that picture of lew with the pillow is making me think about Bobby being deployed for so long and having to muffle his moans around the other daggers cause he can’t stop thinking about his sweetheart back home 🤭
ohhhhhh my god, jenna please 😵💫 i love your big, beautiful mind! 🤭 i was thinking the exact same thing!
it’s close living quarters and the walls are thin. he’s got a couple of filthy polaroids to himself and a used pair of your lacy panties. he’s got them wrapped around his cock as he fists himself with your panties, bunched tightly into his knuckles. he’s almost drooling as the taste of you on his tongue is still there, but fading away with each passing day. it’s been months since he last saw you, but bob misses you desperately even if he hasn’t tasted you in two days. his moans are deep and desperate, he’s almost whining. as he draws himself closer, he places the pillow over his face to muffle the deep and gasping groan that escapes him, mouthing against the scratchy fabric. just a few more months until he can moan into his sweetheart’s cunt, or ear again.
hehe 🤭 i love thinking about my desperate daddy touching himself! thank you so much for this delicious (and incredibly accurate!) thot my love! 💌
preacher!rhett and pastor’s son!jake pass me back and forth rn
￫ authors notes: a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe. the universe is expanding!
￫ warnings: heavy religious themes, sex, rough sex, creampie, aftercare, pastors son!jake and preacher!rhett abbott.
“they’re so compliant f’ you, rhett.” jake drawled out from his chair by the side of the motel bed. his bare and broad thighs were spread, with his hand heavily fisting his cock. he watched with blown out pupils, as preacher abbott fucked your already puffy pussy on the rickety motel mattress.
“they let you do anythin’.” he quipped again.
rhett’s ministrations slowed down an inch and a smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. you whined from below at his slowing movements and squirmed your hips to chase his cock. rhett was quick to pinch your clit as a reminder to hush your protests.
“we invited y’ here to watch,” rhett grunted. “i don’t like sharin’ with just anybody. but, they keep lookin’ at you.” your cheeks flushed a hot pink with embarrassment. you turned your face away and tried to cover the growing flush with your hands, but rhett pulled them away. “don’t get shy now, little lamb. y’ want this?” he held your chin with his fingers and directed his gaze on you.
you hummed in agreement and nodded with pleading eyes.
“if that’s what y’ want, we’ll have you both.”
rhett looked over to jake, who had already risen from the chair and made his way to the edge of the bed. his large hands gripped firmly at your ankles and pulled you over. you let out a yelp and felt your cheeks redden, as you now gazed up at the pastor’s son.
“will you let me do anythin’ to you, sweet thing?” jake purred, with his thumb pressing against your clit and running smooth circles on it.
“i do anythin’ you both say.” you acknowledged his previous comments from moments ago.
“such a good girl.” he purred again with a cocksure smile. he was quick to grab your hips and pull you flush against him. his cock was a couple inches shorter than rhett’s, but far thicker. you let out a cry as your warm walls adjusted to the change in size. they soon changed to wanton moans as he began thrusting into you with no hesitation.
rhett was by you still and fisting his cock, occasionally dipping it into your mouth to wet his length.
jake sang high praises of you and repeatedly told you how well you were taking him. he leaned back slightly and let his thrusts become sloppy.
“touch yourself f’ me, sweet thing. i want to see you touch yourself.” he demanded.
you shivered and slithered your shaking hand down to your throbbing clit. you ran circles around it and mewled. he was quick to correct any sloppy movements from your fingers and guided you to touch yourself how he saw fit. he would work you up to the edge with his lazy thrusts, before quickly instructing you to take your hand away. you were squirming and crying out pleas, begging to come. you kept looking to your preacher as if to ask for forgiveness, to which rhett would simply tut and shake his head.
“you said we could do anythin’.” rhett mocked you with faux sympathy. soon his hand wasn’t enough for him and he demanded to take you from jake.
jake handed you back with an irritated grumble. he wouldn’t question preacher abbott. jake was well aware of rhett’s connections to his father. he knew that his prospective future would crumble within seconds.
the sweaty and sticky night would proceed with rhett taking you on his cock and making you squirt little dribbles of your inevitable orgasm. jake would brazenly beg (which sounded so sweet to rhett) to take you back and to feel you squeezing around his cock, eventually causing you to come around him.
rhett then gritted through his teeth how he was going to make you come un-done for the second time, but not before jake was pulling your third orgasm out of you.
“i know you’ve got one more in you, sweet thing.” he challenged, still with a cocksure smile.
you finally lay there with your chest heaving and your heart pounding in your ears, as you caught your breaths. you felt both of their spends leaking out of your poor, abused cunt. teeth marks and hand prints littered your hot flesh. but soon you felt the cool washcloth and preacher abbott scooping you up to lay between him and the pastor’s son, jake.
Thinking about preacher!rhett wearing little lambs purity ring on a necklace around his neck…and wearing it in front of their father 🤭
￫ a/n: JENNA YOU SICK— your wish is my command baby 🤭 ilysm <3 a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe.
￫ c/w: heavy religious themes and preacher!rhett abbott.
it’s not like your parents made any big deal out of your purity ring anyway. you went to college and back, and still you only wore it on formal occasions, especially for church. it was perfectly fine when your preacher toyed with it on your finger, as you sat on his naked lap in his desk chair, in his back office. right?
your bodies stuck together with thick sweat from rhett taking you over his desk. you were both coming down from your individual highs and floating in the post-orgasm haze, and his attention drew to your ring. he rung it around your finger a handful of times before slipping it off and twisting it in his own. he placed it down on his desk and slid it across.
“y’ don’t need this anymore, do you? y’ don’t wan’ bein’ seen with it on when we both know it’s not true?”
“no…. but, what if people ask, like my parents?”
“whatever y’ daddy says, it don’t matter. only you ‘nd i know the truth. y’ tell them you’ve given yourself to God, ‘nd you have, haven’t you, little lamb? to me?”
you sucked in your bottom lip and hummed in agreement. in return rhett placed a soft kiss to your cheek, feeling his stubble and slick hair tickle against your skin.
“‘atta girl. i’ll keep it safe. somewhere only me ‘nd you are to know.”
and you trusted your preacher, like always.
so when the next sunday rolled around and you caught rhett by the table holding refreshments, narrowly avoiding having to hold the conversation he was having with your dad, your mind raced to believed that your parents still wouldn’t make a big deal out of your purity ring. especially considering that it was now hanging off a gold chain, wrapped around preacher abbott’s neck and poking out of the button on his shirt.
“rhett… what the fu—”
your tone was hushed and harsh, but with an edge of panic to it. you’d both always been so careful together and your heart began to race at the prospect of your guidance with preacher abbott coming to a screeching halt.
“it’s safe. somewhere only me ‘nd you know is under this shirt. behave. besides, your da’ thought it was a ring from some girl out state. you’re not bein’ taken from me ‘nytime soon, little lamb.”
by the end of the sentence and the sweet name that he called you, his mouth was hot by your ear and his voice was a low growl. your heart was now racing at how close he was to you in such a public proximity. you could feel your throat closing up, your mouth drying, but all the while, your thighs clenched. goosebumps trailed over the back of your neck and rhett drew back with a smirk so slick, no man, or God could hide it.
the last thing he whispered close to you ear, with his eyes darting around the room to make a swift and calculated move, was, “you’ll see y’ ring again after we clear up here, darlin’.”
Preacher!rhett using his hunting knife to cut off your panties and cut the buttons off of your dress before he goes down on you 😵💫
ptolemaea. | r.a.
preacher!rhett abbott x reader.
￫ summary: you and your sinful preacher outline your future together, in the back of his pick up truck.
￫ word count: 3.4K.
￫ warnings: heavy and dark religious themes, dark themes, corruption and innocence kink, cnc, daddy kink, knife kink, blood kink, use of knives, marking you, rough sex, oral, breast pinching and aftercare.
￫ authors notes: a huge thank you to @sunblchdfly for brainstorming this with me and keeping me going with writing this! <3 this is part of ptolemaea. | the verses. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌
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It was exhilarating.
Your recent adventure of allowing Rhett to chase you through the woods at the back of the motel and fuck you against the dirty forest floor had unlocked something in you and awakened something in him.
After experiencing your pliant behaviour and your willingness to allow him to do as he pleased, he was determined to push you further. A deep rumble had awakened in his gut, and he had orchestrated the final push.
The feeling of the thin steel blade from his hunting knife drawing along your skin was something far more vulnerable to you.
It needed to be done within the safety and confines of something familiar to both of you. A motel room couldn’t be that for either of you, but the back of his truck, pulled off in a deserted location, could be. You had spent many nights in the back of his truck, both back home and on the road. Besides Rhett himself, it had become the closest thing to a familiar home that you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
Rhett had calculated for an action as deviant as this to be as far away from civilisation as possible.
The soft blankets that were cushioning your trembling frame underneath were a harsh comparison to the razor-thin blade currently pressing on your tender flesh and drawing down. He had you caged in entirely, with one of his broad forearms resting beside your head and his large frame covering yours.
He had left enough room between the two of you so he could nimbly move his hunting knife down the valley of your breasts. Goosebumps rose in its devilish wake, and from the low light of his camping torch, you could see the wicked grin drawing across his lips.
He let the needle point of his knife flick upwards on the softest part of your left breast. A small cut, no more than a centimetre in length, began bleeding through. Your hand shot up to grab at his forearm, feeling the sudden prick. Your senses were startled, and your chest heaved in response.
“Rhett!” You gasped out with a moan.
He clicked his tongue with disapproval and shook his head. “Cry all y’ want, little lamb. No one can hear you ‘nd you’re enjoyin’ this. I know you are.”
You whined in defeat and let your thighs fall together, rubbing aimlessly against themselves.
His gaze zoned in on the small trickle of ceremonial blood that was dripping from the gash. Instinctively, to Rhett, his tongue dragged across his bottom lip. You could’ve sworn that drool was pooling under his tongue. It was as if he were starving for his first blood, but the camping light was too dim to allow you to notice.
“Tell me, where d’ y’ want me t’ go?” His low voice cut through the thick night. He pressed his hunting knife back to the soft plush of your breasts and trailed it lower, until he was pressing against the seam of your dress.
You chewed at the inside of your cheek and swallowed thickly. Your request was dancing on the tip of your tongue, but asking for such a sinful thing required your Preacher’s gentle coaxing.
“Go on.” His voice was softer and barely registered above a whisper.
“D—Down there….”
“Down where? Use y’ words, or I’ll cause a lot more damage. Believe me.” He bit back. At the snap of a finger, his voice became frightening.
A frightful whimper left your lips as your mind caught up with your nervous system. Your heart was pounding so hard against your ribcage that you only assumed that Rhett could hear it.
“Your cunt. I want to feel it.” You mumbled out with a shaky breath.
“Atta, girl.” He cooed. He was quick to swivel the blade of his hunting knife along your dress and catch under the buttons that ran down.
With pinpoint accuracy, he cut the thread of the first four buttons. You yelped with a loud cry when he freed them in quick succession. Your bare breasts became exposed to the cool night air, and your body shuddered in response.
He let the knife fall to the truck bed with a violent clang. He snarled, baring his teeth to you whilst his bare hands fisted at the remainder of your buttons and ripped them apart.
His scornful touch found its way to your breasts within an instant. He gripped the tender flesh and palmed it along his calloused palm. His nimble fingers turned inwards and pinched at both of your nipples, continually tweaking and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.
The harsh tugs caused you to cry out with a cracked moan, but he swallowed your sounds as he crashed his lips against yours. He began rubbing his clothed crotch against yours and swallowed your desperate moans down, when his tongue swiped along the inside of your mouth. He parted momentarily to allow his teeth to tug harshly at your bottom lip, keening to draw more blood. He swallowed another cry from yourself.
“Mine, mine, mine. All fuckin’ mine.” He grunted against your lips, desperately panting.
You were now completely naked to the night sky. All that kept you hidden was the thin underwear resting on your hips.
His gaze flicked over your body, showcasing your vulnerability, and his plan had finally come to its crescendo. He was going to mark you as his. Not with something that would fade over time, such as a love bite. Something that would be drawn onto your flesh until the end of your days.
As he pulled apart from you, he snickered at the sight of your hooded eyes with your pupils overcome with desire. Your lips were plush and starting to swell from the graze of his three-day-old stubble. You came to cradle his face with your hands, pitiful whines escaping your mouth.
“Shh, shh, sweet lamb.” He cooed. You hummed in peace and let his words carry you, squirming your hips upwards to meet his. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. I ain’t leavin’ you. If y’ let me, I’ll bind you t’ me forever. Will y’ let me?”
You frowned momentarily, but when you watched him reach for his hunting knife, your gaze drew wide as he shone a light on his most desired actions.
You had come far enough not even to begin doubting that everything he had planned for you was justified. There was no right or wrong with him anymore. You had given yourself to him. Your heart was pounding in the palm of his hand, and he would squeeze it to keep you breathing.
“Do y’ trust me?” He asked.
Without a semblance of doubt or hesitation, you replied.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He bent down once more to place a heated kiss on your lips, letting his free hand gently cradle your jaw and run his thumb soothingly over your cheek. It was a gesture from Rhett that you had always found the most comforting.
He drew himself up and sat back to straddle your thighs. His thighs were wrapped tightly around yours to keep you firmly in place. It allowed for no room to struggle against him, and the pinpoint touch of his knife found its place back atop the valley of your breasts.
In sequenced movements, he trailed the blade over the soft mounds of your breasts and teased around the tender flesh of your nipples. Your breath hitched and caught tightly in your throat as he prodded there. You knew one slight shift from yourself, and you’d lose them.
You locked eyes with him, and a deep groan left his throat. Your eyes were wide with panic, pleading desperately with him not hurt you so badly, but they were blown near black with desire.
The sight before him caused his jeans to strain impossibly tighter around his cock. A sinister chuckle rumbled from him, and he let his blade fall away from your sensitive nipples.
He drew it over your ribs and then your stomach, where he allowed the blade to push a little deeper. He cut a seam roughly four centimetres in length, just under your left rib. His thumb smeared the trickling blood across your skin and let the tip of his thumb press a little deeper into the incision. A snarl twitched onto his face as he prodded. The blade was far enough from your body to allow your hips to buck slightly.
A shaky moan left your lips. “Rhett! Please, God… I…”
“God isn’t here.” He bit back.
The heavenly smirk dropped from his lips in a flash. His face was cold. His thumb from your incision was placed between his lips, and he sucked down on the sweet taste of your blood, savouring every drop. He snarled again, and when he bared his teeth to you, you saw the reflection of your stained blood in the dim light.
“I— What?!”
The tip of his knife found a spongy spot of flesh around your hip bone, and he dug in. Another cry tore from your throat, and your eyes squeezed shut at the stinging sensation that was currently being drawn through your skin.
His free hand moved to cup your clothed cunt. “Shh, shh. I’m here, it’s okay, little lamb. I’m here.”
When you opened your eyes again, your desperate eyes met his, and you gasped out a shaky sigh of relief at the familiar face of your Preacher. His eyes were focused intently on where his blade was travelling, and he wore a malicious, yet smug grin as he provided you with such indescribable pleasure. A tight knot mixed with pain and desire was curling in the lower half of your stomach, and the illusion of safety was placed back around you like a blanket.
“I am no good nor evil, simply I am, ‘nd I have come t’ take what is mine. I was there in the dark when you spilt your first blood.” He punctuated every syllable.
He was careful, showing a steady precision with his blade, so as not to let it push deep enough to cause permanent harm. He pressed enough to etch his mark onto your skin. He needed to preserve you.
As he drew the remaining lines across your hip bone, the heel of his palm that was pressed against your underwear pushed down onto your clit. Pleasure drove through you at the friction, causing a wanton moan to escape your throat.
It was intoxicating, how he could deliver such pain, but still manage to coat your underwear in the shiny slick of your arousal.
With one final swipe, he sat back and let the blade fall to the bed of the truck. He wore a wicked smile with faint traces of yourself still covering his teeth.
“Look at you. Such a pretty sight for y’ Preacher. Marked as mine forever.”
His darkened eyes were fixated on your hips. You sat up on your elbows to take a look, and a shaky gasp was expelled from you.
The letters and initials of R.A. were carved intricately on your skin. Trickles of deep red were dribbling from your hip, and another press from his palm had you softly whining.
The claim of Rhett’s name tattooed on your flesh had your eyelids feeling heavy and your cheeks growing warm. Your stomach was churning with waves of need, wanting to feel Rhett kiss away the pain and draw you to orgasm, to snap that knot that was curling in your stomach.
“Need you.” You panted.
He obliged within the blink of an eye. He dropped down to your frame and situated himself between your thighs, taking his hunting knife with him for one last time. He let the dull and cool side of the blade press against your pubic bone, as he slit the razor edge upwards to cut off your underwear in one swift and fluid motion.
A low chuckle was heard, followed by the click of his tongue.
“Little lamb.” He taunted. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. My cum is stuck to your pretty underwear. This get y’ goin’ that badly, hm?”
He lazily swiped his finger through your folds and pressed the calloused pad against your clit. You let out a feeble whine, and your hips bucked upwards to chase his touch.
“Y—Yes! Fuck! Yes, Daddy.” You choked out.
“Y’ like the idea of Daddy cuttin’ his name into you like that? Markin’ you as mine?”
You let out a whimper and nodded your head vigorously to agree.
“Oh, sweet thing. How far you’ve strayed.”
Your cunt was glistening with your arousal. Rhett had already tasted the sins of the flesh, but he was hungry for something sweeter.
His lips attached to your clit instantly and sucked down harshly. A loud cry was all that could be heard from you. It muffled out the sloppy sounds of his tongue lapping through your folds and sucking heinously on your swollen and untouched bundle of nerves.
Your cries were called out into the velvet night, but they were lost within the sea of stars. There was no one around to hear you for miles, and even though your body was completely exposed to the night, you felt no shame as your Preacher ate away at his pussy like it was the last supper he was to feast on.
Your hands shot out to grip his strands of hair and tug harshly against them. His face was completely pressed up against your pussy, but you craved him deeper. As his initials throbbed on your hip, you longed for him to cut open your stomach and crawl under your skin, to allow you pleasure for the rest of your life.
His rough hands came to grip your hips, and his thumb pressed gently into the markings. In this very moment, all that you could focus on was for Rhett to forever live on inside of you, as his tongue prodded and licked at your engorged clit.
Although he was drunkenly feasting on your cunt, he prodded carefully at your incision. When he drew his tongue up your folds and caught himself on your clit, he would press the pad of his thumb down to elicit a burst of pain and pleasure. Each occasion caused a cry to tear from your throat and your thighs to draw tighter around his shoulders.
It was a merciless assault on your clit, with each stroke from his wet muscle pushing you closer to teetering off that all-familiar edge.
All that could be heard from him was his muffled grunts and groans, occasionally his deep breaths through his nostrils as he inhaled your scent that was seeping through your lips.
He was grinding his hips against the truck bed, but the low light from the camping light obscured his movements. His cock was straining hard against his jeans, and he craved the rough and tightly constructed friction.
Experiencing the same painful pleasure as yourself, and knowing that it was him doing this to you, had interwoven himself with your body. It was enough to push him to that same edge.
Another moan was caught in your throat, but torn out without hesitation as his tongue pressed and then drew repeated circles around your bud. He repeated this motion until you felt the knot pull tightly together, threatening to snap.
He could tell you were close. The way your chest was heaving, in a weak attempt to catch your breath. How your thighs were trembling furiously against his face. How your fingertips clawed tightly at his hair.
“‘m… I’m gonna… Fuck, fuck, fuck! Rhett!”
You choked back a sob and heaved as the waves of pleasure tore through your abdomen and sparked through your body, touching every nerve. Your bare body was twitching, with your hips thrashing against Rhett’s scratchy stubble, craving more friction.
Your tearful sobs were relentless, as he firmly held onto your hips to keep his tongue pressed to your clit. Your arousal flowed onto his tongue, and guttural groans were muffled against you, as he tasted everything that you had to give him.
He continued his ministrations on your now ever-sensitive clit, but gently eased up on his strokes as the sparks of pleasure drowned out and washed over your body in a blissful glow.
You were dizzy. Your eyes glazed over, and your speech slurred.
“Rhett…” You whined, reaching out your trembling hands to cradle his face when he appeared from your soaked thighs.
His chin shone with the reflection of your spend and the faintest stain of pink from your blood on his teeth. He pressed his hot cheek into your palm and nuzzled against your tender hand. His hands gently held onto your forearms.
“Do y’ want me to…”
He let out a snicker. “No need, little lamb.”
You frowned and squinted down at his jeans to spot the very obvious stain blossoming through the material. You laughed faintly, your grin lopsided and drunk off pleasure.
“C’ere. I need t’ take care of my precious little lamb.”
He leaned down and scooped his broad forearm under your back to sit you up. His spare hand sneaked underneath your thighs to lift you and hoist you against his frame. He shuffled down to the end of the truck and carried you to the passenger seat, gently placing you down.
He already had the spare clothes and medical supplies that you required sitting in the driver's seat. You whined when he momentarily left your side, but he was back quickly to dress you in his t-shirt and cover you with his plaid shirt.
He carefully slipped a pair of his boxers over your naked lower half before peeling down the hem to take a look at your hip.
He stood at the door of the passenger seat and cracked open the medical supplies required. With a faint and careful touch, he gently patted at his initials and the other markings with a cotton pad. Your face winced, and you reached out to squeeze his shirt.
Little groans left your dry throat, but he was there to soothe you.
“Shh, shh.” He gently cooed at you. “I know, darlin’. I know it stings, but I need t’ take good care of you. We must preserve this. But y’ took me s’ well. You look s’ pretty f’ me. I’m s’ proud of you. I love you, little lamb.”
He pressed kiss after kiss to your temple, as he patched you up and left the bandages where they needed to lie. He cradled your warm cheek in his hand as he tipped the water bottle upwards, enabling you to take a sip. It cooled your throat that had been scratched from loud and pleasurable moans.
“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised you softly.
You let out a small and isolated whimper, brushing your cheek against his palm. You swallowed down the water before he wiped away the remaining droplets with his thumb.
“Will y’ always take such good care of me, Rhett?” You blinked at him with an innocent gaze.
For within your clouded eyes, Rhett marking you with his initials now meant that he was bound to you forever. With the spilling of your blood, through life and death, he would be there to take care of you. You had nearly travelled the whole of America with him, and the sight of your blood bared on his teeth was the final nail in your palm that bound you to him.
“Y’ a Daughter of Abbott, yes?” His hands squeezed your arms, holding his firm gaze with you.
“Yes…” You agreed, barely above a whisper.
Your breath was caught in your throat as his cobalt eyes bore into yours without wavering.
He had you nailed to him.
“I will make ‘em eat the flesh of their sons ‘nd daughters, ‘nd they will eat one another’s flesh because their enemies will press the siege s’ hard against them to destroy them.” He quoted the verse from Jeremiah that you were familiar with.
You had heard Rhett muttering it to himself repeatedly, within the quiet confines of the Church walls.
That time in your town appeared increasingly distant to you now. The restless nights that you spent debating your choices seemed so idiotic now. How could you have been so blind? He was right here all along. A little spilt blood for Rhett was all that he needed so that he could protect you. And you were willing to give him whatever he required.
He squeezed your arms tightly again, punctuating his final and binding words. “I will protect you from the siege, little lamb, by carving my name ‘nd consuming your blood. No one can destroy us.”
preacher!rhett’s cross chain dangling over you while he fucks you sensel-[GUNSHOT]
￫ a/n: a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe.
￫ c/w: heavy religious themes, sex and preacher!rhett abbott.
it’s messy and it’s quick. your legs are wrapped tightly around preacher abbott’s waist, as you lay spread out on his desk. his hips are moving against you with a relentless speed and the tip of his swollen cock is nudging sweetly inside of you with every thrust.
“damn you to hell f’ wearin’ this fuckin’ dress. today of all days, y’ just had to? didn’t you, you little fuckin’ harlot?”
it was a sunday cook out at the church and you had opted for a white sundress, decorated in little pastel pink flowers. the low cut of the dress gave rhett a heavenly sight of your breasts, practically spilling out when you purposefully bent over in front of him.
he had approximately ten minutes to drag you to his back office and see to you, before someone would find him to make the speech, thanking everyone for coming.
the determination and angle of his pin point thrusts had your fingertips clawing against his forearms, surely leaving little crescent shapes in their wake. your eyebrows were knitted tightly together, mirroring rhett’s own and your jaw was slack from indescribable pleasure. your constant moaning became louder and turned into high pitched whines. you were begging and pleading for your preacher.
what for exactly, you didn’t know. all your cock drunk brain could focus on was him.
“jesus fuckin’ christ—” rhett gritted tightly between his teeth, cursing out your name. “shut the fuck up. i ain’t gettin’ caught yet. this cunt is t’ sweet.”
as if God himself became your saviour in that moment, your preacher’s golden cross chain fell out from his shirt and began dangling over you. it was swaying in between the valley of your breasts in time with his thrusts. when it swayed upwards towards your face, you caught it between your teeth and bit down hard.
rhett let out a grunted chuckle and brought one large hand up to grip at your cheeks, as to keep his cross, working as a make shift gag, firmly in place.
“feelin’ good, baby?” rhett cooed, slowing his pace. “feelin’ full o’ daddy, little one?”
you looked up at him in your fucked out haze. rhett brought his hand to your cheek, wiping your sweaty hair off of your face. “yes, daddy.” you leaned in to him. “do it again, please, fill me up again.” you pleaded, and of course, rhett could never say no to his precious little lamb.
going to sleep feelin so full of him 🥹
￫ a/n: i’m so in love with you jenna 🥹 a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe.
￫ c/w: heavy religious themes, sex, pussy eating, cum eating, daddy kink, cnc and preacher!rhett abbott.
with what money rhett had stolen from the church, it meant that decent motels with a firm mattress weren’t an occurrence. you had to stay in motels that were falling apart at the seams, similarly with the mattresses doing the same.
it was hard to sleep some nights. if it wasn’t for your nightmares that plagued your mind, it was the lump in the mattress where you couldn’t get comfortable. but as a week went by on your road out west, rhett learned how to cradle you to sleep.
after he spilt himself inside of you and you pleaded with him to do the same again, he cooed again at you with his thumb rubbing over your cheek as you leaned into him.
“of course, little lamb. anythin’ for my baby.” his pace had stopped completely by now and you let out a whine as you felt his softening cock pull out of you. he shushed you quietly and kissed over your warm cheeks. “it’s okay, lamb. ‘m right here still. y’ feel good? good girl. close y’ eyes.”
your eyelids felt heavy and they were drooping. you let them fall shut for brief intermissions as rhett’s lips traced over your neck and down your stomach. he could taste the salty sweetness of yours and his sweat that had mixed in a light sheen, as he had his torso pressed firmly against you.
his large hands held onto your thighs and pushed them apart, letting out a low groan when he saw his pretty pussy, puffy and leaking with himself. his mouth attached instantly to your cunt and sealed in the warmth radiating off you with his lips. he dipped his tongue right through your folds and lapped eagerly at the mix of you both. obscene wet sounds fell from his lips, with guttural grunts and groans as he tasted you both.
little and soft whines were leaving you, with your chest jumping every so often as your breathing went from regulated, to pleasure induced again.
“need you, daddy. need you!” you pleaded once more with him and tugged tightly onto his sweaty strands of hair. he sucked the last crude-sounding drop of his cum from your cunt and came back up with a pussy drunk and lopsided grin on his face.
by this time rhett had ground his now semi cock into the mattress hard enough. he held it heavy in his hand as he cradled your face again with his other. he tapped the tip of his cock against your swollen clit and you both moaned drunkenly in sequence.
“daddy!” you whined again, but it was barely a whisper. sleep was tugging at your senses but you just needed to feel full of your preacher again.
“‘m here little lamb, daddy’s here. gon’ make y’ feel s’ full o’ daddy again, baby. i’ve got you. always gon’ take care of you, my sweet lamb.” rhett drawled out.
preacher rhett and les mis thoughts. an au of an au.
￫ warnings: mentions of spitting.
￫ authors notes: this is insane, but you really have to hear us out. thank you @sunblchdfly for your incredible ideas, ilysm 😭🫶🏼
there was a moment in the beginning, at the factory, with the foreman being suggestive towards the girls.
the foreman then threw fantine to the ground and spat on her. taking the context out of the actions, me and jenna both shared the same brain spark in that moment.
we thought of a preacher rhett au au, in which preacher rhett plays the role of a well established foreman, or owner of a factory, with a heavy and dark influence, similar to that of javert. perhaps even a law abiding and deeply religious man, who makes his money through his factory.
little lamb in this au is a cosette type character. sweet and innocent, but their naivety of the world will wrap them up in a confused web of desire, or love. they cannot understand which is which. preacher!javert!rhett, takes to little lamb!cosette as they work in the factory. they’re his favourite girl. he has them spread out on the rickety table in his office, above the factory. he likes to watch their eyes flutter, when he spits his saliva into their mouth.
willoughby rhett in this au (yes, i know he’s already an au of an au) is marius. desperate to push the boundaries of what is established, desperate to fight for change, but when he pays a visit to a factory on other business, he stumbles across the sight of preacher!javert!rhett taking little lamb on the rickety office table.
girlhood is watching les mis in london, talking extensively about preacher rhett au’s in the back of the uber and reading javert fanfiction together @sunblchdfly <3
