#and I choose you the one I was dancing with in New York

[harryandtaylorscardigan]

No because I will never get over this

#I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL #no one understands #Grammys were the ​la la land ending #when she said it was too much do you wish you could still touch her #and I choose you the one I was dancing with in New York #everyone needs to read the Haylor timeline on twitter at least 3 times through

[thesnowfelled]

None of this was planned when she came back to NEW YORK.  Her thought was that DARREN would have forgotten about her but it appears not.  The two of them fall into a fast friendship that leaves Lucy feeling breathless on any given day.  It’s GAME NIGHT which was a Lucy tradition at Darren’s place with a glass of RED WINE in hand.  She was LOSING her terribly at POKER that a pout was forming on her pink lips. The two of them could be doing ANYTHING in the world and yet,  she was fine with being here in his place when she has never felt safe anywhere. She lived with her GRANDPARENTS and that was okay for now because rent was EXPENSIVE and not worth it at the moment.  Her money often goes to parties, alcohol, and reckless tastes of freedom that she never had before.  Even then,  Lucy still shows up on Sunday morning with her grandparents and Peter. 

Right now,  Lucy is staring at Darren and he was trying to bring a smile to her face and she ignores the way her stomach TWISTS with butterflies that knock against her rib cadge.

Lucy laughs as she places her cards down against the table before picking up her wine glass.   ❝ You got me. This game can be very fun but it is getting late and I still need to get home. ❞   But there is apart of her that hopes that he suggests that she stays the night.  Lucy polishes off the rest of the wine in her glass, letting out a soft moan before setting the empty glass down on the table.    ❝ We should go OUT to a club on SATURDAY night. ❞   And maybe she will offer him a dance when the fear of rejection isn’t there.  

❛ there it is, there’s that smile! ❜ Darren to Lucy    /    @fatalflcws​

#* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : answers. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( OOC : all answered. ) ⠀ › ⠀ signs her LETTERS with x’s and o’s #fatalflcws

[moniquill]

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/706010/to-shape-a-dragons-breath-by-moniquill-blackgoose/

ABOUT TO SHAPE A DRAGON’S BREATH

A young Indigenous woman enters a colonizer-run dragon academy—and quickly finds herself at odds with the “approved” way of doing things—in the first book of this brilliant new fantasy series. The remote island of Masquapaug has not seen a dragon in many generations—until fifteen-year-old Anequs finds a dragon’s egg and bonds with its hatchling. Her people are delighted, for all remember the tales of the days when dragons lived among them and danced away the storms of autumn, enabling the people to thrive. To them, Anequs is revered as Nampeshiweisit—a person in a unique relationship with a dragon. Unfortunately for Anequs, the Anglish conquerors of her land have different opinions. They have a very specific idea of how a dragon should be raised, and who should be doing the raising—and Anequs does not meet any of their requirements. Only with great reluctance do they allow Anequs to enroll in a proper Anglish dragon school on the mainland. If she cannot succeed there, her dragon will be killed. For a girl with no formal schooling, a non-Anglish upbringing, and a very different understanding of the history of her land, challenges abound—both socially and academically. But Anequs is smart, determined, and resolved to learn what she needs to help her dragon, even if it means teaching herself. The one thing she refuses to do, however, is become the meek Anglish miss that everyone expects. Anequs and her dragon may be coming of age, but they’re also coming to power, and that brings an important realization: the world needs changing—and they might just be the ones to do it.

PRAISE

“A thorough delight . . . To Shape a Dragon’s Breath reveals a world that is complex and political through deft, thoughtfully drawn characters who, like their world, are complicated and believable. I love Anequs!”—K. Eason, author of How Rory Thorne Destroyed the Multiverse “Imagine a world full of dragons where a newborn chooses you to be its caregiver. Imagine you have to go to a special school to learn how to train it. Imagine that almost no one at the school wants you there. This is how the well-written, compelling tale of To Shape a Dragon’s Breath begins, and once underway it doesn’t let you go.”—New York Times bestselling author Terry Brooks

#TSADB #To Shape A Dragons Breath #Moniquill Blackgoose #Indigenous #Book release #Please share and spread!

[k-tarotz]

Pick a Pile | Where will your F/s take you on a winter date?

Since it's already December we thought of making our first winter/Christmas pac! You can of course participate in this even if you dont celebrate Christmas, if you want to if course. Choose one or multiple piles that you are drawn to and read about it! Please like, reblog and comment as its highly appreciated, thank you! <3 disclaimer; this is a general reading! these messages may not fit everyone. please take what resonates and leave the rest. Dividers & pictures aren't from us, credits to the right owners!

Kpop readings | updated personal readings | masterlist

Pile 1:

This one is giving the most "home" vibes and

therefore; your date would invite you to their house. They would decorate their house all festively with the most beautiful Christmas decorations they can find, even put up the Christmas tree. Then they would dim the lights, only let the Christmas leds of the Christmas tree on along with other decorations that have the ability to give light. They would make their bed super comfy with blankets, pillows, cute plushies and prepare hot chocolate and cookies. They would snuggle with you on said bed while laying/sitting comfortably with you there. Their arm nicely around you and what else would you be doing than..... watching Christmas movies together?! Watching all of your favorite Christmas movies and maybe even the classic ones like Kevin home alone / alone in New York, elf, the grinch and so on! It would be an incredible cozy and romantic date which would make your connection to each other stronger.

Pile 2:

Your future spouse would take you on a date to a café! But not just some kinda boring or classic one - no, it would be one that has many Christmas decorations, even small Christmas trees on every table. There would play background music, not too loud not too quite, of course it would be mostly Christmas songs. The desserts, cookies,pastries and even the hot chocolate would have Christmas motives on it. It would all look super cute and taste amazing. They would love to spoil you, asking you to ignore the prices of it as it is the season of giving. They would possibly spend hours with you there getting lost in the conversation with you and of course walking you home after it, while snow crunches under your feet. Holding your hand to feel your warmth and also just in case so they can catch you in case you slip slightly. You would have an amazing date that you wouldn't forget. Neither of you would!

Pile 3:

As for this one I feel like your future spouse would invite you over to their house to bake cookies together, if possible multiple different ones. They would enjoy baking together with you, perhaps take a tiny bit of the flour and put it on your cheek - then let out the most sweetest laugh ever. It might turn into a small but nome serious playful fight, which would end up in them pulling you suddenly closer and kissing you. While still baking with you, most likely While the cookies are in the oven, they would suddenly turn on the song "all I want fir Christmas is you" and start dancing to it, actually trying to dance together with you to it. The whole atmosphere would be so warm and lovely, both of you focused on only each other. Of course they would eat the cookies together with you after they are done, feeding you sometimes. They would praise you on it, enjoying their time with you more than anything else in the world.

That's it! Our first Christmas/winter pac ever! Feel free to leave feedback if you want to! Stay safe and take care of yourselves lovelies <3

- Candy

#winter #christmas #winter layouts #christmas moodboard #moodboard #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #pick an image #pac #pap #spiritual #spirituality #intuitive reading #divider #christmas divider #christmas pictures #winter pics #holiday #holiday season #december #Christmas mood #cozy #gifts #presents #Christmas tree #fs #future spouse #aesthetic

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Video Star (Request)

Travis is a star on the field, but is he just as good as your music video love interest?

Words: 1,672

Warnings: implied smut, language, DNI if under 18

“Ok, last thing to go over. We need you to choose the love interest for your music video.” Your manager handed you a piece of paper with a list of names on it. “These are all of the people who have availability over the next couple of months. We tried to pick people from different areas; athletes, a couple of models, even a musician in the mix.” You were getting ready to shoot the music video for your new song “Woman” off of your sophomore album. “Are we still going with the club scene? We need someone who can actually dance, I don’t want a repeat of last year.” Your manager nodded in agreement, jotting down notes furiously. You had chosen a model for one of your other music videos last year, and while he was extremely attractive and photogenic, he couldn’t dance worth shit and it showed on camera. You still cringe at the YouTube comments till this day.

You scanned the list, and no one caught your eye until you got to Travis Kelce. “Wait, Travis said yes? Isn’t he dating someone?” Your manager pulled up something on her phone, flipping it so you could read the headline. “Travis Kelce breaks up with longtime girlfriend Kayla Nicole.” You shrugged. You had met Travis a couple of times through work commitments, and you were a fan of his, so he seemed like the best bet. “Ok, Kelce will work. I want to meet with him before we shoot. Make sure the chemistry is there.” You handed the paper back to your manager who immediately got Travis’ team on the phone to set up a meeting.

Between your hectic schedule and Travis’ football games, you didn’t get a chance to meet up for a couple of weeks. Finally, Travis was going to be in New York for a game against the Jets and had a day off where you could grab lunch together. You rarely traveled with more than person at one time, your manager usually tagging along to your business meetings, but you asked her not to come this time because you didn’t want this to feel like work. You and Travis were going to get very “intimate” in this music video and while it was all for show, you needed it to be convincing. If the chemistry wasn’t there, no amount of editing was going to make it a good music video. You watched from the restaurant window as Travis stepped out of a taxi across the street and hustled over to the restaurant. You were surprised that he didn’t arrive with an entourage of people, and definitely expect him to take a taxi to meet you. You looked down at what you were wearing, a simple black sweater and jeans. Travis was dressed to the nines in a full suit. Forgoing the tie, a bit of his chest hair peaked out of the slightly unbuttoned white-collar shirt he was wearing. Fuck, you were going to seem like you weren’t taking this seriously at all.

He waved at you from the hostess stand and you blushed, his perfect smile making you weak in the knees. When he arrived at the table, you stood up to give him a side hug, taking in his clean cologne scent. He shrugged his suit jacket off and settled into his seat as you fixed your sweater. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. I don’t know how to get around New York at all.”  You giggled, reassuring him with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, I just got here myself.” You opened your menu, perusing the options. You looked up after a few minutes and saw that Travis was staring at you. “Something wrong? I tried to pick a place that had a variety of options. My manager was telling me that I can be a food snob.” You were rambling, your cheeks heating up as Travis just smiled as you talked. Nothing is wrong with the restaurant. You just look really good tonight. Just admiring what’s in front of me.” The restaurant must have moved to the surface of the sun because you were burning up. “Wow, does that work on girls usually?” Travis threw his head back with a laugh. “No, but you looked so tense, I had to lighten the mood.” He shook his shoulders which made you chuckle.

Dinner quickly turned into a back and forth of stories and jokes. You were quickly building feelings for Travis, and who could blame you. He was funny, humble, and completely professional. He never made you feel uncomfortable or tried to hit on you, which was rarely the case with professional athletes.

“So, tell me what I have to do. I’m all yours.” You squeezed your thighs together at that remark, thoughts of every way you could take advantage of his generosity. “Um,” you took a sip of your drink, “we’re working with one of my favorite producers. The song is called “Woman”, it’s all about wanting to be the woman your man needs and basically seducing him through different scenes. I do want to warn you though, there is a scene where we’ll need you to dance.” You grimaced after telling Travis the concept, thinking he was going to want to back out, but he just sat there taking in the concept. “I for sure thought the dancing thing would throw you off.” “You obviously haven’t seen my touchdown celebrations. I’ve got hips that would make a salsa dancer jealous.”

When the day of the shoot arrived, you were more nervous than you thought you’d be. Your mind had been on that dinner ever since, and you had been texting back with Travis, mostly about work and the video, but he so effortlessly slid in flirty comments that gave you butterflies. You were falling for him but weren’t sure if he had similar feelings or was just a natural flirt. You decided to brush it off so you could have a successful shoot.

Travis arrived early to the set, and after you both got done with hair and makeup, you headed to the first scene, the sensual bedroom shot. You begged the producer to shoot this one first in case it went terribly, making the rest of the day would be a waste. You were both standing in the set, white robes covering your scantily clad body. You were in a leather bikini ensemble while Travis was shirtless with jeans on. “I’ve never been in a music video before.” Travis rubbed his hands together as the make-up artist took off his robe and did some quick makeup touch ups on his chest. You dropped your robe to reveal your outfit, and it took everything in Travis not to drool on the spot. You were used to wearing ridiculous outfits for music videos and performances, but you could definitely feel Travis’ eyes on you as he watched you get onto the bed.

“Alright Travis, for this scene, we’re looking for heat and passion, like the two of you haven’t seen each other for months and the sexual tension is about to erupt.” The director guided Travis through the scene. You gave Travis a funny face, mouthing that the director was a little crazy, which made him laugh. The director queued the music, which began blaring through the speakers. Travis was a natural, climbing over you, ghosting kisses over your body as he made his way up to your lips. You tried to find a place to put your hands that seemed natural, ending up hooking your fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. You hoped that Travis couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. You locked lips and for a second, you couldn’t hear anything but the breaths between the two of you. You pulled away, bringing yourself back to reality as the director yelled cut. You struggled to get up, the leather of your shorts slipping against the silk sheets on the bed. Your knee accidently brushed against Travis as you rolled over, and you could feel a growing bulge in his jeans.

He immediately noticed and his eyes were extremely apologetic. You grabbed his arm and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Dave, can we take a 15-minute break? I have to go pee and I have to be cut out of these shorts.” The director nodded before announcing to the crew. The short break would give Travis a chance to “collect” himself, and he hustled out of the room after a quiet thank you towards you. You looked for Travis and found him in his dressing room, head in his hands as he sat in front of the mirror. You gave a courteous knock on the door and peaked your head in. “Hey, can I come in?” You took his silence as approval. You sat at the chair next to his, not sure what to say. Travis broke the silence. “No question about our chemistry now, huh?” you laughed, glad he was able to see the humor in the situation. “I don’t think there was ever a question, but a girl always loves a bit of reassurance.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence before you heard a knock on the door calling you back to set. “The director said he got what he needed for the bedroom shot so we don’t have to shoot that scene anymore”, you reassured Travis. “No way. I need to redeem myself, I can be better.” You patted his shoulder. “This isn’t football, no need to redeem yourself, they’ll cut the scenes together, make it look amazing.” You began walking out of the room when Travis stopped you. “At least let me make it up to you. Show you my bedroom skills in private.” You turned back to him, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Is that your way of asking me on a date?” “Technically we went on a date two weeks ago, so this is me asking you on a second date.”

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #traviskelce #nfl smut #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine

[lieutenantfloyd]

Love is a mystery | Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal x reader

Word Count: 841

Summary: With Harry’s help, Rosie finds old hobbies and new love in post-war New York.

Warnings: Mentions, of war, implied ptsd and depression, talk of marriage and pregnancy.

Authors Note: I honestly don't know where this idea came from, but I think my brain needed something a bit fluffy after watching all nine episodes of Master of the Air in two days and crying the whole time. [This is based off of the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I have nothing but wholehearted respect for the real life individuals and situations portrayed.]

Read on AO3

In the months following their return stateside, Crosby takes a trip to see Rosie. During a nice casual lunch, he spends far too long dancing around the fact that Rosie is visibly not okay, and eventually suggests that getting back into things he enjoyed before the war will greatly help his readjustment.

Rosie briefly considered placating him with an "I'm fine, really," but he only nods, unable to lie to Crosby. 

The truth is Rosie hasn't slept one full night since his first at Thorpe Abbotts and he gladly accepts shaky hands and reddened eyes over the twilight memories of what he saw and those he's lost.

Yet, after a night of particularly bad insomnia, he takes Crosby's words to heart and heads to the library. The pen trembles against Rosie's calloused hand while he fills out the library's card application, but his voice is steady when he asks the pretty librarian for recommendations.

He's too distracted by your shiny, kind eyes to notice how you recognize the distant look in his own. contrarily, You note in your diary that night how you couldn't tell if it was sympathy or his easy charm that made your heart race wildly while suggesting some classics and mysteries that should keep his mind busy.

-

"you need to get out more, Rosie," Crosby states in a letter one day.

It just so happens that during a now routine trip to the library, Rosie notices a half-hidden flier for an Agatha Christie book club pinned to the community board.

A week later—spurred onward once more by Harry's words—he pulls himself out of bed, has a shower and shave, and attends the meeting.

The cracked glass of Rosie's brown leather watch allows him to see he's half an hour late as he ascends up the small steps in front of the building.

Designated meeting room C is quiet and mostly dark as he pulls the handle. He's three solid steps inside the door when the room's sole occupant looks up at him—you, that same librarian with those same eyes.

He barely has half a mind to choose one of the provided refreshments—a cup of black coffee dangerously close to room temperature—before sinking into one of the many empty seats. The weary but logical part of him says that this is a waste of time, but the remnants of his fun-loving side tell him that he's got nothing to lose.

He takes a sip of coffee and sinks further into his seat.

While exchanging kind pleasantries, you retrieve a well loved copy of Why Didn't They Ask Evans? from your envelope handbag. Rosie quickly follows suit and slips his own newly bought but already dog eared book out of his leather coat pocket.

"So you liked it?" you inquire with joyfully clasped hands and a voice filled with breathtaking earnestness. After nearly choking on a hefty drink of coffee and his fluttery nerves, Rosie lets a bashful smile slip past his defenses.

Ninety minutes pass completely uncounted before Rosie steps back out onto the snowy, bustling New York City streets. He quickly shuffles home, tossing his coat and book onto a chair before dropping down onto his bed. He intends to return the items to their rightful place after a short rest, though the book will find a home on his bedside table after he spots your number jotted on the inside corner in loopy, flowing handwriting.

-

Spring is well in bloom when Rosie and Harry see each other again. 

Rosie spends the following two days giving the Crosby family a tour of the best sights and eats his hometown has to offer. 

Their third evening in town has Crosby swaying his young son to the music flowing through the jazz bar while covertly helping Rosie draft his proposal speech. You and Jean are sat within arms reach, though you both pay the boys no mind as you're fully entranced by the music. The night winds on, and the draft becomes a full, completed speech. They share a coy laugh as Rosie slips the notebook back into his vest pocket, knowing that if all goes right this moment will find its way into Crosby's best man's speech.

In this smoky bar just past dinner time, they both accept that they aren't the same men they were before the war. They’d seen a hell no words could ever describe, and yet the world somehow kept turning. They escape to the bar soon after, where Harry tells him that he'll soon be a father once more. Rosie offers his congratulations and jokes that he won't be far behind. The bar is dim, but Crosby still catches a glimpse of the lighthearted playfulness returning to his friend's eyes.

You and Jean coo and fuss over the baby as the men say their goodbyes. Through an especially tight hug, they make each other a silent promise to keep holding on. If not for who they were before but for who they are—and what they have —now.

#masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #mota #mota fanfic #mota spoilers #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x reader #masters of the air imagine

[moonpascaltoo]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve rogers stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!)

MASTERLIST • MARVEL MASTERLIST • 04/16/24

: ̗̀➛ code blue by @bonky-n-steeb

✮ Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...

: ̗̀➛ oh captain my captain by @starryevermore

✮chris knows how much you enjoy captain america, so he makes sure you live out all of your fantasies. (chris evans pretending to be steve rogers)

: ̗̀➛ it’s you that i lie with by @lipstickbisous

✮pt 1- steve rogers realizes that his love for you is unparalleled, but when he chooses to return to you by the lake, he receives a certain visit from the time variance authority

: ̗̀➛ mr. perfectly fine by @sparkleofpizza

✮Hello, Mr. perfectly fine, how’s your heart after breaking mine?” - Taylor Swift (Mr. Perfectly Fine)

: ̗̀➛ @espinosaurusrexex

☾ forever, of course

✮Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.

☾ watchful eyes

✮When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

: ̗̀➛ something new by @buckyownsmylife

✮The one where Steve moved onto another woman’s arms after the blip, but now that you’re back…

: ̗̀➛ back to you by @literaryavenger

✮You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.

: ̗̀➛ hideout by @ronearoundblindly

✮Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.

: ̗̀➛ he’s just not into you by @sergeantbarnessdoll

✮Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.

: ̗̀➛ to know him is to love him by @anonymityisfunwriter

✮ to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

: ̗̀➛ airbag by @ichorai

✮ five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

: ̗̀➛ lift by @str-spangled-banner

✮ You confess to Steve that you’ve always wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift. Somehow, he agrees to do it with you.

: ̗̀➛ caught by @moonlightyeager

✮ you and steve get caught

: ̗̀➛ you’re stuck with me by @your-eternal-lies

✮ As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

: ̗̀➛ hangry by @just-another-blog-of-fluff

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers series #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don��t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

********************

Philadelphia 1938

The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.

Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.

You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.

She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.

Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.

You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.

And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.

I miss him so much.

"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.

It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.

"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.

Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.

Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.

Probably not.

You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.

You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.

"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.

I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.

"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.

"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.

"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.

Must be nice to be with someone for that long.

You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.

The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.

"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.

"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.

"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.

"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.

"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.

"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Looking for trouble." You smirk.

"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.

"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.

 Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."

"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.

"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.

You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…

And now you were with Howard.

You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.

"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.

"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.

Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.

"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.

"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.

"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.

"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.

"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"

"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."

"I have never said anything bad about your companions."

"Missy-"

"Besides her." You frown.

He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."

Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.

"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."

"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.

"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.

"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.

"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"

Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"

You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."

"He what?"

You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.

"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.

"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"

"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.

The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.

"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.

"My mother is happy-"

"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.

"Ben." You breathe.

"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.

"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.

"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.

You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.

So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.

What?

Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.

You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.

Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.

“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.

Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.

“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”

“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.

“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.

Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”

“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"

The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.

“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.

Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.

“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.

By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.

I have to do something before he kills him.

You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”

But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.

Damn it.

“Ben.” You say his name again.

His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.

“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."

Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.

A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.

Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?

Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath. 

********************************

After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.

Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.

Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.

A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.

“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."

“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”

“No she was still dancing when I left.”

Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”

“Ben-“

“What?”

“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."

“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.

“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.

“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”

Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”

You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.

“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.

You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-

You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.

"Yeah.” Ben sighs.

"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.

"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."

"What?"

"I mean you are. You're my friend-"

"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.

"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."

“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“

“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But Ben-“

“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.

What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.

“Why?”

“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”

"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.

Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?

"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"

“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.

It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.

Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.

“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.

His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.

“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.

You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.

Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?

“It was worth it.”

You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.

“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.

“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.

You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.

He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"

You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.

"A few. If you're not too tired-"

"I’m never too tired for you."

You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”

The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.

*******************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 1 MATCH 51

Yuuma propaganda:

“he can be yuor everything <3

im not even kidding like he has taken on so many different roles he can be your dream man (horse?) whatever your type is

he has

-won a race for you

-gone skiing with you

-gone to the beach with you (he can surf)

-offered you his scarf when it was cold

-rescued you from trouble (multiple occasions)

-fought his rival for you (another horse with a handsome human face)

-fed you asparagus (homemade)

-gotten a job in construction

-become a rockstar (dedicated a song to you and let you live your wattpad fanfic life)

all this i listed off the top of my head. theres probably more he has done but i just cant remember

hes very talented and treats you right ✓ experience rapturous love today”

Maxwell propaganda:

“First of all he’s a silly goofy guy AND he’s extremely loyal and will always have your back. Within hours of meeting you, he decides his family will sponsor you in the competition to become the crown prince’s bride. He falls in love with you along the way, never expecting you’d choose him, the younger brother of a bankrupted duke, over the prince himself. Maxwell supports you through scandals and assassination attempts, eventually facing down his own father Barthelemy to protect you and your child from the former duke’s scheming. All this on top of the years he spent providing for his brother’s ex and her secret son, keeping them both safe and out of harm’s way simply because he cared. He’s always thinking of his friends, making them laugh and eagerly joining their crazy plans without ever expecting anything in return. His smile hides a sensitive side, a man who lost his mother at a young age and overcame body-image issues, yet still holds insecurities about his value to others. Maxwell is a sweetheart who always tries to do the right thing, and I still think about him years after playing The Royal Romance series.

Okay so it's a mobile gacha game, let's get that out of the way. BUT LISTEN. 

The premise of the story is that the MC is a regular waitress in New York, when a foreign prince and his friends come to her table as a way to have a bachelor party for the prince who will soon have to choose a woman to marry in a The Bachelor -type of contest. MC and the prince hit it off pretty well and one of his friends, Maxwell, decides to throw in his lot with the MC, since the house the future queen is from gets a lot of perks and his family is Broke. MC goes along bc her job sucks ass and she figures why not.

BUT THEN! As the competition progresses, the MC spends a lot of time with the prince and other nobles, yes, but also with Maxwell. And Maxwell is a clown-type comic relief character for most of the time, but also genuinely sweet and considerate, and very much on the same wavelength with the equal goofball MC. What for me personally changed the game was when MC and Maxwell dance at a ball together, and the MC can say that there's no one they'd rather dance with than Maxwell. I myself chose that in a completely platonic bestie way. But he gets a bit panicky and says to be careful not to let anyone hear things like that when MC is in the running for the hand of the prince so that no one gets any wrong ideas! And I went "....ideas? 👀"

“Unlike other romancable characters, Maxwell isn't romancable until book 2 (the previous scene is in book 1, each book ~20 chapters), and unlike other romance options, you really have to have your eyes set on him in order to unlock his route, and ohhh it's so worth it! The set-up of falling for the person who brought you there to marry someone else, to choose the jester when you were meant to have the king.... exquisite. 

The dynamic between MC and Maxwell is so fun and full of genuine affection, and while other characters can dismiss Maxwell as an unserious clown, MC is very much characterised by the dialogue as Getting him and loving to express joy in life the same way he does. When MC and Maxwell can finally marry, it feels like they're really choosing their best friend to spend their lives with and are so excited about it.

I know this wrestles in a league multiple times smaller than many of the other combatants, but the Maxwell romance in genuinely one of my favourites in any video game. Give him a chance!”

#Yuuma #My Horse Prince #Maxwell Beaumont #Playchoices #The Royal Romance #choices the royal romance #Round 1 #MDDC 2

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Prologue

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Prologue Word Count: 4001 Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue

~~~

You released a tired, relieved sigh as you and the rest of the team exited the elevator and walked back into the bullpen. You'd just landed back after a week in Utah chasing a serial killer who turned out to be a mormon. He killed in the name of burning out the false children of God from humanity - literally. The Unsub managed to burn six innocent people alive before they apprehended him.

'I cannot wait to go home for a hot bath and a good glass of scotch,' Rossi said, rubbing at the kink in his neck from the sleep home on the plane.

'Ditto,' Alex said. 'James is home for the weekend, and he has promised me some home made pie that I am very much looking forward to.'

You smiled as you reached your desk, the echo of the others adding to the conversation of what they were looking forward to when they got home warming the usually busy room as they passed you. A sense of comfort and relief washed over you as you placed your go-bag on your desk. Hearing all your friends' voices back in the office after a mission was never a guarantee, so you relished every time you heard them, regardless of the conversation.

You looked up when a figure entered your peripheral vision, and that comfort and warm feeling spread further through you when you saw who it was.

'What about you, Y/N?' Spencer said by way of greeting, a soft smile gracing his own tired features. 'What is waiting for you at home on this fine Friday evening?'

You paused to think about it for a second, a content smile tugging at your lips at the thought. 'Well, unless I've been robbed in the last few days, I will be enjoying a nice glass of moscato while I order pasta from the restaurant below my apartment, and snuggle in with my book that I've spent literally months trying to finish,' you said dreamily, the thought of good food and good wine and a good book sounding almost too good to be true. But Garcia had informed the team before landing that no new cases had been submitted and so you had the weekend to yourselves.

'That all?' he asked, amusement dancing on his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. 'I know. First Friday night home in DC in a while and I am choosing to stay at home instead. The utter shame of it all.'

You both laughed, and it pleased you to see his amber eyes light up after the long week you'd had.

'I didn't mean that as a bad thing,' Spencer said, brushing a stray curl from out of his eyes. Even though it was the shortest length it'd ever been, some rogue curls still managed to dangle out of confinement every once in a while. 'What book are you reading?'

'Don't laugh at me, but... The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.'

Spencer's brow furrowed curiously. 'Why would I laugh? I love Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's work.'

You shrugged, casually leaning against your desk as you crossed your arms. 'I know, it just seems a little silly that a federal agent is reading some old detective stories.'

'Actually, Doyle was one of the forefathers of detective fiction, as he brought in the concept that the science of deduction isn't just physical evidence but psychological observations. He created a space where all the sciences we know today can help in solving crime, and actually paved the way for more psychological avenues to be taken more seriously in academia and law enforcement. If you think about it, without Sherlock, you and I may not have our jobs as profilers right now.' Spencer paused when he realised he was rambling, and despite your soft, encouraging smile, he saw the tired blankness in your eyes.

Spencer licked his lips before speaking again. 'What I'm trying to say is... I don't think it's silly at all.'

You nodded your thanks although you knew you didn't need to. 'So what about you?', you asked in return. 'What will entertain Dr. Spencer Reid on this "fine Friday evening"?'

His words repeated back to him kept the smile on his face, more importantly the life in his eyes. But he began to fiddle with the strap of his satchel bag, and you couldn't help but notice he slightly swayed. Like he was nervous or something. It was cute.

He was cute.

You forced the rising heat in your cheeks to stay underneath the surface to not give away your embarrassment or your inner thoughts. Thoughts you'd been having since the day you'd met him six years ago. Thoughts that you'd suppressed so as to not interfere with your work, and then later so it wouldn't ruin your hard-built friendship.

When he told you about Maeve, you'd had mixed feelings. Of course, you'd been ecstatic for him that he'd found someone he could be himself with, and even more so when he disclosed to you that no one else knew about her - just you. But you couldn't deny the twinge of sadness that pulled at your heart knowing that that someone he could be himself with wasn't you.

But you hadn't hesitated, hadn't faltered when he'd needed a shoulder to cry on when Maeve was killed. Once he decided to open up and accept help, you were first in line to help keep the young doctor afloat in his sea of grief and loss.

It's been over a year since Maeve's death now, and while she would always remain important in his heart, he had, for the most part, moved on, slowly getting back to be his usual, quirky, logical self.

The past year and a bit has only brought you two closer together, and as much as you have tried to hide how amazing that makes you feel, you've had plenty of conversations with Penelope and others on the team about finally asking the boy wonder out. It's not like you didn't want to, but if Maeve was his type of girl, you just weren't sure you were what Spencer was looking for in a romantic partner. Besides, you were happy with your friendship.

It was by far the most precious relationship you had aside from your family - why ruin it?

You quickly realised you'd both been silent for a while, Spencer still not having answered your question yet. 'Spence?' you prompted gently.

The cute doctor managed to grasp his satchel strap fiercely and ground himself back in the present. 'R-Right. I too have a book at home. The one you got me for my birthday, actually.'

'Oh yes!' The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes. You'd been hooked from the first line, and by the time you finished, all you could think about was how much you thought Spencer would enjoy it. So you instantly wrapped up your own personal copy and waited for Spencer's birthday to roll around. You never told him it was yours, you just hoped he didn't notice the slight bend in the spine or minuscule tears in some pages from you flipping them too quickly. 'I've been meaning to ask you if you enjoyed it or not. I just assumed you'd read it already.'

'We've just been so busy with cases lately. I haven't had time to even consider picking it up.'

You rolled your eyes. 'Come on, we both know you could've finished that book on one of our plane rides.'

He shrugged, eyes dipping for a moment before landing back on you. 'I know. I guess... I just wanted to give it the time and attention it deserved,' he settled on, and the honesty in both his words and his eyes threatened to steal your breath.

A silence that rested between comfortable and awkward settled upon you two. This had happened many times in recent weeks although you weren't quite sure why. Regardless of your hidden feelings and the tragedy of Maeve, neither of you lost your comfortability with one another.

'So... we've both got book dates tonight,' you said in an attempt to break the silence. The rest of the team was still chatting just a little away from them, but it felt like it was just the two of you sometimes when you talked.

'Well, actually, maybe...' Spencer started, and his fingers were twitching again. 'I was wondering if maybe you'd want t-to bring your book over and... join me, tonight.'

The request wasn't an unusual one. In fact, you'd conducted your own mini book club between the two of you on plenty of occasions. Mainly because you both found out you were the kind of people that liked your personal time and space, but didn't like the thought of being completely alone. This wasn't new, but it warmed your heart all the same at the gesture.

'That sounds great, Spence!' you said heartily. 'Give me half an hour and I'll be around at yours-'

'Actually,' Spencer interrupted, 'I was thinking we could grab some dinner together first. You know, like at a restaurant or some place you can sit in at.'

'...Like a date?' you asked softly, breathlessly. The words just kind of slipped from you before you even contemplated how they would affect Spencer. It just felt natural and right.

Your heart pounded like a jackhammer between your ribs, but you were more concerned at what expression Spencer would pull in the next five seconds.

To your relief, he smiled that small little smile of his that spoke volumes of his insecurity but also of his genuine intentions. 'Yeah. I guess it is like a date,' he finally replied.

Oh my goodness. He was nervous. His words were rushed and higher-pitched in tone. but you still managed to understand him, as well as what dinner implied.

A half-smile pulled at your lips. 'Dr. Spencer Reid,' you began softly, half-scared, half-excited to speak the words you'd been holding back for so long. 'Are you asking me out on a date right now?'

At your words, his anxiety seemed to disappear, as he stopped fidgeting with the satchel strap and took a daring step closer to you. 'I guess I am.'

You couldn't stop it now, the smile of pure joy you'd been holding back from splitting your face open. After years of suffering silently, of repressing the truth, it was all worth it for that one question.

'So what do you say, SSA Y/N L/N,' he quipped cheekily. 'Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?'

The answer was right there in the tip of your tongue, almost spewing from you, when your name was called out across the bullpen for all to hear.

The globe of silence and serenity that had built around Spencer and yourself suddenly shattered as you both, alongside the rest of the team, turned to Hotch standing in his office doorway. But while you all looked at him, his hard gaze was honed in on you.

'L/N,' he called again, having your attention now. 'Can I see you in my office, please?'

You looked between him and Spencer, unsure who to answer first. In the end, you were still technically on the clock so you nodded at your boss and said, 'Sure, I'll be in there shortly.'

'This can't wait, I'm sorry.'

It was the seriousness and discomfort in his voice that caused you to throw aside your personal agenda, giving Spencer an apologetic look before quickly making your way through the bullpen, up the stairs and into his office. You tried not to look at your team too much as you did, but you felt their gazes on the back of your head nevertheless.

They were just as confused as you were, then.

'Close the door,' Hotch instructed gently, to which you obliged. He pointed to the seat on the other side of his desk. 'Have a seat.'

'Everything okay, Hotch?' you asked, taking a seat in the chair. 'Oh no. Did I make an error in one of my reports again?'

'No, nothing like that,' he reassured you, which didn't help your already built up worry. For a moment, it was just you two sitting in his office in silence; you waited for him to explain his mysterious actions, while he seemed to struggle to find the right words.

He never struggled to find the right words.

You leaned forward in your seat, worry furrowing your brow. 'Hotch. What's wrong?'

'Nothing is wrong, so to say,' he insisted, but his frown remained. 'I've just been in contact with your old unit chief from Organised Crime. They believe there is an underground operation being conducted by gang leaders in Manhattan that involves the transporting, selling and purchasing of girls and women in the prostitute industry.'

'Okay,' you drawled out, more confused than ever. 'What has this got to do with us?'

'It doesn't,' Hotch answered immediately. 'Just you. Your old unit chief wants you back to go undercover in the case.'

'What?' You stood up from your seat instead of shouting, but goodness it took all your strength not to. 'Why do they need me? They have a whole squadron of agents to choose from.'

'They want a profiler to help them find out who these people are first, then go undercover and become part of the operation's inner circle and report back to them,' Hotch explained, although his tone displayed his displeasure in saying so. 'Y/N, you have more experience in undercover missions than anyone else on this team, even before you joined us as a profiler.'

You knew his words to be true, but the reality of it all was an ever-growing weight on your chest. 'What they are asking, Hotch, could take weeks, months even. Those kind of people will not trust so easily,' you tried reasoning with him.

You couldn't help but look through the blinds to your team still standing and talking outside in the bullpen. To Spencer, who had joined the team since you had left, but just looked at the window as if he could find out what was going on behind the glass and blinds if he looked long enough. It broke your heart to think you wouldn't see him for months, maybe even years.

Because that was the thing with undercover missions. Once you assumed the life of someone else, your old life became non-existent. That meant no contact with anyone outside of the case as a safety precaution.

That meant no talking to Spencer, or anyone in the BAU, until the case ended. Or unless you were killed, in which case you wouldn't be able to do a lot of talking anyways.

You turned back around at the sound of Hotch standing from his seat and coming around the desk to speak directly in front of you, no walls to hide behind. 'You know I wouldn't be asking if I hadn't tried to change their mind first. But even I can't argue that you are the best agent for the job.'

You nodded your understanding even if you hated to admit he was right. 'I guess it's not one of those jobs that I can decline, is it?'

Hotch shook his head regrettably. 'Head Chief requested for you personally. You've already been taken off the roster here at the BAU so you're not disturbed by other cases.'

Hearing that was just rubbing salt in the wound, and you hated the burning feeling of tears rising at the back of your eyes. You were already gone from here, like a ghost that didn't realise she was one to begin with.

Hotch's hand rested heavy on your shoulder as he comforted you. 'We can discuss your return to work when your mission is over. You will always have a place with us, Y/N.'

You attempted a smile, but it was strained as you tried to force back tears. You wiped at the strays that dribbled down your cheeks, pulling yourself back together before speaking again. 'All right. How long do I have before I am expected in the Big Apple?'

'There's someone waiting for you at your apartment already. They'll take you to their headquarters when you're done packing tonight.'

You sucked in air as you felt your whole world tilt unstably. Tonight. You had to leave tonight. Again, you found yourself seeking out Spencer through the half-closed blinds.

'So what do you say, SSA Y/N L/N? Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?'

You bit your lip as you blinked your tears away, trying but failing to ignore the cry of your heart as its strings were pulled harshly. 'Tonight?' you asked in the hope you'd misheard.

But no such hope existed, unfortunately.

'Yes,' Hotch said, that one word the final nail in the coffin of your impending suffering. 'I'm sorry. This goes without saying, but don't mention any of this to the team as you leave. Only myself and Section Chief Cruz will know where you are and the details of your mission.'

You huffed out a joyless laugh. 'Hiding truths from a team of profilers is like playing poker with a mirror attached to your face,' you said, and you didn't bother to hide your displeasure and sadness when you did. 'They're going to ask questions, and they will find out the truth eventually.'

'Let me worry about that,' Hotch said gently, letting go of you and leaving a cold mark where his hand once was. 'You've got bags to pack.'

'Right.' You sucked in a few deep breaths before making your way to the door. tears burned at your eyes again but you couldn't let the team see you like this. You couldn't let Spencer see you like this.

Because you had a job to do. And you always finished a job.

Before you could open the door handle, however, Hotch stopped you once more. 'Y/N.'

You looked at him, forcing an expression of blankness and indifference. 'Yes, sir?'

He must've seen your inner struggle, as he offered one of those genuine smiles of his that were oh so rare. 'We'll see you when you get back,' he said.

It wasn't a promise or a done deal, but it was the most hope you could ask for right now. So you smiled your thanks, nodded your goodbye, and opened the door back into the bullpen.

Immediately, all eyes set upon you and the room grew quiet. Your first instinct was to cry, then to run, then to blurt everything out because you hated keeping secrets. But you remembered what had just been said, and you whipped a bright smile onto your face to hide your despair.

'Don't you guys have homes to go to?' you asked cheerily, walking down the stairs as casually as possibly. You would've bee-lined for your bag, but if you moved too quickly they would suspect something. 'I recall hot baths and scotch were awaiting most of us, are they not?'

Thankfully Rossi took the bait, and picked up his go-bag in a huge huff. 'The lady is right. I spend enough time with you people as is, I am not wasting anymore not drinking and soaking.'

'Soaking in what? The bath or scotch?' JJ asked, also picking up her go-bag to make her way back to the elevator.

The group devolved into laughs and other jests, and you breathed a sigh of relief as you picked up your go-bag and followed them. Before you could though, a gentle call of your name halted you in your tracks, out of both politeness and frozen fear.

'Hey,' Spencer started, looking between you and Hotch's office. 'What was all that about?'

'Oh, uh, nothing super important,' you said, scrambled as you words were. 'Just a paperwork issue. Again.'

He broke out in smile that set your heart aflutter despite your inner turmoil. 'You know, you really shouldn't do paperwork on the plane when you're tired if you're just going to make a mistake. You're better off leaving it to the morning when your brain and body has rested enough to comprehend what the paperwork is asking of you.'

'Well sorry if I don't want to do a mountain of paperwork when I come back into the office,' you countered, grateful for the playful distraction as you made it over to the elevator. The others were just piling in when Spencer halted you again.

'So...' he dragged out, eyes flickering between you and teh floor nervously, '...what do you say?'

'To what?' you asked.

'To dinner. You didn't have time to give me an answer before.'

Shit. Your voice failed you now as you grasped at words - any words - to tell him. Your heart screamed yes, but there was someone waiting for you back home. A home you wouldn't be visiting for who knows how long.

Capitalising on your gaping mouth, you forced out a yawn and feigned covering it up out of embarrassment. 'Oh my goodness, sorry about that. Um, actually, now that you mention it, I am pretty beat. I'm just... going to go home and sleep it off if that's all right.'

It pained you to see his smile drop at your words, to see the hope leave his beautiful eyes at your rejection. And you knew you shouldn't say anything or make promises you couldn't keep, but you couldn't just leave him with no hope.

'Maybe next week sometime,' you offered, hoping your smile could bring some of that light back. 'You know, you've never tried the Italian Restaurant under my apartment before. We could go there. On me.'

Instinctively, you reached for his hand, relishing in the warmth it held and brought into you. To your relief, he didn't pull away. Instead, you got your smile back, and a little light returned to his eyes. You were kind of glad you wouldn't be around when the light left him completely.

'Okay,' he said softly, surprising you with a gentle squeeze of your hand in his. 'It's a date.'

'Yeah,' you replied, trying and failing to push aside the fluttering sensation his words gave your heart. You were only prolonging not only your pain, but his.

Selfish. So selfish.

'Come on, you two,' Derek called out from the elevator. 'I can't hold these doors open forever. Savannah will kill me if I miss our dinner reservations.'

You both quickly made it in to the elevator before Derek let them close on you, and then you were caught up in the chaos that was your team. You weren't sure how you got onto the topic of what scotch goes best with what foods, but you didn't care. It made you happy to know they never let the weight of a dark case get in the way of living their own lives to them fullest.

You all reached the car park and before you could make a run for your car, Spencer called out to you. 'See you Monday, Y/N!'

You turned back around to face not only him, but Derek, JJ, Penelope, Alex, and David as they all slowly went for their cars too.

You caught yourself staring at them, taking their happy faces in one last time before you left them behind. Hotch said you'd always have a place with the BAU, but you weren't sure how long this mission would take. And if you'd be replaced by then.

You forced a smile onto your face and waved them farewell. 'Yeah, see you then.'

You hated the bitter taste the lie brought to your mouth, but you managed to keep it together long enough that you got in your car and drove out of the car park without any more issues. That's when the tears came.

You wouldn't be there next Monday, and were not getting that date with Spencer next week.

It hurt you more to think that you may not get that date at all.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #romance #angst #david rossi #derek morgan #jason gideon #jennifer jareau #slowburn #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #alex blake #kate callahan #mafia #detective #fbi #fbi investigation #friends to lovers #mateo cruz

[absurdthirst]

Religious Corruption: The Path to Righteousness

Professor!Dave York x Virgin!F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.4k

Warnings: Religion kink, corruption kink, innocence kink, age gap, unbalanced power dynamic, grooming (?), professor/student relationship, blasphemy, anal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, feelings, sex toys, nipple clamps, overstimulation, cock rings, multiple orgasms, breath play, gagging, mentions of safe words/procedures, derogatory language, arguments, disownment

Comments: Dave discovers that he allows you more leeway that anyone else, letting you stay with him and dictate things. Making him wonder why as your own feelings for him become obvious.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

!!Additional Warnings!! - There are themes in this fic that might be disturbing to some. Religion/Power Dynamics/Age Gap - consume at your own risk.

|| MasterList || Religious Corruption MasterList ||

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The rhythmic humming from the radio made you tap your feet, slightly swaying your hips as you stared down at the recipe book in front of you. Dave had texted you just before your bible study session and asked if you wanted to stay at his for the weekend and of course you immediately responded yes and asked if you could cook for him and now a few hours later here you are, obsessing over a carbonara recipe you’ve made dozens of times.

He’s sitting in the corner of the room, going through a small stack of marking that he had said he wanted to do this evening so the whole weekend could be spent with you.

Looking up from a paper, Dave smirks as he watches you dance by yourself in his kitchen as you cook. You’ve gotten comfortable here, since you spend a lot of time here with him. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Sorry,” you say with a giggle, “I didn’t mean to distract you.” You move around his kitchen with ease, already aware of where everything lives and you pull out a pot and fill it up with water ready for the pasta. 

“Sure you didn’t.” He snorts and smirks at you before looking back down at his papers. “You aren’t hoping one of these papers are yours and I give you a high mark because you’re shaking your ass in front of me.”

“Will that work?” You say, as you start working on the sauce. “Can I fuck my way to an A?”

“Depends on how you want to fuck me to that A.” Dave jokes as he looks up again and grins.

“How would you want me to?” You feel your face heat up a little as you ask, but you can’t deny your confidence has grown since losing your virginity.

“Nasty.” He chuckles. “The dirtiest, filthiest sex you can imagine, sweetheart. Tell me what you’d do.”

“Oh,” you say, before thinking about it. “I would ride you, in your office. During office hours and then drip your cum as you lecture us about virtue and making good choices.”

He smirks and waggles his brows. “I can make that happen. No panties. You smear my cum on your seat like the dirty little whore you are.”

“A dirty little whore?” You say as you raise an eyebrow, “Now, who turned me into one of those? And tell me… what’s the filthiest sex you can imagine?” 

He chuckles and eyes you with dark eyes. “Do you really want to know?” He asks softly.

“I do.” You break the pasta and dump it in the salted and now boiling water before turning your full attention back to him. “Tell me.”

“Bending you over that table, spitting on your little puckered hole and pressing my thumb inside while I just wreck your sweet little pussy and fill it full of my cum.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask quietly, “Do we have time before the pasta cooks?” Your body reacts visibly to his words and you know he can see your breath hitch as you think about what he said, eyes darting over to the kitchen table as the image starts to play out in your head.

“Do you think I would hurt you?” He asks, frowning slightly at the idea.

“No,” you admit honestly, “No one has ever touched me there before though.” You know he already knows this, he’s the only person to have ever touched you… to have kissed you. “I like being overwhelmed by you.”

“You know you can say no, right?” He tosses his pen down and stands, already half hard from the idea of debauching you even more. “Anytime.”

“I know. But I also know that I don’t want to say no to you.”

“Take your panties off and bend over the island.” Dave orders, voice rough and laced with lust.

“Kiss me first,” you say, each word dripping with an obvious desperation to feel his lips against yours. “Please.”

He moves over to you, aware that he should deny you, show you who is in charge. Aware that there’s been a slight shift in the way he deals with the girls he fucks. Pushing it out of his mind, he drags you close and immediately plunders your mouth ruthlessly in a hot kiss.

You smile against his mouth, unable to stop yourself as he shoves his tongue into yours. It’s not a long kiss but it’s enough to leave you breathless, the kind of kiss that has your lips tingling afterwards. The second he pulls back you’re obeying his order, hitching up your dress and pulling down your panties.

“You should just shed your panties at the door.” He chuckles, turning you around and squeezing your ass with both hands.

“You’d just add them to your rapidly growing collection and I’ve got to keep some,” you giggle, before gasping at his deliciously rough treatment of you. “Something tells me that you wouldn’t be happy knowing I'm sitting in Mr. Redgraves lectures without any panties on.”

“Fuck that asshole.” Dave slaps your ass and shakes his head. “Better yet, don’t fuck him, you only fuck me. No one else.” He growls possessively, surprising even himself from the ferocity of his tone.

“You’re the only person I want to fuck, only person that’s ever touched me,” you say as you start to drip down your legs, loving how rough he’s being. “I’m all yours, Dave. Just yours.”

He’s never been a possessive man, not with the girls that he’s chosen to corrupt. Using them until he’s done with them and then cutting them loose is his routine. But the idea of someone else touching you pisses him off. “Good.” He kicks your feet wide and presses your breasts against the marble of the counter.

You let him mould your body into position, wondering if he’ll say anything about the way you’ve soaked your thighs from the anticipation of his touch alone. “I belong to you,” you whisper, listening as he unbuckles his belt, “Just you.”

“Good girl.” He hums. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you say with a breathy moan, “Yours.”

“You should be on your knees in church.” He grunts. “But you’d rather be on your knees for me.”

You groan as he starts to push inside of you, enamoured by the way overwhelms you in the most delicious way. “Yes, Dave,” you moan, “I’d commit every sin to please you, suck your cock during service... I’d do anything.”

“Might have to do that.” He groans, imagining your mouth around his cock while the priest drones on. He twitches inside you. 

“Please,” you beg, moaning as your walls tightly hug his twitching cock. “Fuck me, Dave, I wanna feel you leak out of me as I finish cooking your dinner.”

His answer is to do exactly what he told you he would do. He spreads your cheeks apart so he can spit on your other hole. Watching is slide down and hums in satisfaction.

“Ohh Dave,” you gasp, as he spits on your tightest hole. Your pussy clamping down hard around him at his filthy little action, “Fuck.”

His thumb swipes through the spit and he starts to massage your sphincter. “Fuck, you like this?” He asks, starting to rock his hips.

Words fail you as he pushes up against that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, “L-love it.”

Humming, he presses a little harder as he massages your hole, watching your cheeks try to flutter but his other hand holds them apart. “Yeah?” He groans. “Filthy thing.”

“Lie to me,” you beg, as he drives himself in and out of your cunt with vigour, playing with your puckered hole and making you come apart on his kitchen table, “Tell me you’re mine too.”

“I’m yours.” He groans, the words slipping out of his mouth easier than they should have. “All yours, baby, fuck, I’m all yours.” He promises, breaching your hole and feeling the tight ring of muscles suck him in.

You cum devastatingly hard at his words, clamping down around him so tightly that his rhythm slips and he stutters behind you. The feeling of his thumb inside of your tight little hole a little sore but you find yourself like the way it feels. Loving that he’s the only person to have touched you everywhere and content on letting him continue to take you however he pleases. “All mine,” you pant, “Fill up my little pussy, it belongs to you anyway.”

“Shit.” He hisses, clenching his teeth and he starts to rail you. Ramming your hips into the counter as he fucks into you just as hard and as deep as he can. Keeping his thumb buried in your ass and enjoying how much tighter is makes your already tight pussy feels. “My pussy, my fucking cunt, my little whore.” He babbles as he fucks you.

“Yours,” you chant over and over, as he keeps his promise and he wrecks you. Every slam of his hips designed to split you open, to make you feel nothing but him for long after he’s pulled out of you. “Only yours.”

He knows the pasta is boiling and he needs to let you get back to cooking, but he’s not stopping until your cunt has milked him dry and you’ve screamed his name. “Mine.” He snarls.

It takes you by surprise as you’re coming apart around him again, the possessive tone in which he claims you as his throwing you over that edge as he doubles down on his thrusts. Fucking you rougher than the previous times, slamming the air from your lungs and clearing your head of any thoughts that aren’t of him.

You don’t scream, but he feels you cum and it’s good enough. Another four or five thrusts has him pushing deep, groaning your name and filling your pussy full, just like you had wanted. Grinding deep while he spills inside you.

You love it. You love the way his cock throbs as it releases rope after rope of cum. You love the way your pussy sucks around him and greedily pulls him back in when he rolls his hips. You love the filth he spits down at you as  pleasure rips through him and you love the way your bodies seem to fit each others perfectly. “You’re all mine,” you mumble quietly, unsure if he’d be able to hear it over the grunts and groans he’s still spilling out of his lips.

Dave continues to grind into you until every drop of his cum pumps inside you and then he stills. Looking down and admiring the filthy scene, he enjoys the way you moan quietly when he moves his thumb inside you and twitches in response. “Nasty enough for you, little girl?” He asks with a low groan.

“Yes,” you murmur into the marble counter, slumped over in pure bliss. “You are amazing.”

He stays like that for another moment, admiring the view and his hand slides from your butt cheeks to caress your side gently.

“Gonna fall asleep like this if I don’t move soon ,” you say with a giggle, “Let me cook for you.” 

“I guess.” He huffs playfully and starts to slowly pull his thumb out of you and the pulls out of you to watch his cum drip for a moment.

You feel his eyes on you, the soft grunts he makes as he stares at your exposed core makes you flutter around nothing. “Dave,” you say softly.

“Hmmmm?” He tears his eyes away and pulls back, turning you around and kissing you once more.

“I really like staying here with you,” you say before pushing your lips back against his and then taking a step back. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I like you being here too.” It’s true, he likes having you tinker around his house, cooking or just dancing around while you are supposed to be working on your studies.

You smile at his unexpected admission, honestly thinking he’d make a remark that would have you rolling your eyes or he’d just slap your ass. You stir the pasta and turn up the heat, glad to see it hasn’t stuck to the pan and you start heating up the sauce. “How much more marking do you have left?” 

“Not too much.” Dave tucks his cock back into his pants and moves over to wash his hands in the sink. “Then I’m all yours for the rest of the weekend.” He should take you back to your dorm, but he doesn’t want to. Rather have you here with him.

“That sounds perfect… What do you have planned for me Professor?” You wink before stirring the sauce.

Smirking, he leans against the counter and watches you as you continue to make dinner. It’s interesting how at home you feel in his house, how comfortable he feels with you here. Just last weekend you had found a chair that you had said would be perfect for you to sit in and read while he graded papers. He hadn’t bought it, but it was tempting. “You’ll just have to find out, won’t you. Maybe a lesson in patience.”

“And what if I don’t want to be taught a lesson in patience?”A smile spreads across your face as you turn to look at him, your heart fluttering as you take him in.

“Then I’m going to spank your ass while you are warming my cock.” Dave tells you, lifting a brow.

“You make promises like that and I'm definitely going to burn your dinner,” you say before wrapping your arms around his neck, “I really really mean it when I say I love being here with you.”

“Finish dinner.” Dave pats your ass, unable to admit that he would want you here all the time if it wouldn’t be suspicious. He kisses you quickly and smirks. “Otherwise we won’t eat.”

“Trust me… You’ll be eating,” you say with a grin, surprised at how confident you’re being.

“You think I’m going to eat your pussy?” Dave asks. “Maybe I should give a lecture on it one day? How to Biblically eat pussy.”

“I know you are,” you say as you start to drain the pasta. “And no, I don’t need to see Deandra throw herself at you any harder than she already does.”

He chuckles, amused by your jealousy. He would have never chosen Deandra for his class pet, simply because of his she throws herself at him. “Jealousy is a sin.” He warns playfully.

“Shut up. I’m not jealous,” you say, a little annoyed at just the thought of her digging her nails into him. “Do you want extra cheese?”

“Hmm huh.” He’s doubtful of that, but he doesn’t comment further. “Please.”

You giggle a little at the expression on his face that clearly reads him not believing you, before dishing out his meal with an extra sprinkling of cheese. “Eat up, old man.”

“Old man.” He scoffs and shakes his head. “How often are you the one passed out before me?”

“Shut up,” you repeat with a louder giggle. “Can’t help that you insist on fucking me into a coma.”

“Would you rather I not fuck you into a coma?” He asks with a smirk.

“You already know the answer to that,” you say before taking a large bite of your dinner.

“Considering you want me to fuck you all the time, I say that you like it.” He’s proud of that, winking at you.

“What can I say, I like being near you,” you say with a cute scrunch of your nose. “I have a question for you.” 

“What’s that?” You are a good cook, made even better by the ability to do what you want. He takes a large bite of his meal and groans happily.

“What is something I can do for you?” You ask a little timidly, “Something you’ve always wanted but never done.”

Dave chews slowly and contemplates that as he eats. Watching you watch him, those doe innocent eyes hopeful and eager to please. “Suck my cock while I eat, while I work.” He decides. “While you have a toy buzzing away inside you.”

“I don’t have any toys,” you say a little worried you’ll disappoint him, “I can’t have anything like that in my dorm… If they find it they’ll tell my parents.”

“I’ll buy you a toy,” Dave decides. “We’ll go after we eat.”

“Okay.” You take a few more bites of your food, a little bit of anxiety building up in your stomach as you do so. “Thank you.”

“Do you like the idea of a toy?” He asks, noticing that you seem a little uneasy.

“Yes,” you admit, “I’ve never been shopping for one before, so i’m a little clueless. I don’t want something as big as you. I like it when you’re the one to stretch me like that.”

“We won’t get you anything you don’t like.” He promises. “We can take our time and find some for you to use in the dorm too. I’ll call you and listen to you use it.”

“Dirty,” you tease before finishing up your dinner, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Do you want to clean up and then we will go?” Dave asks.

“Yes sir,” you say with a wink. Taking both of your plates over to the counter and beginning to load them into the dishwasher.

“Brat.” He huffs, shaking his head at you fondly.

You finish loading the dishwasher with a big smile on your face, “You ready?”

“Food put away?” He asks, finishing his last papers and standing up to walk over to you.

“Yeah, all done.” The counter is gleaming and everything has been put away in the refrigerator. “Just waiting on you.”

“Waiting on me?” He snags the keys and his wallet out of the drawer he sets them in and smirks. “Let’s go buy you toys.”

The car ride isn’t terribly long, and he lets you quiz him on some parts of his life that he’s kept secret thus far and you decide not to pry anymore. Instead you reach over and rest your hand on his thigh, giving it the occasional squeeze as you listen to the music.

He takes you to a store that is a little farther away so there is less of a chance of running into someone you know. The sign is discreet and he smirks once he parks. “I know it doesn’t look like a toy shop, but it is.”

“The windows are grayed out? Are you sure it’s occupied?” You ask, clearly puzzled.

“It’s so people can’t see the scandalous items inside.” He chuckles and opens his door to step out of the car.

“Oh.” Following his lead you step out of the car and walk over to him. Nerves floating around your tummy as you approach the store. “Some might think you’d enjoy corrupting me, Dave.”

“Figured it out, huh?” He means it as a joke and knows you will take it as one.

“Mhmm,” you giggle, before pressing a very quick kiss to the tip of his shoulder.

He guides you into the store and stops just inside the door to watch your reaction.

Your eyes widen as you look around the room, and your hand finds his. You entangle your fingers and squeeze hard before taking a step forward.

“It’s okay. I���m here with you.” He promises. “We can go look at whatever you want to.”

You take a few more steps, eyes scanning the shelves before something catches your eyes. Two small clamps with a matching chain.

He hums as he watches you step towards a display before you stop yourself. “Nipple clamps?” He asks with a smirk. “Those would be good.”

You pick them up and test the weight in your hands, before looking back at him and nodding. “These.”

“I want you to wear these one day to class.” He tells you, taking the clamps from to hold onto.

You raise an eyebrow at him and giggle, “Whatever you want. What should we look at? What are you thinking?”

“I want to get you a lipstick vibrator and a dildo.”

“Okay,” you say before biting down on your lip, “Lead the way.”

He looks around at the signs and guides you towards the vibrators first. Wanting your opinion on the small, discreet options for you to take home. He might even get one to use on you at his house too.

“They do room checks,” you say quietly, “If they find something, anything, they’ll inform my parents. I need it to be small.”

“Like this?” He points out a vibrator that is the size of a lipstick tube and looks like it up close.

You pick it up and a smile immediately spreads across your face, “Ye-yeah, I like this one.”

“Then that’s the one you will take back to your dorm.” He hums. “And pick out one for the house.”

“You want me to pick one?” You say, a little surprised. Your eyes scan over the selection, avoiding the ones that look big enough the rip you open and you settle on a small glass pinkish dildo. “I like this one.”

“You want glass? It won’t be flexible.” He cautions as he picks it up and feels the weight and shape of it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you scramble, feeling a little embarrassed. “Maybe you should pick.”

“No,” he shakes his head and hands the dildo to you. “It should be what you want. If you want glass, that’s fine. There’s no wrong answer.”

“It’s not as big as you,” you say quickly, “You’re thicker and longer and I like the real thing. I want something that’ll leave me wanting you even more.” You admit, feeling a little embarrassed at your own admission.

He smirks at your confession and nods. “Then let’s look over here at these.” He doesn’t let you put the other dildo up, he wants you to compare them. “How about this?”

“Silicone Rabbit?” You ask, “Oh, so it moves?”

“Yes it does. Vibrates and moves.”

You gently nuzzle your face into the top of his arm and nod a few times, “Okay babe. Let’s try that one then.”

“Why are you being so shy?” Dave chuckles and shakes his head, even though he loves it. “You will have fun when I’m making you cum with these.”

You nuzzle your face into his arm again and giggle, “Daaaaave, we need to get you something.” 

“What do you want to get me?” His brow raises in interest, wondering where your mind is going.

You shrug before taking a few steps, looking at everything you occasionally stopping to pick something up before popping it back down. “This looks good,” you say with a grin, passing him the small box containing a vibrating cock ring. “I think a sex swing is a little too much for my first visit here.”

“A cock ring?” He snorts and holds it up. If it weren’t for your shy grin, he would immediately say no. “Do you know what this does?” He asks.

“No,” you admit, trying not to show him that you’re a little defeated by his reaction. “I thought it would make you feel good.”

“It will make me feel good, baby girl.” He coos quietly, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “A cock ring makes it harder to cum because it restricts blood flow. I can fuck you longer with it on. Do you want that? Me to really wreck your little pussy?”

“Yes,” you say, feeling your panties dampen at the thought of it. “God, I need it. Do you want that?”

“Yes I do.” He chuckles. “We will save it for next weekend.” He decides. “Because you will need two days to recover.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, before rocking up on your tiptoes and kissing his lips, “I really like being yours.”

“You do, huh?” He smirks and shakes his head. “If your priest could see you right now, he would be very disappointed.”

“I’ll make sure I spend a little extra time on my knees to make up for it,” you giggle, before pulling him towards the cashier.

“Nothing else? Edible panties?” He waggles his brows at you playfully.

“Not this time, babe.” You say testing out the term of the endearment for the second time and seeing how he responds to it. “Let’s get back to your place and I might let you fuck me again.”

“Might let me?” He growls, frowning at you.

“Might.” You reply playfully before adorably scrunching up you nose and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Definitely.”

“Good girl.” Dave pats your ass as the two of you walk towards the registers.

“Good evening, sir” the girl behind the desk greets Dave with, completely ignoring your existence. “Did you find everything you were looking for or do you need any assistance?”

“Found everything we need.” He smirks and sets the four items down on the counter. “Thank you though.”

Feeling a little jealous, you press yourself up against his side and rest your head on his shoulder, a display that you’re unsure Dave will be happy about but figuring the punishment will involve something that’ll have you dripping arousal down your thighs.

He hums when he feels you snuggle up to him, amused by the possessiveness he sees in your actions. “We’re planning on having a very good evening.” He chuckles, nodding to the purchases. “Why don’t you go pick out a flavored lube, baby girl?”

“Banana,” you say almost immediately, not wanting to move from him. “You have some over there right?” Pointing towards the stash behind the counter. 

The girl frowns and turns around to grab the lube and slaps it down on the counter in front of you.

“Thanks,” you say with a smirk.

“Cash or credit?” She scoffs, and you begin to reach into your handbag, “Cash.”

Dave reaches out and stops you, shaking his head. “I’ll pay for it.” He tells you, not wanting you to pay for these toys. “Put your money away, baby girl.”

“You don’t have to pay babe,” you say with a shake of your head, but he’s swiping his card before you can stop him. “Thank you.”

“Of course I’m paying.” He snorts, “I want to pay.”

“Thank you,” you repeat again with a genuine smile.

****

“I don’t remember the last time someone bought me a gift that wasn’t a bible or something to pray with,” you hum as you look through the bag. Testing the weight of the clamps again. “No wait, I do! Aunt Joy. My moms sister - I met her once when I was eight, she travelled from Australia and she bought me a ‘Beach Babe Barbie’ and I absolutely loved her.” You say with a smile, thinking fondly back on the memory. “She had two bathing suits, a regular outfit and came with sunglasses and a beach ball. The day after Aunt Joy went home, barbie was sent packing too.” 

“You want me to buy you a Barbie?” He asks, lifting a brow playfully. He would buy you one too, just to see you smile happily.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head and another smile. “But thank you. And thank you for this… I feel like how a person is supposed to feel on Christmas or their birthday. I know you’ll be enjoying them as much as me, but… just thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He promises, letting you hold the bag and guiding you out of the store. “I’ll even let you put the cock ring on me.”

“You’re so romantic, did you know what?” You laugh, as you tighten your grip on his hand. Feeling an odd weight being lifted off your shoulders after revealing things about your past that no one else knew. “Take me home, babe, you can play with the chain on the clamps while you eat my pussy.” 

“Now who’s being romantic.” He snorts, opening the door for you and waiting for you to climb into the car.

Instead of climbing into the car, you seize the opportunity and slam your lips against his. Kissing him hard and a little bit messy as you wrap your arms around his neck tightly and pressing your body up against his.

He kisses you back and turns to press you against the car. Letting you lead the kiss as your tongue sides into his mouth.

Taking advantage of being in control your tongue greedily licks into his mouth and dances against his as you tug roughly on his hair, making him grunt. It’s sloppy, but you don’t care, your inexperience still obvious but all you can bring yourself to care about is him. Kissing him. Touching him. Feeling him pressed up against you. You want to wrap your legs around him and let him slip into you here and now, uncaring that you’re in public and anyone could see.

He lets you control it for a few more moments before he pulls away. “Come on, you exhibitionist.” He teases. “We don’t need to give the world a show.”

“Take me home,” you say breathlessly, arousal coating your thighs as your needy pussy starts to throb for him. “I need you.”

“Insatiable.” He’s proud that he’s turned you from a virginal mess to such a cock craven whore. His hand slides under your dress and he rubs your clit as he guides you back to the door again.

“Don’t tease,” you say, as you press your head against his chest. “Fuck.”

“Not teasing.” He hums. “Promising what is to cum.” He smirks at his pun and takes the bag from your hand, and idea forming in his head. “Get in the car and take off your panties.”

You do as he says quickly climbing into the seat and shimmying your panties down your legs, waiting impatiently for him to get in the car. They’re soaked. You know he’s going to ask to see them and you teeth sink into your lower lip as you stare at the unmistakable wet patches.

Stopping at the trunk of the car, Dave pulls out the lipstick vibrator and puts the batteries in it. Smirking to himself when he climbs in and hands it to you. “Put your feet up on the dash and spread them wide. I want to see your pussy.”

“Dave,” you gasp, “What if someone walks past?”

“Then they see a pretty cunt being pleasured.” He grunts, his eyes flashing in amusement.

You glance around and feel a little relaxed by the fact no one else is around, you do as he says, spreading your legs and trying not to cringe as he looks down at your soaked pussy. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you say quietly.

“All those toys sparking your imagination?” He asks, leaning over and sliding a finger through your folds. “I should go back inside and get you some remote controlled panties. Or a vibrator I slide inside you before class.” He hums, cock twitching in his pants.

“Fuck,” you murmur, “You could control it during class?” You ask with a moan as he teases your clit. “Babe, I need you.”

“I’m right here.” He reminds you, groaning at how wet you are. “I can’t fuck you in the car.”

“Take me home then,” you plead, desperate to be overwhelmed by him. “Dave, I need you so bad.”

“Poor little thing, you need to cum, don’t you?” He coos.

“I just need you,” you whimper, sinking down into the seat.

It’s thrilling, like a drug or a God complex, hearing those words fall from your sweet lips. Hearing that only he can fulfill your needs. He hums and pulls his fingers away. “I won’t always be there when you need me, take your little vibrator and see how it feels against your clit. I want to watch.”

You don’t want to hear what he’s saying, you know he isn’t yours but those words seem to confirm it in a way that makes your chest hurt. “Yes sir,” you say quietly, switching it on and pressing it to your little bundle of nerves.

“Good girl.” He praises. “Play with your clit where anyone could see you. Find what feels good.”

“Take me home,” you beg, but while still doing as he asks. Moaning in delight as it vibrates delicately against your bud.

“I am.” He starts the car. “Then you can have me. I’ll fuck you full again. Keep you on my cock while you play with your new toys.”

You move your legs off the dashboard but keep them spread wide, not wanting anyone to see you but Dave as he drives. “Want you to -fuckfuckfuckfuck- sleep inside me again.”

“You liked that, huh?” Last weekend, he had kept his cock buried inside you while you slept on him. Waking you up to fuck you throughout the night.

“Yes,” you gasp, as you press the vibrator a little harder against your clit, arousal dripping down the leather seats as you rapidly approach your high. “Loved it.”

“Good.” He groans, watching as you thigh starts to shake. “How does it feel?” 

“So good.” The pressure continues to build and you begin to moan his name, saying nothing but Dave over and over as you reach your peak and come hard. Pulling the still vibrating toy away from your clit as you convulse through the aftershocks.

“How was that?” He asks, his voice raspy and his cock is throbbing as he watched you play with yourself.

“Good,” you manage to choke out, “Really fucking good.” You reach over and stroke his thigh, desperate to get back to his and feel him buried deep inside of you.

“Do it again.” He orders with a smirk. “You cum until I get you home.”

Without another word you switch the toy back on and rub it against your clit, varying the pressure in which you hold it against your bundle of nerves. “You like this?” You murmur between gasps of pleasure, “Like watching me play with the pussy that belongs to you?”

“Yes.” He grunts and alternates between the road and your cunt. His eyes flutter back up to your face and he smirks. “I think you like playing with it in front of me too. Showing me what you want.”

“I do.” You say with a teasing smile, “I think about slipping my hand in my panties at the back of your lecture hall, knowing no one but you would see me, think about whether you’d punish or praise me afterwards.”

“You should find out.” He groans, imagining forcing himself through a boring lecture to equally boring students while watching you play with your cunt.

You feel yourself beginning to reach your second orgasm, and reduce the pressure wanting to drawl it out. “What if someone saw? Nicolas sits awfully close to me,” you say with a smirk, “What if he saw me playing with this tight little pussy?” You know he wouldn’t be able to, you sit so far back that the rest of the row is empty, the nearest person is nicholas but he’s tucked away in his own little corner. 

“He’ll fail.” Dave growls, scowling fiercely. 

You giggle at his possessiveness, “I’m going to do it now,” you say pressing the toy harder again, “When you least expect it, I’m going to spread these legs and slip a finger inside of me and pretend it’s you.” 

“You want me to pull you into my office and fuck you, don’t you, little girl?”

“Do you want an honest answer?” You say with a breathy moan.

“Always.” He grunts, reaching down and adjusting himself through his trousers.

“I want you to pull me downstairs and bend me over your desk and fuck me in front of everyone,” you gasp out as you teeter over the edge, “I want you to fuck me and let them all know that this pussy belongs to you.”

“Yeah?” The ironic part of this is he wants that too. Maybe have you sitting on his cock while the class listens to him lecture. He would never do it, but he’s imagined it.

“Yeah,” you answer softly before falling off that edge, cumming with an even softer moan of his name.

You are so fucking pretty when you cum, he can’t get over it. Watching as you shake in the passenger seat.

You look up at him, his eyes flickering back and forth from the road to you. Wordlessly you gather up some of the slick on your fingertips and bring it up to his lips.

He opens his mouth without hesitation, letting you feed him your taste. Groaning around your fingers and sucking them clean.

“So much for you to lick up, babe,” you say as his tongue swipes around your digits, “I love it when you eat my pussy, and you’re going to eat it as soon as we get inside.”

“I am?” It’s always fun when you get bursts of confidence like this. Thinking you are in charge.

“Yes,” you sat as confidently as you can. “I know you love it when I soak your face.”

“You cream so easily for me.” He chuckles, the sound filthy and he reaches for his phone to open it and select the camera. “Take a picture of it.”

“Yes sir.” The immediate change of control makes him chuckle again, seconds after your filthy demands you’re obeying his. You snap a photo of your glistening cunt and take a few seconds to admire the photo before handing him back his phone. “I’m excited to try the clamps.”

“I did think you’d go for those.” He admits.

“Really?” You say sitting up slightly and pressing your legs together, your poor clit needing a break from the overstimulation. “I do like it when you suck on my nipples, so I was intrigued... God, who am I?” you giggle. “It wasn’t that long ago that I had never touched myself and now I’m spreading my legs in your car.” 

“Someone who is being corrupted.” He jokes, smirking at you as he thinks about how true that is. “Next you’ll let me fuck you in the confessional.”

“Already sucked your cock in there,” you laugh. “I still don’t understand why you looked at me but I’m really glad you did, I feel alive when i’m with you.”

“You just don’t understand your appeal.” He can never tell you the real reason and he’s not quite ready to let you go.

“Mhmmm.” you hum, before reaching over and placing your hand on his thigh, “Hurry up and get us home, I need to make you feel good.”

“One day, I’ll get you to suck my cock while I’m driving.” You have lectured him on how dangerous road head was and he hasn’t pushed it yet.

“I bet you will,” you say with a roll of your eyes and a giggle. The rest of the trip is spent in comfortable silence, you find yourself more and more excited at the idea of the clamps. Loving the thought of him being rough with them as his face is buried in your pussy.a

Opening the garage door, Dave pulls the car inside and closes it behind you. “Go upstairs and strip.” He orders. “I want you on your knees on the bed when I come up. Wear your rosary.”

You nod before pressing a brief kiss to his lips, making your way up through the house and into his bedroom. You strip as quickly as you can and once you’re naked you place your rosary over your head and it hangs between your bare tits. You slide down onto your knees at the end of the bed and wait patiently for him to come in.

On your knees is where he loves to see you. Gazing up at him adoringly and willing to let him do anything he wants to your innocent body. He’s got the pictures to prove it. Unboxing the clamps and the toys, he strips himself and walks up the stairs to slowly tread down the hall.

You hear his footsteps as he pads down the hall and it makes you clench with excitement. He’s going to make you beg tonight, you can just tell by the tone of his voice, he’s not going to be content until your voice is all raspy and you’re a whimpering mess beneath him and you can’t wait.

Dave walks in, pleased that your thighs are spread so he can see your dripping cunt. Eager body ready for him. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you respond with a smile to his praise, you watch his cock bob with every step he takes and it makes you clamp down around nothing. “I missed you.”

“So greedy.” He smirks in amusement. “Haven’t been out of your sight for five minutes and you miss me.” He teases.

“Your fault.” You say with a little pout, before shuffling a little closer to where he’s standing.

“Are you ready for the clamps?” He asks, holding them up. 

“Yes sir,” you say with a nod of your head.

He hums and sets the other toys down so he can tweak your nipple, making it perk more before he starts to attach the clamps.

  You gasp a little at the way he handles you, but excitement stirs in your stomach at what’s to come. Choosing to stay silent until he talks to you, you watch him intently, taking in just how good looking he is.

He hums, opening the small spring to widen the dull teeth of the clamp to allow your nipple to pass through it. Closing it slowly and watching your expression as the pressure starts to build in that breast.

You hiss a little, but you like it, the slight twang of pain making you want more. Gently you reach up and touch the bottom of his jaw, before dropping your hand in your lap again, waiting for him to clamp the other one.

He attaches the second clamp and steps back, looking at how filthy you appear with clamps on your nipples and your cunt dripping onto his bed.

“How do I look?” You ask, sounding more innocent than ever despite the filthy situation you’re in.

“You want to see how filthy you look?” He asks, smirking as he looks over at his phone. He likes taking pictures of you.

“Yes.” Your reply is instant, and you find yourself grinning as he strolls over to pick up his phone.

He opens the camera and takes several photos of you, enjoying the mixture of innocence and filth. “Fuck, you look good like this.”

You keen at his praise, “For your eyes only.” You tell him before slipping your hand before your legs and slightly rocking against it, moaning his name as he takes a few more photos. “Just for you.”

“Just for me.” He grunts, cock twitching and he throws the phone down so he can kneel on the bed. “My own personal little whore.” He takes the rosary and uses the cross to tap against the clamps and make you moan.

“For you to use whenever you want,” you say, before pulling him closer to you. “So use me.”

“I’ll use you.” He promises, reaching for the toy he had bought for you and holds it up. “This or my tongue?”

“Your tongue,” you reply a little too quickly. “Please.”

He chuckles, knowing you would choose that option. "My tongue it is."

You move yourself backwards and spread yourself across his bed, you love the way his mouth feels on you. You’ve become a little addicted to him licking your pussy, and he knows it. “Thank you,” you say as sweetly as you can, eager to be overwhelmed by his talented tongue. 

He hums and slides onto his belly, lifting his hips to adjust his cock so he doesn't hurt himself. Arms under your thighs as he pulls you closer to him and lowers his mouth to your wet cunt.

“Oohhh,” you gasp, as his hot breath begins to coat your pussy. One of your hands finds its way into his hair and you push him down closer, desperate to feel him lapping against your clit. “Babe, please.”

"I've got you." He pulls away long enough to reassure you before he buries his tongue back inside your pussy just like you wanted him to be.

“Oh yes,” you squeal, as he works his magic.  The sounds he’s making as he drags his tongue throughout your folds adding to the already immense pleasure. “I-I love your mouth,” you choke out, before testing the chain on your clamps. Pulling them slightly and cooing at the new sensation. 

You love when he pleasures you. Loves when his mouth is lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. He loves pulling those desperate gasps and squeals out of you. Loves how wickedly you crave his tongue. Coaxing pleasure out of you every flick of his tongue.

It’s only been a few months but everyday you find yourself biting back those three words that you know you shouldn’t admit, and when he’s pulling pleasure and worshipping your pussy like this, it gets harder and harder. Your teeth sink down into your lower lip, before a desperate moan fills the air. He’s sucking your clit so perfectly, keeping it between his lips as his tongue laps gently at it. “Gonna cum,” you babble as your hips lift off the bed and everything goes blurry. 

Dave reaches up and twirls his fingers around the chain that hangs down between your breasts and the chain from the clamps. Tugging on them as he pushes you over the edge.

You scream his name as pleasure washes over you, your thighs continuing to shake as he refuses to let up on his delicious assault on your clit. “Love… love fuck,” you babble incoherently as he yanks on the chain yet again.

There are moments where he's sure that you are about to admit that you love him. He hears it on the tip of your tongue even if you don't vocalize it.

“Kiss me,” you beg, as you come down from your high. You know you’ve soaked him, you can feel arousal dripping from you but the temptation to reveal your feelings is growing stronger and you’re certain he doesn’t feel the same. Kissing him will stop the words falling from your mouth.

He moves up your body and presses his chest against yours. Groaning when he feels your clamps against his skin. Kissing you just like you requested and letting you taste yourself from his lips.

“Mine,” you murmur possessively against his lips, before pushing your tongue back into his mouth. Your hands trail down his body, grabbing and feeling him whether you can. Loving the feeling of safety that comes from him.

Tonight is different from what he had planned, but he's not upset about it. Giving you more control to take charge than he ever did, he finds he likes your hands on him, your eagerness to touch him addictive.

“Mine,” you repeat again, a little more forcefully this time. “I wanna jerk you off,” you say as your hand wraps around him.

Dave huffs and decides that he will let you have your way, rolling you over to where you are on top. "So do it."

“You’re perfect,” you say, as your fingertips gently move down his shaft, softy stroking him. You do something you’ve never done before and once he’s staring into your eyes, you look up at him as innocently as possible before spitting on his cock. Keeping your eyes on his as you spread your saliva over him before finding your rhythm. Long, languid strokes that make him curse under his breath.

"Fuck." He hisses. "You are such a dirty fucking girl." He moans softly. "You need to pray for forgiveness. With my dick in your hand."

“Is that what you want?” You say as you increase the speed in which you pleasure him. Squeezing him a little tighter. “You want me to pray to the lord for forgiveness for something I could never be sorry for? How could I ever be sorry for touching you?”

"Sinner." He grunts out, teasing you and it makes his cock throb to hear how you didn't want to ask for forgiveness for what you do with him.

“Yes.” You say simply, loving the way he throbs in your hand. “He granted me life, right? We are gifts sent directly from him? I don’t feel guilty for feeling the way I feel when i’m with you or for feeling how I feel about you… I only feel guilty for desperately praying away the hours that I’m not with you.”

"Really?" He grunts and groans, rocking his hips up and there is a spurt of pre-cum that is released at your confession.

“Yes.” Your thumb swipes across the tip of him and collects the pre-cum and you immediately bring it to your mouth and taste him, morning at the taste you love so much. “Does that make you mad?” You ask quietly, taking him back in hand and resuming the same pace. “That I can’t stand to be away from you.”

It should concern him. That you are growing too attached. That is it getting close to time to end this little arrangement with you. He doesn't need the complication of an infatuated girl. It doesn't though, making him frown even as he tells you what you want to hear. "No."

“Good,” you reply softly, “My pussy or my hand?” You ask him, feeling yourself getting precariously close to saying those three words again. “You can fill me up or you can cum in my hands, I’ll place my rosary on your stomach and you can splatter my beads with your seed.”

"Fuck yes. That." Dave groans filthily and closes his eyes.

You remove your hands from him and gently pull your rosary over your head, placing it down gently on his stomach and you start working his shaft again. Squeezing it almost as tightly as your pussy does and you stroke him faster and faster, “Tell me again,” you beg, knowing that you shouldn’t keep asking to hear things that aren’t true, “Tell me you’re mine, like I am yours.” 

"Yours." Dave hisses, rocking his hips up and his eyes greedily fixed on your rosary and on the soft, innocent hand that is wrapped around his cock.

It makes your heart leap, a warmth flooding you as you replay his word over and over. Every twist of your wrist is designed to make him grunt, to moan your name in pleasure as you work him towards his high. You squeeze him tighter and tighter and praise him as you feel his balls pull up, “Cum for me, cum for your girl.” 

He has more control than this, but there is something about the way you beg. He's helpless to do anything but follow your order. He cums, achingly hard with your name on his lips as he spills ropes of cum over your rosary and his chest.

You pump him until he’s dry and hissing from overstimulation. “You look so good,” you say, before dragging a finger through his cum and tasting it off your finger.

"You look good too, little girl." He chuckles and pants as he tries to catch his breath.

You swipe your fingers through it again, gathering up as much as you can and licking your fingers clean. “In the morning,” you say as you climb off his bedroom and walk towards the bathroom to get a cloth, “I’m going to cook you whatever you want.. and then if you want me to I’m going to do what you said earlier.” You pick up your rosary and instead of wiping it clean you just admire how it looks for a few seconds before hanging it over the edge of the bed and then you begin to wipe his stomach clean. “I’m going to serve you breakfast and then drop to my knees and suck your gorgeous cock, whilst a toy buzzes inside of me.” 

“Such a good girl.” He teases, reaching for your hand to drag you back into the bed and laughs when you shriek. “But first we need to sleep.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you say as you snuggle up to him. “Get some sleep old man.” 

“Old man.” He scoffs, even though he is older than you. His arms slide around you easily even though he should have never found out how you felt while you slept. “Goodnight, little girl.”

“Goodnight, my love,” you whisper into his skin. You clock watch for a while, unable to fall asleep, listening to the soft inhale and exhale of Daves breathing before gently saying his name a few times and figuring he’s fast asleep when he doesn’t reply or move. “I really like being here with you. I really like you.” You say with a little sigh. “My life is figured out for me, I’m going to marry a man I won’t ever love because my parents will insist on it… and because of that I'm so grateful to you, Dave. So grateful that I get to experience how lovely it feels to be completely in love with someone, and I will be for as long as you’ll keep me around and for many years after. I love you. Have since the first time you touched me.” You snuggle back into his chest and let sleep take you without say another word, just tightening the hold you have on him as he sleeps beneath you. 

****

Dave wakes up before you do, watching as you sleep on his chest, limbs heavy and body relaxed. You trust him more than anybody else in the world when you shouldn’t. He feels guilty but tries to rationalize it by reminding himself that he promised you nothing but pleasure. Pleasure he’s provided, but it rings hollow in his chest. He sighs softly and his fingers trace your skin.

You wake up to the feeling of soft circles being drawn on your skin, and you hum contentedly, before pepping a kiss to his chest. “Good morning,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning.” He hums softly, continuing to touch you. “You slept well?”

“Like a baby,” you say, before pressing another kiss to his chest. “Always sleep well when I’m with you.”

He accepts that, wondering how you sleep when you are in your dorm without him. You text him late into the night on those days.

“You hungry? Or do you want to snuggle for a bit?” You ask, hoping he’ll pick the second option.

“We can stay like this.” He knows you want to stay in bed, your arms tightened around his waist. “We’ve got hours before you have to be back for evening mass.”

“I don’t want to go,” you groan, a little petulantly but not caring. “I could stay here,” you suggest, “And worship the one thing I actually want to worship.” 

“Blasphemy.” He cautions, even with the smirk on his face as he smacks your ass.

You groan as you think about spending another evening at mass. You tighten the grip you have on him even more and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and sigh.

“At least it’s not morning mass.” He contends. “Otherwise we would have to get up and get ready.”

You groan again, “I just don’t want to go.” You sigh once more into his soft skin before wrapping your leg around him, wanting to feel him even closer.

“I know.” Both of you know you have to though. It’s a requirement of the school. 

“I could get really bad cramps,” you say with a smirk, “You can go and I'll stay here and keep the bed warm.”

“Oh, I can, can I?” He snorts and shakes his head at your antics. “Lying on top of everything else. That’s more Hail Mary’s for you, little girl.”

You push yourself up, and throw your leg over him, straddling him. “All this sinning… What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” He teases. “I’m not your priest.” He smirks. “Though you have paid plenty of penitence on your knees for me.” 

“You’re filthy, did you know that?” You giggle, before leaning over and stealing a kiss. 

“I do know that.” He hums against your lips.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” He nods and grins at you.

“What do you want?” you say between kisses.

“You make really good omelets.” He reminds you. “And some toast?”

“I can do that,” you say with a smirk, standing up and pulling the shirt he was wearing yesterday around yourself without buttoning it up. “Come down when you’re ready.” 

He watches you walk out the door. Smirking to himself and listening as you start to rummage around in the kitchen.

While preparing the ingredients for his omelet you think about what you admitted to him while he was asleep, and it makes your heart drop. You’re in so deep now that it’s clear the only way this is going to end is in severe heartbreak, he’s never ever going to love someone like you, you think to yourself over and over. Fighting back tears and focusing on preparing him a delicious breakfast.

Dave grabs the vibrator that had fallen to the floor and carries it back into the bathroom to be sanitized. Grabbing the lube, he smirks as he walks downstairs in his boxers and sets the items on the table.

You’re just plating up his food as he walks into the room, “Breakfast is nearly done, just waiting on the toast,” you say as you glance over at him. 

Your smile isn't quite as bright as it normally is and he frowns slightly but you aren't looking at him. "Thank you." He offers, sitting down and watching you carefully.

You wait for the toast to pop up and butter it nearly before placing it on his plate and walking over to the table. “Am I still allowed to suck your cock?” You ask quietly as you hand him his plate.

"Why wouldn't you be allowed to do it?" He reaches out and takes your arm, pulling you into his arms. "Do you want to suck my cock? You don't have to."

“I do,” you say as a bright smile spreads across your face, just the slightest touch from him lighting you up. “I really like you,” you mumble against his lips, “I really like your cock.”

"I really like your pussy." He shoots back playfully. "Came close to having you for breakfast."

“Don’t tease,” you groan, “You know how much I like that.”

"Who said I was teasing?" He asks, looking at you with a serious expression on his face.

“You could have done it,” you challenge, “Instead you’re teasing me about how you could have… Mean.”

"I'm not being mean." He protests, smirking quietly. "Just telling you what I was tempted to do."

“Next time you should just do it,” you say with a shrug, before pressing your lips to his and getting up off his lap.

"Maybe I will." He chuckles at your pout.

“Can I suck your cock now?” You ask, each word drenched in accidental innocence as you stare into his eyes. 

"Fuck yes." He grunts, his cock hardening in his boxers and starting to tent it.

“Do you want me to put the vibrator inside me? Or just concentrate on making you cum?”

"I brought the toy downstairs. And the lube." He motions towards the toys.

“I see that,” you say, rolling your eyes, “I just wanted to check.”

"Someone's moody today." Dave huffs and leans back in his seat to watch you. "What is going through that mind of yours?"

“I just… I just want to make you feel good,” you say quietly, wanting to tell him how you’re feeling, but not ready for the rejection. “Can I do that?”

"Yes." He decides that after you make him cum, he will return the favor, get you out of this funk.

You reach over and pick up the vibrator, generously coating it in lube like he advised and you spread your legs, feeling his eyes on you the entire time as you work it inside of you. Whimpering as it spreads you open and meets a little resistance, relaxing yourself so it slides in and then switching it on the lowest setting. Before sinking to your knees and palming him through his boxers, “I really fucking love your cock,” you say, as you dip your fingers into the waistband and start to pull them down. Unable to stop yourself from gasping as his cock breaks free and bobs up and down.

"It's the only cock you've had." He reminds you. "You don't have anything to compare it to."

You look up at him visibly confused, “Do you want to have something else to compare it to?”

"No," He growls, furious at the fucking idea of you touching someone else.

“Good, because I don’t want anyone else.” Your tongue licks around the tip of him, he’s rock hard and pre-cum is dripping down his shaft. You take the head of him in your mouth and hollow your cheeks before starting to jerk him off.

He groans, watching as you spread your legs wider and reach down to turn on the vibrator. Enjoying the way your groan vibrates around him. "Fuck, your mouth is so fucking good, little girl." He pants. "Fucking love it.

You moan at his praise, clamping down around the vibrating toy. It feels good, but not as good as him. Increasing your pace, you jerk him a little faster, sucking the tip of him harder as your moans wrap around his cock.

"Filthy." He grunts, cupping your cheek. "Bet you think about sucking my cock every time you go into that confessional. Remembering how you took my load down your throat like a champ. Perfect little whore."

You nod up at him, confirming what he just said as true. You do think about how he fucked your throat for the first time as you rubbed your clit in that sacred little booth and the memory makes your pussy flood. You pull off him for a few seconds, continuing to stroke his length and whisper up at him, “Your perfect little whore,” before taking him back in your mouth. 

"My perfect little whore." He groans in agreement. "Jerked off thinking about that in my office later that week." 

You groan again at the thought of him jerking off thinking about you. You take him a little deeper, loving the sounds he rewards you with as you do so. Reaching down you turn up the vibrations on the toy buzzing away in your cunt and whimper as it hits that spot inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl." He grunts, watching you squirm on the floor while he pulses in your mouth. "You're gonna cum on that toy while I cum down your throat, aren't you?"

“Yes,” you choke out around him, taking him even deeper and swallowing around him as he pushes past your tonsils. You gently play with his balls, as he rocks his hips up into your mouth, chasing his high.

"Fuck." He grunts out, his fingers curling around your jaw and holding you in place while your mouth acts like a vacuum around his cock. "Fuck, you have the best fucking mouth I've ever had around my cock." He pants out.

You keen at his praise, sucking harder and swallowing over and over as not to gag as you clamp down on the toy, his praise threatening to send you over the edge. You look up at him all wide eyed and innocent and the look on his face is enough, and before you can process it you’re cumming hard around the toy.

You moans push him over the edge. Balls pulling tight against his body, he has never even touched his food as he starts to spill down your throat with a groan of your name.

You try to swallow it all, but it’s a lot, rope after rope floods your mouth and starts to drip out of the corner of your lips. Reaching down you pull the vibrator out of your overstimulated pussy and concentrate on milking him dry of his cum.

Dave forces himself to keep his eyes opened, watching you as he continues to cum. Until you have milked him of every drop and his fingers pry your mouth off of his cock.

You groan as he pulls himself free of your needy mouth, but you take the opportunity to gather up the cum that had dripped out and push it into your mouth. Moaning happily as you swallow it down. “So fucking good.”

"So fucking greedy." He pulls you to your feet and pushes the plate away from his seat to replace it with your body.

You squeal as he pushes you down and start to giggle, “I just really love your cock.”

"And I really love your pussy." He reminds you as he spreads your thighs wide. "Look, breakfast." He teases before he leans in to slide his tongue through your lips.

“Fuck,” you moan as he starts to eat your pussy, slowly swiping his tongue through your folds. “Dave,” you squeal as he starts to tease your clit before moving back down and pushing his tongue into your cunt.

He huffs at you, dark eyes on you as he silently tells you that you asked for this. You had wanted this and he is giving it to you.

“I lov-love your mouth,” you pant, loving the way he doubles down and eats your pussy like a man who’s been starved. “My clit,” you beg, “Please, Dave.” 

He moves to your clit, flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth to work between his lips.

“Just like that,” you moan as your fingers twist in his hair, you throw your head back as he quickly works towards your orgasm. 

He moans into your folds, enjoying you enjoying yourself. The way you are so wanton appeals to him, making him proud to have corrupted you. You enjoy the pleasure he can bring you with zero shame.

Your hips start to rock gently, and after a few more minutes of his lapping feverishly at your clit you’re cumming. Screaming his name as your thighs shake around his head and your cunt gushes all over his table.

Groaning, he keeps working your clit. Working you through your orgasm and watching your face as you squeeze your eyes shut as if in prayer.

“Dave.” His name slips through your lips with ease, like the sweetest prayer you’ve ever said. He continues to lick your cunt, even after you’ve finished cumming and up until you gently push him away. “What did I do to deserve such heaven?” You ask him quietly.

“Told you I thought about doing it.” He smirks and pulls you into his lap. “So I just had my first breakfast, now you and I are going to split the breakfast you made me.”

“I’m boneless,” you say with a giggle and then nuzzle your face into his neck, “I can’t move right now.”

“Then you sit here until you can.” Dave chuckles, always pleased when he can wear you out.

“Again,” you say before moving to face him, and resting your forehead on his, “What did I do to deserve such heaven?”

“You didn’t do anything.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “Just being you.”

“I really really like you Dave York.” You say with a happy sigh.

He hums and smirks at you. “I really like you too, little girl.” 

****

THE HOLIDAYS 

  It was boring to go through the holidays without you. Thanksgiving had been boring, but Dave always got a kick out of all the ‘pious’ Christians that he saw out on Black Friday, scrambling for the discounts and trying to get everything they could get their hands on. You had come back from your parents quiet and slightly withdrawn for a week. Something obviously on your mind and he knows you feel guilty. He feels guilty as well, because he should have dropped you. But he hasn’t. Now it’s nearing the end of the Christmas break and his house has been sad and lonely, although he still stares at the Christmas tree you had insisted he put up for the first time in years. A symbol of the hold you have over him. He hasn’t been able to take it down and put away the thing that had made you giggle as you curled up against him on the sofa after it was put up.

It had been a hellish Christmas break. Your mother had casually dropped in conversation that they’d found a ‘potential husband’ for you and immediately changed the subject like you were discussing the weather. 

They had spent the majority of the time lecturing you on how you had proven to be a disappointment since going off to college, how they had expected you to volunteer more of your time but instead you had ‘gone AWOL.’ And the urge to tell them why kept creeping up on you, the urge to tell them what you had really been doing just to wipe the smug looks of their faces.

It was the day after Christmas that you’d decided you had enough and packed your car and decided to go. Leaving a note on the kitchen table and just getting out of there.

You missed Dave so much that you ached, you texted a few times but your parents had you booked and busy for the majority of the time you were there. 

Neither of them thanked you for the gift you had picked out for them to share and of course ‘Christmas isn’t a vanity contest’ so there weren't any presents for you under the tree, as usual.

You had tried to send Dave a gift on Christmas day, when they had left the house you rifled through your bag and found the ‘lipstick vibrator’ he’d got you and recorded a video but lack of wifi meant the video kept failing to send. So you decided that you were going to give it to him alongside his ‘real gift’ when you got home. 

You hadn’t told him you were coming home early, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible and when you started to approach your dorm building, you just didn’t stop driving. Instead you made your way to his, pulling your car up behind his and getting his gift from the trunk and timidly knocking his front door.

He opened the door and you begged him to help you forget and asking no questions, he did that. He took you right there and then and hasn’t once complained that you’ve now been back a week and can’t bring yourself to leave his side. 

"Are you going to let me fuck you?" Dave asks the question even though he knows you will say yes. You've let him do anything he wants to you. Quite desperately, almost. Now it's New Year's Eve and you've been on his lap for hours as he plays with your body and draws out your pleasure, keeping you on the edge of an orgasm but not quite letting you cum.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

"Whatever I want?" He chuckles and raises a brow in consideration. "Hmmm."

“Anything,” you say as you place your hand on top of his and squeeze.

Dave reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing in the exact right spot to make your breath catch and he chuckles when your eyes widen. "Are you sure about that, little girl?"

You nod furiously, wanting to give yourself to him and let him take full control. “Yes,” you gasp, “Yes please, Dave.”

He squeezes a little tighter and the lets go. “On my bed, naked.” He growls roughly.

“Yes sir,” you say before pressing a bruising kiss to his lips and giggling. You run up the stairs and immediately begin to strip as you enter his room, hearing him slowly make his way upstairs.

There are many options on how to do this. And he smirks when he decides, slowly unbuckling his belt to slide through the loops as he walks down the hall.

You situate yourself comfortably on the bed, fully bare and waiting for him. Anticipation is flooding through you as you wait for what he has in store for you.

Dave makes his entrance slow, menacing as he can manage as his eyes flit towards the bed. Pleased to find you waiting for him. “Get the cock ring you wanted me to wear.” He rasps at you.

“Fuck,” you murmur, as you think about the cock ring you bought a while back and never got around to using. You’re both usually too frantic and desperate to feel each other to remember it, so it’s been sitting unused in the box. You learn over and open the drawer on your side of the bed and pull out the box, “Here,” you say, stretching your hand to give it to him.

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “Put it on me.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling at his command, “Yes sir.” You remove it from its packaging and ask quietly, “Does it need lube?”

“No.” He watches you bite your lip as you pull it out of the package. “It’s going to be tight on my cock and balls.” He reminds you. “Making it possible to last longer. At least for me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, “Tell me if I'm doing it wrong or too fast.” You push the ring over his head and look up at it, clearly anxious you’re going to hurt him. Slowly you move it down his shaft and stop at the base of him, “Is that ok?”

“It’s okay, baby girl.” He grunts, understanding that you are nervous. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you say as you push up and bring him in for another kiss. “No limits today,” you whisper, “I know the safeword if I need it.”

“Say it out loud.” He grunts, kissing you again. “Want to hear you say it.” He’s adamant about safe words. While he has introduced you to sex, and now pushing the boundaries of ‘normal’ sex, he wants you to be well versed in the proper way of kink. Even if he can’t imagine you with another partner. 

“Pineapple,” you say loud and clear. “Traffic light system - green is good, amber is slow down and red is stop.”

 “Good girl.” Dave praises. “And if your mouth is full?”

 “Squeeze your thigh or arm three times, depending on what I can reach.”

 “And if I tie your hands?” Dave demands.

 “Blink three times fast,” you say, before kissing him again. “I’m ready, I know what I want… and I want you to clear my mind of everything that isn’t you.”

 Your faith in him is unwavering and he is sometimes in awe of every filthy thing you let him do. “My perfect, filthy, little whore.” He coos, reaching up and gripping your cheeks to force your lips apart. He kisses them gently before he pulls back and slowly spits into your open mouth.

You whimper at his filthy action before swallowing it down and opening your mouth for more. You love being at his mercy, you love being held by him so lovingly as he performs the filthiest acts on you.

“You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” He smirks at the idea and shakes his head, loving the control he has over you.

You nod your head and mouth the word ‘yes’ as he tightens his grip on you.

He keeps his hand on your jaw as he picks up his belt with his other hand. Changing his mind at the last minute, the thick leather of the belt goes into your mouth instead of around your throat like he had first imagined. Letting go to wrap it around your head and buckling it right behind you.

You look at him all doe eyed and innocent as the smirk on his face gets bigger and bigger. Whatever he’s giving you tonight, you’re going to take, no matter how overstimulated or tired you are; you have decided that you are his to do as he pleases with.

He finishes putting the cock ring on, grunting at the unfamiliar pressure and twitching slightly at the thought of lasting longer. “I had thought to put my belt around your throat as a pretty necklace to wear.” He admits, starting to slowly stroke himself in front of you. “But then I realized the best necklace you could wear is my hand.”

Your eyes light up at the thought of it, the same hand that he’s using to slowly stroke his cock wrapping around your neck. You nod your head in agreement as his dark eyes burn into yours.

“You can’t suck my cock with my belt in your mouth.” He taunts with a smirk. “Don’t you want to? Wrap your lips around me and make me groan your name?”

The way you nod your head has him chuckling, you nod your head so fast that it almost makes you dizzy.

“Too bad.” He grins. “Do you know how often I think about that sweet pussy or mouth on my cock?”

You groan in disappointment, hearing that he won’t be feeding you his cock. You shake your head in response to his question, your pussy dripping as you await for him to tell you.

“Every fucking time I see you.” He keeps his hand moving up and down the shaft of his cock. “Imagining you on your knees in the middle of the lecture hall, sucking me off while I’m teaching.”

Your eyes focus on him stroking his cock, jealousy ripping through you because you want to be the one touching him. You moan desperately at his words, knowing he knows that you’d suck his cock anytime anywhere without any hesitation.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you are screaming.” He promises you. “And then I’m gonna fuck you some more.”

You shuffle towards him, desperate to feel his touch as he teases you with his filthy words. You’re dripping wet and you know that he could slide straight into you with no resistance right now.

“Lay down, spread you legs and let me see the little pussy I’m gonna be fucking raw.”

The noise you make is filthy, as you lean back and spread your legs as wide as you can. You know your cunt is glistening, arousal is coating your thighs and dripping down into his bedsheets.

“Greedy little cunt.” He coos mockingly. Shuffling closer as he pumps his cock harder. “Begging for my cock stuffed inside it. Only happy I’ve fucked it full.”

You can feel your walls fluttering, desperate for something to flutter around as he mocks you. You start to rock your hips in a silent plea for him to touch you, to fill you to give you something.

He presses the head of his cock to your clit and hums as he slides it through your slick. “Legs on my shoulders.”

You lift your legs up and carefully place them on his shoulders, chasing more friction on your clit you rock your hips again, needing to feel him pressed against your bundle of nerves.

He spends a few minutes rubbing his cock over your clit before he reaches down and turns on the vibrator built into it.

You writhe underneath him, taking everything he’s giving you and pleading silently for more. He knows how desperate you are to be filled by him, and he’s drawing it out. Loving the way your body begs for him, the way your hips rock over and over in an attempt to feel him. “More,” you start to plead, words muffled by the thick leather.

“More?” He asks, lifting a brow as he slides his cock down to start pressing against your slick entrance. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you almost scream, moving your hips in an attempt to pull him in.

“Okay.” He agrees the second before he slams his hips forward and buries his cock into your pussy to the hilt.

The air is pushed from your lungs with that first thrust, the harsh snap of his hips leaving you desperate for more. You cry his name once you’re able to inhale and fill your lungs, ready for him to steal your breath all over again. 

One breath is all he gives you before he’s pulling his hips back and ready to destroy you.

His pace is relentless, every snap of his hips designed to break you. You moan against the leather, pushing down every urge you have to scream whilst he fucks you into his mattress. The sound of skin slapping against skin drowning out your moans of pleasure. His eyes are almost black with lust as he snarls at you.

The cock ring provides more stimulation to your clit with your legs up on his shoulders, pressing them back towards your body as he snaps his hips down into your spasming cunt. One hand wraps around your throat and every time he bottoms out inside you, he squeezes.

You feel that delicious pressure building in your clit as his hand squeezes your throat. The look of his eyes is animalistic as he presses a little tighter, watching you for any signs of struggle as you lay beneath him, threatening to fall off the delicious edge at any moment.

“You’re gonna cum for me.” He spits. “Gasping for air and seeing spots in your vision.” He squeezes tighter, pushing your hips back and driving into you harder, desperate to feel you cum over him as the cock ring buzzes away against his scrotum and your clit. 

Within seconds you’re cumming, devastatingly hard around his cock. Clamping down around him like a vice as you flood his cock, a steady stream of liquid squirting out of you as he keeps his hand wrapped around your neck.

“Fuck.” His hisses, eyes widening as he looks down at the way you’ve soaked his cock and his stomach. “Dirty fucking thing, you squirted all over me.” He relaxes his grip on your throat while he grinds into you, working you through the orgasm.

You cry his name as he fucks into that heavenly spot inside of you, loving the way your walls contract around him and greedily suck him back in.

He chuckles at how insatiable you are, rolling through your first orgasm into begging for another. “More, pretty girl?”

“More,” you mumble through the belt, nodding your head.

“Good girl.” His speed starts to ramp back up, moving back to the previous frantic pace.

Your hands find purpose in the sheets, gripping them tightly as he pounds into you. Fucking you harder and harder with each measured thrust. He’s got you exactly where he wants you and the look on his face tells you that he’s only just getting started with you.

Again, he starts squeezing your neck. “Fuck, you look so- so beautiful.” He grunts. “Perfect little whore. My dirty angel.”

The unexpected praise makes you keen, tears welling up in your eyes as you replay him calling you beautiful and his as he pounds into you. He doesn’t let up on the grip on your throat for a few moments, waiting for the moment just before he thinks you’re about to struggle.

Your pussy pulses around him when he restricts your oxygen and it’s the most gorgeous feeling in the world. “Come on baby, gimme another one.” He groans. “Soak my cock again. Ruin our bed.”

‘Our’, you mouth silently against the belt. And then you’re letting go. Clamping down around him and coming this time with a loud scream of his name. The vibrations against your clit alongside him hammering into that spot inside you has you squirting around him for a second time. Covering his cock, balls and thighs with your arousal as you continue to softly pant his name throughout your high.

Dave groans, slowing down slightly to take a break while you float through the pleasure of your high. Panting as he rocks into you, he grins. “Still not done yet.”

“Mine,” you groan against the belt, as your hand comes up and softly strokes his face. You feel exhausted, the poundings your pussy has taken has you trembling beneath him but you’re ready for more, eager to feel him take you apart again.

He changes the rhythm, slowly grinding into you as he rests for a bit. Letting your body cool down.

“Wow,” you say, slightly murmured by the belt. Exhaustion sits heavily in your joints but you’re not ready for this to be over, you look up at him panting over you and move your face up to nuzzle against his. The closest thing you can currently get to a kiss.

He chuckles and leans in to kiss your nose. “Ready for a break?” He asks you softly.

You nod your head, needing a sip of water and to feel his lips on yours.

Dave is immediately moving. Pulling out of you and not bothering to turn off the cock ring before he is unbuckling the belt to pull it out of your mouth and massaging your cheeks. “Stay here. I’ll get you some water.” He tells you as he shuffles off the bed and finally stops the vibrations in the toy.

“Dave,” you call out as he shuffles away, “On the bookcase in the hall is your Christmas present… you haven’t opened it. Bring it up with you please.”

“I will.” He wonders why you are insistent that he bring it, but he snatches it up on his way back through from grabbing you water.

By the time he’s back up you’re sitting comfortably on the bed with your phone open and ready to play the video you took him. “I’ve been so distracted recently that I forgot to give it to you,” you say as you smile at the neatly wrapped package in his hand. “It’s one of two gifts, but you should open that one first. There’s a store by my parents house that makes these and I just felt like you’d appreciate it.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He has his own present for you, but that’s besides the point. “Your present is sitting in my closet.”

“You got me a present?” You say with a wide smile, “You didn’t have to do that.”

He lifts his brow at the irony of that statement, considering he is holding a gift from you in his hand. “Do you want me to open this first?”

“Yes and then I have something else for you,” you say excitedly. “I hope you like it.”

Dave hands you the water. “Drink.” He orders as he sits down beside you, his cock still hard and in the cock ring. Careful to unwrap the neat paper and he pauses when he discovers you’ve given him a leather bound journal, embossed with his name and a matching pen. “It’s- beautiful.” He can’t believe how thoughtful it is, and he swallows as he thinks of the other journal he has. His finger brushes over the gold leaf name. “Thank you.”

“You like it?” You say happily, as you watch him study it. “I figured you could keep it in your office and then you’ll think of me whenever you use it.”

“I will.” He looks up at you and nods, reaching out and pulling you in to crush his lips to yours.

You open your mouth and let him push his tongue between your lips, pushing yourself against him as he does so. Your hand wraps around his cock and you give him a few languid strokes, smiling as he groans into your mouth.

He kisses you for a long moment before he pushes your hand away from his cock and breaks the kiss. “So do you want to give me my other present or have yours?”

“You can give me mine,” you giggle, “I think you might be a little distracted by your next one.”

“Okay.” Dave leans in and kisses you again. “I love your gift. I hope you like what I got you.”

“It’s from you so I know I will,” you say, gently gripping onto each side of his jaw, and placing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.

He hums and stands, setting the journal and pen down before he walks into the closet and gets out a gift the size of a shoe box. Brightly wrapped and covered with a bow.

“Oh wow,” you say as you notice the box, “It looks so pretty, Dave.”

“I didn’t wrap it.” He snorts. “I can’t wrap for shit, so I paid to have it wrapped at one of those booths.” He’s a little nervous about this, because he hadn’t planned on getting it for you. He had planned on getting you something sexual. But as soon as he had seen it in the store window, he had to have it for you.

You smile at his admission, honestly not surprised he didn’t wrap it but still grateful for the effort he went to. You take it from his hands and notice how nervous he looks, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can I open it?”

“Sure.” He nods and watches as you carefully peel away the red and gold wrapping paper to reveal the box. Making him smirk slightly when you huff, having to use your nail to cut through the tape to open the lid.

“Oh Dave,” you say softly, looking up at him with wide glossy eyes. 

“You told me once that you wanted to be a ballerina when you were a little girl.” He explains as you lift the elaborately carved music box from the one it was wrapped in. The line of ballerinas in different positions line the top of the brightly colored box. “How you would practice in your room in secret even if you had never taken a class. I thought you would like it, remember that no matter what, you can still dream.” 

Words fail you. Your fingertips delicately dance over the ballerinas and it’s only when he gently wipes away a tear that you realize you’re crying. “Dave,” you sob gently, as you take in every little detail, “This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I can’t believe it’s mine.”

“It plays a little song.” He shows you the key in the back, twisting it a few times so that the music will start to play as he opens the lid. “Something sweet, like you.”

The tears start to fall harder as you listen to the stunning melody, watching the line of ballerinas move so delicately to the music. “I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much, my love.”

“It’s a jewelry box too.” He nudges you gently, bringing your attention to the small tray inside. He hears you say ‘my love’ but he can’t comment on that right now. 

You look up at him through your teary eyes before looking back down and gently pulling open the tray. Gasping when you notice the gorgeous pearl bracelet inside of it. “Oh Dave.”

“Oh Dave.” He mimicked you and pucks the bracelet up to open the clasp to put it on your wrist. “I think there’s a parrot in here. That’s all I hear. ‘Oh Dave’.” He’s beaming as he teases you, completely joking and he looks up from wrapping it around your wrist to wink at you.

“Shut up,” you say with a giggle, “I love it,” you focus on the bracelet, beaming as you notice the tiny engraved ‘D’ on the clasp. “D?”You say out loud with an even bigger smile forming across your face. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” You take his face in your hands and move close enough to brush your lips against his as you speak, “I really love it, all of it, and you.” 

He hums and pours himself into kissing you. He can’t tell you that. He can’t do that to you. Especially when his own feelings are so fucking out of the norm for him. “Good.” He manages after pulling his lips away from yours.

“You gonna finish fucking me once we move this off the bed?” You say, still gently holding onto his face. 

“Of course I am.” Dave scoffs, smirking at you. “You can still walk, can’t you?”

“Just about,” you say, rolling your eyes as you get up and place the jewelry box down on his drawers and take a few more seconds admiring it. You kneel down on the bed next to him and give him a quick kiss, “Second present first.” You pass him the phone which is already opened to the video and wait for him to press play. “Tried to send you this on Christmas day but had no wi-fi.” 

“Ohhh I get another present.” He smirks as he presses play and immediately groans when the video starts to move. “Jesus Christ. You filmed this at your parents?”

“Yeah,” you say with a giggle, “Dad had another service and I decided to stay behind… I was really missing you.”

“Fuck, baby girl.” He grunts, cock twitching as he watches it again.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you say as you wrap your fingers around his cock again. Moaning as you see the build up of pre-cum and how purple the tip of him is. “Oh, my love, we’ve got to make you cum.”

Dave tosses the phone down and lurches for you. “Spread your legs.”

You squeal with excitement before spreading your legs. “Yes, sir!”

He thrusts back into you easily, frantically. Determined to make sure that you can’t walk when he’s done with you.

“Fuck,” you scream as he fills you with him. Your walls immediately fluttering around him as he starts to pound in and out, focusing on that spot inside of you. Your hands squeeze your tits as he grips on to your hips pulling you down to meet every harsh snap of hips. 

This time, his goal isn’t to overwhelm you, just show you how he feels without saying the words.

You reach up and touch his face, whimpering his name as he thrusts in and out, “Kiss me.”

He lunges down and presses his lips to yours desperately. Groaning as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

You press your tongue against his and they battle for dominance but you both know he’s in control the entire time, taking the breath out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as the kiss turns more frantic.

Dave groans and keeps his hips rocking as he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and pressing close.

Your hold on him tightens as he pulls you closer, you reluctantly detach your lips from his and giggle at the way he immediately growls at the loss, “Slower Dave, let me feel all of you,” you beg.

He huffs and shakes his head, but he stops the frantic thrusts and slowly rolls his hips forward.

“Grumpy,” you murmur into his soft skin with a smile, meaning his name as he notches into that spot inside of you. Your eyes rolling back and stars appearing in your line of vision.

He hums and bites down on your chin. “Yes.” He grunts with every slow thrust. “I. Am.”

“But I like it,” you say, between breathy moans.

“I know you do.” He groans, pressing his lips to yours again. Kissing you softly as his hips slow down even more.

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he brings you closer to that edge, “I’m gonna cum,” you babble against his lips.

“Good.” He groans, flicking his tongue into your mouth to kiss you.

With a few more measured thrusts he has you falling off that edge, clamping down hard around him and whimpering into his mouth.

Dave finally feels like he can cum. Pushing through the tightness, to thrust deep. His neck muscles strain and he practically whimpers your name as he starts to cum.

“Dave,” you murmur as thick ropes start to paint your walls, his name lingering on your lips as you bite down onto his shoulders.

He lets you mark him, not jerking away as he rides out his high and groaning at how good it feels.

"Mine," you growl aggressively as you pull him closer to you, fingernails gripping into the meat of his ass as he thrusts into you.

Finally, he's spent, lowering himself down against you, though he keeps the majority of his weight on his elbows as he relaxes. "Fuck."

You giggle as he collapses on top of you, "Ready to go again, my love?"

"Jesus." He huffs. "I need a minute. Insatiable minx."

"I'm just kidding old man," you say as you wrap your arms tightly around him.

"Sure you were." He huffs, turning to kissing you softly and sighs.

"Are you ok?" You ask, hearing him sigh.

"'I am good." He promises, unable to put anything into words "How are you?"

"Are you sure?" You ignore his question, and raise your eyebrow. "Did I do something wrong?"

He frowns and shakes his head. "You didn't do anything wrong." He promises and kisses you once more. "You want to soak in a bath?" He asks

"Depends," you say, snuggling into him, "Are you going to join me?" 

"I need to do something in my office." He admits quietly. "Do you want me to draw you a bath?"

"Sure," you say, a little confused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good." He flashes you a grin. "Must be getting old." He jokes. "Becoming that old man you are always accusing me of being."

"I love that old man," you say, the words sliding off your tongue before you have time to restrain them. 

Dave frowns slightly but he leans forward to kiss you instead of commenting on it. "I'll go start your bath."

You see it, the way the corner of his lips fall down and it's like a shot to the chest but you refuse to ruin the moment by crying. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby girl." He's retreating and he knows he is, but he can't tell you something that he's not one hundred percent sure of. Still trying to tell himself that he's still the same, just using you for your innocence. He pulls out of you and climbs out of the bed, removing the cock ring as he disappears into the bathroom.

You bite down the tears threatening to fall and brush yourself off. Standing up and wrapping yourself in one of his shirts and perching yourself at the end of the bed, waiting for him to come out and tell you your bath is ready.

Inside the bathroom, Dave ignores his reflection and the things that are yours and turns towards the garden tub to turn on the water, adding the bubble bath you enjoy.

You listen to him move around and to the sound of the water filling the tub before deciding to just step into the bathroom, hoping that maybe that'll change his mind and he'll join you.

Dave is setting out your towel when you come into the bathroom. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you say softly, before dipping your fingertips into the tub to test the temperature, "Perfect."

"Good." He watches as you step into the tub. "You enjoy your bath, l'll bring you up a drink."

"You sure you don't want to join me," you say, as you sink down into the inviting waters. "Promise I'll give you a break. I just want to feel you.”

"Give me a few minutes." He gives in and nods. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," you say with a smile and a scrunch of your

nose.

"I know you will, you would live in that tub if I let you." Dave snorts and smirks at you in your bubbles.

"Hurry," you say, with a roll of your eyes, "It's lonely in here."

"Yep!" He raps the door frame with his knuckles. "Back in a sec."

You lay back against the tub, thinking through the last few minutes and wondering if you've really fucked this up. You look down at the bracelet still on your wrist and closely examine the 'D' on the clasp and sigh.

Downstairs, Dave hesitates at the bottom and rubs his hand down his face. This is getting too complicated, something he's never liked. He's already spent more time with you than he had with any other girl. Ignoring the urge to go back and read his journal, he walks into the kitchen to get you a drink.

The way he reacted to your slip up still has your heart aching, you know what this is, you know that this isn't love to him. He's never said or promised you anything along those lines and the look on his face spoke louder than any words

Instead of just grabbing a bottle of water, he opens up the bottle of wine he had bought you. It's a sweet wine, one you had tasted and said you liked. He knows your parents don't approve of you drinking anything but the sacrament wine, but this is another layer to his debauchery. Or that's what he tells himself rather than it being a cozy, romantic bath with a glass of wine.

Sinking below the water you don't hear him creep in, having dived underwater to disguise the tears that had welled up your eyes. 

Dave sets the wine glass down, along with a bottle of beer he prefers and even though he's rolling his eyes, he has picked up the little pre-made meat, cheese and cracker tray. Deciding that the bath was the perfect place to indulge in a restorative snack.

You slowly push yourself up from under the water and see him perched by the bath holding a glass of wine for you. "Hey," you say softly. "Are you getting in?" 

"Yeah." He grabs another towel and sets it next to yours. "I got us a drink and that snack thingy you wanted when you came back."

"Thank you." You take the glass of wine and shift down the bath slightly so he can slip in behind you.

Dave settles back against the tub and pulls you into his arms. "Lean back." He murmurs, even though he would normally tell you to lean back so he could play with your tits.

You do as he says exhaling happily as you lie against his chest. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," you say, your teeth immediately sinking into your bottom lip to stop the flow of tears threatening to spill. "It just slipped out."

"Don't." His clipped word hangs in the air for a moment. "Don't apologize." He manages. "It's okay."

"Okay," you say, barely above a whisper. You take a few sips of your wine and nibble on a cracker, still comfortably laying against him. "I promise I won't do it again, I don't want to upset or anger you.”

Dave doesn't say anything, doesn't know what to say. Instead he takes a sip of his beer and slowly starts to rub one of your nipples.

You place your hand on the top of his and just hold it still before picking it up and interlocking your fingers with his.

He doesn't pull his hand away, just letting your hands naturally fall and hold together over your stomach.

"I really don't want to go this evening," you say with a sigh.

"You need to." Dave reminds you, "You know you will be missed, again."

"Yeah." You say weakly, before closing your eyes and nuzzling back into him.

"Yeah, you'll go?" Dave asks. "Or yeah, I'm still not going?"

"Yeah, I'll go," you shrug, "Who doesn't love sitting in a room listening to a man drone on for hours and trying to work out which one of the guys there is the one who my parents have decided I'm going to marry."

"They wouldn't have picked yet." Dave huffs. "They are bluffing."

"Not according to my mom," you snort.

"Your father is going to wait until grades come out before he decides on anyone." He wagers.

"You're wrong," you say, visibly annoyed. "They told me they've found someone. They've had conversations with him, his parents and grandparents. I am the only person that doesn't know who it is." 

"So just say no." Dave snaps back at you. "You're an adult, you don't have to do what mommy and daddy want."

"Fuck you," you shoot back, "You have no idea." You grip onto the side of the tub and begin to lift yourself up.

"I have no idea?" He snorts. "You have no idea, no intention of standing up for yourself." Maybe you will do the work for him. Decide you are done and break things off so he doesn't have to think about how he can't end things with you.

You wrap the towel around yourself and just storm into the bedroom, feeling the tears you've been trying to hold back beginning to fall. He's right. You have no idea on how to stand up to your parents.

Dave sighs as you drip water all over the floor, the bath ruined. Feeling like the day has been ruined. Standing, he unstops the tub and starts cleaning it out, giving you space you want.

You perch yourself on your side of the bed, still only covered by your towel and let yourself cry. He will be out any second and you have no doubt he'll be sending you on your way.

Cleaning up the tub, he gathers up the tray of snacks, your wine and his beer to carry back into the bedroom. His own towel wrapped around his waist, he sees you crying and hates it.

You don't look at him as he enters the room, instead you just wipe your eyes and then stare down at the hand in your lap.

"I know it's hard for you." Dave murmurs after a few moments of chilly silence. "I just want you to stick up for yourself."

"It's easier said than done," you reply quietly, wiping away a fresh stream of tears.

"I know it is." He reminds himself that you are still very sheltered and innocent. "You will find the courage eventually." He predicts.

****

THE AFTERMATH.

It had been a whirlwind of a week, you had officially left St. Brennans and with Dave's support enrolled to start online classes in the upcoming fall.

He hadn't hesitated in asking you if you wanted to move in after the fight with your parents and the day after you cleaned out the rest of your things from your dorm and started to move them into your new home.

And now it's been a week, a week of hurtful voicemails and texts about how much of a disappointment you are and now your parents are standing at the doorstep of your home pleading for you to talk to them for just five minutes.

Dave slams the door in their face and turns towards you, a fierce frown on his face. "You don't have to talk to them, baby." He promises, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'll call the police if I have to."

"It's okay, baby," you say, before pressing your lips to his. "I want to show them that they haven't hurt me." You take a deep inhale and open the door. "You have five minutes."

Your hand is being tightly held by Dave as they walk past you both and towards the kitchen. 

Dave grunts unhappily as he follows them with you. "You will not yell at her, and you will not call her names." He lays down his rules immediately, giving them no chance to start. "Otherwise you leave immediately." He's not going to put up with your parents abusing you. Not in his house. If he had his way, they wouldn't speak to you ever again, but he won't make that decision for you.

They remain silent at his demands and that's when you catch her. She walks over to the chair, your chair, that Dave had bought you and begins to run her fingers across the soft fabric.

"You can't sit there," you say, immediately finding your voice as she tries to claim yet another thing from you.

The sound of your mother scoffing fills the room, yet she doesn't move. She just keeps admiring your chair and ignoring your requests to sit at the table. You see Dave's chest beginning to move more rapidly as she blatantly ignores you and before he has time to explode you take a step forward.

"Dave bought me that chair because I fell in love with it, it's mine and I'm asking you to stop and step away from it," you say, raising your voice just slightly.

"I am your mother and I will sit where I please," is all she responds and before you have time to realize what you're saying the words are floating in the air.

"If you knew the things he's done to me in that chair, you wouldn't want to be anywhere near it.

He actually hasn't done anything to you in that chair, but it's amusing how quickly your mother snatches her hand away from your chair and manages to look like someone rubbed dog shit right underneath her nose. It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad. "Sit down at the table." He orders both of them.

They both look at each other with disgust before sitting down, "We told Joshua's family that you have an appendicitis that burst," your father says plainly. "As far as he's aware this never happened and you can move on and marry him and we can put this whole charade behind us all."

"I'm marrying Dave, and I left a note in my dorm with the ring." You are absolutely gobsmacked at what your father is saying to you.

"The nice girl," your mom interrupts, "Deandra, she found the note and the ring and gave it to us. Joshua knows nothing. You are not marrying this man." 

"That's not up to you to decide." There's a new ring that will be sitting on your finger now. He had taken you to pick it out, deciding that you deserved to have the choice, although he had argued that the stone should be bigger. He had won that one. The ring should be ready to pick up sometime this coming week and he wants to see how it looks, all fitted properly.

Dave doesn't offer coffee or tea. He doesn't give a damn if they are comfortable or think that he's a good host.

"I am marrying Dave, I've officially left St. Brennans and I live here now... Can you just wait here for a moment? I want to show you something." You say before scurrying up stairs running as quickly as you can and collecting something from yours and Dave's bedroom.

You're clutching it in your arms as you sit down and you place it gently on the table, opening the box and twisting the little knob at the back. Your parents say nothing as the jewelry box springs to life and the row of ballerinas begin to move delicately.

"He saw this and he thought of me," you say, "Dave loves me. I love Dave. And I won't become bitter and twisted because I'm being forced to marry a man I don't love."

"He is too old for you." Your father scoffs. "We know what he is, what he does. He preyed on your weakness, your sinfulness." He pontificates, shaking his head. "You should be on your knees, begging God and us for forgiveness."

Dave reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and he pulls your hand up to kiss the back of it softly. He loves that you love that box. 

"You should be begging ME for forgiveness," you yell across the table, "I am your daughter and I've spent the majority of my life feeling like an inconvenience because neither of you are capable of love." You shake your head scoff before resuming your rant, "How dare you come into our house and speak about him like that? What about what you do and what you've done? What about all the times you left me alone in that house fucking terrified because you didn't want to deal with the responsibility of having a child? I would never do to a child what you did to me.”

"You were never in danger." Your mother huffs. "We were doing important work. Serving God, as you need reminding to do." The righteous sense of self importance drips off of every word.

"I was a child alone in a house." You scoff. "I was like 5 when you started leaving me. I was terrified. All of my childhood memories feel like weapons. Fully loaded and ready to strike me down." You feel an anger burn in your chest like never before, "I'm done. I don't have any interest in seeing either of you ever again.

There's a moment when you look like you are going to cave just as soon as the indignant squawking starts but Dave simply stands up and pulls you into his arms. "Please leave."

He makes sure he keeps his first ask polite so if this blows up, he can say he asked them to leave. "You are not allowed to hurt her anymore. She doesn't want to talk to you, so please leave.”

"Don't come back," is all you add. Resting your head against Dave's shoulder as you watch them get up to leave.

"He's going to wake up sooner than you're expecting and realize that you're not worth his time," your mother says, "You'll have nowhere to go. No one to turn to. You'll have nothing. Just like you deserve."

"She will have me." Dave snorts. "I am not going to abandon her. I'm giving her the freedom of choice, which was all she ever wanted. I love her, more than you could ever comprehend. And when we do have kids, they will never grow up like she did." 

His hold on you tightens as you look up at him and smile, before turning back to them, "Leave. Now."

They obviously don't want to, protesting and Dave just shakes his head. "She told you to leave."

"Do you really want to make this more difficult?" you say with a roll of your eyes, "Do you think an arrest is going to look good for you both?"

He smirks at the shocked expression on their faces that you would threaten such a thing. They have probably never imagined their daughter standing up to them. "Fine." Your father spits, glaring at the two of you like you are possessed. "Don't bother calling us when he leaves you pregnant and broke."

"I'll get a good divorce lawyer," you mock, as they scramble out the door.

As the door is yanked open, Dave busts out laughing at your comment.

You listen for the door to slam shut before spinning around and wrapping your arms around Dave. "You still haven't fucked me in that chair, you know?"

"I know." He hums, holding you tighter and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's your chair." He reminds you, rubbing your back proudly. "I love you, baby. Don't let them make you doubt that."

"Still get chills every time you say that to me," you admit, "I love you more. They have no influence on me whatsoever."

"I think we should move." Dave admits, wondering what you would think about that. "I've been talking to another college, a beach town." He figured that your parents wouldn't go to the school, and they hadn't, but he had been thinking about a fresh start for both of you. 

"As long as I can bring my beautiful chair, l will follow you anywhere. Say it again." 

He smirks and leans in to kiss your lips. "I love you, baby." He whispers. "Forever."

#pedro pascal #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york smut #dave york equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #dave york x f!reader #professor!dave york #religious corruption

[thesnowfelled]

This is a tag drop for   LUCY WILLIAMS  from the Fandomless   ( ship exclusive with @fatalflcws​ ) . It covers desires, interactions, answered, headcanon, isms, visage. 

* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : desires. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : interaction. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : answers. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : headcanon. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : edit. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : isms. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. * … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : visage. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york.

#* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : visage. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : isms. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : edit. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : headcanon. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : answers. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : interaction. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #* … ( LUCY WILLIAMS : desires. ) ⠀ › ⠀ and I choose you. the one I was DANCING with in new york. #tag drop

[heythrrdelilah]

Choose

Summary: New York City life gets a little lonely until you have too many choices

Pairings: timothee chalamet x F!reader, Austin Bütlér x F!reader

Warnings: honestly expect pure filth. Mmf but the males are straight and don't interact

Word count: 2,925

Authors note: it's been a while and this may or may not be loosely based on a random detailed dream I had the night before last also please know I'm not usually a smut writer and it's been ages so bare with me please

The dim lit bar was roaring with voices as the rush hour for bars came. You regretted letting your friend talk you into coming out. You would much rather be sitting on your couch with a fantasy novel and a cup of lavender tea, but your best friend and roommate was persistent. “See! Lavender vodka cocktails! I told you you could still get lavender tea!” She pulled you by your wrist to the bar. This was one of the many popular bars in New York so you had to squeeze between shoulders to even reach the counter. “You know it's not the same thing, right? It's important for me to know that you know that,” you questioned your friend with a brow raised, she threw her hair over one shoulder and rolled her eyes. Instead of responding she just ordered a lavender vodka lemonade for you and a planters punch for herself.

“Just don't leave me tonight. I didn't feel like coming but if you leave me alone this is the last time,” you sternly state as you wait for your drinks. After people had their orders in, the crowd around the bar became smaller and people were now gathered around tables and leather couches. The bar theme was modern chic. Crystal dim lighting, black leather couches around marble tables. You and your roommate definitely could not afford to drink here, especially on a regular basis, but she insisted that the only way to find a decent man was in high end bars. Not that you were looking.

“It will be fun! Go find a table, I'll wait for the drinks,” she instructed, clearly scouting the crowd. You pushed off of your elbows and looked around for an empty table. It was no surprise when every table and couch were full. You found an empty spot on a wall and leaned up against it.

“This should cheer you up, I got that guy to pay for our drinks,” meg, your roommate and best friend, handed you your glass and nodded towards a blonde man in an army green jacket who was staring in their direction. He had a nice smile and tilted his glass to Meg with a wink. It was painfully obvious that you were going to be left alone at some point tonight. “go for it,” you sighed. She shook her head, her red hair swaying with every turn, “he can wait for it. I need to let the anticipation build. For now, let's talk about your day, drink up and dance.” There wasn't much to dance to as today's rap hits played low level. “my day is never as interesting as yours. I just work at an unknown radio station. You're the celebrity photographer,” you say with a bit of laughter.

“You're just getting your start. Besides I'm just the photographer for BuzzFeed. it's my start too. But okay,” she began talking about the shoot she had just done for the cast of the Dune series. Meg was good about making the biggest celebrities sound like just a group of co-workers. The Dune cast had some of the biggest names in Hollywood but here she was talking about how Batista couldn't stay serious the entire shoot.

You moved on to her plans next week to shoot a rom com cast on Monday when a group walked into the bar and heads were turning from every direction. “meg, isn't thats the Dune cast,” you pointed out the obvious. You tried to keep your composure as Timothee chalamet was your biggest celebrity crush and he was walking in the doors. People brought out there phones and snapped a few pictures with it being a high class bar in New York City, it wasn't a huge deal.

Meg smiled wide and waved at the group. They spotted her and waved back as they began walking towards us. “what up?” Timothee shouted playfully as he hugged Meg. “If we had known you were coming to the same bar when you said you were going out later, we could have just left the office together!” Zendaya laughed giving Meg a one armed hug. Meg pointed to me, “this one needed a Friday night out so I had to stop home anyways.”

Florence smiled, “I needed to change anyways. That was probably one of the most fun shoots I've had for an interview though. Can we buy you girls drinks?” Florence looked to you and put her hand gently on your shoulder, “I'm so sorry, I'm Florence what's your name?” You told the group your name and Zendaya was laughing wrapping her arm around Florence, “yeah Flo she was standing herebthe whole time and we didn't even ask her name. No wonder people think celebrities are rude as hell. I'm Z this is Timothee and Austin.” You waved smiling, “it's nice to meet you all. I promise I'm not the loser I just sounded like I just prefer staying home.” They all nodded. Florence laughed, “I feel that heavily. Alright let's get some drinks at the bar and come back. the waiters here are too busy.”

While the cast walked off to get their drinks, a Waitress brought us two drinks we didn't order, the same ones we had as a first round. “they're from that gentlemen. Don't worry I prepared them and came right back this way,” she winked, obviously referring to how awful the world was. Meg blushed, her blue eyes wandering over to the blonde man from earlier. He was looking adoringly at her, blushing, he smiled and took a drink of his.

The group came back with their assortment of drinks in hand. After a few short minutes of sharing fun memories of the photoshoot earlier, Meg took a step back from your now formed circle, “you have no idea how much I want to stay and chat but I've been working on that,” she motioned to the blonde man, “for the past hour and I think it's time I stop his longing and say hi. You guys are amazing. Glad you're here to keep my bestie entertained, if you want of course okay bye!” She rambled, took a deep breath, and smoothly turned around with a look of curiosity.

“Shes good,” Florence complimented with a smile of approval and admiration. “so, where are you from?” Timothee immediately asked after taking a shit of his dark and smokey. His green eyes were fixed on yours, seemingly genuinely interested as one of his brows was up. You told him, and without hesitation asked another question, “what brings you to the city?” You didn't want to tell him the entire story about how you are a 24 year old divorcee so you just said work. “I wouldnt think someone who looks like you would be doing radio. A face like yours deserves to be seen,” Austin suddenly chimed in, saying the first words he's said all night. You blushed. Anyone would at those words spoken with his deep raspy voice.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from showing your blushing. You took a sip of your drink. “Oh come on Austin you started off too strong,” Timothee chuckled. You didn't know what was happening. Zendaya and Florence burst out with laughter before wrapping one arm around each other, “too much testosterone. (Y/n) we will be over here people watching if you find this,” Zendaya used her hand to motion the guys, “disturbing.” Then they walked away. Both guys took a step forward, causing your to take a step back, placing your back against the wall. They were standing in front of you just a ruler length away.

You felt nervous. A tingling sensation overcame your stomach among other places. “do you guys have a bet or something?” You didn't want to fall for it if it was some joke. They were two of the biggest celebrities at this time and they were seemingly coming onto you. Both with girlfriends. “yeah, a bet of who could bring home the most beautiful woman in the room,” Austin stated, looking into your eyes intensely. The bar suddenly felt like a heater was turned up. You held your composure. “You both have girlfriends if the news sources are correct,” you retorted. They shook their heads, “PR” they said simultaneously. They could be lying. It was almost as if they read your mind, contracts between manages about it. Weird they just have it ready but they most likely had to do it often.

You played it cool and finished your drink without saying a word, or tasting it as you chugged it. “I'm going to grab another drink, go check on Meg and go home. You two can decide who is coming with me,” you would never have had the confidence to say the last part without liquid courage. Good thing you were at a bar. You walked between them as if they were saloon doors and tried your best not to look back. You saw Zendaya and Florence applauding and nodding with approval. Zendaya even pumped her fist mouthing “hell yeah.”

You leaned both of your elbows against the bar and flagged down the bartender. You ordered a long island iced tea with a lemon and a lavender garnish. You were going to need all the confidence you could muster up. However you could.

You told the bartender you would be back for it after freshening up. You walked swiftly to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You regretted not going for a bit of a glam look but your “clean girl aesthetic” makeup would have to do. You looked to the other woman in the mirror who was fixing her mascara. Your expression must have been easy to read because she smiled big saying, “girl I got you!” The raven haired woman who looked at least 5 inches taller than you, reached into her clutch and pulled out a mini contour kit. “I saw you talking to the cast of Dune? Do you know them?” She questioned. You shook your head, “my best friend, practically sister does.” The woman brushed some highlight powder lightly across your cheeks,” Just enough to make some features pop, you don't want to change too much because it will look like you changed for them since they've already seen you.” she closed the kit, “good luck you are my hero.” She fixed my sweater so that it drapes over one shoulder, taking my academia look up a notch since my flowy long skirt couldn't be helped.

You weren't in the bathroom long because your drink was just being made when you got back to the counter. You took your drink and looked for Meg. Thankfully she was still there, giggling and caressing the mans bicep. She definitely wasn't coming home alone tonight. You walked over and dipped your drink, “I didn't want to interrupt but I'm headed home will you be okay?” You waited for the code word in case of danger, it never came. “I think we might stay out a bit. This is Taron. Taron this is, (y/n). Please stay out with us! You might meet someone!” She was glowing. Whatever this guy was saying to her was the cause of said glow. You smirked, shaking your head, “who said I'm going home alone?” Megs brows raised and she nodded, “okay go ahead.” She hugged you then whispered, “proud of you.” You took a breath and walked back to the guys. They were chuckling but stopped and went back to having swagger or as the kids would call it these days “rizz” which you learned meant charisma.

“Did you decide?” You lifted a brow, finishing your drink. They looked at each other and nodded as if they had some agreement. Austin took a step forward and leaned over to whisper in your ear, his low tone making a shiver to down your spine, “we actually couldn't decide.” Timothee stepped forward, Austin not moving, and leaned over to whisper in your other ear, “so let us both have you. Tonight. Then you will decide which one of us can take you to a dinner tomorrow night.” The last sentence was a demand and it sent your body into a frenzy but you kept your composure. You didn't say anything, you took a step back, put your glass on the counter and kept walking towards the door. You turned around before you got out of ear shot as they were both shrugging off disbelief they were rejected. But they weren't.

“Well? You boys coming or do I have to take care of myself after that?” They both perked up immediately and were practically tripping over their own feet as they said their goodbyes to Z and Flo.

You all stumbled out of the bar. Someone must have alerted the paparazzi and some fans, probably via deuxmoi, because there were cameras flashing outside the bar and you all stopped every few steps for them to take selfies with some fans. Austin finally said to the fans, “sorry guys, we are trying to catch up with an old friend tonight but we will be around tomorrow if we didn't manage to get to you.” we walked swiftly into the nearby metro station, “we are going to our hotel right?” Timmy asked as they managed to keep their heads down going down the steps. “no,” you shook your head, “you don't need to impress me with your 5 star hotels. It's already happening. My place is two blocks away.” They shrugged and followed you to your apartment, keeping their heads down as much as possible.

You reached your two bedroom small apartment quickly and kicked your boots off at the door. They followed suit. “your room, gorgeous?” Austin pointed to the door that had stickers of book titles all over the door. You nod once as he grabs your wrist and leads you slowly to your door timothee following you both and locking your bedroom door behind himself.

Timmy didn't hesitate to move your hair away from your neck and trail kisses down your neck and to your shoulder that was exposed on the one side. Austin gripped your face with his hand gently and kissed you passionately with just the right amount of tongue. Timmys hands went under your sweater, lifting it from your body, breaking your kiss with Austin briefly. When Austin's lips returned to yours his hand was gripping your hair now, you were getting weak in the knees.

Timothee used one ringed finger to trace the outline of your torso and gripped your breasts from under your bra before releasing them using his other hand. Timmy reached his head around you to place a breast in his mouth and push Austin away in one motion. He got down on his knees before you and slowly pulled your skirt and thong off in one go. “Bed. Now,” Austin demanded. He pulled his shirt off and Timmy followed suit. You lay on the bed, your ass aligned with the edge and Austin quickly found his way between them, trailing soft, ticklish kisses down your thighs in a teasing manner. Timmy began unbuttoning his own pants as Austin worked his tongue around your clit. You arched your back and moaned in pleasure with your hand gripping Austin's hair. Timothee got on the bed and kissed you passionately.

“Suck it for me?” Timmy smiled, his bedroom eyes arousing you. You nod and Austin grabs your hips, flips you around and has you in doggy style. He still works his tongue as you place Timothee into your mouth. Timothee groans and Austin inserts himself into you, slowly, teasingly for the first few thrusts. Then hard, causing you to scream in pleasure then slow again.

The two take turns on you, sometimes just watching you with the other but neither interacting with each other minus a few compliments and “damn bro she's loving this” comments. Two men so comfortable with their own sexuality made them even more attractive to you.

When you finished, you realized an hour and a half had passed. Austin lay on your bed staring at the ceiling repeating “wow” and “incredible” timothee pulling his boxers back on. Austin looked like he needed a breath so naturally, “timothee?” You beconed as you stood at your bathroom door naked, “shower with me?” he ripped his shorts off and joined you.

“Decided who you wanted to go to dinner with?” Timmy smirks the next morning, assuming he was the clear winner in his own head. You hadn't decided yet. They both slept on the floor. “leave your numbers on that notebook and I'll call one of you later,” you instructed. The both wrote their numbers down and you all walked out to your kitchen. Meg was sitting there drinking her coffee, which caused you to turn bright red. The guys were blushing too. “‘morning,” timothee blushed and waved to meg. She looked surprisingly well rested and didn't have the blonde with her.

“It was nice seeing you again,” Austin spoke to meg, his cheeks bright red as you moved towards the door. They put their shoes on and you let them out. “you'll actually call right?” Timothee asked with a nervous smile. “I guess you'll see,” you stated before closing the door and joining meg at the counter. “im seeing Taron for a proper date tonight but you…you have some explaining to do,” she stated while pouring your coffee.

#timmy tim #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #austin butler #austin butler one shot #timothee x y/n #timothee x reader #austin butler x reader #dune part two

[11vr1]

Now hear me out here… Miles Earth 42 x F!Reader dancing Bachata🤭 Orrr something like they are at a party and a family friend decides to dance a rather romantic song with us so Miles gets jealous. So many different scenarios with Bachata and dancing I wouldn’t mind fluff either where like they dance in the living room or smth I just love Bachata and romantic dancing ♥️😊

-J

Eres Mía ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › Miles gets jealous and a nearly gets into a fight, so he makes it up to you by teaching you bachata.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › Request.

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, tooth rotting fluff, swearing, bad Spanish, jealousy, pet names, a tiny bit suggestive

P.S. › Thank you for this ask! I had so much fun. A nice change from the angst. <33

P.S.S. › I am now making a taglist!!! Lemme know if you wanna be on it. I also think I want to find mutuals and get more involved in the community…

When Miles asked Y/n to be his plus one, she almost couldn’t believe it. His delivery was cool and casual as if he didn’t invite her to a party with all of his family and closest family friends in attendance. They had become official a little over a month ago (though Miles swears it’s been longer), so the first family gathering was a big deal, a huge milestone most couples put off until much later. When she tried to explain to her boyfriend the significance of this event, he didn’t understand. “Don’t start stressin’. It’s jus’ my abuela’s birthday party,” she remembered him saying.

Abuela?

Abuela!

If his grandmother was anything like Rio Morales, Y/n would be walking into a lion’s den. Miles did nothing to placate her worries, making her do the exact thing he told her not to do: worry.

The weekend had arrived and so did the much anticipated birthday party. Y/n spent a considerable amount of time getting ready, choosing a tie front top with a cami underneath and satin skirt to combat the sweltering city heat. She double checked every angle in the mirror before leaving her apartment.

The corners of the gift envelope addressed in her elegant script were slightly bent from being clutched in her nervous hands all the way to Harlem. It was easy to find the building. Y/n simply followed the booming sound of music and laughter to the rooftop. The party was already in full swing. Half of New York showed up to celebrate Gloria Morales’ 70th birthday.

Y/n moved through the packed party-goers to the gift table, not seeing a single familiar face amongst them. She felt out of place. Does she introduce herself? Wait? Look for Miles? Certainly he wouldn’t leave her to brave his family alone. A tinge of panic settled in her stomach as she looked again.

“You lost, babygirl?” Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin hearing a strange voice beside her. The boy was taller than her and around her age or a little older. His feather duster of a mustache curved with his smirk as his leering eyes roved her head to toe slowly. Painfully slow.

She prickled, immediately raising her guard. “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” He glanced around, seeing everyone engrossed in their own conversations.

“I ain’ never seen you round here before. What’s your name?” Y/n hesitated to answer, but gave him a curt reply. “Thas cute. Real cute.” This was a party after all, the point was to mingle. And she didn’t want to seem rude. She had no idea who this guy was. He might’ve been a cousin, a family friend, someone who could easily say the wrong thing to the right person about her. “You know how to dance?” The night was starting to look very long.

Where was Miles?

⋆

Miles was very late. On his way, but late. His mother has surely noticed his absence by now. Abuela was definitely asking about him. And Y/n…she was probably already there. He cursed himself underneath his mask. That last job was pushing it. There was no time to go home, change, and take the subway like he originally planned. Luckily, he knew a shortcut through the skyscrapers and shadows of New York.

The window of his abuela’s apartment squeaked as it slid open. Miles rushed to shed his Prowler persona in the guest bedroom and stuff the suit in his bag. In a second, he appeared to be a normal teenage boy despite the forming bruises. He prepared himself to face the wrath of his mother, grandmother, and girlfriend. What he was not prepared for was seeing Y/n about to be pulled to the dance floor by another guy. They were close. Too close for his liking.

Something burned inside Miles, one he was reluctant to identify—jealousy. Dare he say doubt? He was new to the boyfriend thing. Sometimes he said the wrong thing, silent at the wrong times. But he tried. Was Y/n already fed up? There was no denying she was gorgeous. She could pull any guy she wanted.

He stalked closer, effortlessly weaving through the crowd. “Oh, come on! I’m not asking you to marry me. Just one song.” The guy tugged at her again. Miles recognized him. Eric and his family were friends, though Miles only endured his presence when they were forced to be in the same place. They’d never gotten along, finding each other to be a nuisance and a relationship beyond neutrality unnecessary. But that little understanding might just end right here, this was not about to fly on his watch.

“I told you I don’t want to dance,” Y/n separated herself out of his grip. The sheer expression of disgust on her amused Miles. She found him as annoying as he did.

Eric made the mistake of reaching towards her again. He had the chance to back off and it sounded like he had been warned more than once. This was not about to fly. Miles decided it was time to interfere. He swiftly placed himself at Y/n’s side, his footsteps soundless, a skill learned from his…side hobby. “La escuchaste, cabrón. Retrocede.” Venom laced his tone, an unspoken threat at the tip of his tongue. The air turned to ice around the three of them. You heard her, cabrón. Back off.

The confidence drained from Eric’s face. He knew good and well Miles was not to be messed with. There were rumors about him and his penchant for beating anyone who pissed him off into the ground. “Ella es tu chica, Morales?” He stepped up to him in a vain attempt to mask how intimidated he really was. Miles moved Y/n behind him. She watched the standoff silently, keeping a hand on Miles’ bicep in case it went south. She’s your girl, Morales?

Miles tilted his head, sneering down at the posturing fool. “Sí, ella es mía. Ahora déjala.” Yeah, she’s mine. Now leave her alone.

“No estaba tratando de hacer nada,” Eric scoffed. He turned his attention back to the pretty girl hidden behind Miles. “If you get tired of this asshole, come find me.” I wasn’t trying to do nothing.

Miles lunged, thankfully, with some supernatural girlfriend sense, Y/n was quicker and held him back. Eric flinched, his fear visible for that split second. Heads turned. “You need to calm down, Miles.” Her hand made its way into his, gently pulling him away. He backed away, never breaking his cold glare from Eric.

⋆

Together they left the party. Miles muttered curses in Spanish Y/n couldn’t catch as he stomped down the stairs. “Miles! Miles, baby, slow down!” She called his name again. “You not ‘bout to make me run after you in these shoes!” He stopped. His jaw was tight, eyebrows set low on his face, hands burrowed in his pockets to hide his balled up fists. Damn. Even seething he was gorgeous. “We talked about this. You gotta talk to me.”

He was silent for a few moments, he merely stared down at Y/n as she wrapped her arms around his middle. His heart pounded in his chest. (It was because of her. Miles refused to admit those lustrous eyes and her touch still had such an effect on him) “Ian like seein’ you wit him. Shit pissed me off. For a minute I thought…” She fixed his collar, avoiding his gaze to keep herself from smiling. “Nothin’.” Miles was jealous and willing to protect her by any means necessary.

Y/n heard the words left unspoken. Miles was a fortress locked up tight to keep the outside world out. But behind his many walls he was a boy with feelings and insecurities. “Miles, I’d never do that. I like you too much.”

“Yeah, I know, ma. Sorry for gettin’ all upset.”

“‘S fine. That’s not what I’m mad about.” She eyed the fresh bruises coloring his cheek and temple. “Where were you?” At this point, she was more concerned than angry. Miles wasn’t inclined to long conversations, but he was decent enough to send her a text. Although dry and vague it was something. Y/n would take what she could get.

Miles stiffened in her embrace. “I had to take care of some stuff. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Lemme make it up to you.”

“You owe me a dance.” Prying it out of him would get her nowhere. She decided to let it go. Just this once.

“A dance?” he asked. She grinned, happy to catch him off guard for once.

Y/n nodded. “Mrs. Morales told me you’re a wonderful dancer. Don’t be holdin’ out on me.”

His sigh was long and deep, directed towards the ceiling of the narrow hallway. Miles was in no place to refuse. He took her hand and started walking. “Alright, but we not goin’ to the roof.”

He led her to his grandma’s apartment. It was sizable and definitely decorated by an elderly woman. Y/n admired the photos sitting on the mantle. There was Rio and Jefferson Davis, dressed in white for their wedding day. She paused on a picture of an infant covered in paint, smiling from ear to ear with two teeth. She awed at Miles. He was so cute, so carefree without the shadows of the world dragging behind him.

“Ven aquí, mami.” He stood in the middle of the living room, hands outstretched, a song playing behind him from his phone. She peeked at the song as they joined hands. Come here, mami.

“Eres Mía” by Romeo Santos.

The song was unfamiliar to her. “What? You thought you was gonna to twerk and grind on me?” His low chuckle sent shivers through her. She didn’t answer. “Nah. We gon dance for real. Bachata.”

“Wait, Miles. I don’t how to—”

“Imma teach you. Two steps to the music. Thas all it is,” he showed her. Y/n mimicked him, each step hesitant and unsure, but Miles was encouraging and a surprisingly good teacher. “See? Easy.”

He raised his arms to spin her around and brought her closer. Y/n faltered. “Aye, come on, mami. I know you can move your hips better than that.” He repositioned, hands at her back and waist, his thigh between her legs, ruffling her skirt. Miles guided her across the floor, his fingers wandering to the trim of her cami, drawing a distracting trail of heat on her bare skin. Her own hands found their way to his nape, brushing his twin braids as they swayed to the beat. Soon she found her rhythm.

“There you go,” he praised, rolling his hips into hers. She followed. Her body trusted him. She trusted him wholeheartedly and fell into his lead.

They rocked together in silence, the song having long since ended. Miles nestled in the crook of her neck to breathe in the sweet scent of her perfume. “Thank you for helping me. I should have said so earlier,” Y/n said from above him.

“It’s my job, princesa.” Miles left the softness of her neck. “Eres mía.” You are mine. Y/n blinked while he returned to her warmth. She hoped he didn’t feel the way her temperature rose.

In three short months he made a place for himself in her life. He was the most unexpected surprise. She had a list of the ideal boyfriend and Miles Morales didn’t check off a single one. Yet everything never felt more perfect than in his arms, dancing to the distant sirens and traffic.

His phone buzzed from the end table. “Is that your mom?” He shrugged in response. “We should go.” Y/n suggested, but Miles’ grip only tightened.

“One more minute. They can wait.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿ #iivri mail ·♡˖﹒ ₊˳ #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles g morales #miles morales prowler #prowler miles #atsv x you #astv miles #spider man: across the spider verse #miles spiderverse #fluff #marvel

[stagkingswife]

Around the holidays I had the unique joy of meeting up with @windvexer in person while they were visiting my beloved New York City.  Over sushi, dessert, and then just hanging out in their hotel lobby we had a wide ranging conversation about our practices, UPGs, etc.  The conversation eventually drifted to comparing our spirit lead initiations.  Chicken’s story is theirs to share, or not, as they choose. But I’ve been thinking a lot since that conversation about my own initiation and how it parallels another important story in my life. 

When I was 15 I was a dancer and I was good, like competing at a national level.  I was cast as Odette in my ballet school’s adaptation of Swan Lake.  I practiced, and rehearsed, and trained all year long for the role. Then a month before recital weekend my family and I went on a weekend trip to Gettysburg. I also love history, and my dad and I had just read a book about the battle of Gettysburg together, so we clambered all over the battlefield.  I tore a calf muscle doing this.  I saw my usual doctor for injuries and wore a cast for three weeks, walked through rehearsals, took it easy.  Once the cast was off a week before the recital I ramped up slowly, warmed up more than usual, stretched carefully, everything.  But come recital weekend I danced my heart out and left everything on the stage.  3 weeks later I was diagnosed with CRPS in the leg I had injured. What does any of this have to do with my initiation?  Everything, just bare with me. 

My childhood mentor had been initiated by the spirits of her tradition, and she had spoken to me about the effect this had had on her.  I had written an academic paper on initiatory spiritual traditions and the phenomena of initiation sickness.  I knew, long before Oisin ever broached the topic with me, that a spirit lead initiation could wreck your life, that it would be trying in ways that were specifically designed to change you on a fundamental to suit the spirit's needs, and that undertaking one would have consequences I couldn’t even begin to image.  I also knew that dancing Swan Lake one week out of a cast could have disastrous results for my dance career.  But I loved the music and choreography.  I loved how I felt while I was dancing.  So I danced.  I was already in love with Oisin when he presented me with this trial. I loved learning from him, and working with him, and if there was something hard, even something impossible, that he needed me to do so that I could keep learning and working with him - it was no question. 

I had no way of knowing when I was teenager waiting in the wings in my white leotard and feathered wig that I was about to dance my last ballet.  That in less than a year I would start using a cane, or that I would one day swap the cane for a wheelchair, or any of the changes and accommodations that I’ve had to make in my life for my disability.  I only knew the love. When I said yes to Oisin I couldn’t have predicted how much it would break me when he killed my soul, dismembered it, and scattered the innumerable shreds across the Otherworlds.  I could have imagined the amazing and terrifying things I saw and experienced on my journey to find those fragments and assemble myself - or what it was like to live without a complete soul in the meantime. And nothing could have prepared me for the permanent changes the whole process had wrought on my life: on my physical health, my mental health, the very fact that my spiritual oaths and promises must always come first for me.  I only knew the love. 

17 years after my diagnosis, and 13 after my initiation started, I look back at the choices that led to both and would make them both again, even knowing the consequences.  These two choices, more than almost anything else in my life, have shaped who I am as an adult and I like that person.  These choices came from the right place, both times.  Not from ambition, greed, guilt, or fear, but love.  And I can’t ever regret what I did for love.

#witchcraft #pagan #the returning #spirit work #initiation #spirit lead initiation

[screamdream3828]

would you be able to do a love triangle trope between tara and sam x reader

both sisters catch feelings for their friend/roommate but reader ends up choosing one of them (you can choose) one would get jealous of the other when they’d flirt with you but eventually they talk it out and are cool about it

Sure! Final request I had left to write in my inbox and was a fun one. Hope you enjoy!

When you answer an anonymous ad seeking a female housemate in a very nice, very affordable flat in New York, you don’t expect to find yourself in the middle of a love triangle.

Not between the two girls you now live with - Sam and Tara. And certainly not between two sisters.

Things start out well at the flat. You aren’t stupid or oblivious, and recognise the girls instantly. New York is a fair way from Woodsborough, but pretty much everyone had heard the ghostface stories.

You resolved to never bring it up, and instead tried to build a friendship with the sisters. 

Tara, like you, was studying at Blackmoore college. Something you both bonded over, and begun to spend time on campus - eating lunch, study sessions - anything really.

She was a sweet person. Funny, despite all of the hardships life had thrown at her. Your phone was full of texts, pleas to come out to some random party she had been invited to you.

You almost always agreed, because even after only knowing her for weeks - you couldn’t say no to Tara Carpenter.  

She’d dance you around the room, hands around your waist. You’d giggle, drunk off whatever wine she’d hand you.

Sometimes you’d catch her looking at you, unreadable expression on her face. She’d shake out of it quick, and distract you with a quick joke.

You couldn’t deny she was attractive. Very much so. But she wasn’t the only Carpenter sister you had bonded with.

Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met before. She was a few years older, and much more guarded initially.

At first, she’d make polite small talk but keep the conversation brief and never want to hang out.

From Tara, you learnt how she alternated her time between her two jobs, therapy and being home.

She carried a crazy amount of self defence weaponry at all times too, understandable after everything she had been through.

It took time for her to warm to you, to trust that you weren’t some sick person with an ulterior motive. 

When she started to open up, you realised that she was more than the overprotective, sometimes aggressive woman portrayed throughout the media.

One time, you joined her on a grocery run when a group of teens called out insults and jeers. You watched as her knuckle tightened around the trolley handle, whitening instantly and a vein flickering.

You hadn’t intended on doing it, but your hands moved on their own accord to press over hers. “Ignore them. They want a reaction”

And she had looked back at you. Properly seeing you, as if for the first time. Her mouth flickered into a half smile, then set into a determined line and she nodded - continuing to push the trolley and ignore the group.

Something was different with her after that day, gone were the awkward smiles and polite attempts at small talk. She even invited you to her local gym, seeing you make morning commute across the city.

You’d hold the pads up as she laid blows against them, grumbling about how people needed to get a life and mind their own business.

There was little you could do to help. You hadn’t experienced the events firsthand, so didn’t exactly know what it felt like.

But you gave Sam a chance to vent, and listened as she unloaded all of her problems onto the pads - but also to you.

It wasn’t one sided either. When your creepy ex wouldn’t stop showing up at your class, Sam had frowned deep and thought for a moment.

He didn’t show up to your class again, and a rumour circulated that he had a broken nose and jaw. Of course you didn’t know for sure it was Sam, but her satisfied smirk gave it away easily. 

She was the opposite to her sister, more guarded and uptight to Tara’s easygoing nature. To be honest it sometimes gave you whiplash - hanging out with each of them. 

The atmosphere also felt different when you hung out one on one compared to a group setting. 

You caught Sam checking you out too, when you finally convinced her to come to a party - eyes drawn to your tight red dress. 

At first, you tell yourself maybe they both find you attractive. Some innocent flirting doesn’t hurt anyone.

Then one night as you cook dinner together and drink far too much red wine, Sam dances you around the kitchen and presses her mouth to yours.

You don’t kiss back at first. More stunned than anything. But her hands are in your hair, and arms grip your waist. So you clutch her cheek and kiss back hard.

She pulls away, dazed and you can’t help but smile at the look on her face. Your red lipstick is smeared across her mouth and you grab a napkin to wipe it away.

”That...”

The door swings open though, mid sentence - and Tara walks in. “Hey that smells good! What’s for dinner?” 

You turn to reply, napkin waving loosely from your hand. By the time you turn back, Sam is gone and you’re left to wonder what is happening.

...

She acts weird around you for the next few days, not meeting your eye and a lot more quiet than usual.

It confuses you, and makes you wonder if she regretted the kiss. Which doesn’t make sense considering she instigated it. 

Tara invites you out to the movies, and you agree - hoping it will be a welcome distraction. She doesn’t seem to notice the difference between the pair of you, and greets you with a smile as you begin to queue for snacks.

She’s dressed a lot less casual than you for a movie trip, white blouse and black skirt showing off an impressive amount of leg.

After grabbing too much candy and drinks, you take a seat at the backrow. It’s some corny action movie Tara wanted to see, and you’re happy just to be there.

Nothing is out of the ordinary as you both watch the movie, until you notice a pair of eyes gazing at you. 

Tara wears that same unreadable expression you see sometimes pop out at parties, and you can’t bring yourself to look away either - to break the eye contact.

She blushes though, and looks away. Maybe you overthought it, you reason and return to the movie. 

“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asks as you try to find the car parked outside the theatre. You hum and nod happily. “Sure”

She nods, cheeks blushing red. “Cool. That’s cool”

You laugh, she’s being out of character - too bumbling and nervous. “I..” her voice fades away and she shakes her head resolutely. “I’ll tell you at home”

The drive is short and it isn’t long before you’re chilling on the couch. “What did you want to tell me?” You murmur, distracted by a movie commercial on the tv.

Tara clears her throat. “I just wanted to say that I’ve always liked you” she bites her lip and you swallow hard. Oh. 

“Tara...” You begin, but she cuts you off - starting to ramble. “I know it’s weird because we’re housemates. And friends. But I’ve always thought you were so cool and...”

”Hey guys” Sam enters the room, expression falling slightly as she realises what you’re talking about. “Oh. Am I interrupting?” Her voice is rough and you feel stuck in the middle.

Tara shakes her head, “no it’s cool. We can hang out in my room. No worries. Right Y/N?” She’s beaming at you, clearly hoping you reciprocate her feelings.

But Sam’s looking at you too, something like hurt in her eyes. “Uhhh” you stammer, hands fidgeting in your lap.

Sam shrugs, leaning against the door frame. “No it’s fine. I can see you’re both busy. I’ll be in my room” she storms off and Tara giggles nervously.

”That was weird. I hope she doesn’t think it’s strange that I like you”

You don’t reply, wondering how you can manage to get out of the situation. You like Tara. She’s funny, and shares some classes with you.

But there isn’t that burning desire, that passion you felt when Sam grabbed your face. Your teeth gnaw at your lip and Tara frowns. “Hey what’s up?”

You don’t know how to say this. To tell her. She clearly likes you. And you like her sister. Who may not even like you back. Who maybe just kissed you as a once off.

What a mess, you think miserably. 

“Tara” You begin, voice gentle. “I..” your eyes are drawn to Sam’s door as you try and articulate your sentence. Tara’s eyes follow yours and her gaze softens as she seems to realise.

”Oh” she murmurs, more to herself. You decide to be honest. “Sam kissed me a few days ago”

Tara nods along, looking a bit surprised. “I didn’t know that” she pauses, biting her lip. ”And you like her?”

You can only nod, hands in your lap. She cracks a smile, soft. “That’s fine. That’s cool. You both deserve to be happy” she takes your hand and squeezes it as you breathe out a sign of relief.

”You still want to be friends?” You ask, and she laughs at this. “Of course I do!” She assures, hand on your shoulder. 

“You’re one of my best friends, I just want you to be happy”

Its like a weight lifted off your shoulders and you smile. Before you can add anything, she grabs you and walks you to Sam’s door.

”Now go get your girl” she teases, not meeting your eyes - giving you a little push.

She’s gone, back to her room, and as much as you hate to hurt her feelings - you’re glad it’s all out in the open now. You knock on Sam’s door and wait.

It takes a few tries until she appears, not meeting your eyes. “Hey look, I get if the other night was a mistake and..”

You step into her personal space, almost knocking the pair of you over as you collide lips hard. She reacts instantly, cupping your jaw and sliding her tongue past your lips.

Not even a moment later she breaks the kiss, and drops her forehead to yours. “What about Tara?” She asks, panting.

You sigh soft. “It’s you that I want Sam” you stroke her hair. “I told Tara. She’s my friend. But it’s you”

She grins at that, pulling you into her room with another kiss.

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