of the pens from the table. You work carefully to bring some wires out without dropping the pen. Several of them are bundled together and you get them just out of the door's interior, using the pen to keep them from falling back in.

“Now, the odds of this being the bundle we need aren't great,” you tell him.

“But it's what we've got to work with,” he finishes for you. “You want the pin side of my badge to try piercing or cuttin' 'em or do you wanna just try pulling them out?”

“Never thought you were one for pulling out, Sheriff,” you joke. His cheeks turn pink and you're quick to apologize. “I'm nervous so I'm making bad jokes. Sorry.”

He nods in understanding. “How about I just go ahead and pull?”

You step out of his way, hand never leaving the pen so the wires don't drop back in. Lee nimbly grabs the wires with a couple of fingers, all that he can get to fit around them in the small space, and yanks them with all his strength. He doesn't have a lot to work with but the more he pulls, the more give he's getting.

“Try angling your pull,” you tell him. “Pull away from the sides, not just straight up. I think we'll be able to unplug them.”

Lee nods and tries out your strategy. It takes some work but after a bit the two of you hear a small snap and bundle of wires, including their plug, come out. At the same time, you both hear subtle click of the lock.

“That's progress,” you tell him.

“The door ain't openin',” Lee states.

“Not while the latch is still in place,” you concede. “But without that electric seal or whatever, we can bash a chair against where the handle is and break off the latch.”

“And by 'we' you mean 'me' I'm guessin'?”

“Well, you are the big strong Sheriff, right?”

You smile as he huffs, “I'll get to work.”

It takes a while, and several breaks, but eventually the two of you do break the latch and get the door opened. Considering no one yelled or inquired about the loud banging on the door, you both figured no one was around. You were still wary, though. Better safe than dead.

Lee leads you both to his office and he quickly grabs his keys before opening up the door next to the interrogation room. He grabs the camera and smashes the whole thing to pieces.

“No one's gonna get to hear what we talked about,” he mutters.

“So, now what happens? Are you going just going to let a wanted criminal go?”

Lee sighs, “whether you leave or stay, I ain't got much of a life here anymore. Between Dunlap's gang and knowing the Gov is in on it all? I'm a dead man if I don't leave the state.”

“Well, Bodecker, I guess it's a good thing I've got experience helping people escape bad situations.”

“I know we didn't start off on the best foot,” Lee rubs the back of his head nervously, “but I would appreciate the help.”

“Least I can do for your protecting Aunt Mabel. Now let's get the hell outta here.”

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @fluxxdog; @ronearoundblindly

[chewyjellycable]

Guys I'm thinking about Shadow Milk again. Unlike this post, I'm going to go into a lot of off-the-wall theories with little to no explanation other than it sounds cool as Hell.

Shadow Milk pre-deceit must have held so much weight on his shoulders. To be the sole wielder of knowledge, he'd know the strengths of lying to others more than anyone else. And since he's the holder of it, no one would question him if he lied on purpose. (This point is used against PV in the future.)

Bringing something specific that I find fascinating- it's SM's connection to the Dark Side of the Moon. This means that he has a connection to Dark Moon Magic. For those who don't know or need a refresher, Dark Moon Magic is something that both White Lily and Pure Vanilla have delved into before.

My theory is that something related to this forbidden form of magic messed with a pre-corrupt SM's head and aided in molding him into a beast of deceit. Perhaps it showed him truths that he was not prepared to see? Maybe it scrambled up what the truth really was by making him a paranoid mess from the overwhelming power? In any case, I have a feeling that this is one of the reasons for what happened to the Beasts- but particularly SM, since we don't know enough about the others to deduce much. (Though I personally like to believe that SM was shown something of his friends suffering like some form of prediction and went on to look further into Dark Moon Magic in order to find a way to prevent this.)

Bringing back the connection to Pure Vanilla, SM actively attempts to get in his head. I feel like this is because SM himself had to deal with that nagging sensation before and after his corruption due to Dark Moon Magic, and thusly knows how to do such properly. He wants to drag PV into the same thing that he was dragged into, wanting his forced successor to suffer with some kind of poetic justice. Another connection between the two is PV was the first of his friends to reawaken, just as SM was the first beast to escape the tree.

Side note, I just wish to bring up that one of PV's nightmarish images he had to endure was the ancients being strung up similar to how he and his friends were strung up towards the end of Beast Yeast. I made this connection while doing research on PV's end of things and it stuck with me.

TL;DR - Thinking about Shadow Milk's past and how it could parallel Pure Vanilla is super fun to think about. SM having some relation to Dark Moon Magic and how haunting that magic seems to be for those that research it- how it leads to so much misfortune- makes me think that it had something to do with SM's corruption. Thank you for coming to my TEd Talk

[theharrowing]

Rose-Tinted Obsessions

Taehyung is ruthless when it comes to his desires; nobody knows this better than Yoongi.

This is a lesson you learn the hard way.

🍒 Taehyung x Female Reader x Yoongi

🍒 fics in this series: Boy Blue, White Lies

🍒 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊, yandere, college au, cop au, strangers to lovers & established relationship, partial text message & social media aus with a lot of written story, obsessive & possessive behavior, hurt/comfort, major character injury & death, non-con, graphic violence, slow burn, slash, poly, smut, angst, some fluff, nsfw, 21+ | see individual fics for more warnings.

🍒 note: the mc in Boy Blue and the mc in White Lies are not the same person; these are two different stories told within the same universe. the hands in the banner are meant to represent Yoongi.

Boy Blue

While going through a painful but necessary breakup, you meet someone who is patient, kind, and understanding; everything your last ex was not.

Or is he?

💙 Taehyung x Female Reader + Yoongi x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Original Female Character x Taehyung x Reader, Taehyung x Yoongi, Namjoon x Reader (kind of), Hoseok x Reader, MxM ships

💙 word count: 89k + a lot of images of text conversations

💙 college au, partial text message au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slow burn, slash, poly, major character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+

💙 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊, angst (hurt/comfort, breaking up and moving on, infidelity) yandere (possessiveness, gaslighting, lying, stalking, physical abuse, major & minor character injury and death, gore, blood, torture, dubcon, consent turned non-consenting with date rape drugs being used, trauma response, PTSD, mc is very young and naïve), explicit sexual content (vanilla to rough, daddy kink, breath play/choking, threesomes, oral sex, sex toy, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, first time with same sex person, sex while drunk, dubious consent, sex with gun to head, degrading language - use of slut), fluff, unresolved/cliffhanger ending.

💙 note: heed every warning, read individual chapter warnings, and only interact with this content if you are absolutely certain you feel safe to. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction. this fic is extremely contrived and dramatic. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. the hand in the banner is meant to represent Yoongi. i want to stress that the mc in this fic does not have a lot of relationship experience, nor does she have close family or many friends to depend on. she is an easy target. also! although time stamps are part of the story, sometimes there are going to be time discrepancies on the text messages bc this is very tedious and mistakes happen. pretend you do not notice lol. 

💙 posted oct. 2021 - dec. 2021 & aug. 2022

💙 read on tumblr or read on ao3

White Lies

Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.

You need to have them, at all costs.

🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung

🤍 word count: work in progress + images of social media posts & text conversations

🤍college au, cop au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.

🤍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊. toxic relationships (dishonesty, jealousy, yandere behavior); ACAB includes our MC, sorry you found out this way; corrupt policing. more specific warnings coming soon, pending the release of each chapter.

🤍 note: for the sake of simplicity & also my sanity, all dialogue that is written and spoken is going to be in English. characters are from Korea and living/working in the US, and we can fill in the gaps between what language they are speaking in which context. this fic is going to be extremely contrived and dramatic, just like its predecessor was. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction.

🤍 coming soon!

🤍 read on tumblr! ao3 links coming soon!

Rose-Tinted Obsessions, Boy Blue, & White Lies copyright 2021-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations are allowed!

[dedfly]

Sorry, I renting your pure man for a bit

I just needed to show my idea what Shadow Milk cookie before corruption sooooo closed mentally, such a hothouse flower. Afraid of himself, his strength and what he can do. And in general he only thinks about what the witches will think. In short, he thinks too much and burdens himself. Therefore, Shadow Milk Cookie what we know so unhinged. Bottled up emotions am I right? People pleaser finally exploded.

I honestly can get on and on about my speculation about this not expired milk. I need him in game right now

Because I just making him my oc at this point

I hope even before corruption he is quite theatrical so please devisisters hint about him more pleeeaaaseee

I can't take it anymore

I swear if he is going to be Pure Vanilla 2.0

[composeregg]

wanted to join in on that meta post by saying yeah, even if we view joker’s and akechi’s relationship as special compared to the others, akechi is still written under the constraints of p5, and an antagonist to boot. like. vanilla had his confidant as automatic bc (iirc) they thought they couldn’t fit it in properly! which is crazy, even tho the automatic rank ups have an interesting implication (such as, akechi will always be rank 10 by the end no matter what you do). i understand that ppl probably wanted someone to talk sense into the thieves for their unwittingly callous actions, but not by the guy who decided to go thru with his 11/20 plan lol

(this post)

YEAH like, I love Akechi. I adore him. But I have SO many OPINIONS about this mans. like. I'm not going berate anyone for how they write characters, that's the freedom of fandom, but I am going to stand over here with my opinions and contrary thoughts and chitchat about them in my space

I know that very often it is because people want someone to refute what canon has shown us (because canon's writing disagrees with it's desired goals as mentioned in that post). They want someone to go "Look at Joker, look at what's happened to him, don't you care? How risky this was?"

But okay I'm actually going to back up a bit!

(this got long)

What other choice was there for 11/20?

Because the answer is not "they could have taken Akechi in a fight."

The goals of the interrogation room/metaverse plan:

Escape with Joker alive

Trick Shido and the conspiracy into believing Joker has died

and you know? you know? you cannot do that latter bullet point if you just beat up Akechi

So enlighten me. How, exactly, were the thieves supposed to come up with a different plan in under 20 days? One where Joker would live, where the conspiracy would believe he had died, and importantly, one that at that point in time cannot count on Akechi being a turncoat. They have no reason to trust that he would

"Don't you care about how risky this was? There had to have been other ways."

We don't get Shido's name as Akechi's employer here until after the phonecall reporting the death, I believe. They cannot change Shido's heart in time to avert this because they do not have the information. The interrogation room plan, genuinely, was one of the smartest ideas they had. It accomplished exactly what they needed to. These are teens in a life-or-death situation, who notoriously have MANY trust issues with adults for good reason, especially since society is so corrupt that a hitman can easily walk into a police department and assassinate a high-profile criminal and get away with it with help (remember the guard at the door?) The other options are basically "change your identity and flee the country" or "literally actually die" lets be real here!

SO

Akechi, let's be honest with ourselves here, would primarily be pissed off that the thieves got one over on him! And if he is concerned about the lasting trauma of it all, or how risky the plan was, he is seeing this and approaching it from the angle of knowing it worked.

(Better options for sense-talking: Sojiro! Sojiro is right there! Takemi! Iwai! Kawakami! Yoshida! All important responsible adult figures to Joker and at least some of the thieves.)

In my opinion if Akechi wants to snark at the thieves about the plan in any way regarding how much it fucks up Joker and how it was risky, they are more than allowed to fire back shots at him for making it necessary and shooting Joker in the head in the first place.

I think people often use it as a shorthand, to show that Akechi cares about Joker, but also as a way to emphasize the importance of Akechi to Joker (compared to the rest of the thieves). It's easier to ignore the fact that he killed two of the thieves's parents when it comes to Joker being in a relationship with him, as long as it can be shown that he's the one that really cares. That he wouldn't put Joker through something so fucked up with his care (hilarious, laughable, he shot Joker in the head). It separates "Akechi and Joker" from all the phantom thieves in a way.

(Honestly sometimes it feels like ship bashing/character bashing but for ALL the phantom thieves with how intensely some people write it! beyond even the point of exploring Atlus fucking up characterization to pretend to have a blank slate silent protag)

BUT like I said in the post, it also points out a major flaw with convincing players that the rest of the thieves DO care in the game. Because the thieves are never really given a chance to show that. It's implied, and it's clear the game wants you to believe they care, but we don't get scenes addressing specific stuff like this enough.

Joker is confident, and cocky, we see that with that bastard smile in the interrogation room after getting "shot" in those cutscenes. It is genuinely a plan to be proud of, and it hails back to his original persona being Arsène. Arsène, who escaped from prison simply by disguising himself and pretending he had already escaped and put a body double in his place. Arsène, who pulled off a robbery while in jail. Arrogant and self-assured and cocky, the interrogation room plan is genuinely something the likes that would be worthy of Arsène's name.

He can be proud of the plan, and also traumatized by it. But he actively agreed to this plan, probably helped come up with it (where does everyone get the idea that it was Makoto's plan? genuine question). Joker is not a hapless victim of other's whims, he also had agency. So many of the parallels between Joker and Akechi are how they exercise what agency they have while being stripped of traditional power and victimized by society.

Honestly? Honestly? In my personal opinion, having Akechi berate the thieves for the plan is disrespectful to his rivalry with Joker, along with his own characterization.

He holds Joker as his equal. Equal in agency, in skill. If he looks at Joker and says, "why would you go along with such a foolish plan?" if he looks at the thieves and says "why would you ever put your precious leader through this?" he is taking away Joker's agency and choices. One of Akechi's focal points is agency. If he sees Joker as equal in this, and he denies Joker his agency, he is also taking it away from himself.

Akechi's cocktail of emotions regarding the assassination can manifest in so many different ways, and he can translate that to anger at the thieves rather than himself for putting Joker through that, but that would be his emotions regarding himself being misdirected more than anything.

Akechi has too much respect for Joker to deny Joker his agency in a plan that was good enough to fool him.

Respecting agency and admiring a brilliantly crafted plan also doesn't mean ignoring trauma that ocurred from actions taken under duress.

(At least, it doesn't mean that as long as you're not Atlus)

[cookierunauprompts]

I Just Getting Idea About The Prompts.

What if Was Ancient Cookies Are Swapped With Beast's Cookies :3

Ooooh, so a Role-swap AU? Sounds pretty neat!

Requested Prompts #12 - ✦

Less of a story prompt and more of an AU prompt in general where I explain to the best of my ability of what I think the AU would be like. Also note that the soul jams don't really align with the roles in this au.

First off, we're starting with the Former Beast Cookies( Aka Shadow Milk and co.) First off, is Shadow Milk Cookie, ruler of the faerie kingdom(takes place of the vanilla kingdom here). A Trickster at heart but he is willing to help when needed. He's a... semi-responsible king, he's more of an actor than royalty... Or should I say a clown? Next up, Burning Spice Cookie in Hollyberry Cookie's role!- I... Don't have much for this guy, which is unfortunate. But, for what I do have, the Spice Kingdom is a Kingdom of brave warriors, and there's a lot of dragons as well... That's all I have, moving on then! Next up, we have Silent Salt as the ruler of the Salt Kingdom(Cacao Kingdom)! The land is embedded in an eternal winter with salt as snow, the king having grand strength and few words to share. But when the king does speak, it's almost always meaningful in some way. After that, Eternal Sugar as the ruler of the (unnamed replacement kingdom for the golden cheese kingdom because i couldn't think of one). The reason I have Eternal Sugar in Golden Cheese Cookie's role here is because well, Goddess of eternal Gold? Eternal Sugar? I just made that connection and ran with it. And finally, we have Mystic Flour, taking on the role of White Lily cookie... And eventually Dark Enchantress as well. But DE is called Dark Priestess Cookie instead. The reason I have Mystic Flour cast as White Lily is because I have a feeling that the two are rather similar. Also, fun fact but in this au Mystic Flour is not the first to seek the truth behind why they, the cookies, were created.

And now, onto the corrupted ancients... Or rather just Pure Vanilla Cookie. Pure Vanilla takes upon the attribute of deceit, but not because he deceives most other cookies, he doesn't tend to do that. Rather, he deceives himself... and his friends. He watched them turn to madness, all after a single, horrid truth found out by White Lily Cookie had been told to them. After all, if cookies were meant to be eaten, then why not spare them from such a terrible fate by ending their lives before they could be eaten? He deceives himself, thinking that the good within his friends had not yet vanished. And he deceives them, by keeping them sealed away under the guise that the Witches had done it. He doesn't speak in fear of his deceit being revealed, and may be the only one of them that isn't too warped to feel guilt over what they had done anymore. As for the others? Well, I can't assign them roles for certain. But I'll let you know that they've all committed atrocities.

[badsweetangel]

Attention (Griffith x Guts x Judeau x Reader)

Don't look at me like that, I know you were thinking it.

Summary: You think everyone feels sorry for you because Griffith doesn't pay much attention to you. Griffith notices your discomfort and decides to give you the attention you need and he can't do it alone.

Warnings: 4000 words in total, the plot is divided into 2, the first part is plot and the second is smut, smut with plot, gang bang, cream pie, angry sex, masturbation, overstimulation, corruption (if you squint), double penetration, oral sex (both receiving and giving), power play, sub!fem!reader, voyeurism (we all know who's watching), fingering, some spankings, light vanilla.

1.

Griffith was absolutely charming. You always watched him from afar as he spoke with his enveloping voice and charismatic smile. You watched him mesmerized, noticing each of his movements and facial gestures. In fact, you were completely sure that you knew them by heart and that you were not at all sorry about it.

Yours was almost an open secret, as you were not really subtle about the emotions and passion that he aroused in your being. Everyone knew that you had a thing for the leader of the Band of the Hawk, some might look at you contemptuously and suggest that you were obsessed. Craving him, his attention and any comment he might say that could be misinterpreted in your favor. Anyway, they weren't wrong, you were completely wrapped around Griffith's finger, he could always do whatever he wanted with you. There were never any limits for him. You always let him do to you, suggest to you and tell you whatever he wanted without any kind of limitations.

Although you always wished he had taken more advantage of his power over you.

He never did.

It was disappointing.

He never gave you the attention you expected. Not to you or Casca. You could see her in the distance failing in her attempts to be seen differently by Griffith. It was pathetic. Pathetic for both of you. Enchanted with a man whose gaze was directed somewhere else, somewhere higher, one at their level… at the level of Princess Charlotte's eyes.

He was a conquering man, he always knew what to say, what things to give and even how to seduce. He seemed to have it all, he seemed to take advantage of everyone, he used everyone for his own benefit and he hid it with a refreshing and unforgettable personality. You knew it. You didn't understand how you knew it. But still, you wanted it. You wanted to have it. You wanted him to take advantage of you, to say nice and dirty words to you, to have his eyes directed at you with the minimum of attention. You would be happy.

Maybe that would stop the tickling in your crotch.

But he had plans and dreams.

And then, there was Guts and Judeau. They had become extremely close in such a short time and you could swear that Judeau already knew all of your intentions. He was a shrewd and observant man. He knew everything, everything about your adorable little crush. However, he never said anything, except today. Today the two of them decided that they would make your life a little bit harder by telling you the truth.

“You know he’s just not interested,” Guts said, shrugging.

You watched as Judeau glared at him, perhaps thinking that the way he told you was not right. He stayed like that for a few seconds and then turned his eyes to you. The two of you looked at each other in silence, not saying anything at all, but sharing a special moment. At least that was how you felt. You had never noticed his compassionate and sweet gaze, all of that combined with his natural beauty and battle skills. It was amazing you hadn't seen such qualities.

“He has other plans,” Judeau corrected. “No one's fault.”

Guts grimaced, imperceptible, but you noticed. He had a harsher way of saying things, but he silenced himself because he knew Judeau was better at these kinds of emotional situations than he was. I trust his judgment.

No one said anything else.

They shared a thoughtful silence, as if they were analyzing you, remembering all those times when Griffith seemed not to notice you. Recognizing the power Griffith had, above all the members of the Band of the Hawk. It was impossible not to realize that your feelings for him were just a pitiful extension of a much larger and clearer truth: you belonged to him exactly like all of them. To Griffith, you were property like any other.

Perhaps Judeau could feel a little sorry for you.

However, you understood.

You understood how things worked.

And Griffith could notice it. He noticed that you were no longer staring at him dreamily like always. It was strange for you. He wondered what could have happened. The moment he thought about it, he smiled to himself, you had managed to make him think carefully about you about something other than just the battle. That was certainly a great advance for you, one that you would have enjoyed on some other occasion if he decided to tell you to see your reaction.

“Come here” Griffith ordered you as you walked past him without looking at him.

The order sent shivers down your spine. It was still having an effect on you. You cursed him in your mind.

However, in the blink of an eye you were in front of him. And you were nervous. Because he only analyzed you with his gaze and didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and there you were. Waiting. Being a part of his whims.

As it has always been.

“Have I bothered you?” You decided to timidly break the silence with a question.

He smiled. He was making fun of you.

“You have never bothered me” He answered, feigning innocence, watching each of your reactions carefully.

You were strong, you couldn’t deny it. You tried not to let your little breakdown be noticed. The longing for his touch returned, those unexplored lips and his skin caressing yours. The dirtiest of fantasies.

“You have been acting different” He declares, this time much more seriously. “Have I bothered you?” He asks you, his tone more playful as he copied your question from earlier.

“You’ve never bothered me” You answered quickly, without being aware, as if an inner voice had spoken for you, without realizing that you had also accidentally copied his answer.

He tilted his head in confusion. He wanted an explanation. Now. He was getting impatient. And you wanted so badly to please him, to clarify whatever had been going through his mind.

“You know what’s going on” You looked at the floor, embarrassed.

Two fingers took your chin and forced you to look at him, it was a soft demand, but it was still a demand. He was still Griffith, your leader, your owner. The person who could do whatever he wanted with you, both with and without your permission.

“You’re important to me” He confessed, getting closer to you, increasing your desires for him even more.

“Not as I would like.” This time, you opened up, bringing out your emotions from the depths of your heart. “Everyone here looks at me with pity.”

Confusion took over his face, he didn’t see anyone looking at you that way. Although if he were honest, he wasn’t aware of that, so he couldn’t simply deny your vision of things.

“Who?” He asked seriously, squeezing your chin harder, revealing a much more severe demand.

“Everyone,” you confessed. “Even Judeau and Guts made me see the other day that you would never look at me that way,” you confessed, without giving too many details.

He hummed as a sign that he understood. He let go of you, without saying anything else. The last look he gave you was one that ran from your head to your feet, giving you more than one shiver. He liked attention, knowing that there were people who longed for it, that didn’t have to change. He understood that you just lacked attention.

A lot of attention. And he would give it to you. He would make you feel that you weren’t exactly being looked at with pity.

“We’re done for now,” he determined.

And with shame, you left.

2.

The day Griffith called you to his tent at night was terrifying. You didn’t know what he wanted. He just demanded. He just asked and asked. And he had a knack for everyone saying yes to him, it was always like that. So, you were scared of what he could want from you this late at night. The moment you walked in, your body froze. There were the three of them: Griffith, Guts and Judeau. You thought they were going to talk about your topic, your little crush. It was embarrassing.

You could see their faces: Griffith just smirked at you, Judeau looked calm and intrigued and Guts… wasn’t very happy.

“What is this?” You asked without understanding anything at all.

“This… is my apology” Griffith answered you, laughing, he was making fun of you once again.

“What?” You snapped, unable to control your annoyance.

You understood. Of course you did. Maybe this was their way of keeping you from leaving. Making you feel like you weren't exactly being looked at with pity. It was much more than that. Of course you understood, you understood Griffith's mind perfectly, how it worked. What he was capable of. Although you didn't understand how he had convinced Guts and Judeau of this. Maybe, deep down, they wanted to make you feel like you weren't despised. You didn't know. But you could see from Guts's gaze that he was contradicting himself.

But he seemed to want to comply with Griffith's strange suggestion.

Embarrassedly, you moved closer to them. This was strange, unthinkable and absolutely disconcerting. However, your body trembled with emotion, although you tried to hide it so as not to feel Guts's gaze judging you. Still, even though you tried to ignore it, you felt it, you felt his eyes on you, reflecting annoyance and anger, and desire. You could experience it in your body, quite sensitive to his reactions. And you didn't want to do anything else, because you didn't know what to do.

You weren't sure if anyone really knew.

From the uncomfortable faces you could understand that, in fact, no one knew how to start.

Griffith just lets out a jovial, mocking laugh. He approaches you and slowly takes off your clothes, leaving them forgotten somewhere in the war tent. You were naked in front of those three men, you felt small, fragile and weak. When you weren't. You weren't inherently a delicate girl, you were strong. But that's how the three of them together in that same place made you feel, looking at your body, thinking about who knows what. You would have mentally beaten yourself, if you didn't have that growing tingle in your crotch, if you realized that this wasn't the image you wanted to give when you fought for a reputation as a warrior, but you weren't thinking. Not with those looks, those contradictory eyes along with Griffith's amused expression.

Desire and pleasure were ungrateful, absolutely oblivious to the boundaries they've created for themselves, at least that's how the two men of the Band of the Hawk felt as they struggled with their erections at the sight of you. They weren't supposed to ever treat you like this. But Griffith had convinced them well.

Next was Judeau, he wanted to make you feel good, that was the truth. Even though he didn't have much experience in this kind of carnal pleasures, he felt that perhaps it was the only real chance to make you experience the feeling that you were desired and not looked at with pity as you thought. A hand rested on your shoulder, asking you to lie down silently, with his smile always gentle. You complied, you were tense, considering his eyes roaming over you as desire slowly took over them and with it, common sense. Judeau went down on you, positioning himself between your parted legs, acting almost intuitively, rubbing his fingers on your pussy, sending a strong tremor through your body, while instinctively the feeling of pleasure began to form in your lower stomach, being particularly desperate, wanting more and more. The moment you saw Griffith sitting down to watch, watch you, you closed your eyes. Feeling your cheeks heat up, a noticeable reddish color predominating on your face. And you completely lost all control of the situation, of your body and of your shame the second Judeau's tongue touched your parts. He was inexperienced, slow at first, looking for the point that would make you moan. That was what he wanted. To hear you moan, satisfying his curiosity to hear a woman moan for him.

Yes, the dirtiest of fantasies.

He was patient and he knew that a patient man always fulfilled his purposes, that's how it felt when his tongue touched that sweet spot in you that made you cover your mouth not wanting anyone else who was nearby to hear you. He had gotten too excited and so were you, because when he inserted two fingers in your entrance and sucked on your folds you forgot about the others and were able to open your eyes. Feeling free, without thinking about any consequences. Completely shameless with the possessive look Griffith had on the two of you, wanting Guts to do something too.

But in Guts's gaze, there was displeasure, displeasure of his body's reactions. He didn't feel too good about wanting to touch you and wanting to have you in his arms at least once. Besides, Griffith was also showing his superiority complex. However, the reflections stopped when you moaned his name while Judeau gave you the first pleasure of the night, perhaps unforgettable throughout your life, that shameless action of yours, touched a nerve in him. And everything mixed together: hatred, pleasure and loss of control. He went to you and roughly took your shoulders and made you sit down, meanwhile Judeau looked at him expectantly and immediately understood when without any gentleness in his touch Guts turned you over, making you lie face down. He manipulated your body at will, forcing you to stay in the four-way position, which could be degrading if it weren't for how soaked you were. Your body trembled as you tried to get enough strength to support yourself on all your limbs and you stopped caring about your lack of physical strength when Guts roughly grabbed your chin, making you look at him, squeezing with a controlled but still hard enough force so that you understood his order.

“Open your mouth” Guts ordered you, without looking you in the eyes. “Before I regret it”

You looked at Griffith for a moment who just nodded his head, urging you to obey what you were told. Didn't you want attention? Well now it was the most attention you could receive from him and it gave him a pleasurable feeling to understand that you liked being treated like that too.

You opened your mouth and immediately Guts' penis entered your mouth, keeping a relentless and fast pace. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling it hard, making you feel the pain in your head, which you clearly ignored when you felt Judeau's tongue in your folds again, separating your ass with the help of his fingers and keeping you there.

Guts looked up, closed his eyes and quickly sought his release without thinking that tears were forming in your eyes as you choked on his cock. However, no one cared, you were accepting what was given to you.

And then there was Griffith, whose gaze had mostly never left you, with minor exceptions where he looked at Guts. But he was generally keeping his attention on you. It was the greatest achievement you had ever made on him, as his mind was fixed on you, fixated on your moans and your rolling eyes. He was in awe, holding all of his attention. What you wanted most. Everyone in his tent belonged to him, that was something everyone knew. Thanks to that he was able to make this situation possible. But you, you were different. A different girl. He couldn’t have done this with Casca, much less Charlotte. You were the dirty girl, his dirty girl. His alone. Even though others gave you pleasure.

He groped his crotch, feeling his erection, one that exacerbated his desire so much that he couldn’t even remember any other time when he felt so aroused and pleased with himself and his ideas. He had no shame. He never had. Showing off your body to him was never a problem and it was even less so when his hands circled around his girth and he masturbated at the sight of the image you were giving him. He wasn't gentle with himself, he was quite hard, even though he didn't plan on cumming yet. Not yet. Still in his state of pleasure and therefore fragility, he managed to make a demand when he saw that both Guts and you were close to cumming.

“No, not yet” Griffith came out, not feeling disturbed by the pleasure that was running through his body.

Guts pushed you away from his cock brutally with the help of your hair, saliva falling down your lips while your face was already completely fucked. Judeau rubbed your folds at a hurried pace, being able to feel that you were already about to cum. Following the rhythm of your moans, you came hard while he licked your fluids desperately, completely proud of himself.

“You did really well” Judeau praised as he licked his lips and gently caressed your back. “You are perfect”

You let yourself fall, your breathing was fast, your skin was sweaty and your pulse was racing. But this was not over yet at all. You knew it, they had not cum. That was your job. Without having help from anyone, you sat up as nimbly as you could, ignoring your shaking limbs. You were crouched in front of the two, looking up. Their eyes full of desire, deciding what to do with you next. You didn't know that the power they also had over you would make you shudder so much. While they were deciding…

“I'll start” Griffith decided, as he stood up from his seat, making the other two take a step back. “Lay down”

You quickly followed his order, he placed himself on top of you, inserting his penis into your entrance. Starting to move slowly, with a softness that contrasted Guts' hardness was excellent. He wanted to take his time to see your gestures, feel your moans in his ear and feel the warmth of your skin on his.

No, this fantasy could never be fulfilled with anyone else.

The dirtiest of fantasies, the one that only a dirty girl could fulfill.

Someone like you. Despite his slow pace, he took out his frustrations on you, trying to forget everything that ever made him doubt himself and all the situations in which he was afraid. No, now he was only focusing on the feeling of his body. He smiled to himself when your eyes closed giving the wonderful image of pleasure and pain. However, wanting more of him both physically and mentally. Lazily touching your sweet spot while he thrust at a calm pace, but you couldn't blame him, it was the only thing you could bear given your state.

But the compassion would soon go away.

The pain and pleasure mixed in your core, and it became addictive, addictive every time. For you just wanted to have Griffith inside you, to possess you completely, as he increased the pace of his thrusts and your moans mixed from both emotions resonated in his ear.

“You like the attention, don’t you?” Griffith asked, teasing you once again. “You’re mine and you’ll never leave my side, unless I say so” He whispered in your ear.

You rested your head, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the pleasure, feeling the desperate feeling in your lower stomach again, waiting for release once more. He manipulated and thrust at the same time with a much faster pace, being close to his own orgasm. He smiled pleased when you had your second orgasm of the night, seeing how you couldn’t think clearly and your body was limp. Guts and Judeau just watched the scene, completely shocked and embarrassed by their inexperience, yet despite the guilt they felt they couldn't help but love the way your breasts moved under their leader's thrusts, your own faces of pleasure and your completely receptive body. And they wanted more of you. It was strange, the pleasure had simply taken over them, as if they were wrapped up in your own body and Griffith's demands and ideas.

Griffith himself was cumming inside you, while breathing raggedly. It felt like all the problems that were arising were gone with his orgasm. He saw how his semen was coming out and felt a wave of possessiveness run through his body. Maybe you could belong to him this way from now on, at least until he gets his plans. He quickly turned you around thanks to the flaccidity of your body and gave you a rather humiliating spank on the ass before getting up and returning to his seat.

“Your turn,” Griffith said simply, as he continued to watch.

Actually, Judeau was a little worried about your state. However, when your gazes met, he could feel that the same thing had happened the other day, that day he told you that Griffith had other plans, he could get confused about you, praising your qualities while trying to comfort you. Your eyes told him to go fuck you. Deep down, you wanted him too. He still felt nervous, like corrupted, but your eyes seemed to control him.

Guts simply shook his head, he didn’t want to do this, not at all. He hated you right now. He usually liked you, he was close to you. Now he hated the way you controlled him with something as low as carnal passion, the way he wanted to fuck your ass so hard until you passed out. And he didn’t know how to explain it to himself.

He cursed Griffith too.

But he followed Judeau, creating a nice contrast between the two of you. Judeau, on the other hand, lifted you up, preventing you from falling, he held you by your waist, giving you a rather tender smile. He approached you and kissed you, giving you the first glimpse of sweetness in the night, you smiled unconsciously, he held you by the waist and he himself lay down, helping you to ride him, on top of him. Just as you should be. Someone had to think about you and your pleasure sometime.

“Come on, you can do it” Judeau urged you, keeping his hands on your waist.

You wanted to please him, you really did. So, you stuck your cock in your pussy without any difficulty. It was absolutely dirty…the smell, the fluids and the sweat. And how no one cared about anything. You started to move, feeling the overstimulation, but again, not caring about anything. This time, you felt much more pain, but because of the increasing pleasure, you continued.

However, much harder hands made you stop, they pushed you strongly towards Judeau's chest, making him keep his hands fixed on your waist. Guts inserted his penis in the only hole left. You held your breath, feeling how he tried to lubricate with saliva and then, without asking your permission, he simply began to penetrate. It was rough and completely wild. Judeau, however, being completely true to his personality, gently rammed you, but not out of compassion like Griffith, but because there was romance. There was a touch of romance there.

“Come on, you're a good girl,” Judeau praised you, causing a spiral to form in your stomach again, longing to be released, while you enjoyed his thrusts into your pussy.

Guts didn't say anything, he didn't care about that, about the situation you were in. He was destroying you, he was upset, upset that he was wanting you so much. His hands gripped your ass and he spanked you every now and then making your ass red.

Griffith smiled to himself. It had been a good show, he had almost felt his power gushing up his spine again. A sickening taste, the way you moaned and your bodily fluids mixed.

When they both came inside you, Guts simply pulled out of you and looked at you annoyed. He saw the work he had done on your ass and walked out of Griffith's tent without saying anything. You simply stayed in Judeau's arms, being pampered by him silently.

Griffith, he was pleased with you. Yes, maybe when he told Judeau to leave he could enjoy you a little more.

The dirtiest of fantasies.

[delopsia]

Something Unholy | Rhett Abbot x Reader

Word Count: 3,600 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, Fem!Reader, unprotected sex in a church, mild size-kink, and a dash of Rhett having a corruption kink and getting off on the idea of cumming inside you.

"I sure hope you ain't tellin' me what to do, dollface."

Oh, the things you would give to wrap both your hands around this motherfuckers thick neck and—

"—Can you please, just put the paper towels on the shelf?" Speaking in the firmest tone you can muster, cheeks flaming so hot you fear they may turn cherry red.

"And why does this have to involve me?" God, Rhett just keeps going; the choir girls are starting to notice, casting wayward glances from under false lashes as they whisper amongst each other behind open palms.

"Because you're tall enough to reach the shelf, and I'm not," pushing the paper towels toward him once more, forcing him to take them, "and if God wanted me to put them up there, he would have made me taller, or he would have given me a stepping stool."

For the first time all morning, Rhett's quiet, and for as much as he's fussed about this, you'd think this momentous task would take him longer than three seconds to complete. You're starting to see why Cece doesn't drag him along to Sunday services more often.

He continues to loom in the corner, leaning up against the wall like some sort of hot shot whilst he just watches. Wild blue eyes follow your every movement as you finish setting up the coffee booth like he's getting some sort of enjoyment out of watching you mull about. Doesn't offer help, just watches.

Asshole.

As soon as you start to walk away, ready to settle into the corner of an old, stained church pew, he pushes off the wall and starts to walk too. Like a shadow, following each and every step until all of a sudden, you're sitting between the end of the bench and Rhett Abbott.

"Do you have to sit so close to me?" Grumbling, you try to scoot further off, but there's not enough space for you to do so.

Rhett's jeaned thigh presses harder against your own, "yes, I do, actually."

"You're an ass," it comes out louder than you intend to, but if anyone overhears, they don't mention it. Not yet, at least.

"Wow, swearing in church now, are we?" Smug.

You're still contemplating strangling him right here and now; an attempted murder charge sounds a lot better than sitting in this hell for an hour and a half. The bastard is probably into it, knowing his reputation. The only thing that actually stops you from finding out is the sudden booming voice from the podium, commanding all eyes and ears on him, silence falling upon the room.

Usually, the preacher's go-to is to have everyone shake hands and welcome one another, but you're thankful that he skips right over the tradition in favor of jumping straight into his speech. A direct continuation of last week's sermon, according to the woman whispering behind you. You're not quite sure how, but you know Rhett would have given you more trouble if you got up to greet people.

As if on cue, a calloused hand settles on your exposed knee, just below the hem of your Sunday dress. Maybe it's because the air conditioner is running in the middle of December, but his hand feels so hot you fear it may melt right through your skin.

"Rhett," whispering as quietly as you can, "get your hands off me."

It only serves to make your situation worse because he leans over to whisper directly into your ear, "seems to me you're in need of someone to keep you warm."

Teeth nip at the lobe of your ear, tugging on it for a fleeting second. His hand slides off your knee, if only for a muscular arm to drape over your shoulders instead. Great, absolutely wonderful.

But God, he's warm, and he's changed his started wearing that seasonal cologne he wears every December. Something bordering hot chocolate and vanilla, not overly sweet but so, so warm. It matches him in the strangest of ways, you conclude, as you reluctantly melt into his side.

Okay, this is...alright. There are several couples doing this very thing in front of you, nothing weird about this at all. It's not like you can argue when Rhett is practically a blazing furnace right next to you; this dress is cute, but it definitely was not made for the colder months. 

For a long minute, all you find yourself doing is curling into Rhett Abbott's side and listening to the preacher's voice as it grows louder and louder. A relaxed conversation about coming clean to those around you devolves into a rant about sinners and sex before marriage. The longer it goes, the stiffer Rhett becomes next to you, until all of a sudden, he's drawing away from you.

Without a word, he gets up and walks out. 

Strangely, you don't hear the front doors squeak open, nor do you feel the icy draft that always sneaks inside. For a minute, you reckon he's just gone to the men's room. The more time passes, the more you don't think that's so true. 

Fifteen minutes after Rhett vanished, you excuse yourself and quietly venture out into the hallway. 

"Rhett?" You try, but your voice vanishes under the preacher's louder one.

Even so, the felt brim of a cowboy hat pokes out from behind a door, dark brown in color and a little ripped in the front. You only know one man with a hat like that. It seems he didn't hear you because he's eyes brighten at the sight of you like he's been waiting on you to come looking for him this whole time. 

"There you are," he breathes, struggling to fight off the shit-eating grin that's working its way across his face as he reaches for you. "Did I even manage to get under your skin?" 

"I thought you were kidding when you suggested this shit," you hiss, but you don't stop him from guiding you into this tiny little office space with its large mahogany desk and beat-up loveseat. "Of course, you got under my skin, you ass!"

Rhett shoves you down onto the couch with a soft thump and drops to his knees so swiftly that you hear them hit the floor. The force of it jostles his hat, but he's not concerned in the slightest with readjusting it, "good." 

There's no teasing or beating around the bush in the way he pulls your hips toward the edge of the couch, rucking the skirt of your dress up in the process, "then I suppose you won't mind me making it up to you?" 

Hot breath ghosts up your cold thighs, sparks a newfound heat directly between your legs. Okay, that, that...

"Was this your plan all along?" Leaning into the cushions of the couch, this is all so sudden, but you're not one to complain when his nose is brushing against the only fabric he hasn't pushed to the side yet. 

"Do you expect anything less from me, darlin'?" Long lashes bat themselves up at you as he speaks, bordering devilish in tone and something soft in gaze. 

A hot tongue drags up the front of your panties, forces eye contact as he does so. So much all at once, but not enough. The vague pressure of his tongue isn't enough when there's such a thin layer of cotton separating him from where you want him. Only when you're about to pull them off yourself does he reach up and hook his fingers under the thin elastic waistband. 

"Bring your hips up, doll," murmuring into your thigh, and you're just barely able to muster the strength to do so. 

Finally, finally, he pulls your panties off, neatly folding and tucking them into his back pocket like a trophy. Sure hope you get those back; those are one of your current favorites. 

Your thoughts are cut short by the sudden sensation of a dripping tongue swirling at your clit, sloppy and oh-so-wet. It's so abrupt that you find yourself jolting away, only to be drawn back in by steady hands on your hips, holding you in place as he licks you up and down in fat stripes. 

"Rhett," gasping for a breath you can't seem to catch, "fuck, did you forget we're in church?" 

He hums into you, sends a shock wave up your spine with it. His wandering tongue finds your entrance, lapping at it incessantly but not quite pushing inside at first. The tip of his nose bumps against your clit, "been thinkin' of havin' you on my tongue since that alarm went off this mornin'." 

"So that's why you volunteered to come along?" Whining as he nods his head, "bastard—ah!" 

Just like that, Rhett's tongue slips inside of you, working in and out in languid thrusts as his nose presses harder into you. This little room is so quiet that you can hear the slick sound of his tongue working itself into your quivering cunt, his mouth so wet that it feels like he's drooling. 

Reaching down, he gets ahold of your thigh and guides your leg up over his shoulder, gives him better access to your writhing body. Practically fucks you open with his tongue, the soft tip of his nose bumping into your clit over and over. Enough to make you squirm, not enough to get you off. 

"Rhett, if you don't," the beginning of your threat is shaky, not intimidating even in the slightest, "get off that floor and fuck me right now."

His eyebrows raise, and his tongue slips out of you with the wettest noise you've ever heard. Fuck, he really must have been drooling, swollen, spit-slicked lips and wet chin glistening in the light, "yes, ma'am." The bastard just has to say it with a smile, too.

He makes no move to come up, though, and as his dominant hand lowers between your legs, you realize he's planning to lick you as he works you open. But you really, really want to kiss him right now. 

Lowering your leg from his shoulder, you seize him by the collar and pull. It takes him a moment to comply, and for a brief second, you think he's glued himself to that thinly-carpeted floor. With the softest whine, he rises, settling into the empty space next to you like a big ol' puppy. His eyes wide and confused, and it's not until you curl your fingers into his hair and drag him in that he realizes what you're doing.

"Kisses?" Whispering directly against your lips, surprised, but oh, does he just melt right into it. 

Soft, at first, just the simple mesh of lips that haven't touched each other since you first woke up, but then Rhett's finding his footing. Kisses you with a dizzying intensity, one hand cradling your cheek, the other slipping between your legs to tease the pad of his finger against your dripping entrance. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer, impossibly so, and it's so sloppy that you can't tell who's in control or who's calling the shots here. His thick finger presses into you, working in and out until he's knuckle deep, but he kisses you so softly, following your motions like a shadow. 

"Is that you clenchin' on my finger, or have I really not fucked you in a while?" His finger works in and out of you so slowly, a soft, simple motion that drags his knuckles against a gooey spot inside of you. Shit, when was—when was the last time you actually...?

"Both," you blurt, breathless, "I think this is the longest we've gone." Coincidentally, you think the last time you had sex was also on a couch. Given it was your couch and not some dingy thing in the back office of a church. 

It's only been a few weeks, three at the most, but it's been long enough for there to be a little bit of an ache as a second finger works into you. There's no way you're going to be walking out of here without a slight waddle in your step.

In and out, over and over, until he can work in a third. A thumb on your clit distracts you from the stretch, rubbing soft circles for every centimeter he eases into you. You're squirming, not sure if you're running away from the stimulation on your clit or chasing the feeling of those thick fingers delving in and out of you in short little thrusts. 

"Why are your fingers so fucking big?" Gasping as he kisses down your neck, those fingers curling against that little spot again. 

"Are they big?" And he's nibbling at the meet of your jaw, almost speaking directly into your ear, "or are you just small?" 

He's just big. 

Shaky, you fumble with his belt, absolutely relieved when you find that he isn't wearing one of those oversized rodeo buckles that are so hard to get open in times like these. Rhett chuckles against your skin, makes no effort to help or stop you as you pop the button to his jeans open. His fingers only quicken, properly fucking you with them now, and it makes it that much harder to reach past his waistband. 

"Shit," he hisses, jolting as your hand wraps around him and draws him out. Only letting him go to spit into your palm, wetting it just enough to stroke him smoothly. He's hard as a rock in your hand, heavy like one, too. Slow, he eases out of you, and with how empty you're feeling now, you hate to imagine how it's going to feel in a little bit. 

Your back hits the couch with a soft noise, the furniture creaking under the sudden placement of your weight. Then, Rhett's between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing against your freshly stretched rim but not pushing inside yet. 

"Didn't bring a condom," he breathes, "sure hope that ain't a problem, sweetheart." 

He sure doesn't sound apologetic. 

"Has it ever been a problem?" And there's more you want to say, but it's hard to speak when he presses into you, makes your back arch as he splits you wide open. 

Your legs clamp down around his lithe waist, lungs burning as you try and fail to regain your long-gone composure. Don't quite realize you had made a noise until he's shushing you, easing deeper inside until you feel his head fully enter you. Moves so, so slow that it's agonizing. 

Rhett pauses for just a second, chest heaving, "so tight, baby." 

"Can you move any faster?" You're intentionally leaving out the part that the longer he takes, the harder it is for you to keep your thighs from shaking around him.

"Hold on, darlin'," seizing your hips in his hands as he speaks, holding you still as he just about fucking stops, "I'm a little big for you, ain't I?" 

Big is a fucking understatement. Rhett's only about halfway in you, and you already can't fucking breathe. Never can. No matter how many times he's fucked you, slow, hard, it doesn't matter; you can never seem to get used to how big he is. 

His hands aren't big just for show; they're a fucking warning.

Finally, finally, finally, his hips come flush to yours, and you don't think there's any room for your lungs even to function anymore. Panting so hard that you don't realize Rhett's dropping to his forearms, kissing sweetly at your cheek. Such a stark contrast to the devilish roll of his hips between your legs. 

"Such a good girl for me," he soothes, "takin' every single inch just like that." 

His hips roll in tight little circles, getting you used to his size until you can catch your breath, long enough for your head to stop spinning, at least. All you have to do is nod your head once, and he's drawing back out of you, so familiar with your cues that he knows exactly what you're asking for. 

Then he's pushing back into you, and it's not even a long stroke, but it's enough to have you whimpering anyway. So thick that the head of his cock effortlessly massages the gooey spot inside your stretched pussy; you think you could cum just from this alone. 

"That preacher don't know what the hell he's talkin' about," and it's only now that you realize the sermon is still going, muffled but very audible through these old walls,  "every little lady deserves a man that can fuck her right." 

Rhett punctuates his sentence with a harder thrust, sending stars sparkling behind your eyelids like a light show.  Well, you can't argue with that statement. Not when he's doubling down and drilling into you in sharp, deep strokes that bullies his fat cockhead right into your sweet spot, kissing it with each and every stroke inward. 

"Rhett!" Fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, threatening to tear right into the thin material of his dress shirt. It's a kiss that smothers the whimper that boils out of your throat, dizzying but so, so tame compared to how his hips are working between your legs. 

"Look at you," leaning back until he's on his haunches, "innocent little thing gettin' fucked good by the big, bad cowboy." 

With that, he draws his hips back, snapping them back into you with a force that has you yelping. Hope nobody could hear that. Rhett's pace is changing, unrelenting, as he punches each and every breath out of your burning lungs. Feels so, so good that you can barely keep your eyes from fluttering shut, and it's all you can do to keep quiet when he licks his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit. 

"Oh, your hips are buckin' like mad now," and he has the absolute audacity to chuckle as he says it like he isn't in the middle of ruining you, "damn, girl."

"Hard to keep still when—" you can't finish your sentence, cut off by a wickedly sharp thrust, and he just holds it there. Grinding into you and eliciting this wet squelch that sounds absolutely sinful. 

It feels so good that the edges of your vision is starting to go white, and you don't know when you've started shaking, but you can't stop. Pussy throbbing as he settles down atop you again, legs just barely able to stay hooked over his hips. Rhett's moaning into your ear, deep and breathy, and you're not doing all that much, but it sounds like you're making him feel just as good as he's doing to you. 

"Do you wanna feel me cum inside you?" He whispers, biting at the shell of your ear, "do you wanna feel that?" 

All you can do is hum, barely able even to nod your head. The simple notion of Rhett cumming inside you is enough to have a coil tightening between your legs, clamping down impossibly tight around his thick cock. 

"Oh god," he's just barely able to keep talking, and the longer he goes on, the closer you can feel yourself getting, "so bad," punctuating it with another heavy thrust, "so bad."

You want to reach down between your legs and urge his thumb to rub you a little bit faster, but you're not even sure you can take any more than what he's giving you. Not when he keeps whispering dirty things in your ear, with these breathy little grunts that keep adding to the fire burning up in your lower belly. 

"So bad, but you make it so good," no, no, now you're batting his hand away from your clit, because if he keeps rubbing it while he's talking like this, your orgasm is going to his you right this very second. With another little grunt, Rhett starts talking again, "oh, baby, I'm gonna fill you up." 

His thrusts are quickening, hips getting twitchy and messing up his rhythm in the most delicious of ways, "'m gonna fill you up with my cum." 

All of a sudden, you can't breathe anymore, your body going taut as you cum around his twitching cock. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, heart pounding so heavily it just might break its way out your ribs. Everything's spinning; you can't fucking think; all you know is Rhett's grunting quietly into your ear, and his hips are stalling. Filling you with hot spurts of his cum, until there's not a single millimeter of empty space left inside you. 

"That's right," you can just barely hear him, but he's there, "that's fuckin' right, takin' every last drop of me." 

You're not sure how long it takes you to come back, to get your head out from the clouds and back down to earth, but when you do, Rhett's already eased himself out of you. Tucked away inside his jeans again, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead as his thumb pushes his cum back inside your swollen cunt. 

"You alright?" He asks sweetly, kissing the inside of your knee. 

It takes every fiber in your being to bring yourself to nod your head. Yeah, yeah, more than alright. 

"How 'bout I carry you outta here before they start lettin' folks out," he's so soft compared to just a few moments ago when he was drilling into you and whispering such filthy things, "get all settled up in a bath and have a nice, lazy day." 

All you have to do is hum your consent, and he's gathering you up into his chest, lifting you like it's the easiest thing he's ever done. It's hard to be cold when he picks his coat up off the rack on the way out, draping it over you like a big blanket. Yeah, a nice, lazy day sounds better than whatever the hell you had planned. 

And if anybody notices your sudden disappearances or the unmistakable sounds that came from the preacher's old office, they don't say a damn thing. 

[tinycheesecakedetective]

Bird Woman!

And with that, Black Raisin Cookie is complete. I see that maybe it's a smidge bit unfair PV and Black Raisin get full body shots but not White Lily and R. Velvet. Give it time, they're coming. In other news, I finally have a name for my Swap!Vanilla! Blight Orchid Cookie! And I'm still mad I didn't think of it earlier. Vanilla is a type of orchid, stem blight is a disease, and since PV's a healer, why not name the corrupted version of himself after a disease?

In addition, I would like to clarify something about Blight Orchid. That's very much Pure Vanilla. 100% him, no coma or anything. I know in the recent update they did the whole soul splitting thing (which is very interesting), but I feel like it takes away the bite of White Lily's story. So when the moonstone saves him, it'll only save his original body(which is now a dormant husk because it has no soul in it), and his soul is now Orchid's body. ...I need to get on a master post ASAP.

Back to bird lady, though. Black Raisin's role, if it isn't obvious, is taking the original role of Red Velvet! Instead of being discovered during the Witch's Banquet, Orchid releases himself into the world like the menace he is and finds her at the outskirts of her village. He sees a young Black Raisin injured and bedridden, and decides to take care of her as well as the other villagers. When he attempts to heal her he succeeds, but due to his corruption she develops more crow-like features like wings and talons. Orchid decides to stick around for a bit and before long the village becomes fond of him. Black Raisin specifically swears loyalty to him and becomes one of his most devoted members of the COD. So interesting thing, Black Raisin's personality doesn't shift that much. Asides from being evil now, she's the same Black Raisin we all know. Not her appearance. I made the decision to have her more crow like, a cool design choice but it caused immense pain trying to emulate into a cookie form. So that's on the back burner. She also has one wing on the side her arm was, meaning she can fly on her own. And that's about it! She was easy to conceptualize, but difficult to draw. I'm gonna try and see if I can start writing the actual thing. I think I want it to be more than just a concept thing. I think when/if I do, I can post it here and maybe AO3? I'm not sure yet, I guess it depends on how this goes.