#how sexy am i now - dave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baronessvonglitter · 2 months

Text

if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 13 | "the best worst day of your life"

Dave York x f!Reader

Word count: 4,211

Summary: a little more backstory on the reader's complicated history with her father, and some slice of life moments you and Dave have to be quiet about. Oh, and there's a sex tape involved.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, use of weapons (gun range), fingering, restroom sex, unprotected piv, rough sex, slut shaming, oral (m & f receiving), facial, come eating, fluff(!), Dave is bad with feelings (ofc), TW for unaliving of a family member and themes of grief, Dave gets a lil bit stern with the wifey, reader wears lingerie and has hair long enough to pull, light bondage (reader has slight marks but otherwise unharmed), filming a sex act, there's a lot so if I've missed anything please let me know!

Author's Note: honestly I wrote this while in captivity (staying with family in the aftermath of the hurricane) and so it's quite meaty 😏 Guns freak me out, so knowing very little on the subject I did the most basic research on the handling of them so mistakes are likely. ALSO there is a brief mention of Robert McCall, though not by name, so it can be assumed that this takes place in a separate universe where the events of the film happen differently or not at all.

Series Masterlist

"Dominant hand on the grip, index finger on the trigger. But not yet," Dave adds, gently placing your index finger to the side as he helps you position the gun within your hands. "Support hand underneath," he says, placing your non-dominant hand where it should go. "This is how you keep control of the gun," he explains. "Keep your arms out straight, no bending. It makes it easier to hit your target."

It's exciting, you have to admit, holding a weapon in your hand. And with Dave behind you, his breath ghosting your ear as he gives you directions, it's sexy.

"When am I ever going to need to use this?" you ask, looking up at him through your protective goggles, batting your lashes at him.

"Sweetpea, you never know who the bad guys are," he murmurs, his hands stroking your sides. "Now get into position, feet shoulder-width apart."

You do as he says, keeping your arms straight, hands in position around your gun, finger inching towards the trigger.

"A couple deep breaths, in and out," he whispers into your ear. Damn, he loves the way you look like this, and as much as he wants to grab your ass, or plunge his hand deep into the front of your jeans to cup your drooling pussy, he knows it's safer not to do them while you have a gun in your hand.

"Hold your breath while you aim and shoot, and exhale after you take the shot. When you're ready, pull the trigger slowly." He dares a quick kiss to your cheek before setting your headphones back in place and his as well. He stands behind you at a small distance to let you do this on your own.

Deep breath in, out. Arms straight. Another breath in.. you aim, and your finger gently squeezes the trigger, and a shocking thrill goes through you as the gun fires. You exhale, inhale, and fire again at the white target outlined in black. You repeat until you've emptied the magazine and the paper target zips towards you on a string. There are bullet holes in the right shoulder, two in the chest, two completely off the mark, and one right through the head.

"Whoa, nice headshot," Dave says admiringly as you both remove your headphones.

You blush and beam with pride. "Really?"

"I thought you hadn't done this before," he casts a teasing glance at you, lips curled up in a smirk.

"I haven't!" you giggle. "God, it felt so good! I felt so powerful, so.."

Dave finds your enthusiasm endearing, and his cock twitches at how hot you looked shooting the target, the tautness of your limbs and the look of determination on your features. What he wants more than anything is to make you his, right here and now. He cups your face and kisses you, for the first time not caring if anyone around sees. Then he curls a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and leads you around the corner. "Not the most romantic place, but I can't wait," he says as he brings you inside and locks the door.

"I'm okay with the lack of romance," you giggle before he captures your lips in a savage kiss. "I bet you never brought your wife to a public restroom for a dirty quickie," you end on a gasp as his hand goes into the front of your pants, roughly shoving his fingers inside you, grinning when he finds you already drenched, fitting snugly around him, as he walks you to the sink, facing you forward as he towers behind you, pulling your jeans and panties down together, then his.

"No, she hasn't," he whispers in your ear. "She's not a cock-hungry little slut like you. Now bend that pretty ass over, sweetpea." He gives your ass a good smack as you do so, kneading your cheeks with his hands. There's no buildup, no foreplay, no taking his sweet time. He wants what he wants and right now that's you, your tight hole swallowing his cock, devouring it as he slams into you, hands on your shoulders as you flounder for purchase, ultimately resting your hands on the sides of the sink.

The unmistakable sounds of your flesh slapping with each thrust fills the air, resounds in the tiny, tiled room. Your strangled cries rise to his ears. You're trying to be quiet but he knows you can't last long without screaming his name, screaming obscenities. "Christ, are you coming already, sweetpea?" he teases, feeling the tense pulsing of your pussy around him, signaling your impending climax. "You're too easy. All I have to do is stick it in and you go crazy, huh?"

"Dave," you moan, shivering as you come undone around him, your cunt milking him, but he keeps going, intent on driving you crazy as you go over the edge as many times as he can get you to. The man is like a machine.

"Fuck yourself on me, baby," he says, hands off yours hips as he lifts your shirt, exposing your pink lacy bra. He pulls the cups down, freeing your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you move your ass against him, indeed fucking yourself on him until you come again, a high-pitched squeal emanating from your sweet lips.

"There's my good little cumslut.. look how fucking wrecked she is.." he holds your face up to the mirror. "Tits hanging out, panties pulled all the way down, pussy stuffed with my fat cock.. she just wants to be used, wants my cum. That right, sweetpea? You want my cum?" He smirks as you nod. "Gotta earn it, baby. What are you gonna do to earn it, huh?"

"Anything you want," you gasp, trying to hold back, the feel of him filling you and stretching you. Even though you're sopping wet it's a sting as he crams into you. He likes it that way, and he knows you like it that way.

"Get on your knees for me, sweetpea. Come on, right here on the dirty ground for me."

You do just that, pulling your jeans up a little to give you some padding but Dave tsk tsks and tells you to keep them down, your bare knees on the cold hard restroom tile. You take his cock into your mouth, tasting your own juices on him, your pussy tightening around nothing as your mouth descends down his thick shaft, slowly, letting your teeth scrape against him.

He hisses but instead of pulling away he grabs your hair and pulls you forward. You gag, taking all of him in your mouth, your nose pressed against his neatly trimmed pubic hair. He keeps you there, watching your eyes water, until he pulls you back, a long string of thick saliva between your mouth and his dick. "Don't bite me ever again," he warns, his voice cool and even. "Just for that, I'm not going to let you swallow." He pulls you forward again but with less force. You open your mouth wide, receiving him again, forcing your gag reflex to ease off as you curl your lips over your teeth, bringing him in until you feel him at the back of your throat.

"So delicate," he murmurs. "Still so innocent, but you're growing into such a good little slut for me.. now look up at me, keep your eyes on me."

A knock at the restroom door. Dave tells them "Fuck off!" while his eyes never leave yours.

You suck him off, eyes on him, watching his head roll back as you lift his shaft to draw your tongue softly along his balls, one by one, and putting them in your mouth to suck before releasing them with a loud pop. Dave groans, his cock twitching. You hold out your tongue and he taps the head on it, thick and heavy. "Play with your tits, sweetpea. Play with yourself while I come on your pretty face."

You palm your breasts, gasping as you pluck at your nipples, hardened pebbles of nerve endings, and the other hand goes down to play with your pussy, slipping between your folds and gathering your cream, slipping it into your mouth. Dave groans again, taking hold of his cock and stroking it, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Christ, girl, you're such a fucking little tease. I'm gonna show you what bad little sluts like you get.." he strokes faster and you know he's on the brink. You jump a little when the first warm splash hits your cheek, then several more warm globs land on your nose, your lips, your forehead, almost the same places that Dave usually kisses you. He's sending you kisses of a different kind.

"Yeah.. yeah.." he moans, his movements slower as he finishes coming on your face, his dick deflating. You scoop up his cum from your face and lick it off while he watches with a darkened expression, helping you, feeding you his cum from right off your face. "That's your reward, sweetpea, for doing so well with your gun training today. And for handling my gun so well," he adds, a little smirk on his lips.

Later in the afternoon, jogging side by side at the park, you breathe in tandem with one another, keeping the same beat. You bet even your hearts are beating in unison. You look good in your new Lululemon's, and the minute you're alone again he's going to tear them off you, buy you some more to replace them only to ruin those too because he can't handle the way your ass bounces as you jog ahead of him. But right now you're just running. No headphones, no AirPods, no music save each other's breathing, the small grunts and sighs that leave your mouths, reminiscent of the sounds you make while fucking.

Taking a small break, you sit at a park bench, sipping cool water from your thermoses. There's a small pond, peaceful in the autumn breeze, and in the silence you share, your fingertips find each other on the seat of the bench.

"This was the best day," you tell him, a little smile on your lips, knowing he'll probably tease you for your sentimentality.

He leans back in his seat, a placid smile on his face. "It was nice, wasn't it?"

"What was your best day?" you ask, wishing you were at home so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

"Best days don't interest me," he says. "I like days that change your life."

"Oh." You smile, taking in the sound of that, thinking of your own. "What was a day that changed your life, Dave?" You assume there have to be plenty, given his life experiences, his age, his marriage, his children.

He appears to think it over, mentally flipping through the Rolodex in his mind containing things he would tell you and things he might never want to. "The day I lost a good friend," he says, his eyes taking on a faraway look, so different from the Dave you've come to know: cold and calculating or warm and friendly, depending on who has his attention.

"What happened?" you ask, your hand on his arm in a show of support, wanting to do more to make that smile return to his face, knowing if you weren't in public you'd get on your knees, stuff your ready and willing mouth with his cock and let him skull fuck the pain and sadness away.

Dave takes a deep breath, looking around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. "He died," he said shortly, obviously not wanting to dwell on the topic. When his gaze settles on you it's not dour as you expect, but pleasant. He quickly takes your hand from his arm and kisses it, only risking small moments between you out in public.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you offer, hoping for a morsel, some breadcrumb he can give you about the life he had before you, what shaped him. When you have shared so much he has given so little in return.

"I don't," he says simply, with a sigh, looking out over the pond. And that's all you get. You learn to live with the small pieces he gives, doling them out like rewards for your love and loyalty.

"What was yours?" he asks you in the car on the way home.

"What do you mean?" you ask, your hand resting on his on your thigh.

"The day that changed your life, sweetpea."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about the question after Dave had successfully evaded going into detail about his. You know right away what the answer is, the little dark cloud that's always been there, staining the memories of what should have been the happiest time of your life. "When my father died," you reply, staring straight ahead as you come to a stoplight.

He's quiet a moment, absorbing your words, and when he looks at you there's protectiveness in his eyes, a sort of superhero look in him at the way he sets his jaw. "You said he was bad to you and your brother, and most of all to your mom."

You nod.

"What happened, if I may ask?"

It's a little odd that he asks the same question he'd evaded just moments before, when you were trying to get inside that head of his, see what makes him tick.

"Was it bad?" he asks, looking at you intently, his hand caressing your hair.

A beat passes by, then another, and another. The light turns green and he drives on, his hand on your lap squeezing your thigh as if to remind you he'd asked you a question.

"He was killed."

"Killed.." Dave repeats. You see his mind working overtime, piecing together this history of you. "Killed as in..?"

"Murdered. Home invasion."

You remember seeing the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars parked in front of your house, the ambulance, the yellow police tape, watching detectives cross under that tape, going in and out of your house as if it was nothing, but they wouldn't let you or your mom through. Nobody would answer your questions. Your brother had refused to even come out of the car, staying stock still in the backseat, eyes wide, taking in the entire scene before him.

Then you saw it, and you had to do a double take. A body was brought out on a stretcher, covered in that awful black tarp that you'd only ever seen on TV. You just knew it was him. And your mother's wail of agony pierced the air, became part of the background noise as your reality became suspended, the moment stretching out into an agonizing eternity.

A detective tried to calm your mom, who looked like she was about to sink to her knees in grief. She was taken aside, led to the open backseat of a cop car, given a blanket around her shoulders. In a daze you watched your dad's body lifted into the waiting ambulance, its lights off, siren silent. No emergency for a dead man.

The night was a blur of questions, the same ones asked over and over again. Questions about your dad, his habits, what enemies he had. He was a police captain, he probably had a lot of enemies. You didn't have much information for them.

It was your eighteenth birthday and you'd been out celebrating with your family when your dad had had to leave. Why he'd gone home, no one could explain. He'd left in a taxi so you could drive your mom and brother home later.

A robbery gone bad, so they called it. Precious family items were taken, namely your mother's jewelry and pieces from your own collection: your class ring you'd only just received, and a gold plated bracelet you were given as a baby at your christening, bearing your name in perfect cursive.

No clues, no fingerprints, and no suspects. The neighbors had only called the police when he complained about a neighbor playing their TV too loud. Eventually the case went cold. Your dad was buried. You barely remembered the funeral. The photo of him they used in his obituary showed a man in his prime, a look of noble austerity on his face, so different from the cruel, manipulative, abusive man your family knew.

At your graduation people paid their respects to you, mentioned him in the religious invocation. Your dad was a pillar of the community. You made a habit of accepting condolences, accepting the way your life had become.

You had to move. Your mom refused to continue to live in the same place where your dad had so violently lost his life. And so she and your brother made their way to Tennessee while you stayed behind for college, moving north to pursue your Master's..

You're back in the driveway before you've finished your story. Dave's holding your hand, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. "Sweetpea," he murmurs, trying to collect his thoughts. "That's awful." He lifts your chin with his finger. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"It was my worst day," you confirm. "To say that it changed my life is an understatement."

Dave asks, "How did it feel, saying goodbye to the man who was responsible for the suffering you endured for so long?"

You look at him, this man who has also put you through a different kind of suffering. The first man to really see you, the first to fuck you, the first to risk everything just to be with you. The first man who really loves you.

"It felt like justice," you answer. "As much as it hurt to lose him that way, to watch my mother lose her husband, I couldn't tell anyone how happy I was that I was finally free of him."

The look on Dave's face changes, becomes one of almost adoration.

"You really cared for the friend you lost," you say with utmost thoughtfulness. "And it changed you.. made you stronger? Or made you worse?"

Suddenly that look of adoration is gone, replaced by a guarded detachment. he doesn't give you an answer, once again leaving you in the dark.

Since your heart-to-heart about the best/worst day of your life, Dave has been taciturn, keeping to himself. But by now you know how to handle his moods.

It's actually your idea for the sex tape.

On the weekend you return home, not needed at the York's. You give Dave a call, and hang up in a huff when it rings and rings, ultimately going to voicemail.

There's more than one way to skin a cat..

Stripping off your clothes, you make yourself comfortable on the bed, letting your fingers glide over your skin. You're thinking of Dave, of his hands on you, and they drift across the slope of your breasts, over your belly, and just before your touch slides down further, you put your phone on video mode and place it between your legs.

Dave stretches in his chair, taking a small break from his work. Carol's baking something with the girls; the sugary sweet aroma permeates through his home office door, making his mouth water. He checks his phone, seeing a missed call from you, as well as a video message. Upon opening it his eyes go wide.

Your fingers tease your folds, swiping smoothly over your clit before dipping inside, your ring and middle fingers slipping into your glistening slit, over and over. He watches, transfixed, listening to the music of your moans, knowing when you're close by the increasing urgency of your gasps.

He's removed from his trance by a knock at his door. Carol is there, a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies on a plate, fresh from the oven. "Snack break?" she smiles.

"No thanks, babe," he falters for a moment. "I've actually got to tend to something at the office."

"But it's Saturday.."

"Carol," he says sternly. "I don't want to hear it right now."

Your video starts playing again, the sound muffled in Dave's pocket. he shuts it off quickly.

"What was that?" Carol asks suspiciously.

"Some stupid TikTok video someone sent me. I don't understand those things." He shakes his head. "Hey, I'll take a rain check on those cookies." His hand on his wife's shoulder is encouragement enough to make her smile before he leaves.

As soon as you open the door for him he's on you, stopping whatever words of greeting you have with a scorching kiss.

"I take it you liked my video," you say smugly, breaking the kiss and pulling away so you can give him the full view of your lingerie: scarlet lace bra, matching lacy thong, and fishnet stockings.

"Wanna make another one?"

"Put on a little show for me, sweetpea."

He's pushed down to the bed. The phone is recording, the ring light shines perfectly on your swaying hips, 'Dance for You' by Beyoncé playing in the background. You grind yourself on his lap, feeling powerful as you feel him start to rise beneath your teasing touch. His hands roam your body, mapping out every curve, getting lost in the contrast of your silky skin and the velvet of your blood-red lingerie. His fingers burn you everywhere, in the best way.

"My girl's hungry, isn't she?" One of his large hands dips into your panties, finding you deliciously wet. "Oh yeah, she's already drooling." He licks you off his fingers then goes in for seconds and feeds that to you. "But she has to be patient."

Dave gets situated on the edge of the bed, and like clockwork you kneel before him to unbuckle his belt. Once you have him free from his boxers your mouth wraps around his base, taking him as deep as possible, and his hands cup the back of your head, lacing his fingers together.

Your tongue stiffens, teasing the under-seam of his dick, making his breath shudder. You'd smile if you weren't concentrating on making your mouth Ziplock tight.

Being a careful man, Dave isn't entirely comfortable being filmed, but there's something raunchy about the way you're showing off for the camera. It brings out a wildness in you that he knows has always been there.

When he tells you he's close and urges your head down you stay still, allowing him to use your throat. You moan in surprise as he comes, and before swallowing it, you show him the puddle of cum on your tongue, some of it dribbling down your chin.

"My girl did so good," he growls, pulling you up to the bed, switching places so he's now kneeling before you. There's an ache between your thighs that only Dave can ease. You run your fingers through his soft brown hair as he peppers kisses across your chest, down your abdomen, and rips your flimsy thong off you.

You whimper as Dave's lips and tongue work in tandem to orchestrate your pleasure. In praise of him your moans are loud, high-pitched. He's relentless with you, wanting you to come hard for him and for the camera. You scream his name as a hot surge runs through you, thighs clamped around his head.

Dave licks up and swallows your honey, watches with lust-filled eyes as you scoot back on the bed, legs open. "Tie my hands," you murmur provocatively, "with your belt."

He wastes no time, slotting your hands between the bars of your headboard, deftly making an effective knot that won't hurt you (too much) or be too complicated to release you from. Then he slides over, free of his clothes, and tastes you once more before moving over you and fucking you slow then fast, hard then gentle; your legs around his waist, then over his shoulders, chuckling darkly as you struggle, seeing how much you like it when you gush, ultimately crying out his name as you come once, twice, thrice.

"There's my girl, coming for me," he grunts out, voice filled with pride. "You know I love coming on that pretty face.. but tonight I want to fill you up." And, moments later, the camera closes in on your cunt, swollen and absolutely wrecked, shiny with your juices. You give a little push and his cum dribbles out.

"We look so good on camera," you say contentedly as you cuddle with him, finishing the viewing of your sex tape. You're unbound now, your wrists a little pink but otherwise unharmed from being tied up.

"Damn right we do," Dave agrees, giving your hair a soft kiss. "This stays between us, right, sweetpea?" He tries to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Just between us," you assure him.

"Good." He looks satisfied. "You know, I was thinking.. you know I'm a perfectionist.. and even though we did some stellar work, I think we can do better."

You grin at his implication. "Round two?"

"Round two," he nods. "And three, four, five.." his count disappears as he pulls you on top of him, burying his face in your neck as you giggle.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

@guelyury @untamedheart81 @auteurdelabre @darkheartgatita

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york x you #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x female reader #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #ao3 fanfic

32 notes · View notes

popcornforone · 6 months

Text

First Kisses

Happy birthday to our amazing man Pedro Pascal. He’s our inspiration for so many things & we are so proud of him & everything he does. He is our sunshine & he brings it to our days.

So I’ve had this Drabble in draft for a while & I thought today would be a good day to share it.

as always most of these are soft but they allude to some steamy stuff (especially Dave, Oberyn & Peña) so read at your own discretion.

Also I added pictures which would sun up the kind of setting for each, up to a certain point.

All feedback is welcome as always peoples I hope you enjoy.

Joel pre outbreak

Joel is concerned about kissing you. He doesn’t want you to leave the car, & go back to your apartment, but he knows you have a busy day tomorrow. Your hand rests on his gear stick gracing across the top of his knuckles.

“I had a lovely night Joel” you whisper blushing so much that a man like him would even look at you.

“So did I” he then holds your hand. You make eye contact. Those big brown eyes loom back at you. You’re smiling softly in return. A small sigh escapes your lips. He then looks forward & you think that’s it. So you go to get out the car. You let go of his hand unbuckle & as you turn your head to say good night, his face is in what was the empty gap. His hand pulls you close & you finally get your first kiss with your handsome contractor.

Frankie Morales

All you did was notice the guy at the bar & how good his arse looked in those jeans. You’re not on the look out for a man but your friends saw your eyes light up. All it takes it a round of shots to get your confidence up & off you stumble across to the bar & stand next to the mysterious veteran.

“You know my friends said I wouldn’t have the guts to give you my number” you laugh. He lifts his head & see how sexy you are & looks you up & down.

“What about a kiss with a handsome stranger?” He asks & as you stumble in your response, his lips find yours deeply & passionately. You grab his arse to make sure it feels as good as it looks as your friends cheer. Frankie then makes an excuse to use the bathroom & you then don’t see him again. But the next morning when you wake up & sort you stuff out from the night before you see he slipped you his business card, he had written on the back of it “if that’s what you do to a random stranger, I can wait for a first date”

Oberyn

You have a rule. No kisses with clients. It’s your own rule. However which the sculptured bronzed Dornish Prince walks in & disrobes causing a flock of ladies & men to flood to him you wonder if it will be worth it. The orgy with other Dornish figures & partners goes on for hours but neither you or Oberyn have broken eye contact. Eventually he drags you away from performing oral on one of his knights & he holds you against a curtain. Your body dripping in sweat from the exploits already his breath raging from his own pleasure.

“Your not like the others”

“How so”

“You’re mysterious… i like mysterious” & with those 5 words from oberyns mouth your body trembles & as your hand strokes his length he leans against you, & you break your rule. The way his teeth graze your lips feels just right & it’s not long before your hand is covered in Oberyns seed as he cums from just your hands & your lips.

Javi Gutierrez

Javi sits there nervous in the cinema. But it’s not about his movie, although that is nerve shredding. He is more worried about you being paped on the way out with him. He’s worried about you. You take your seat next to him & see him fidgeting.

“You okay Javi”

“Yea I’m okay”

“You sure?” You kiss the back of his hand & you see him smile.

“I am now” he’s blushing. The kiss on the hand has affected him he’s a giddy teenager. “Don’t stop baby” & suddenly he’s calm as you both lean in for a tender first kiss as the lights turn down for the start of the film premiere.

Tim Rockford

Tim didn’t mean to see you in the printing room making copies but now he has he’s slid in & puts his hands on your waist.

“Last night was fun”

“Yes it was” you reply “until, that guy started a fight & you had to arrest him & leave me”

“Sorry baby”

“I didn’t even get an end of first date kiss” you blush. As you hit the next printing button his hand slides around your wrist.

“Guess we’re going out for another date tonight then”

“Maybe”

& as you turn your head his lips are waiting. It’s much more fierce that you expected but you don’t care, detective Rockford can have you in the palm of his hand.

Javier Peña

“$50” he says. & you shake your head. “Come on I literally need an alibi for last night & as my friends sister you can do that come on $75”

“Hear you pay informants more”

“Who told you about that”

“Word gets around, Peña. Also how am I meant to fake being with you when I don’t…” youre interrupted. He kisses you in a frenzy & bites your bottom lip & pushes you against the kitchen table.

“If I have to fuck you I will, I need the cover.”

“$100 & a long make out right now” you negotiate.

“Deal” & he slaps the money in the table & grips your chin as the DEA agent gets his fill. He leaves much later & pays you the informant amount, all of you now very satisfied.

Din Djarin

You’re asleep in your hammock dreaming of a man with no beskar on & wondering what that face will look like. How big those roumoured brown eyes are. What those lips would feel like to kiss.

“Din” you sleep talk in the chair as he flys the razor crest. He turns around & chuckles. He takes his helmet off to look at you through fresh eyes. A loud sigh from him makes you stir & he turns to face the console.

“Sorry didn’t mean to wake you, you were sleep talking”

“Ahhh sorry Din but I was dreaming of you”

“Really” you nod. “Was it a nice dream” you nod again “keep your eyes closed” so you scrunch them tight. You hear him hit some buttons then walk over to you. It’s a surprise the feel of his gloveless finger trailing your chin but the kiss is soft & welcoming. Your body springs to life.

“Din”

“Shhh beautiful” your just amazed a man who doesn’t show his face to anyone has a well kept moustache as the kissing resumes. You respect his creed & don’t open your eyes once.

Dave York

Dave is back from a mission. Carol is away & you are his nanny cleaning up the kitchen after putting the girls to bed. He walks into the kitchen & sits by the kitchen counter. You automatically go to the fridge & get him a cold beer.

“Thanks sweetheart” he says with a wink. “I just need to unwind it’s been a long day”

“Anything for you mr York”you hand him the bottle opener & as you withdraw he grabs your wrist. “Mr York?” He’s got adrenaline pumping through his veins & he needs a release. You both look in each others eyes before your suddenly greeted by his lips. Tongue doesn’t ask for permission it’s down your throat as you make out with the handsome assassin. You can feel his heart racing, as his hand goes under your skirt.

“You promised to meet all the York needs,” he says as he growls & his hand undoes his fly. “So get on your knees & let’s see how well you help me let off steam”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fan fic #happy birthday pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal universe #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fics #smutt

21 notes · View notes

snowblossomreads · 1 year

Text

After Hours

Summary: In where [Y/n] gets pulled into a late night romp in the office with her partner in crime.

Pairing: David Friedman x FemReader

Tags(s)/Warnings: Office Sex, Daddy Kink, Pet Names, Spanking, Implied Age Gap, Teasing, Penetrative Sex, Are those dom/sub vibes I see?, yes, mention of voyeurism, also both characters are detectives so if bothers you

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: LOLOL I'M HERE AGAIN SURPRISE! I am on a roll right now as you can see and I hope it continues to go that way (she's very horny for this one old man as you see) Also don't fuck in the evidence room in the police department I'm pretty sure it's illegal.

Shout-out to @smilingformoney for enabling me and giving me horny ideas to write for this old man while also writing horny fics for this man😌😌. Iysm this is for you and I hope you enjoy a lil southern Alan💖💖💖.

MDNI!

"D-Dave what are you doing," [Y/n] hissed under her breath as she found herself being dragged into the evidence room of the station and pushed against one of the many shelves that littered the room with items on them.

She had only come down to check on the man who was now currently kissing her neck hungrily because he hadn't come back after half an hour. And being alone in the precinct in the middle of the night was actually quite creepy even if it was probably one of the safer places in the city.

"Dave! Oh, Jesus fuck slow down," she groaned trying to pry the man off of her as he switched from kissing to sucking at the tender flesh of her neck that had her knees going weak. His hands ran up and down her sides, squeezing at them causing her to giggle even as she tried to push him off. "Oh my god you're gonna get us fired!"

Whether it was the threat of being fired or her trying to push him off that made him stop, it didn't stop the sly grin on his face as he pulled away.

"What? Not likin' me jumpin' your bones in the office while no one's watchin?" He teased, a smirk on his lips as he placed a quick peck on [Y/n]'s. One she happily accepted signaling that she wasn't against what they were doing.

"Now I didn't say nothing about not likin' it detective," her answer coy and a bit breathless as she thumbed the lapel of his dress shirt, "I just think we should you know, make sure the door's locked before someone finds you balls deep in me."

The loud chuckle that rumbled through his chest could be felt by her with how close they were pressed together, and she couldn't help shivering at the feeling. God damn this old man for being as hot as he was, and having such a stupid sexy deep voice. And damn her for loving him so much that she lowkey would risk getting fired for him.

Never in her life did she think she would end up getting bent over in the police station but here she was about to absolutely let the man in front of her do that. Once he locked the door though.

"What not a fan of an audience?" He asked releasing her from his grip and taking a few steps back to lock the door as she suggested.

"Oh me? I'm perfectly fine with one, it's you that I'd be worried about."

With a raise of an eyebrow, David was slinking back towards [Y/n] her eyes narrowed playfully as he caged her against the shelf by putting both hands on the opposite side of her head. His breath tickled her face and the smell of coffee was evident as he leaned down near her ear.

"Really and why's that doll?" He drawled nuzzling the side of her face, causing her ear to tickle again at how gruff his voice was.

"Mmm oh come on Dave you know why," she sighed breathlessly, feeling the tip of his nose glide down her neck, goosebumps growing in its wake before he was nibbling at her neck again.

She was no doubt going to have bruises the next day and she hoped she had enough concealer for it as she didn't need more questions about her love life.

"Naw I sure don't, tell me why doll," he muttered, his hands slipping from near her head to find themselves squeezing at her sides again before one of them began to dive underneath the pencil skirt that [Y/n] had decided to wear today on account of it being paperwork day.

"Ah fuck Dave!" The feeling of his thick fingers moving her underwear to the side and rubbing her dampening slit had her hands reaching out to grab his shoulder.

Her head fell back against the shelf with a soft 'thud' as he began to drag his digits up down her opening collecting her wetness with each swipe. He took his time when he reached her clit that was still hidden beneath her folds.

Fingers brushing against the skin gently before rubbing circles against the flesh to try and coax the little bud out. All while [Y/n] huffed and whined at his touches, her hips jerking towards his hand with each stroke.

"Right there Dave," she sighed softly as his fingers kept stroking her and his lips continued to leave a trail of wet kisses down her throat.

Chills of excitement ran up her spine, spreading all over her as he kept touching and riling her up the way she knew he could.

"Mm right there Dave, please keep going boo~."

Yet at her words, he did the complete opposite. And she didn't know if she wanted to yell at him or burst out laughing because even in the delicious haze her brain was in she already knew what she had slipped up on.

Pulling away from her neck, but keeping his fingers against her David was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and hazel eyes that had a spark of annoyance in them.

"Now what did I say about callin' me that?"

She was right. She was fucking right and she wanted to laugh so much, though she wasn't sure if it was a good idea considering he literally had her in his hands. But she loved teasing him and she wasn't about to pass up the chance.

"Callin' you what?" She teased mischievously, her eyes narrowing and issuing a challenge as she bit her bottom lip to give him a smoldering look in hopes he would ignore the slip-up or at least make it worth her wild.

"Don't go playin' dumb with me now [Y/n]," he hissed trailing his fingers down from her clit to her opening and pushing the thick digits inside her with no warning.

A shriek of surprise left [Y/n]'s lips at the sudden intrusion but it quickly morphed into an elongated moan as he began to curl the digits inside her, stroking the tight walls that slowly began to loosen at his touches.

"Mmm I'm not Dave, I promise," she whined, letting a high-pitched gasp out at the feeling of his fingers thrusting shallowly inside of her as they went in search of something he fully knew the location of. "I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry didn't mean to darlin'."

The change in tone, and in terms of endearment had him smirking as he pressed his fingers deeper in her causing her to squeal and shudder at his movements. Her arms flew up and around his shoulder, as she pressed her front to him hugging him and moaning in his ear as he continued to open her up.

"Oh, so now you remember what I told you when I got my fingers inside you huh?" He hummed punctuating the question with another harsh thrust that had [Y/n] squealing and shaking in his hold as he increased his pace causing her to squirm. "All it takes is makin' your pussy feel good and you change that tune quick right doll?"

"Y-yes, yes," she stuttered out, rocking her hips at his touch trying to guide him to that spot inside her.

"Yes what?" He purred while the hand that was resting at her side slid to her backside. His fingers squeezing and massaging the flesh underneath her skirt before he was raising his hand and swatting her behind causing her to yelp out a startled,

"Dave!"

"Wrong answer doll." And then came another swat that had her shuddering and her insides clenching at the fingers that were still taking their time and toying with her.

Oh. So he was in that kind of mood.

Leaning her head up, she couldn't help but shudder at how his pupils were dilated. Hazel eyes were almost completely covered by his dark pupils and a hungry grim was on his features while he waited for her answer.

Oh, they were so going to get fired if someone showed up wondering where they were and found them like this. Unfortunately, though it was a risk she was willing to take as one of her hands fell from his shoulders to lay on top of his hand that was squeezing her ass. Stroking the top of his hand, she proceeded to put pressure on it causing him to squeeze her harder making her moan.

"Yes daddy," she groaned, kissing his lips softly as he slipped his fingers out of her, giving her clit one last stroke before removing his hand fully from under her skirt.

"That's what I was lookin' for, now turn yourself around. And bend over," he commanded but not before kissing her on the forehead, "gotta teach you a lesson and hopefully it'll stick this time."

She knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise and that she would be wasting her breath but she couldn't help but let out an upset groan as she did as he told her.

"I'm sorry," she whined once more, as she turned around to face the side of the shelf. Bending at the waist and outstretching her hands in front of her, placing them on the frame of the shelf while spreading her legs a little.

A strong pang of arousal shot through her stomach when she really thought about what was about to happen. Getting spanked and railed in the middle of the night at her job should not have been turning her on as much as it was but she couldn't deny it as she felt her skirt being rolled up and her damp underwear being pulled to the side causing her to shiver as the cool air of the room met her wet opening that was on display.

A hum of appreciation left David's lips as he caressed the globe of [Y/n]'s ass. The tips of his fingers danced over the warm flesh as they made their way toward her glistening opening. Swiping two of his fingers through her folds, he couldn't help but chuckle at the way she keened and rocked her hips back toward him.

"You'll get some more of that in a minute but we got some countin' to do. Think ten of 'em will get what I told you in your head?"

It was his way of asking her if she was alright with all of this as he went back to stroke her skin. Such a gentleman he was, [Y/n] mused as she looked behind her and caught his gaze.

"Mhm, yes sir," she purred, wiggling her hips and causing him to chuckle as he took his hand off of her for just a second.

"Alright then let's get to countin'."

No sooner had he said that the sound of a harsh 'thwack' of his hand landing on her skin echoed around the room and it was mixed in with a choked,

"One!"

Another smack.

"Two!"

And another just as hard as the two before.

"Three!"

Each number was squeaked out in a higher pitch than the next one as his hand landed on her ass three more times in rapid succession. And each spank had her insides clenching and unclenching from the punishment she was receiving as she swayed her hips from side to side as if she was trying to tempt the man behind her.

"Daddy please I'm sorry, I won't call you that again," [Y/n] mewled, her behind already stinging from the force. As much as she did like a bit of pain with her pleasure, the feeling of arousal in her stomach was bubbling up quicker than normal and she wasn't sure if she could contain herself if it went on much longer.

David seemed to have sensed that yet kept his tone leveled even as he stroked her ass rubbing his thumb against the already sore flesh.

"Now you know I don't wanna hear none of that [Y/n]," he said, "how many we got left now?"

"Four...sir," she whimpered quietly, eyes fluttering close and fingers balling into a fist against the shelf as she felt him dip his fingers just past the opening of her before pulling out. Teasing her insides with what could be inside her rather than what they were doing right now.

Though as if he could read her mind, because he surely knew how to read her body, he made an amused hum as he wiped her wetness off on his slacks. Good thing they were dark in color.

"Well then I say we hurry up then because from the looks and sound of it you're 'bout ready to combust, aren't you?" He purred lowly placing his hand back on her bottom and squeezing gently causing her legs to feel as if they were about to just give out beneath her.

God damn him and his stupid talented fingers. And her stupid pussy that was absolutely soaked and wanting him to just fuck her.

"Yes sir please 'm not gonna last long." She mewled, leaning her forehead against the cool shelf side and sighing at the contact against her warm face.

"Alright then four more."

If she thought the last four strikes were going to be pleasant just because he seemed to take notice of her need. She (and her butt) were sorely mistaken as the last ones seemed to be even worse. Maybe it was because of the quick break in between but when she finally sobbed out a broken,

"10!"

She had to wonder if she was going to be upright by the end of this as she was sure her legs were actually about to give out this time. Not to mention the way her arousal was dripping down her thighs making the skin sticky and damp as she trembled with a desire that was literally leaking from her.

"I think we've learned our lesson right [Y/n]?" David teased his hand still on the globe of her ass rubbing the skin as if trying to soothe the burn and residual sting licking at it.

"Y-yes," [Y/n] sniffled pitifully, whimpering at his touch to her sensitive flesh.

"Ah yes what doll, don't make me have to give you another 10."

"Yes, I've learned my lesson daddy please," she begged needily, tears that she had tried to keep at bay during her punishment threatening to spill from the arousal burning in her stomach, "please I need you, please just fuck me I won't call you that again."

A little hum rumbled through his throat as [Y/n] turned to look at him, and as if the tears in her eyes were enough, he let out a sigh before saying,

"Alright alright, needy lil' thing you aren’t you. Don't start cryin' on me sweetheart," he said giving her lower back a gentle pat, "since you did so well how 'bout I let you choose what you get?"

Oh thank god.

As much as she would love for him to keep the foreplay up she wasn't sure how long she was going to last on his fingers, or tongue for that matter. And if she was going to come she wanted it to be on his cock especially if it was going to be at work.

"Mmm want your cock, just want you inside me please." She answered with no hesitation anywhere in her tone as she turned back around to face the shelf, a sudden burst of energy flooding her veins as she heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and him unzipping his pants. "Just fuck me please I'm already so close."

"Huh just from a little spankin' doll?" He teased palming at his erection that had been straining in his boxers with one hand as the other one had its fingers brushing and rubbing [Y/n] wetness all over her slick opening making her shudder and moan. "So fuckin' messy back here, all this for me ain't it?" He purred, removing his fingers from her before rubbing her wetness over his cock. Getting himself nice and slicked with both of their arousals and groaning as he fisted himself prepping himself for her.

"Always for you daddy, only want you inside me," she groaned hotly, listening to the slick sounds behind her as she not only proved her want with words but by also taking her fingers and spreading herself open for him.

The sticky sound of her opening herself for him had both of them moaning as David took this as his cue to tap the tip of him at her entrance before slotting the thick head inside her causing both of them to shudder with matching languid low groans.

Taking one more deep breath, he grabbed at [Y/n]'s hip before sinking inside her with one fluid thrust. His cock easily breaching her walls as he slid in with barely any resistance causing [Y/n] to let out a mixture of a choked sob and a broken moan as he easily bottomed out on him. Her cunt fluttered and her body shuddered as it quickly adjusted to having him inside her.

And it didn't take him any time to begin rocking his hips, moving at a steady pace as he began to rut into her. Low pants and groans filled the air along with the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh as David held tightly onto her waist as he began to thrust.

"Oh fuck daddy yes fuck me fuck me please! Just like that," she begged breathlessly as her insides sucked at him each time he slid back inside of her trying to draw him deeper into her.

Each of his thrusts were met with her whining and him groaning noisily as she squeezed him with everything she had. Her channel rippled and leaked more of her juices as she felt her body trying to give out with each push of his hips against her. All while David was growling out the filthiest things she had heard from him outside of their bedroom.

"Got the hungriest cunt I've ever fucked you know that doll," he panted out gripping her hips roughly and pounding into her with such force that she could barely keep up with each thrust. Each one caused her to slide a bit down before she tried to scramble back into an upright position against the shelf. "Can just hear how fuckin' wet you are, doll. Bet if the whole office were here, they hear loud and clear how good you're getting fucked ain't that right?"

"Oh god yes oh fuck!" She almost yelled out partially forgetting where they were and more interested in the pleasure that was building hotter and hotter in her veins,"you fuck me so good daddy please it's so good!"

"Best this little cunt has ever had isn't it," he growled increasing his pace the sound of their fucking echoing around the room as the shelf [Y/n] was holding onto shook at the motions. Some of the items knocked into each other and she could have sworn she heard something fall but that was none of her concern at the moment.

"Mhmm I feel you squeezin' me darlin' think your about to come real soon aint' you."

"Uh-huh please, please can I come, I'm so close," her words came out as a strangled beg as she felt her body about to slide entirely down to the ground. And while she wasn't against getting fucked on her hands and knees, she wasn't particularly interested in doing it on this floor.

She still had standards.

"Please daddy please I c-can't can't hold it anymore," she wailed as her words seemingly spurred him on to fuck her harder causing her to reach a hand back to try and grab his wrist lest she fall.

David in turn took that as permission to grab her hand, yanking her towards him in an upright position and lifting one of her legs by wrapping a hand under her bent knee and bringing it to his side while his other grabbed her waist to keep her from falling over.

A clipped surprise screeched left [Y/n]'s lip at the position that caused him to slide deeper in her as she threw the arm closest to him behind his neck. Her body now angled towards him enough that they could both see each other as they raced towards their peaks.

"Gonna come on my cock aren't you doll," he growled, thrusting in shallowly before pressing and holding himself deep inside of her. "Make a mess all over us for anyone to see if they show up? I bet you like that lettin' everyone know I've been the one fuckin' you all this time."

His words made her shudder as he ground his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter shut just as he made her insides flutter with excitement. He had her trembling and making incoherent high-pitched whines that had his cock hardening even more as it began to throb ready to spill itself inside her.

"D-Dave please, I can't," she sobbed as he leaned down to kiss her neck before picking up his pace again, her mouth falling open as she begged him, "please let me come I'm gonna come daddy please."

A smirk crossed his thin lips as he kissed her on her cheek before nodding, his hand tightening around her waist as he began to slowly move his hips again.

"Go on then, wanna watch you rub that pretty little clit of yours while you come on my cock," he drawled huskily watching as she immediately lit up, her free hand dropping down to her front and playing with herself. “And you better scream my name when you come, you hear me?"

She nodded furiously, fingers gripping onto him while her other hand began to rub tight circles around her clit that was throbbing and pulsing with each pass of her digits. Her breathing became erratic and her insides began to seize up with each flick and stroke at her swollen bead. It was like her heart was about to beat out of her chest as she felt her pussy bare down on David causing him to hiss and thrust inside her at a quicker pace.

"Daddy, daddy oh fuck," she panted out her body writhing in his arms as his sensual groans and moans near her ear had her shaking. Her strokes increased in pace and so did his thrust as they pushed themself closer and closer to the finish line with each movement.

The sound of his cock fucking her grew wetter and wetter, increasing in volume as her pussy grew tighter and tighter until,

"Dave!"

His name tumbled from her lips in a watery cry as she felt her stomach tremble and her insides convulse around his cock. The feeling of her clenching and unclenching around him over and over had him growling and cursing loudly as she began to milk him of everything he could give her. His seed came out in hot spurts as her insides drank it all while thanking him with more gentle throbs around him as he emptied himself into her.

It took a moment for them to gather their bearings as they stood there panting and staring at each other with blissed out expressions. [Y/n] moved first going to kiss the man, while running her fingers through his messy hair while he stroked her waist tenderly.

They were both a complete mess as David began to drag himself out of her, a hiss of discomfort leaving [Y/n] due to how sore she felt along with how her underwear went back into place causing all his seed to begin to pool in the ruined piece of fabric when he put her leg down.

A shower was most definitely needed after this.

But there was also something else on her mind as she tried to straighten her outfit to make it look like she hadn't just been fucked six ways to Sunday. Hard thing to do considering she was about to walk limp from this no doubt.

"You know I told you so," she said, turning to look at David who was just finishing redoing his belt, and looking a bit more disheveled than he usually did.

"Told me what?"

"When I said I was worried 'bout you and an audience I told you you would hate it," she grinned up at him as she helped straighten his tie and shirt.

There was a twitch of his lips as he frowned at her, yet amusement glinted in his eyes at her little statement.

"Aw now don't you start with me again about that," he grunted, taking her hand that was messing with his shirt in his own and kissing it.

A giggle left her lips at his action right before he was leaning down to kiss her on the cheek, his five o'clock shadow tickling her and making her giggle even more.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she teased sweetly, laughing as his lips moved over towards hers, nipping it lovingly and causing her to grin.

"Of course you are doll,” he sighed exasperatedly as he watched her eyes shine with mirth. “Now let's get outta here before someone comes lookin. If I 'member correctly I'm pretty sure Matty suppose to be coming in later for somethin'."

The change of demeanor from [Y/n] was frighteningly quick as she pushed herself away from him as if he had burned her, a deep scowl on her face.

"David Friedman have you lost your goddamn mind!" She hissed, bolting to the door, pressing her ear to the cold metal of it and listening to see if she could hear footsteps, "if that man finds us- you know he still has it out for you because of last time Dave!"

"Well that's why I'm tellin’ you now doll, best get a move on," he chuckled watching her open the door carefully and looking around the corner before she turned to look at him. Her eyes still narrowed as she glared at him.

"Also I better be getting late dinner after this David, can't believe I let you- oh lord I can't even," she huffed not even finishing her thought as she opened the door fully and scurried out of it since the coast was clear.

Following behind her he couldn't help but let out a loud guffaw as he watched her grab her purse from underneath her desk before hurrying past him, off to the bathroom to clean herself.

“Late night dinner doll, that’s fine with me,” he teased as she went past him causing her to turn around and stick her tongue out at him before continuing on her way.

Sigh, he was going to be the death of her one day.

A/N: So glad these horny ones did not get caught. Though I'm sure their coworker will find the evidence room trashed and be like you what the fuck. Anyways I hope all like it, please shout at me about what you think!

See you guys!! 😘😘

#david friedman x reader #alan rickman character #alan rickman #blossoms writing #smut

67 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 2 years

Text

Religious Corruption: Our Gentle Sin

Professor!Dave York x Virgin!F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Religion kink, corruption kink, innocence kink, age gap, unbalanced power dynamic, grooming (?), professor/student relationship, blasphemy, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), panty kink, exhibitionist kink(?), oral sex (make receiving), filthiness with rosary beads, desecration of Holy spaces, daddy kink, baby/little girl pet names, spanking, orgasm denial, loss of virginity, explicit photo without consent, vaginal sex, cum swallowing, mentions of analingus, face sitting, pussy spanking, unprotected sex, angst, heartbreak, controlling parents, arranged marriage, family drama, threats of disownment, derogatory language (whore), children, mentions of pregnancy.

Comments: Now that the truth has come out - you were a conquest for Dave York's corruption kink - it's time to see how the dice fall. Do you go back to what your parents want for your life, or do you let Dave back in?

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.

His calls go straight to voicemail. His texts are rejected. You've turned off the app that allows him to see where you are. You've blocked him. Dave stares at his phone and the ache in his heart is nearly overwhelming. He wants to drive straight to your dorm and beat on the door, demanding that you listen to him but he knows you need space. You need to calm down in order to listen and he needs to organize his own thoughts and figure out how to explain.

Sitting down at his computer, Dave opens up his official school email and starts to type.

Sweetheart,

I first want to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you and making you cry. The only time I like seeing tears on your pretty face is when you are overwhelmed. Feeling good and I know you were not feeling good when you left tonight.

You were right. It started out as a conquest. Your virginity was a prize for me to claim. I never have been a moral or righteous man, you have to know this. Why else would corrupting you be so sexy to me? Why would making you break all the promises you made to your parents, to yourself, to God, be such a thrill? I guess you are right. I am evil.

But.....something changed. I know you saw the girls before you. The other 'good girls' that I corrupted. They were....victims of my own sins. They were prizes that were tossed away when the innocence was gone. If you read the book, you saw that I wrote a lot about them and there is very little that has been noted about you since the day I took your virginity. It's- I stopped writing because I - fuck, I don't even know why, really.

I realized yesterday that I had stopped. That it had stopped being a game for me. I brought you home. None of the others were ever allowed to spend the night, to stay with me. I never wanted them here. I kept the journal at home because they were not there and I just- didn't feel the need in writing down everything that I had done with you - to you.

Please talk to me. Please give me a chance to explain in person. To apologize. I owe you an apology, baby girl. I will get down on my fucking knees and beg for forgiveness if you will just talk to me. To let me show you that it's not a game anymore. Honestly it might have never been. I don't know. I just know that I hate myself right now, I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I can't pull you into my arms and hold you.

Talk to me, scream at me, hit me, I don't care. I deserve it. Just....please believe me when I say that I love you.

Dave

He stares at the email. Unhappy with how inarticulate he sounds, how badly he conveys his emotions in this. It's hard to try to write what he is feeling when all he wants to do is pull you into his lap and promise you with his kisses that you mean more to him than just a page in a trophy book. That he needs you to be happy. Dropping his head to his hand, Dave rubs his eyes, watery and red, and looks back at the email again.

He knows you might just bin it. So instead of hitting send, Dave saves it as a draft and closes his laptop. He'll talk to you tomorrow in class.

The second you climbed into the uber you had blocked his number, not wanting to hear his excuses, not wanting to be suckered in by the man you know you love. The man you know could never love you.

You sent an email out to the Faculty supervisor advising that you didn’t feel Dave's class was for you and that you’d be dropping it from your timetable immediately.

You began sobbing again as your uber pulled up outside your dorm, the driver shot you a reassuring look as you climbed out.

You took your time approaching your building, not wanting to be back in the cold and lonely dorm room you had rarely stayed in the past few months. Only really staying when Dave had to speak to parents or had a faculty meeting that would be running late.

It’s weird. That’s the first thought you have as you open the door to your room, it feels like home. But not the one you had made at Dave’s. The one you spent years growing up in, cold and lonely, too scared to make too much noise and too anxious to ever feel comfortable in.

You trace the crappy wooden desk with your fingers, your bible, rosary and cross tucked neatly in the corner. Gifts from your parents that have since that been used as props in the depravity you played out with him.

‘What did I do?’ you murmur out loud as tears drench your puffy cheeks.

A week. That’s what you gave yourself, a week of no classes, a week of living off sandwiches and only showering when you couldn’t put it off any longer. Lying comfortably in your bed with your phone switched off and making no effort to contact the outside world, apart from when you switched on your laptop in midweek and ordered an insane amount of food from instacart to be dropped off outside your door.

You wondered if he tried to call, you wondered if he’d noticed his number was blocked. And then you started to wonder if he’d simply moved on to the next girl. That particular thought makes bile rise in your throat and threaten to spill out across your bedsheets.

Dave didn't sleep. Tossing and turning all night, he was on his phone every fifteen minutes. Checking to see if you messaged him, if he had missed a call. Several of his own texts pinging back as undeliverable since he was blocked. He had almost gone out to buy another phone to try to talk to you but decided against it. You wanted space and he decided to give it to you even though he hated it.

He doesn't see the email until he is nearly ready to leave for campus. The Faculty advisor for the freshman class, your class, with an email title containing your name.

Making him sit down and listen to his heart pounding in his ears as he clicks on the email. Disappointment, heartache and anger at himself swirling in the pit of his stomach as he reads that you are dropping his class, effective immediately.

Shit. Dave shakes his head and snaps the laptop shut. Needing to talk to you, he stops himself from going to your dorm and beating on your door. He'll give you a week to calm down. You deserve it after what he's done.

A knock at your door pulls you away from the book you’re half paying attention to. ‘That was quick’ you think to yourself, assuming that it must be the driver dropping off the Oreos and Jalapeño Cheddar cheetos you had been craving. You quietly creep towards the door, and peer through the peephole. ‘Fuck,’ you mouth as you slowly move back away from the door.

An entire fucking week. It's how long it's been since you walked out of his house and of his life.

Dave is fucking miserable. Hating how he keeps looking for you in class, despite knowing that you've dropped it. Deandra tapping on his fucking door during office hours and raising his hopes only have them die a swift death when her overeager and too cheerful face pops in the door. He's come close to canceling classes all week, but he would have to explain that to the department heads and what could he possibly tell them?

He's rearranged his house. Driving the two hours out of town to where he would take you shopping. Far away from the college and anyone either one of you could possibly know. You love window shopping and imagining. A swivel chair, one that hangs off a base and allows you to spin around completely had been your favorite and you often moaned about having enough money to buy it. Telling him in detail exactly where you would put it in his home. It now sits right where you wanted it. To the left of the table where he sits to grade papers. It lets him imagine you sitting there.

Now, he's caved. Standing in front of your dorm door. Knocking quietly and praying - despite the fact that Dave York doesn't pray - that you will open the door and talk to him. He's not even seen you around campus and he's worried. Unable to ask anyone who knows you without making it seem suspicious, apparently both of you had been very good at keeping your relationship hidden.

He shuffles slightly, reaching out and knocking just a bit harder, more insistently. Listening for any sounds of movement from within the small space.

You’re not sure if you want to open the door to slap his face or just smash your lips against his. Why is he here? And what more could he possibly want from me?

You quietly creep back into bed, pulling the covers all the way over your head and fighting to keep the tears threatening to spill down your face at bay. This week has been filled with tears, anger, upset, reasoning and being unable to hide from the fact that you’re completely and utterly in love with a man who set out to ruin you from the second he saw you.

And now he’s here, just a few feet away.

He makes himself look like an idiot. Several students study him curiously as he stands outside your door but they don't say anything to him. Still he waits, knowing that if he says anything, you won't open the door for him.

Finally, another person comes up the call, bag in hand. Hustling with the energy of someone who is trying to get things done, they barely glance at him before they check their phone and look at the number on the door and drop the bag on the handle. Stepping back and taking a picture before turning and walking away at the same impatient pace.

Of course, Dave is curious. Finding Oreos and Cheetos in the bag, he's miffed you aren't eating properly, but he's happy you are at least eating. Instead of staying, making you open the door to him in order to get your food, he gets the message. You don't want to see him. Sighing softly, Dave puts the bag back on the door handle, a little heavier with his own addition and turns to walk away - kicking himself for being responsible for all of this.

You’re not sure how long you stay hidden under your blanket, but the knocking had stopped at least fifteen minutes ago and the chime from the laptop had informed you that your delivery was outside.

Slowly you sit up, before taking a deep breath and wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

Eventually you take small steps towards your door, peering through the hole and seeing an empty hallway. You open the door and quickly grab the bag hanging from your handle.

You empty the plastic bag over your bed and raise your eyebrow at a package of sugar cookies that you never ordered, cookies you recognize as being from the grocery store you two would go to out of town. Where he’d hold your hand and insist on paying for whatever ingredients you had loaded into the cart for the meals you’d cook.

You pick up the plastic casing and turn it upright and what you see makes your heart stutter. Your breath hitches and a fresh stream of tears spring to your eyes.

A polaroid clearly taken from his kitchen of the pink velvet swivel chair that you absolutely adored sitting in every time you went to that store. You can feel the plush material on your fingertips now. Two words written in sharpie on the white frame around the photograph ‘Come home.’

Confusion wracks your body, anger slowly joining it, ‘Why is he doing this?’ you murmur, ‘Is this just part of the game he seemingly loves to play?’

‘Enough is enough’ you think as you throw the cookies and the photo in your nightstand drawer, you are going to take a shower and you’re going over there to confront him. He will not hurt you anymore.

Dave hates waiting. It’s something he’s always known about himself but he’s learned it’s especially hard now.

After leaving the cookies and the photo, he had driven home. Changed into comfortable clothes and started waiting. The blinds open and his phone in his hands at all times, he watches for any sign that you are willing to talk to him, to forgive him.

He waits. And waits. The light from the day fades and you don’t come.

The last two weeks had been miserable.

You had felt more determined than ever to go and face Dave, ready to listen to what he had to say and go on from there.

You grabbed your toiletries bag, and some fresh clothes and made your way down to the showers. Taking the time to freshen up, and think through what you were going to say to him. You’d grabbed the same yellow sundress from the first time you’d gone to his house, not realizing until you’d put it on. You fixed your hair and made your way back down to your room.

The sight of your door slightly ajar sent a shiver down your spine, you knew you had locked it before heading to the showers. ‘Dave?’ you questioned quietly before taking a deep inhale and pushing it all the way open.

“Where on earth have you been?” your father bellowed from across your room, “We haven’t heard from you for over a week. You haven’t attended classes… We were worried sick.” You had remained entirely still throughout his ranting and raving, him refusing to let you have a single word in as he went off at you.

Your mother sat silently on the end of your bed just shaking her head at you repeatedly, “Your father is right,” she eventually said, “We didn’t raise you to be like this. We spoke to your advisor and he’s agreed to let us take you home for a few weeks, we have something important to discuss with you.”

“No,” you call out, “I’m not going… I can’t. I have things to do. I have class—.”

“You have to do what me and your mother say,” your father says with a scoff, “You have ten minutes to pack.”

Pleading and begging your Mother fell on uncaring ears, she simply walked to your door and waited on the other-side. Listening to you sob as you threw some things in a bag, including the cookies and photo from Dave.

You decided you would text him that night, and arrange to meet up when you returned home unaware of the news awaiting you.

“You want us to what?” you said in utter disbelief, “I barely know him.”

A chorus of laughter filled the room as you looked across at the face staring back at you, the grin on his face mocking and slightly bored, “You’ve been in my bible study for six months,” he says nonchalantly, “Our parents agree that we would be perfect together.”

“I-uh, I—.” You attempted to get out a sentence but your father quickly cut you off.

“To the joining of our families,” he said as the room erupted with cheers, and a ring was hastily shoved down your finger.

In less than twelve hours you’d gone from being comfortably laid up in your college dorm to being dragged home and engaged to a boy you’d barely spoken ten words to.

Stories were exchanged about how his parents had met at St Brennans just like yours and now you and Joshua. Tears spilled down your cheeks as they celebrated your impending union whilst acting like you weren’t there. Whilst pretending you weren't silently sobbing at the end of the table, because they were snatching your life from you.

Over the next two weeks you had been taken for a dress fitting, the dress already chosen and approved by your father, you’d sat sheepishly in a cafe whilst they tested cake samples and your stomach threatened to spill its contents everywhere and you’d been given a date. July 1st.

Despite being an adult and able to make decisions for yourself, your parents had decided you still needed to be punished for disappearing for a week, so they took your phone. Locked it away in your father’s office and refused to give it back to you until the day you were going back to St. Brennans.

Joshua had informed you that he would be driving you both back with a wink and you wanted to scream.

The drive back was as uncomfortable as you expected, Joshua had gotten into the habit of calling you ‘babe’ and it made you cringe internally every time. You couldn’t understand it, he was so comfortable being pushed into a marriage arranged for him, and so receptive to you being his wife without knowing you.

A twang of guilt built up in your stomach as he went on and on about the life he was expecting for you both, clearly excited to follow in his parents footsteps and you hated that you couldn’t relate.

He thinks you to be this pure and innocent girl, one who lived to serve Christ but the reality simply couldn’t be further away.

Dave sighs, not even bothering to pull out his phone and check to see if you have messaged him. You've completely ignored him, refused to answer your door the six times he has gone back to your dorm to talk to you and managed to avoid him on campus.

He needs to just accept that you want nothing to do with him and move on, but he's finding it hard to do. Which is wild considering he was already planning on how to end things when he met you. Starting a relationship that had a finite expiration date and now he was the one that was hanging on like a pathetic sap. Secretly, he believes he deserves it.

The knock on his door makes his traitorous heart gallop in his chest, although he knows it won't be you. It will be Deandra. Coming once again to flirty and very obviously try to get closer to him. It's making him extremely uncomfortable. To the point where office hours are now taken with the door open when a student is in his office and there is a camera set on his bookshelf to record the interactions. He doesn't trust her and he doesn't want her to be able to say that something inappropriate happened when it didn't. Ironic considering what he has done in this office.

You check your emails the second you arrive in your dorm, plugging your phone into the charger and waiting for it to finally switch on for the first time in weeks.

**RE: Meeting with your faculty supervisor.**

You click the email and see the date and time, and groan out loud seeing you have less than 15 minutes to get to her office on campus.

You slip on your shoes and grab your key, having no choice but to leave your still dead phone on your nightstand charging.

The halls are busy, most classes having just ended meaning that the halls are filled with your peers spilling out to make their way to their next classes.

“Oop, sorry,” you yelp as you bump into someone, too busy checking the time on your watch to realize where you were.

Dave reaches out, reflexively taking the errants students' shoulders so they don't fall. His own apology dying on his tongue and all he can do is whisper your name. Shocked that you are here, his heart pounding and his mind racing - wondering why you are here now. He had been trying to get away from his office and now you are running into him.

Your hand instinctively comes up to your chest as you steady yourself, “Hi,” you breath out, unable to ignore the warmth that floods you after seeing him for so long, “I have a meeting with my fac—.” You begin to say, about to ask if he’d meet you for a coffee somewhere or maybe you could go for a drive to talk. And that’s when she bounces out from his office, a smug smile spreading across her cheeks as she sees you.

Dave doesn't even notice that you've stopped talking, that your entire body has stiffened. The sound of his office door closing doesn't meet his ears or register at all.

You're wearing a ring.

You're wearing an engagement ring. It's not a purity ring. It couldn't be a promise ring. It's a solitaire, a pretty ugly one, if he were to say something. Marquis cut and a tiny chip of a diamond, but it's an engagement ring for certain.

His heart shatters and it's all he can do not to grab your hand and rip it off your finger. To fling it as far away from you as he can. His vision blurring for a dizzying moment before he blinks and looks up at your face.

“Professor York,” you simply say, voice dripping with venom, “Deandra.” You look at him one more time before pushing past them both and making your way to see your advisor. Feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes as you continue onwards.

Shit. Dave's eyes slip closed and he realizes what you thought you just walked into. He shakes his head and calls your name, but you don't turn around. Refusing to acknowledge him. Deandra moves up beside him and huffs, making him turn towards her in annoyance at her ruining seeing you again.

"What?" He demands, refusing to be nice after she had ruined his one chance to talk to you. Before she had come out of his damn office, you had actually seemed happy to see him.

"I'm just surprised that she's back." Deandra sniffs, staring after you unhappily.

"Back?" Did you go somewhere? Did something happen to you? Are you okay? The questions swim in his mind but he doesn't ask them.

"Yeah, her parents pulled her out for two weeks." She supplies smugly, like there's something wrong with you and she's obviously more superior because her parents haven't pulled her out. Dave wishes they would. "Joshua from the bible study group was bragging that he was getting engaged to her when he went home this weekend."

Dave's jaw clenches, fury flooding his entire body. You were being handled. Forced into a marriage your parents arranged for you to marry a good, 'Godly' boy. Something you had worried about to him while you were in his bed and he assured you wouldn't happen.

Your meeting was a disaster, you could barely concentrate as she handed you three weeks of missed assignments, three weeks of homework to catch up and read out a letter from an anonymous member of your bible study group about how disinterested you appeared to be. How your phone would go off and you’d make a lame excuse and practically run out of the building somewhere.

She gave you some feedback from a few professors who had been pretty complimentary but made the same comments about your head seemingly being elsewhere else. And then she made a standoffish remark about you understanding where they’re coming from.

You apologized about fifty times before she dismissed you and you carried the stack of paperwork you needed to catch up on. You weren’t to go to class tomorrow she had said but as she wanted you go concentrate on catching up.

The door of your room swings shut behind you as you throw yourself down on your bed, your phone has finally charged enough to switch itself on and you pick it up and start going through your notifications.

A few missed calls from your parents as expected, some texts from the kids in your bible study group and nothing from Dave. Which should come as no surprise to you seeing as you blocked his number, but still stings.

‘Probably been too busy with Deandra,’ you grit out from behind your teeth.

Maybe marrying Joshua won’t be as bad as you think. Yes, you’ll probably end up living the exact same life as your mother, and you’ll never be truly happy.

But you can’t hurt the way you’re hurting right now, if you never let anyone as close to you as you let Dave you repeat to yourself.

You look down at the ugly ring on your finger and you sigh.

Dave's strides down the hall of the dorm room are filled with anger. Some students recognize him, skittering out of the way. Or maybe they just see an angry older adult and decide to vanish, but he quickly makes his way to your room again. You will talk to him.

This time he doesn't knock. Grabbing the handle and growling when it turns in his hand. Pushing the door open to your room and stepping inside before practically kicking the door shut behind him. Making you jump out of your skin when he startles you.

You’re in the middle of an essay for your English Literature class, and the door flies open scaring you half to death. Dave strides in the room and lets the door slam behind him.

“If you’re looking for Deandra, you’re in the wrong building,” you spit at him before he can speak.

He ignores the barb, knowing you won't believe him if he tried to tell you that nothing happened with her. Especially because of your jealousy before. "Is this what you want?" He demands, eyes sparkling with anger. "Really want?"

“What are you talking about?” Completely oblivious to the fact he’s seen your ring.

"Joshua." He spits the boy's name with the same venom that you had said Deandra's. Jealousy drips from his tone but he will freely admit that. He'd confess every sin to you if you would let him. "You're going to marry him?"

You feel your chest constrict as you realize he knows, “How did y—,” you begin to say before stopping, “Why do you even care?”

"Why do I care?" Dave repeats your question and chuckles angrily. "Why do you think I care, little girl?" He demands, stepping closer to you and it's still too far away for his liking. "I waited for you to talk to me, and you- you ran off and let mommy and daddy pair you off."

“Fuck you,” you spit back at him, “Some of us don’t have a fucking choice, Dave. You think I wanted to go with them? Have to sit there and listen as they discussed whether I’d ever been kissed before? Discuss my virtue like it’s the only thing that fucking matters? Have to sob silently at the fucking dinner table as they toast crappy champagne and celebration a union that I don’t fucking want. All whilst the man I lo—,” You shake your head at him again.

“Clearly you’ve found your next participant, so why don’t you run along and find her.”

"I haven't touched Deandra." Dave hisses, scowling at you and the scene that you've painted of what has happened. It pisses him off and hurts him because he knows you were unhappy because of him. "I'm not going to touch Deandra." Or anyone else. He wants to say but you don't want to hear that. You aren't ready to hear it yet.

“Really?” you scoff, “Not as fun when they’re throwing themselves at you. But I'm guessing that’s technically what I did… Took the other months, didn't it? And it took me days.”

"Shut the fuck up." Dave growls, angry that you would talk down about yourself. He wouldn't let anyone say something like that about you, not even yourself. He shakes his head and glares at you. "Don't talk about yourself like that."

“Why not?” you say with a shrug, “Is that not what you would have written about me when you got bored of me and filled in your little diary of conquests.”

"Fuck this." Dave knows he could get slapped but he doesn't give a fuck. Surging forward, he grabs the back of your neck and crushes his lips to your desperately. Pouring every ounce of frustration and love into the kiss.

You hands float midair as he pulls you into him, his mouth covering yours as he kisses you deeper than ever before, part of you wants to push him off and tell him to fuck himself but a bigger part of you doesn’t, so you don’t, you let him kiss you like he needs it to survive.

You finally pull away and repeat the six words you’ve said numerous times to your parents and hope that this time they don’t get swept away or completely ignore, “I don’t want to marry him.”

"You're not fucking marrying him." Dave promises you, his hand reaching for yours to pull that piece of shit ring off like he had wanted to earlier. Hating how he has to let you go, but this is important.

He's gentle with your hand, sliding the ring off so he doesn't hurt your finger but once it's off, it clatters to the floor and he's dragging you back to him.

“You need to explain, Dave,” you say as you place your head on his chest, “You need to tell me why you did it.”

He closes his eyes, knowing that he owes you this. He owes you so much but he at least owes you an explanation. He takes a minute so he doesn’t just kiss you again. "Sit down, baby girl." He urges you softly. "I- I'll tell you everything." His hand slides up and down your back slowly before he lets you go.

You sit down on the bottom of your bed and rest your hands in your lap, “Tell me.”

There's symbolism in the way that Dave kneels down in front of you. Not only so he can look you in the eyes, but he is literally kneeling at your feet. Laying his sins bare in front of the woman he has wronged and hoping that she forgives him.

"You- you were right." He starts off, not willing to insult you by denying it. "I started this out with every intention of taking your innocence. Corrupting you."

Your hands tighten together and he hates the way your breathing hitches. "I- It's a thing- a kink, I guess. Taking someone innocent and pure, virginal and turning them into.....a slut." God, it sounds horrible when he says it out loud.

Dave doesn't touch you, sensing you would recoil if he tried right now. "So when you- when you showed me that you had a crush on me, I chose you." He takes a breath. "But baby, I- I need you to know that it didn't- it changed. It completely changed."

You squeeze your eyes closed, his words making you feel a little dizzy, “When did it change?” you ask, “What makes me any different from those other girls?”

He wants to tell you that it's the night he took your virginity, because that's when it started to shift. At least from what he can pinpoint. But you wouldn't believe that. You would think that he was just trying to say that your pussy was too good or something like that.

"I don't know." He admits quietly. "I- I never went shopping with them. They never spent the night at my house. They didn't know where I live." He had made sure that there wouldn't be any dramatics brought to his home. "I didn't want them with me all the time. I didn't love them."

“You say that like you loved me,” you whisper back, unsure whether you’re reading between the lines, or if he just admitted to loving you.

"I didn't love you, past tense." Dave whispers just as softly. "I do love you. As in, I haven't stopped." He shakes his head and murmurs your name, "I love you."

“I don’t want to be here,” you admit to him, your hand coming up to touch his cheek, “Take me home, Dave.”

He had thought for a second that you would slap him. He would have deserved it. Your hand on his cheek makes him close his eyes, relaxing for the first time since you had fled his house so many weeks ago. Calling it home makes his heart skip a beat. Nodding, he swallows harshly. "Get your stuff, sweetheart. Whatever you want to bring." He won't assume you want him, he won't assume you are going to his home to sleep with him but he wants you to be comfortable.

You pack a few things, mostly just stuffing them on top of the stuff you already had packed from your trip. Dave picks up the pile of paperwork you need to work on and your laptop, as you bend down and collect the ring he had thrown across the room. Setting it on your desk with a little note simply saying, ‘I’m sorry.’

"Let's go, baby girl." Dave is impatient to get you home. Especially when you told him that Joshua was going to drop by to see how your first day back was when he got done with bible study. He wants to be gone because he will hurt the boy's feelings.

You follow him out the door, pulling it shut but not bothering to lock it. You want Joshua to get his ring back and anything of value is coming with you. You walk side by side with him down the hallway, your shoulder lightly brushing against his as you do so.

"I came by your room a lot." Dave admits as the two of you walk towards the exit. "I- I wrote you an email that night. Never sent it, thinking I would talk to you the next day in class. But-" He doesn't finish the statement, knowing you know what happened. He just wants you to know that he hasn't just forgotten you.

“Can I read it?” you ask as he holds open the door for you, “If you still have it?”

"I do." He follows behind you and looks around to make sure that your fiancé isn't nearby as he guides you towards his car. "It's saved as a draft."

You walk silently to his car, ignoring the confused looks from other students as he carries a stack of your things. He opens the trunk and you carefully place your bags in there and make your way to the front. Sliding in the passenger seat and waiting for him to drive you back to his place.

As soon as he has left the campus, Dave is handing you his phone. "Open the emails and go into the drafts." He has nothing to hide from you and it will allow you to read it while he's driving. More importantly, you would see when it was written.

You don’t want him to see you cry, but with every new sentence your heart aches a little harder, you’re still so unbelievably angry with him and you don’t know how long it’ll take for you to let it all go. “Why didn’t you send it? This was written that day, Dave.”

"Would you have read it?" He asks, looking over at you seriously. "Or believed a word I said?"

“I don’t know,” you admit honestly, “maybe, maybe not.” You look out the window as your complex disappears from sight, and you play with your hands in your lap. A small smile briefly landing on your lips as you get a flashback to the first time in his car. “You bought the swivel chair?”

"Stupid, I know." Dave huffs to himself, wishing that he knew what you were thinking right now. "I just- I needed to imagine you there. It- it didn't feel like home anymore."

“Did spending that much money help?” you say with a small giggle, “It's nice that you were thinking of me.”

"It didn't help, but I was hoping that you would come back and enjoy it." He hums, smiling at the sound of your laugh. He hopes that your good mood will help, since he's not done confessing. "There's something else that I need to tell you." He confesses, looking over you briefly before looking back at the road. "About all of this."

“What is it?,” You say glancing over at him, he’s focusing on the road a little too hard. Almost like he can’t bring himself to look at you.

“You remember all the pictures I took to show you what you looked like?” He asks. Of course you remember. After every filthy, depraved thing that he had done to you, he had shown you how beautiful you looked. Cum coating your face, your tits. The first time he filled your pussy with his ‘seed’. His view when you sat on his face. You bouncing on his cock. All snapped to show you how filthy you were. He loved every single one of them.

“Yes,” you sat quietly, “Why?”

Dave is quiet for a second, the words heavy on his tongue. “I kept them.” He confesses, wanting everything to be in the open. He doesn’t want anything else to pop up and it requires him to come clean.

You nod, not entirely surprised if you’re honest and you lightly tap your fingers against your knees, “Has anyone else seen them?”

"Never." Dave growls out, disgusted with the idea of anyone ever seeing you like that. "I never sent them to anyone or showed them to anyone but you. They were- they are in a password protected file on my phone."

“Okay,” you breathe out, “I- I am not surprised that you kept them. It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.”

He's shocked that you aren't upset. Looking over at you to gauge what you are feeling as he drives gives nothing away. "Do you want me to delete them? I will, I'll let you delete them, go through my phone to make sure I don't have them anywhere else."

“Did you take photos of the others?” you ask, that thought threatening to spill tears from you.

"N-no." Dave shakes his head quickly, unsure if you will believe him. "I never- the first time I took a picture like that was because you wanted to see it and I- it was perfect."

“I remember,” you say, and you believe him. He’d always made it clear that he’d never do anything that wasn’t specifically given the green light and you were confident that he would have had those rules with the others, so you don’t think he’d lie. If he had done so, they would have consented.

“You don’t have to delete them,” you announce, “As long as they’re safe.”

"Do you want to see them?" He asks softly. "I'll give you the password. So you can check."

“Yes,” you say, sucking in your cheeks, “I would.”

Dave gives you the password to the file after telling you where to go on his phone. He even gives you the code to unlock it since it's gone dark after you read the email, wanting to show you that he has nothing to hide anymore. The password is your birthday.

A small fleeting smile creeps on your face as he tells you the password. “Mhmm,” you hum, and then you slowly start to scroll the hundreds of photos.

Dave sighs softly at how well you are taking this. Silent as you scroll through the photos that had recorded practically every lewd act the two of you had done together. Most of them were taken in his house, but a few in his office.

While you had been gone, it had been all he had to keep him sane, another the last two pictures in the album were his favorite. The first was a picture of you sprawled on his chest, fast asleep as you curled into him. The other is when he had to slip out of bed to pee and you stole his pillow to cuddle. Both of them made his heart clench although he hadn't realized why at the time.

“They are great pictures.” Dave murmurs quietly.

You hum in response, riding out the rest of the car ride in a comfortable silence.

It doesn't take long for Dave to pull into his garage again, happy to be home and he sighs as the garage door closes behind the car. "We're here." Dave murmurs, looking over at you and wondering why you want to be here. You haven't told him anything about what you are feeling or what you want to do beyond wanting to come here.

“We’re here,” you echo as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. You walk around to the trunk and pick up your bags and he grabs your laptop, leaving the stack of papers in his trunk. You wait for him to start walking to the house before following him, unsure what you want to say, unsure what’s about to happen, but feeling glad to be back here.

Once Dave puts everything down on the table, he's running his hands down along his jeans nervously. "Is there anything else you want to know? Questions you have?" He asks softly. He's off balance right now, the dynamic has shifted and right now you have all the power.

“Not right now,” you say. The swivel chair immediately grabs your attention. He had placed it so close to where he marks his papers that he could reach out and touch you without needing to stretch at all.

“I’m a little hungry,” you admit, still focusing on the chair.

"Food." He can do food. Nodding, he motions towards the chair. "Sit down and I'll make you something to eat, sweetheart." He tells you, turning back towards the fridge and stove. "I'll make you some breakfast." You love eating breakfast anytime of day and it would be easy to throw together.

“That sounds good,” you say, slowly walking towards the chair, brushing your fingertips across the velvet and then slowly lowering yourself down on it. Swiveling it so it’s facing Dave in the kitchen. You sit and watch him cooking, watching the way he’s focused, measuring the ingredients for pancakes so precisely and mouthing the method as he prepares the batter.

You haven't said that you want to be with him and there is a worry that you are stringing him along to make him twist in the wind for awhile before you tell him that he's fucked up too much for you to give him another chance. He tries not to concentrate on that. "Did you- why did you go home?" He asks.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say honestly, “I was getting ready to come here. My parents had arranged for me to have time off of school. I tried to say no to them.”

Dave shakes his head, annoyed at your parents for meddling in your life. Taking away the minute freedoms you had since attending college. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I know you had to hate that."

“I had this big plan to come here, Dave, I had so much I was going to say to you. To tell you,” you bite down on your lip to suppress a sob, “I was ready to talk to you.”

"You can tell me now." Dave looks up from the pancakes to gaze at you softly. "Everything you wanted to say. I deserve it."

You look up at him and those big puppy dog eyes, “I was going to tell you that I’m more than just a clergyman’s daughter,” you feel the tears you didn’t realize had built up in your ears start to drip down your cheeks, “I was going to yell at you and tell you that I didn’t deserve it. But mostly I just wanted to see if you were truly sorry.”

"You are more than a clergyman's daughter." Dave will admit that easily. "It- there's also a religious aspect to my sexual appetite." He rolls his eyes and gives a slightly self deprecating sigh. "It has to do with that. I deserve to be yelled at. You do deserve better. So much better than me. But baby, I am sorry.

“I know you are,” you reply softly, “I know you’re sorry baby.”

"I- how much of the book did you read?" He asks, wondering what you remember about it.

“Not much,” you shrug, “Figured out pretty quickly what it was. And seeing my name and the amount of days…” You don’t want to finish the sentence, you simply shake your head and shrug again. Blinking away the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

"Are you ashamed?" He asks, knowing that it's a difficult question. "Of sleeping with me?"

“No,” you say as you stand up and take a step towards him, “No. I’m hurt that it happened the way it did, but I'm not ashamed.”

"I meant what I said." He rasps out. "I- it was always your decision. If you had- hadn't wanted to, I wouldn't have-" He shakes his head. "A few days, a few years - you're worth the wait."

“You would have waited a few years?” you say with a raised eyebrow, “Mhm.”

"Before you?" Dave shakes his head, admitting that he wouldn't have waited. He would have moved on. "No, I wouldn't have. But you? Baby girl, you just- you don't understand."

“I do,” you say quietly as you take his face in your hands, “It’s just gonna take a while for things to heal.”

"I know." Dave knows that you don't trust him, you shouldn't trust him. He closes his eyes at the feeling of your hands on him, grounding him and proving that you are real and here. "But you aren't marrying that twerp." He grunts.

“I’m scared,” you admit as you pepper the lightest of kisses on his lips, “I don’t know what’s gonna happen when my parents find out.”

"Fuck them." Dave growls, angry that they would essentially sell their daughter because that's what they were doing. "I won't let them affect you."

“I don’t want to think about it right now,” you mumble, “And I don’t want you to burn my pancakes.”

Dave rolls his eyes and huffs, turning back towards the pancakes to flip them to the other side. "Now who's bossy?" He grumbles.

“I learned from the master,” you say as you take a seat on the counter, “And don’t forget the chocolate chips.”

"The next one will be chocolate chip." Dave promises, moving over to the pantry so he can get the mini chocolate chips to add to the pancakes.

“I’m going to tell my parents tomorrow,” you say as you pop a handful of chocolate chips in your mouth and swallow, “Worst thing they can do is stop paying my tuition and get me kicked out and drag me home right? They can’t force me down the aisle.”

"They can't force you down the aisle if you're already married." Dave murmurs, plating up a pancake and measuring out the batter for the next one. The idea of you marrying that little asshole pisses him off and he won't let that happen. Nor would he let them control your life anymore.

“And who exactly would I be married to?” you ask, not completely believing what you’re hearing.

“Who do you think?” It stings, the knowledge that you had never even given the idea of a future with him. Hypocritical of him, but still.

“I’ve dreamt of it,” you admit, “Those nights when I was snuggled up on your chest listening to you snore. Me and you. Somewhere far from everyone else, a small courthouse.

“I don’t snore.” Dave lifts a brow at you, smirking slightly when you roll your eyes at him. “Your parents have no control over me. And I don’t give a damn what they will say.”

“Dave,” you snort, “I’m pretty sure there’s a question you’re supposed to ask me, if you’re serious.”

“You want me to ask you now?” He asks, pointing at the pan. “In front of your pancakes?”

“Are you scared I'll say no,” you say before you whisper, “In front of your pancakes?”

“Yes.” Dave concentrates on flipping the pancake a little more than he probably has to. “I’m a lot older than you, I did a lot of things you shouldn’t forgive me for, some would say I groomed you.”

“Mhmm,” you say, “Some would say I waltzed into your bedroom and started to strip in front of you… old man.”

“You did strip in front of me.” Dave can’t help but smirk. “Spread your legs and begged me to fuck you, little girl.”

“I might need a refresher.” You say with a wink, “Hurry up with my pancakes.”

Dave growls and his cock twitches at your playful and bossy command. “So bossy. Going to spank you if you keep it up.”

“I think if anyone deserves a spanking here right now, it’s not me.”

Dave smirks and moves another pancake to the plate. “Are you saying you want to spank me, little girl?”

“If you don’t hurry up with my food, I might have to.” You sit as you reach over and pull the plate towards you.

Chuckling, he shakes his head and turns to get the syrup and the milk out of the fridge. “Eat up, little girl, I’ll make your eggs.”

You’re all snuggled up in the swivel chair, watching Dave mark a few papers before you yawn loudly, and he immediately turns to face you.

“Do you- uh, want to sleep?” Dave asks, setting down his pen and deciding that he is done for the night.

“Sleep sounds good,” you say with another little yawn. “You all done?”

“I can be.” Dave stands and starts shuffling the papers, stacking them on his laptop and turning to you. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”

He stretches out his hand for you to grab, and leads you up the stairs to his bedroom.

Dave turns towards you once you are in the bedroom. Earlier, you had brought your stuff up here and he doesn’t know what you’ve done with it, but he doesn’t see your bag. Reaching up, he cups your cheek gently and leans in to kiss your forehead.

“Goodnight, baby girl.” He murmurs softly and steps back so he can go sleep in the spare room. He’s not going to push you and just having you under his roof is enough right now.

“Where are you going?” You ask clearly confused.

Dave frowns and turns back to you. “I- you want me to sleep here with you?” He asks, feeling like it would be the last thing you would want.

A small laugh slips through your lip, “You think I want to sleep in your bed without you?” You shake your head before running your hands over your hair, “Get into bed, York.”

“Shut up.” Dave blows out a huff and reaches back to shut the door to the bedroom. Just a habit of his.

“You shut up,” you counter back as you pull off your sweater, and start unbuttoning your jeans.

He smirks slightly, happy to see your spunk showing and he starts to undress. His eyes are fixed on you though, watching you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen your body.

You look up and see him staring at you, “Dave,” you murmur as you step out of your jeans, “Are you planning on sleeping in your clothes? Because I'd much prefer it if you didn’t.”

“I’ll get undressed.” Dave promises you. “Just admiring the view. I’ve missed it.”

“Yeah?” you ask softly, knowing it drives him crazy when your voice is dripping with innocence.

He groans, knowing you will see that he’s already half hard when he pushes his jeans down. “Yeah.” He rasps out, tossing his shirt aside and reaching for the button of his jeans. “A lot, baby girl.”

“Show me how much, Dave.” You whisper after you take off your bra and start to push your panties down your legs.

“Jesus.” He exhales roughly, his movements speeding up a hell of a lot more now that he has permission to touch you.

You lay down on the bed and slowly spread your legs, watching him palm himself through his boxers, “I want you to taste me.”

“With fucking pleasure.” Dave groans, quick to push down his boxers and he kneels on the bed. “I’ve missed the taste of your sweet pussy, tasting you cum for me.”

“Shut up and do it then,” you order as his hot breath ghosts over your thighs.

“Bossy.” He nips your thigh before he winks at you and lowers his mouth to your cunt.

“Don’t tease,” you beg as he places his mouth on your soft flesh.

He doesn’t. He gives you exactly what you want. Slow, thorough drags of his tongue through your folds so he can make sure he tastes every inch of your cunt.

Within seconds he has you squirming beneath him, lapping at you like a man starved as you moan his name over and over again, “please Dave,” you start to beg, desperate to feel release for the first time in weeks, feeling no shame in how quickly he has you on the edge.

You are still so sweet, so innocent and it makes his cock throb. Your body rocking down for more of his touch along with the breathless moans of his name. Dave dips his tongue inside you before curling up to suck your clit into his mouth. One hand letting go so he can push three fingers inside your tight little hole.

You gasp at the intrusion, the stretch overwhelming and simply incredible all at once. He curls his fingers up inside of you as his tongue teases against your clit, and you cum hard, taking the both of you by surprise.

Dave groans, pressing into you harder as the slick of you cum coats his fingers, wanting to make it so good for you. Absorbing all your sounds and basking in them.

“Dave,” you whine as his tongue refuses to let up, continuing to lick your bundle of nerves, despite your whimpering.

Dave just hums, eyes flickering up to watch you squirm. Your eyes flutter and are not able to stay open as you try to not push him away.

“It’s too much,” you whimper as he doubles down on his efforts, flicking your clit with his tongue and thrusting his fingers in and out of your heat and pulling your second orgasm from you with a smirk across his face, “No more, I just want you inside of me.”

Dave grunts, unhappy that he can’t pull orgasms out of you until you’re a mess, completely melted into the bed. But he’s also aware of the fact that he’s getting a second chance right now so he lets go of your clit and kisses it, groaning at how slick his fingers squelch when he pulls them out of your pussy and shuffles to kneel between your thighs. “You want me inside you, little girl?” He asks huskily, wrapping his wet hand around his cock and slowly jerking himself.

“I need you inside of me,” you say as you wet your lips, watching him slowly stroke his cock. “I want to feel you deep inside of me.”

“Fuck.” Dave doesn’t tell you the truth. That if he fucks you again, he’s not letting you go. Instead, he nods, shifting so that he is hovering over you and smirking as he slides the head of his cock around your clit, teasing it until you whine before he lines himself up.

“Don’t tease,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you again for the first time in weeks. “I need you, Dave. I need this.”

“I’ll always give you what you need, baby girl.” He vows, slowly pushing his hips forward and dropping his head down to hang between his shoulder blades as he groans out your name.

The stretch of him always makes you wince, a little jolt of pain that promises so much more pleasure. One of your hands comes up to touch his face gently gripping his jaw as he fills you to the hilt. “Make me feel good,” you whisper as you pull his face down towards yours, needing to feel his lips on top of yours.

It’s the best order that he could ever be given. Normally, he would take it to heart, snapping his hips into you so brutally the bed would hit the wall. This time is different. This time the tempo of your slow, languid kisses is the same tempo of his hips. In no rush for it to end, Dave makes sure you feel every second of his cock dragging through your walls as he pulls back, only to fill you again just as slowly.

His slow pace is almost dizzying, every drag of his cock notches against that little spot of paradise inside of you, and you feel consumed by him in the best kind of way. All of your senses are occupied by him, the taste of his mouth lingers on your tongue, the warm inviting scent that is so uniquely Dave fills your nostrils, the soft grunts he gifts to you with every loving thrust flow into your ears, his eyes bore into yours and you feel his soft touch everywhere. His lips capture yours again and the second they part you’re spilling the words that have lived on your lips for what feels like forever, “I love you, Dave.”

Dave freezes. He knows you love him, he’s seen it, he’s felt it. But this is the first time he’s heard the words out of your mouth, directed towards him.

He lowers himself to his elbows, pushing his arms under your back and gathering you close as he pushes deep. “Marry me.” He begs against your lips right before he kisses you with enough passion to steal his own breath.

“Yes.” You say against his plush lips, before you feel your walls begin to contract around him, your orgasm plummeting towards you both as he rocks himself in and out of you.

It’s perfect, you’re perfect. For the first time in weeks, Dave feels completely at peace, even as the demands of his body mount. Kissing and praising you softly while you tremble underneath him. Panting into your mouth when you are urging him to cum.

“Fill me up.” You say as you feel his cock start to throb against your walls. In this moment you know that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, and despite the fact you have a lot to work through, all you feel right now is safe.

“I love you.” Dave groans out, pushing deep and emptying himself into you, physically and spiritually with the most intense orgasm he’s ever had.

“I love you, too.” You say as you press your lips to his, “I really love you.” He moulds his lips to yours again, whilst wrapping his arms around you, his softening cock still comfortably nestled in your heat as he just holds you. Kissing you with as much passion as he can muster as you run one of hands up and down his spine and gently hold the back of his head with the other.

Dave shifts to his side and then his back, bringing you with him as you both roll over and you sprawl out over the top of him. Like his own personal blanket and he doesn’t want you to move.

You nuzzle your face into his neck as he reaches down to bring the blanket up over you both and you hum a sigh of contentment, “You feel like home, Dave York,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep as you drift off comfortably in his arms.

The two of you are tangled together, sleeping peacefully and would have continued to sleep if it weren’t for the sudden and demanding beating on the front door. Making you and Dave both jump and look around for a second before the doorbell starts peeling out incessantly as whoever is at Dave’s door demands to be acknowledged.

“Please don’t tell me you have a secret wife, I don’t know about,” you mumble as you watch him jump out of bed, and then you hear a voice you’d recognise from anywhere.

The banging on the door gets more incessant and your father’s voice bellows out over and over that he knows you’re in there.

“Shit, that’s my parents” you hiss as Dave pulls on his pants, whilst studying your face, “How the fuck did they find me so quickly?”

Dave shakes his head, wondering if they have tracked your phone. He doesn't say it outloud, but he had been tracking you with your permission, but who is to say they didn't do it without you knowing?

"Do you want to stay here?" He asks, knowing he will deny you are here and demand they leave if you want him to.

“Yes,” you answer almost instantly, “I want to stay with you.”

"No baby, I mean do you want to stay up here and I'll get them to leave." Dave clarifies, knowing that you might not be up for a confrontation with your parents.

You nod as the sound of your dad's banging gets louder and louder, “Please.”

Dave nods, leaning down and kisses you quickly before grabbing his jeans and rushing out of the room as he pulls it on. "I'M COMING!" He bellows as he thunders down the stairs and snatches the door open with the angriest scowl he can pull on his face. "What do you want?" He demands harshly, making the man at the door - your father - abruptly step back at his greeting.

“We are here for our daughter,” your dad announces, before straightening his spine and huffing out his chest, “And we aren’t leaving without her.”

"Your daughter?" Dave looks behind him and scoffs. "Don't see anyone but me here." He turns back, his eyes narrowed. "So I suggest you leave."

You hear your father bellow your name again and you sink under the blankets.

“We have it on good authority that she left with you yesterday,” your dad challenges back, “And we aren’t going anywhere until she’s coming with us.”

"Lower your fucking voice." Dave barks, furious that your father would disturb his neighbors. He shakes his head, knowing that playing dumb won't work, so he switches tactics. "Last time I checked, your daughter is an adult and can go where she pleases, with whom she pleases."

“Our daughter is engag—.” Your dad begins to yell as Dave takes a step towards him. Seizing her opportunity, your mother immediately pushes her way through the small gap Dave leaves in the door.

She screams your name, the shrillness of her voice sending a shiver throughout your body, “Get downstairs now, do not make me come up there.”

You groan as you kick the blanket off of you and roll out of bed. Bending down and grabbing Dave’s shirt from yesterday. You hear Dave yell as your father barges his way into his house, and starts bellowing your name. Slipping on his shirt, you slowly make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs.

Dave huffs, pushing past the older couple to stand at the bottom of the stairs. A silent sentinel between you and your parents. He can see the abject horror on your parents faces and doesn't give a shit as long as you are okay. "You need to leave." He demands again, crossing his arms over his chest.

The sound of your fathers disgust hits your ears like a tonne of bricks falling right in front of you, “You need to leave,” you echo, “Dave’s right.”

"Dave?" Your mother's voice cut through the air like a knife. "Your professor? You call him Dave? You're sleeping with him!" Her face is a mixture of horror and shame, looking at you like you have killed her.

You make your way down the stairs and stand next to Dave, “I am an adult,” you say, your voice shaky as not sounding anywhere as brave as you’re willing it to, “And I want you to leave.”

“You’re a whore,” your father immediately counters back, “Dressed in his clothes… Sleeping in his bed.”

His words feel like a bucket of ice water being dumped on your head, and you look over at Dave, his face contorted in anger and his hands balling up in fists.

You reach over and grab one of his hands, “Get out of our house.”

You are the only thing holding him back from tossing both of your parents out of his house on their asses. He knows you love them still, despite trying to control your life. "We are going to the school." Your father hisses, righteous indignation pouring off of him in stinking waves.

Dave barks a laugh and shakes his head, smirking angrily at the other man. "No you won't." He sneers. "To tell them that two consenting adults are sleeping together?" He asks, aware that you could possibly be tossed out for violating the morality oaths the school has. Firing him would be more difficult since he has tenure, but not impossible. Still, your parents won't risk others finding out. Their pride was more important than their daughter.

"You would have to tell them that your daughter isn't pure. That you failed as a Godly example. People would find out, people always talk. Wonder what kind of house you ran." He taunts, moving his hand from under yours and he wraps it around your waist, pulling you against him protectively. "And you will not talk to her again until you apologize for calling her a whore."

Your mother takes a step towards you and shakes her head, “Go upstairs, get dressed and get in the car,” she orders, ignoring Dave and narrowing her eyes on you, “We can tell Joshua and his family that we found you in a hotel, and this little mistake—.”

“No,” you yell back at her, “You can call me a whore. You can get me kicked out of the college I didn’t want to go to in the first place, but you will not call my fiancé a mistake. The only mistake I’ve made was not sticking up to you both sooner. So leave. Go back home and go tell everyone that your perfect little daughter is nothing but a filthy little whore.”

"Fiancé." Your father bellows in anger, puffing up again. "Your fiancé is the boy we picked for you. Not this, this - man!" He scoffs. "He doesn't want you. He wanted to taint you, to get you to sin. Spoil you for your husband. The girl told us about him."

“The girl? What girl?” you ask, “What are you talking about? And again. I am an adult. I don’t need you to pick a boy for me.”

"You are our daughter!" Your mother shrieks, spit flying from her mouth as she screams at you. "We decide what is best for you, you disobedient child!"

"The girl. The one that said she was in Bible study with you." Your father answers, ignoring his wife's outburst.

“Deandra?” You say with a laugh, “The girl that’s been trying to fuck Dave since the first day of class?”

You turn to face you Mom and shake your head, “Yes your daughter, but not your goddamn property. Just leave. Now. I’m not going with you. I’m not marrying Joshua and I’m not spending the rest of my life too scared to speak up anymore.”

Dave is proud of you, immensely proud of you for standing up for yourself. Looking over at you with a smile and nod of encouragement before he looks back at your parents. "You can leave now and we will talk later on when you've calmed down. Or I will call the police and have you arrested." He tells them, his tone flat and serious. "Your choice."

“If you don’t come with us now,” your father says after pulling your mother back to his side, “You will never be welcome in our home again.”

Dave squeezes your hand and you can sense he’s about to snap but before he has a chance you give your dad a little shrug, “I was never really welcome in the first place.”

“You truly are a disappointment,” your father says as he grabs your mom's hand and leads her towards the door, “When he wakes up bored of you and you have nothing and nowhere to go, don’t come running back to us.”

“Jesus.” Dave strides to the door, making sure that your parents are barely on the other side before he slams it and locks it. Turning back to you with a look of compassion and sympathy as you stand there on the last step of the staircase, looking lost. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.” He murmurs, rushing back over to you to pull you into his arms.

The tears that you expect you start welling up in your eyes, don’t come, instead a wave of relief floods through as you nuzzle your face in his neck, “I love you, Dave.“

“I love you.” He wants to assure you that none of what your parents said will come true. To tell you that you have nothing to worry about, but he will do that later. Right now, he just holds you. Needing you close and letting the relief of you staying with him course through his veins. There had been a moment where he thought you would give into them.

You rest your forehead against his relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, before whispering “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He chuckles softly, knowing that you need something comforting right now and he will give you whatever you want. “Pancakes sound perfect, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and pulls back to look into your eyes. “Extra chocolate chips.”

[Five Years Later]

The sound of your twin daughters giggling happily fills the air as Dave dumps another bucket of sand in front of them, whilst insisting that he’s going to build them a castle fitting for his little princesses.

A smile spreads across your face as you finally feel ready to reply to the email that has been sitting unanswered in your inbox for days.

You rest your free hand on your growing bump and the sun immediately reflects off the gorgeous ring on your finger. You open the camera app and snap a photo of the bump housing your unborn son, your ring, the back of your girls heads and a gleaming Dave staring up at you with the most loving smile splashed across his face.

You attach the photo and simply type back,

Hello,

I have all the family I could ever need right here with me, so no, no you can’t meet my children.

I couldn’t protect myself from you both for so many years, but I will make sure I keep them safe from the hatred you spew under the guise of religion.

Despite everything, I wish you both well.

Goodbye.

Looking up at you, Dave is once again struck by how serene you look. Perched on a lounger with your toes in the sand with the umbrella overhead, you are basking in the warm sun without being overheated whilst looking like an angel in your white bikini. His son on display underneath your breasts.

Five years since that horrible night where your parents disowned you and left you with Dave, he hopes you’ve never regretted a day of it.

Marrying quietly at the courthouse, the two of you had very deliberately started your life together. Dave taking another position at a different college, one that didn’t hold bitter memories for you. Your own education now firmly in your hands and he had meant what he said when you would do what you wanted.

The girls were born three years ago, his princesses, and he adored coming home to you and them every night. Now, the next one - your prince - is on the way to complete your little family.

Dave has everything he’s ever wanted. Almost. He sends you a small, dirty wink before turning his attention back to the girls. Later tonight, he’ll corrupt you just a little bit more.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #professor!dave york #religious corruption

331 notes · View notes

originallandlockedmariner · 10 months

Text

"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth." (Alan Watt) I pronounce it Tyoosday. I’m usually the first to text. I haven’t worn underwear since the tenth grade. I like to make situations awkward when given the opportunity. I always say hi to dogs and moo at cows. I’m a courtesy flusher, wicked awesome steering wheel guitarist, and I open chip bags with my teeth. I believe in chivalry, ghosts, manners, manifestation and using my turn signal. I’m a girl drink drunk. I have zero energy for liars. Sleestaks, Ogopogo, Witchy Poo, Linda Blair, and boiled brussels sprouts terrified me as a child. I think vulnerability, a woman’s confidence, and conversations that last for hours are incredibly sexy. I have 7 scars, some are visible. When I laugh hard, it turns into a wheeze and the back of my head throbs. I am vulgar. Like a lot. I wasn’t a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey; preferred Topping From Below. On the rare occasion, I actually finish a book I’ve started reading. I have never eaten at Olive Garden. The first album I bought with my own money was KISS Alive II. I’m stupid stubborn. I’ve been to eleven weddings and half as many funerals. I don’t buy birthday cards or Christmas cards, I make them. I’m secretly still a LEGO maniac and will always be a neighbor of Mister Rogers. Chances are, I’m up before you every single morning. I don’t like cilantro or olives. I’ve been a teacher longer than I haven’t. Nine is my favourite number. Over the years, I’ve been thelandlockedmariner, withouthaste, and various shades of asshole. Like Anthony, I’m a cheap, nasty, low-down, trailer park, burger slut. I have never traveled in Europe. Hopeless Romantic/Filthy Mind. My reputation has been tarnished over the years, but I’m proud of who I am. I still can’t tell the difference between a sweet potato and a yam. I’ve bumbled my way through speeches to a four grad classes and a thousand or so unimpressed family members. I met Dave Grohl and Jennifer Lopez in the same day. I had my first tattoo at 19 and its now covered over. I am private and yet a completely open book. I lost my virginity to the song Rocketman. I broke the same collarbone twice. I say fuck too much. Like a fucking lot. I prefer not to make reservations. I am ferociously loyal to a fault. Creativity is my catharsis. Most days, I exist in two places. I have three equally spaced moles on each side of my belly button. I use voice to text when I can’t remember how to spell a word. I overthink far too often. I have a very unhealthy frame addiction. I’d rather show up in person than online shop. And after nearly half a century, I finally found my home… and her name is Jaime.

@daily-esprit-descalier

#me #my words

49 notes · View notes

maninthemiroh · 22 days

Text

My CM DR as Incorrect Quotes P2

John: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance? Strauss: No. Me: No. John: Didn't think so.

Dave, to Spencer and I: Woah, dude, premarital hand holding? That’s totally not groovy! Me, squinting: How many wives have you had? Dave, putting his hands up, placatingly: Touché.

Aaron, to Emily and Luke: I need both of you to help, and by "help,” I mean “do literally anything.” Emily, smirking deviously: Anything? Aaron: Aaron: I sense that I’ve made a mistake.

*While the team is in a shootout* Tara, trying to warn about the location of an enemy: To the left! Derek: Take it back now, y'all!

Spencer: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was, “Woah, it’s canon,” and I think that maybe things like that are why Corvid made me get tested, too.

Dave to Kate: If we’re in trouble, just throw JJ, Aaron, and Corvid at the problem, then hope for the best.

Spencer: Are you having another depressive episode? Me: A depressive episode? Me: I'm having a depressive series, and we're just on season one.

John: I can’t tell if you’re a genius or just incredibly arrogant. Dave: Well, on a good day, I’m both.

Alex, discreetly texting Kate: Alex, help! Me and Corvid are being kidnapped! Kate: Where are you? Alex: We’re with some strange man in a car, and Corvid is asleep. Help! Kate: I'll call Spencer. Spencer, answering his cell: Y'ello? Kate: Alex texted me and said she and Corvid were being kidnapped. Spencer: Whaddya mean, they're both with me- Spencer:Spencer, hanging up: I'll call you back. Spencer: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN'T THAT BAD! Alex: WHO ARE YOU!?

Derek on Monday, glueing a dime to the sidewalk: Heh, heh, heh. Derek on Wednesday, walking down the street: Ooh, a dime! Must be my lucky day :)

JJ, holding the aforementioned item out to me: I made this friendship bracelet for you.Me, squinting: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.JJ, retracting her hands: You don’t have to wear...Me, snatching it from her: No, I’m going to wear it forever, fuck off.

Matt: Emily, what did you do!?Emily: I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem, and I tackled it head on. Matt: I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Tara: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Matt, embarrassed: Killed someone.

Derek: Working sucks.Derek: I want to be a malewife where my only responsibilities are being sexy and cute.

Kate: You need a hobby. Penelope: I have a hobby! Kate: Hitting Luke isn't a hobby.

Linda Barnes: *Is lying on the floor with her eyes closed*Dave: Hey, is she sleeping or dead?Kate, shrugging: Hopefully dead, I hated her. Dave, nodding: Yeah, me too.Linda Barnes, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

Me: You’d be stupid to genuinely try and fight me. Luke: Oh, you’d be surprised how much stupid shit I do.

Tara: They made Penelope cry!Matt: Penelope always cries! Penelope, already tearing up: That's not true!

Derek: Don’t worry, I have a permit.Aaron: This just says, “I can do whatever I want.”

Emily: I like your new pants! Spencer: Thanks, they were 50% off!Emily, winking: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. Spencer: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.Emily: That’s... not what I meant. Spencer: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Luke.

John and I: We’re not funny, we’re just really mean, and people think we’re joking.

Matt: Thank you for not saying, "I told you so." Me, shrugging: When you’re as right as I am, you don’t have to say it.

Derek: Is this about me? Luke: No. Derek: Then I've lost interest.

John: Do you have a second to talk about the environment?Strauss, drunk again: Do you have a second to eat my farts?

Penelope to Spencer: You should change your passwords to "incorrect." Then, every time you forget it, the system will remind you, “Your password is incorrect.”.

Emily: Corvid likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.

Matt: What’s up with you? Luke: What do you mean?Matt: You’ve been nice, helpful, and actually funny all day. What’s your game?

John: I truly believe that water can solve all your problems. John: Weight loss? Drink water.John: Clear skin? Drink water.Me: Want to get rid of someone? Drown them.

Spencer, talking to Matt: You’re trying to lure me into a false sense of security! Well, joke’s on you! I’ve never been secure in my life! And I’m not about to start now!

Dave: No more making fun of me when I misuse dated cultural references, alright? Are we cowabunga on this? Spencer, sighing: Fine, we're cowabunga.

Alex: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke?Me: I only like dark humor.Alex, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? Me:Alex: An impasta!

Aaron: I just had a long talk with Luke and Penelope about hitting, and now they are yelling, “It’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence” before hitting each other.

Derek: If I run and leap at Corvid, they will most certainly catch me in their arms. Derek, running towards me: Incoming!Me: No! I’m holding coffee!Me, resigned: *Drops coffee and catches Derek*

Me: Dammit, you ruin everything! Strauss: You're welcome.

Strauss: Gagak isn’t answering my calls. Aaron: Allow me. Strauss: I tried 6 times, what makes you thi- Me, answering on the first ring: Hello?

Tara: Are you sure Spencer’s going to be able to handle that Ikea furniture? They’re not very good with technical stuff… JJ: Why are you worried? Ikea is easy to navigate! Everything’s color coded, numbered, and there’s even an assembly robot option to make it even easier for him, which we’ve obviously opted in for. All they need to do is press the clearly labeled ON button, scan the QR code on the front of the box, and it’ll take care of the rest. Even a monkey could do it! *JJ’s phone rings* Spencer: Hey, so I’m at Lowes… Tara: … Tara: I should have gone with the monkey.

Me: I told Spencer to grab snacks for everyone.Derek, looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes fruit snacks? *Aaron, Alex, Dave, Emily, Luke, Penelope, and Spencer raise their hands.*

Penelope: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Me: Okay. Penelope: And make out during the scary parts. Me: Th- Me: The scary parts. Me: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl?

Luke: *Is hugging me*. Penelope: Hey, it's my turn to hug Corvid! Penelope: *Grabs Corvid* Emily, kicking down the door: What do you mean, "yOuR tUrN"? We agreed now is my time slot! Luke: No, it's still my turn! Me, suffocating: Guys, you know I barely like affection as is, now you’re trying to schedule it…? Luke: But we need the moral support! Penelope: And you're like a giant teddy bear! Emily: If I don't hug you right now, I think the depression will kick in and my body will stop functioning. Me, tiredly: Fine.

Tara, on the phone: Where are you? Emily: I told you, I’m at home. Tara: Swear you’re not at Chuck E Cheese again? *Skee ball machine alarm goes off in the background*

Supervillain!Unsub: I have an army. Matt, shrugging: We have a Corvid.

JJ: I need life advice. Penelope, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

Luke: The best part of an Oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. Me: Darkness without light is an abyss, and light without darkness is blinding; you cannot have a coin with one side. Luke: YO, SOCRATES, IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE!

Spencer: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Dave: You’re too young to have enemies. Spencer: You don’t even know.

End note: All quotes, though many were modified, originally hail from this link!

Divider credits: @/i-mmaculatus and @/v6quE

Taglist: @amiivrse @colettecrybaby @the-badass-penguin

4 notes · View notes

theyanderespecialist · 2 years

Text

William's Nightguard (Headcanons/Scenario) William Afton X Nightguard Reader

#YandereWilliamAfton #Yandere #YandereFNAF #FNAF #WilliamAfton #WilliamAftonXReader #Reader #NightguardReader #FemaleReader

[Hello My Sexy Muffins, It is the new year. And I hope we all made it through 2022 and that 2023 is even better. Now in this, we are doing William Afton, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!]

(Disclaimer: William is a child unaliver in canon, but he is not yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and fictional yanderes is fine. As long as you are not illegal or gross about it and you remember to separate fiction from reality! Yanderes and people that are like William Afton. They are not ideal to have as a partner in real life.)

(Please enjoy this chapter!)

-Yandere Headcanons William Afton X Nightguard Reader (Five Night At Freddy's)-

.William was pretending to be Dave, for he had the plan to get the remnant from the animatronics to put in the Funtime Animatronics suits.

.Though his plans had nothing to do with the security guard he had to train.

.That Security guard was you, an interesting person who once dave saw stole his heart, and made the already unstable man even more unstable.

.He is very unstable and obsessed with becoming immortal.

.He has lost his daughter, and one of his sons, and his eldest son did not want him in his life.

.He is a man that has nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

.So when he met you he was obsessed and that obsession for you was very risky.

.He isolates you from anyone who can take you away.

.Stalks you, and breaks your car down so you have to call him for a ride.

.He gets close to you so you depend on him.

.He would not be afraid to gaslight you, manipulate, or guilt you into being with him.

.He also has been stalking you and even broke into your home.

.Getting rid of anyone in his way.

.If you have a partner he will kill them and hide the body, you will think they are missing or that they left you.

.William of course will be there to comfort you manipulating you even more.

.He would confess to you when he knows he has manipulated you enough to win you over.

.If you say yes, he is never going to let you go, he is never going to let you leave him, you are his and his alone.

.He will make you into an animatronic if he has to, that way you and he will be immortal forever.

.Always together.

.With his nightguard side he most likely would kidnap you as well after drugging you and keep you locked away. In his home, in the woods, where he will NEVER let you go.

-Now here is the scenario, enjoy-

(No One's POV)

"So you are the new nightguard." William who is pretending to be Dave asks you, you are such a lovely woman, he could not help but stare a bit. At the very least desire in him.

"Yes I am." You him.

He stared at you for a long moment. His smile was wide, unnerving, like there was something wrong about it. It made heyour shudder a bit. He felt his heart race, the power he had over you and how innocent and soft you looked. He wanted to destroy you, but also treasure you at the same time.

"Follow me, little bunny." He says to you making you look at him oddly.

Why did he call you little bunny. You both make it to the office and began to work. William watches you as you presses the buttons. He knew that you are the one for him. Just watching you made him feel the most joy he has ever felt.

This is how it started William watching you like a hawk everytime you saw him. It only got worse as this continue. As you started to feel watched as you were out of work. To the point it feels like you always have someone's eyes on you. The feeling only went away when you were with William.

It made you at ease when you were around him. Feeling safe and sound. Though you were not safe, not one bit.

You had to check the suits tonight. So you walk up to them, the feeling of being watched back. You slowly shine your light on them. Something was leaking from the suits and it smelled of rot and death. You gag and leaned closer.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" You scream and step back dropping your light!

There was your boyfriend in the suit! You thought he just left! But no he was, he was..

You did not get to finish another thought as a hand clamps over your mouth and you hear William. "You were not supposed to find him, little bunny." He whispers in your ear. "To bad he had to be gotten rid of. Just breath my little bunny. Everything will be okay when you wake up."

You then feel a needle prick in your neck. You try to fight against him but for someone built like a twig he was very strong! You slowly began to feel tired and do your best to keep your eyes open but your body goes limp and you are lifted in the arms of the man you think is Dave.

He grins at you and then last thing you see is his insane smile and a look of pure obsession in his eyes.

"Dave..." You say and then everything went dark.

[WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO You just got kidnapped! I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy all my sexy muffins, hope you all have a good new years welcome to 2023!]

[Side not in my youtube version of this I added a bit more just a heads up, anyways once more stay sexy all my muffins!]

#yandere #yandere william afton #yandere fnaf #yandere five night at freddys #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf william afton #william afton #william afton x reader #reader #female reader #nightguard reader

146 notes · View notes

pedropascalsx · 2 years

Text

Kinktober - Day 5 - Formal Wear - Dave York x F! Reader.

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist with @absurdthirst's promptlist.

Warnings: Dave York being an ass, mentioned M/F/F threesome, unprotected sex, cream pie, murder, mentions of murder, some fingering and dirty talk? If I missed anything please let me know.

Summary: You and Dave go to the ballet.

A/N: so this ended up having a lot of plot and hardly any smut; i am really sorry if it doesn’t really work for kinktober.

thank you to my wife and sweetest love @theewokingdead for looking over this for me!!!

You know he saw it, you know he saw the way your breath hitched as you opened the door and took in the sight laid out in front of you.

Looking as broad as ever whilst dressed in his sharpest tux. He looked gorgeous and you hated how much it affected you.

He said nothing as he gave you the once over, his eyes slowly dragging up and down the length of your body before slightly tilting his head and rolling his jaw.

“Let’s go” he ordered before turning away and walking back towards his car.

You hate him. You actively despise the arrogant, miserable and unbearably sexy man that you’re being forced to spend the evening with.

Dave York. Your boss. The man that for some unknown reason seems hellbent on making your time at his company hell on earth. He’s rude, unhelpful, cocky and loves nothing more than reducing you to a bumbling mess. He knows the affect he has on you, he’s known since you caught him celebrating his divorce by fucking both the receptionist and secretary in his office at once.

You walked in on the debauchery after he ‘forgot’ to lock his office door and he saw the way your face fell, and then he saw the wanton look that became etched across your face as you so clearly wanted to be the one he was relentlessly pounding into.

It had been a few months and you’d both refused to bring it up, you had been expecting him to taunt you about a few times, but instead he just continued his usual masquerade.

And now you’re climbing into his shiny new car, dressed in the prettiest dress you’d ever seen and preparing yourself for a night of little snipes and eye-rolling.

He’d made it clear from day one that he didn’t want you on his team, the only reason you were there was because of your father and the fact Dave still harboured a lot of respect for him even years after his death.

Your father had taught Dave the majority of what he knew, taught him to keep level headed and provided him a lot of support when the CIA had disbanded Daves branch of operations and connected him with a bunch of people that helped him create his own business.

A few months after your fathers death you had been forced to reach out to the man that you’d only ever known by name, the name your father taunted you with as a child as he forced you to follow in his footsteps; spending his life craving a son but being forced to raise a daughter. You were good, great even, at your job, but it was never enough. You were never Dave York; and therefore you’d despised the man before you’d ever met him.

Being forced to turn up to interview for his agency was soul destroying, but you had to do what it takes to survive. So you called him, explained that your father had left you in a world of hurt, his own business had been so deep in the red that it was honestly a miracle that he’d managed to keep everything covered up. His death was ultimately the undoing of it all, the people he owed money to, the jobs he had never completed became your problem and you’d been forced to sell up your childhood home to pay off the debt your father had so gracefully left you.

You promised to prove to Dave that you would be a great addition to the team but he simply rolled his eyes and told you that if your father wasn’t your father he’d have never given you the time of day.

The rest of the team were a little more welcoming and some even relished in the fact that your sweet, kind and peaceful demeanour had meant they were able to get a lot closer to hits than ever before. No one would ever believe that this girl; the sweetest girl they’d ever meet would be capable of doing things with her hands that the devil himself would be proud of.

You’d worked tirelessly for months, earning every single job thrown your way completing them all without a hitch; until you’d been assigned Roger Hamilton.

Roger Hamilton of Hamilton estates. A man so hated that he had been forced to hire a round the clock security team to keep him safe.

When the job had come in you audibly laughed at the fact it had been taken on. The whole of the town you lived in knew that getting close to any of the Hamilton family was a near impossible feat; and the moment that giggle fell through your plush lips, your fate was sealed. It would be you, you would be the man that Dave would assign this job to - just so he could watch you fail.

For weeks you spent hours on end looking for ways to try and get close to someone that could just even maybe get you close to Roger Hamilton; but nothing.

And then one fateful night after spending hours tossing and turning, the little nugget of information that your brain had selfishly been hoarding was set free. His niece. You knew his niece.

One of the only things your father allowed you to do outside of the strict regime he held for you was dance. You’d begged your mother to let you attend ballet lessons and she had managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to take the lessons; with the knowledge that this would be a hobby only. And if you were to ever get silly ideas in your head involving this hobby becoming something more, there would be consequences.

Despite the support and backing from every dance teacher you’d ever worked with, you declined every invitation to join dance tropes, ballet companies and even offers to attend prestigious dance schools and it broke your heart.

So maybe that was why this crucial piece of information had been held hostage by your brain for so long, a means of punishing yourself for not living the life you were supposed to choose for yourself but instead becoming the killer your father had set out for you to be.

All it took was a friend request on facebook, a few messages sent back and forth and a mere three weeks later on your way to a night at the ballet that featured Hamilton's favourite niece and according to a lot of speculation; Roger himself would be in attendance.

Did you feel bad that you were using an old friend to get close enough to kill her uncle in cold blood? Absolutely not.

Did you feel fucked off that you had no choice but to spend seven hours convincing Dave York that the speculation was enough for him to approve the mission? Yes.

Are you still feeling fucked off that Dave York ended up being your plus one because Ari got injured three days earlier on a mission of his own? Abso-fucking-lutely.

“I don’t understand why you’re making us watch the fucking show? You said she got us a pass to the after party, so why do I need to spend 2 hours watching them prance around on stage?” he grumbled as you approached the theatre, the rest of the car ride had been in total silence.

“Because we will get asked about the performance and if we didn’t see the performance it would make it difficult to answer said questions.” You replied with a heavy sigh.

“What kind of questions are they going to ask? What the fuck am I supposed to know about fucking ballet?” he countered back with a louder sigh of his own.

“I’ll answer the questions, Dave, you just stand there and look pretty.” Your reply; filled with disdain.

“The box immediately to the left of the stage,” you whisper into Daves ear after taking your seats, “I told you he’d be here.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll be staying for the after party,” he replies with a shrug, before moving close enough that you feel his lips ghost against your ear, “And it’s not like you can take a goddamn shot from over here.”

He hears you gulp, he knows that the lingering feeling of his breath is still coating your skin and making you lose focus. He knows the effect he has on you, he hates that you have the exact same one on him. And now he’s squished up next to you, unhappy he’s about to spend two hours watching a show that he has zero interest in and the only thing that he can think about is how you look in that dress; his own brain refusing to let him escape his current reality.

You’re gorgeous. The moment you walked into his office, he knew he was fucked. Carol had handed him divorce papers after announcing that she’d met someone else. And then you waltzed into his office, all kind natured and pretty and with killer hands that rivaled his own.

And he hated that he knew he could never have you. He knew that he couldn’t send you away without a job, your father had admitted to him once that he had moulded you into something that you quite wasn’t.

So he hired you, he kept you at arms length and refused to praise you in the way that you so desperately deserved; out of pure fear that he wouldn’t be able to stop and would confess things that he had vowed to keep buried.

And then you opened the door earlier that evening, dressed like that and you looked at him in a way that he felt everywhere.

The two hours seemed to flyby, you were mesmerised, every step, every twist & turn and every part of the show was transportive. You briefly forgot why you’re there as you became more captivated, so entranced by the magic unfolding in front of you that you forgot that Roger Hamilton was seated a few hundred feet from you and you didn’t notice that your boss was completely captivated by you.

He had the urge to reach out and grab your hand a few times as tears began to stream from your eyes, he wasn’t sure if you were aware that you were crying because you seemed to be in some sort of trance and it wasn’t until the room erupted with applause that you were pulled out of it.

And now you were both standing in a large room at the back of the theatre being handed a flute of champagne as your eyes searched the room for Roger Hamilton.

“Wow. You haven’t changed a bit,” an overexcited voice shrieked out as she ran towards you, “It’s so good to see you. I was so happy when you added me on facebook… gosh it’s been years.”

You were pulled into a large hug the second she finished speaking and before you could speak, she was turning her attention on Dave.

“And who’s this?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, “I didn’t realise you’d be bringing such a handsome… friend with you.”

“Dave,” he answers with a noncommittal shrug, “Nice dancing up there.”

You can hear the lack of interest in his voice but it somehow seems to be lost on Louisa as she attempts to flirt with him. The jealousy that builds up in the pit of your stomach is kept at bay by his clear lack of interest and as you busy yourself with a large sip of champagne; you see Roger Hamilton enter the room.

And the creepy bastard takes no time before locking you in his sights.

It’s almost like a dream, the easy way the man that you’ve been sent to kill just saunters over to you without a care in the world. He doesn’t seem to notice Louisa standing a few feet away from you as he reaches out his hand to introduce himself, you politely introduce yourself back and catch a glimpse of Daves face which is as stoney as ever with maybe a slight touch of shock.

“Ah, Uncle Roger! So glad you stayed for a drink after all,” Louisa chimes in as she grabs another flute of champagne from a passing waiter's tray.

It took almost no time. Dave immediately stepping up to distract Louisa as you took the champagne flute from her hand and passed it to Roger, managing to slip the vial of liquid into his drink without him noticing; distracting him with a slight ‘stumble’ calling attention away from your left hand by waving out your right for him to grab as you almost fell to the floor.

It was impressive, the way you moved, so gracefully and efficiently.

And fuck, it was so unbelievably sexy to him, watching you perform a move that would end someone’s life in a matter of hours without a seconds hesitation. The liquid would be undetectable in his bloodstream, the autopsy will reveal he simply had a heart attack and his death would simply be chalked down to natural causes.

You both stayed for another hour, making idle chit chat with other attendees and stealing glances from each other until it came too much and Dave announced it was time to leave.

He said nothing else to you as you made your way to the cloakroom, making sure to take another look over Hamilton before exiting the room. The cloakroom was empty, many guests having already left and the ones that were still lingering would be there until the party would inevitably be closed down.

He was standing behind you staring at you in the big mirror you were both in front of; silently waiting for you to pull on your jacket and leave.

But you didn’t. You stayed glued to the spot watching his reflection watching yours.

And it was like you both became magnetised, you clutched at the arms he wrapped around you as he started murmuring filth into your neck, and then kissing along the soft skin, “I saw you that night you know, I saw how you looked at her. You wished it was you didn’t you? You wished it was you that I was slamming my fat cock into.”

You had never been spoken to like this and you keened into his touch, “yes” you murmured as his hands travelled down and began to bunch up the material of your dress, lifting it high enough to see the lacy panties you’d been adorning underneath it.

“Fuck,” he grunted before ripping the lace, ripping them with such force that one of the seams was fully torn apart and he watched as they fell to the floor, “I’m going to fuck you here, exactly how I know you’ve been wanting me too and then I’m going to take you back to my bed and I’m going to take you apart as many times as this pretty little cunt will allow. Now bend over.”

You immediately comply and he rewards you by dragging a thick finger through your folds, “Jesus fucking Christ; you’re soaked, baby. You’re gonna like this aren’t you, you filthy girl?” Watching yourself in the mirror as I make you cum on my cock?”

You whimper in reply and he’s unsatisfied with your response, he pulls his hand away and brings it back down with a firm slap across your pussy, “When I ask you a question, you answer me. Do you understand?”

“Yes” you say with, voice dripping with venom.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Good girl,” He presses his finger inside your entrance and the filthiest moan slips out your mouth, “How many times have you touched yourself thinking about this, pretty girl?”

“Too many,” you admit as he pumps his digit in and out of your heat, somehow managing to ignite something glorious inside of you with each thrust of his finger, “Can’t cum unless, i’m thinking about you.” You admit with a shaky breath.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He repeats over and over before slipping in a second digit, “I think of you too. A lot. When i’m fucking my own fist or trying to find someone to get you out of my head, I can’t. Always end up thinking about you.”

“Fuck me then” you mewl as you clamp down hard around his fingers, “Fill me up, Dave.”

His hands immediately wrestle with his belt, undoing it before working on his pants and freeing his cock. You gulp loudly as you get a glimpse of it in the mirror, thick + long and throbbing in his hands.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” he warns, “You want me to stop, you gotta tell me to stop.”

“I’m not going to tell you to stop. Fuck me,” you all but beg as he drags his cock through your folds, telling your arousal soak his length before he lines it up with your entrance. He buries himself to the hilt with one fluid movement, and he groans at how your pussy immediately reacts to him, your walls fluttering around him as you suck him in deeper.

“Hold on to the desk” he warns, “This is going to be hard and fast. The quicker I can get you out of here, the fucking better.”

And then he starts to move, like really move, rocking his hips with the most perfect precision as his cock rubs against something glorious inside of you with every rust, his fingertips digging into your hips so tightly you know it’s going to leave little bruises. He knocks the wind of of you in the most delicious fashion, pleasure coursing through your veins as he fills you up better than anyone else, his name falls from your mouth over and over again in a continuous stream as you flood his cock with your arousal, clamping down so hard around him that he hisses in your ear and it disturbs his perfect rhythm of thrusts.

“Look at you, look at how fucking pretty you look whilst taking my cock. Fuck. Wearing this fucking dress, looking this fucking pretty, like it wouldn’t make my cock rock fucking hard…” he groans before bending down to bite down on your exposed shoulder, pushing himself in deeper and loving the way you clench down around him as he does, “You knew exactly what you were doing when you bought this dress, didn’t you? You know just how much you drive me fucking. crazy? Looking so fucking sweet and innocent. But you’re not so sweet now are you? Not now you’ve soaked my cock with your cum.”

His thrusts get sloppier and sloppier as you keen underneath him, still riding out your high.

“Fuck, i’m going to… where?” he chokes out as his orgasm threatens to arrive at any given second.

“IUD. Inside.” You managed to choke out, before you feel him paint your walls with his seed.

He stays inside of you for a few moments as you both reclaim your bearings, remembering that you’re in the middle of a cloakroom that anyone would walk into right now and he abruptly pulls out.

He tucks himself away as you straighten down your dress and pull your jacket over your shoulders. You hear a sharp chuckle from him as he bends down to pick up your destroyed panties and he holds them out for you to take and you respond with a slight raise of your eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with them now?”

He chuckles again before shoving them into his pants pocket, “Come on sweet girl, I’m fucking aching to get you home and taste you.”

“Really, you don’t want to stick around and watch that old bastard die?” you quip back a giggle.

“Let’s go, baby” he orders for a second time that night, but this time with an outstretched hand ready for you to grab and a bunch of promises he intends on keeping.

THE DRESS:

#kinktober 2022 #dave york #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york smut #fanfic #my fanfiction #pedro pascal #OK I AM ESCAPING TUMBLR FOR THE NIGHT AS I AM NERVOUS LOL

125 notes · View notes

moonlightchess · 1 year

Text

Men, dudes, gentlemen and bros, let me tell you all about how sexy respect and empathy are with a brief tale from my undergrad years of doing nude modeling for university art classes and private, independent artists looking to commission models. I became known in my local art scene for being an easy model to work with, since I usually brought my own snacks/robe/anything else I needed, and made very few demands on the painters and sculptors with whom I was working.

A local artist in his late 30s, a sculptor, got in touch with me in 2016 . He explained that he was creating a piece for which I would be the perfect model (and for those aspiring, do NOT let things like cellulite, rolls, or any kind of "imperfections" that you think your body might have dissuade you. Artists, in my experience, LOVE details they can use like that.) We settled on a contract, which was an immediate green flag for me since it generally indicates that the artist is legit and not just trying to get a naked girl in his attic for the evening. All in all, he was lovely and my experience talking with him over the phone and getting the details of my payment out of the way was absolutely fine.

So I show up on a blustery March day in Boston. I'd forgotten my usual terrycloth robe that I would bring to modeling sessions, but it turned out that was okay because the artist, Lee, had one ready for me. And not only was it brand new, he'd washed and heated it for me directly before my arrival? He had a small table of snacks set up, which was more than most artists ever bothered to do, including hot tea and coffee AND juice, since he didn't know which I preferred. At this point I have hearts in my eyes.

I took my clothes off while he got his clays ready, and he points behind himself and hands me a remote. I was completely lost for a minute, until I looked up and realized that this man has set up an entire ass television for his models to watch while he works, since we're usually standing in one (probably uncomfortable) position for hours. He had space heaters aimed at where I was standing, and he casually informs me that if I want music instead, there's a bluetooth speaker I can connect my phone to and play anything I like. I am SWOONING now.

I picked music for the first block of modeling, jazz because y'all know me, and the minute it started playing he gasped, "Is this....Dave Brubeck? Oh my god, you are minted." It's generally bad form to talk while modeling for obvious reasons (distracting the artist, shifting your position slightly, etc), but he was so easy to talk to that we just kept chatting while he worked. I won't lie, I accidentally shifted more than once, but every time he would just murmur comfortingly, "No, no, that's perfect, I love that," as he manipulated his clay.

I need you all to understand how appealing this was. I need you all to understand that had I not been working, were I not a professional with a reputation to uphold, I would have fucked the SHIT out of this man. I would have quietly posed for him for as long as he wanted, and then I would have gladly allowed him to bend me over every fucking surface in that studio, I NEED YOU ALL TO GRASP HOW FUCKING SEXY THIS WAS. He could have HAD ME IMMEDIATELY had I not been working. He could still have me today, SORRY TO MY PARTNER BUT.

#OH MY GOD I STILL THINK ABOUT HIM TODAY #he was so kind! so respectful! so lovely!#men it's literally this easy to get laid!#JUST DON'T BE A DOUCHE????

29 notes · View notes

29pageshomestuckeveryday · 1 year

Text

Homestuck, page 4,372

[A6I1] ==>

hey everybody! this is john. actually, it is john, jade, and dave sprite. we all contributed to the contents of this bucket! we have to make it quick because apparently you're about to go on a long journey, just like us. i'm sorry we can't be there for the big meetup. karkat, i deeply regret that i will not be present for these highly touted "TROLL/HUMAN SLOPPY MAKEOUTS", ha ha. maybe in three years, assuming you all aren't totally smooched out by then!!! (i am just kidding around, btw.) rose and dave, you both look totally sweet! i can't believe you're both god tiers now. did you know jade is too? also, she has dog ears. she looks fantastic. how cool is it that we're all god tiers? it's like we're a super hero team, or some kind of anime squad. like the sailor moons, i guess, but not as lame, or as sexy. i'm going to miss the hell out of you both for the next few years. i'm already looking forward to this new session so hard. it was a fun adventure we had today, wasn't it? i'll even miss talking to the trolls too. say hi to them for me, even though i didn't get to know many. except karkat obviously, and oh yeah, vriska too. vriska, if you read this, thanks again for all your help. i don't think i'd have made it this far if not for you! i just thought you should know that. jade and dave sprite both say hi and send their best wishes. but now jade says i have to finish quickly! she wants me to throw this bucket and its heartfelt payload through her mysterious portal. so here i go. see you all in 3 years!!! ~john

#gif

11 notes · View notes

littleelephanty · 2 months

Note

Hiiii!!!! I LOVE THE STORY WITH THE OLDER MAN AND THE WOMAN! I WANT THAT KIND OF STORY AGAIN PLEASEEEEE!!!! PLEASEEEEE! I rub my pussy everyday to it!

(My kinks include also sugar daddies and being a lesbian (because I am kinda lesbian?), forced to have sex with a man!)

I'm not quite sure how you can be a bit of a lesbian - because you're either lesbian or bisexual with preferences in one direction or the other, or straight… but I think I know what you mean and of course I'll write you a story! I love writing stories to specifications and desires (naughty that you masturbate to my stories though - I love it anyway!).

Delilah was kicked out of her home after she came out. It wasn't easy to finance her training as a physiotherapist and her apartment with a part-time job. But she met an older woman in an LGBTQIA+ bar with whom she got on well and who offered to pay her for back massages after they had been talking all night.

For the next month, the older woman gave her a twenty a massage and she came twice a week. Although the money improved Delilah's household budget, the additional 160 bucks were not really enough. So Clara suggested to her: “Well, you know sugar daddies. I could be your sugar mommy, but you'd have to be a bit sweet to me, so occasional back massages aren't enough.” Since Delilah was really desperate and she liked Clara, she decided to give it a try. Clara still always came to Delilah's house. It started with Delilah having to let herself be touched. Clara was gentle but strict. If Delilah flinched or avoided her touch, Clara reprimanded her. But Delilah liked that in a strange way. She was like a mother, only much more physical. Clara kissed Delilah too. In return, she now gave Delilah enough money for the rent. So Delilah could work a lot less and actually train to be a physiotherapist. To be honest, Clara's pussy also tasted very good and Delilah loved it when Clara came to her apartment in the evening and let Delilah lick her pussy. “I'll pay for your apartment. So I need a key,” Clara had demanded and Delilah had handed her the spare key. She quickly got used to Clara's occasional unannounced presence.

And then Delilah got down on her knees and hoped that Clara would sit down on the sofa so that she could lick her pussy, because if Clara didn't sit down, she expected Delilah to treat her feet instead and that meant that Delilah had to kiss Clara's feet. These passionate kisses often had to last for minutes and definitely had to include tongue.

It was clear to him that husbands thought it was okay for wives to engage in homoertoic games. But this choice of words was strange. Clara, however, told Delilah that she should come into the living room. Delilah wanted to sit down on the beige corduroy sofa, but Clara clicked her tongue. Her husband sat down next to her and Delilah stood in front of them, confused. “Take your clothes off and try to look sexy,” Clara urged her. Delilah stripped for the couple. She now stood there completely naked. They both looked at her scrutinizingly. Then Dave said: “You made a good choice. She looks good. Usable.” They both looked at each other with satisfaction for a moment. Then Clara said: “Kneel down and crawl over to us. Ask Dave to let you give him a blowjob.” “I'm a lesbian,” Delilah reminded her, ”I know, but your mommy wants you to do something good for her husband.” And so it was that Delilah blew the only man in her life. She was good at giving Dave oral pleasure. And it became a habit for her to be at Clara and Dave's house, taking turns pleasuring them or licking Dave's cum out of Clara's pussy. It wasn't unusual for her to be fucked directly by Dave while Clara rode her face. She got good pocket money from the couple. But that wasn't the only reason why Delilah liked to visit them. She also enjoyed being used by them without restraint. And she also enjoyed calling them mom and dad in public.

#answered #anon ask #send anons #soft kink #soft sub #bd/sm blog #bd/sm relationship #bd/sm dynamic #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm community #mommy k!nk #daddy k!nk #cnc daddy

1 note · View note

popcornforone · 1 year

Text

Peppermint

A Dave York Fan Fic

Surprise

Back to back Dave York Saturdays. Yep. I was having a chat with a few friends about Pedro & @fatimaisabelpascal showed me an item of food which was called Yorks… now here I am writing something very sexy & steamy that was originally going to be maybe 4 paragraphs & now… yea it’s taken over. Damn it Stabby why are you such a menace & so easy to write about.

Synopsis: Dave & you are posing as a couple for a mission, but the night before one moment could make a fakelationship into something much more.

Word Count:3100

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING. Mentions of assassins, fake relationship, colleague sex. One time affair both reader & Dave are unfaithful. reader is bisexual. Oral sex male receiving, deep throat, gagging , fingering, use of vibrators, talk of masturbation too , swearing, innuendo, sexual fantasys about each other. Basically as you know by now when i write Dave he’s a menace & he gets what he wants. Slight Dom controlling vibes.

Thanks for the read peoples, as always all feed back is welcome. Please let me know what you thought. & I hope you all enjoy, this added bonus.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz buzzzzzzz… the electric toothbrush goes. You stand in the hotel bathroom cleaning your teeth. It’s almost bed time, you’ve got a long day tomorrow, the mission is important & you need to be well rested. You’ve done a brilliant job convincing everyone at the pre-charity meet up that you & your husband are inseparable & all over each other but that couldn’t be further from the truth. For the man playing your husband would never usually give you the time of day, but for one week he has to & for 5 days you’ve been a very good wife.

You stand in front of the mirror cleaning your teeth, the peppermint toothpaste tingling your taste buds. You had yours confiscated before getting on the plane, too large for your carry on, as most of what you needed for this mission including clothes was being sent by your team, so you are sharing your fake husbands. It’s while you are brushing that you hear him mumble, so you pause the cleaning to spit & ask him to repeat.

“There’s no wire in this bag that was dropped off” he groans as he packs his suit carefully tomorrow to take out the target.

“Who dropped it off?”

“Evans”

“Well that answers that” you say sarcastically to yourself & roll your eyes, looking down at your phone to check the weather for tomorrow. You don’t see that he catches a glimpse at you doing that & it’s making him smirk. He’s got changed to go out for a late evening run in a few minutes time, before he comes back to the hotel room for a cold shower & then to sleep before tomorrow. Your room has two double beds in it.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks & he leans against the dresser in the room, as you do your final spit before adding mouth wash.

“He hates garrotting Dave” your then rinse & grab a small towel to wipe your face after that & splashing it with water & turn off the bathroom light. “I think he didn’t enjoy watching it in the academy & now doesn’t want any of us to do it.”

“But it’s clean &…”

“Effective yes Dave, I’m on your side with this.” You’ve worked with agent York long enough that you know what he’s going to say next. A deadly creature of habit with a huge ego who some times does need knocking down a few pegs.

Your other hand has a small box in it that you throw at him & he plucks from mid air.

“Seriously?”you nod as he looks at what you’ve thrown him “floss?”

“Not as good as the wire but good for taking peoples eyes out”

“Huh?” Dave has seemingly forgotten that you once blinded a man using this. It then triggers as he recalls your face & the pride you had when you told everyone how your captured your target that day“point taken” & he puts it in his suit. But as he does this he admires your floral night dress. The way it skims your body & he smirks. It’s the first time either of you have been on a mission pretending to be a couple, neither of you know that the other has a slight crush on each other.

You fluff up your pillows on your bed & put the tv on for some white noise while you ‘read’, so that when Dave returns after his run you can then fall asleep. There’s no point already being asleep for him to later turn the lights back on. Dave fill us his water bottle & puts his watch on before he does a few pre run stretches. The way that tshirt is already showing off his chest, always makes you glance for a few seconds longer. He looks good in this but you know tomorrow night in that suit with his fake charm it will not be difficult to be besotted by your fake husband, who’s there for a quick & easy kill.

Dave grabs his running shoes & sits on the edge of his bed, he’s still looking at you too. His fake wife. He wishes the kisses you had been giving him were real, because he wanted them to linger longer. It’s hard for his mind to not wander what it would be like to share a bed from you. To fuck you hard. To take your arse. To make the bed creek & to get a call from reception from upset guest on either side of your room, from the noise heard on the other side of the walls. He knows little about you, usually just your name & that you are a level 8 operative will do, while he is an 11. More than qualified for this mission you were. He respects you & what you do. if you had been a 6 or bellow he’d have fucked you already each night hard & told you it was to keep up appearances, & asked what you’d be willing to do for the cause. But no Dave knows that you know the drill. He’s not going to touch you unless you both agree to it inside the hotel room.

Dave then spots something on the bottom right of your lip.

“Come here” he says, his two long fingers beconning you across & you turn around l, your night dress swishing. You do have knickers on but they are silky & once Dave leaves you will be taking them off under the sheets. His 20min run, gives you time to use your vibrator, to satisfy your needs without him having to hear. You have to hear him masturbate in the shower each night since you’ve been here while you’ve tried to sleep. It turns you on slightly that Dave is that comfortable with you, he must realise you can hear him go ooh god at his point of climax, as he spills into the water. What neither of you know is it’s the other person that you are both thinking of while you do this.

You walk across to Dave, putting your book that you’ve been not reading down.

“What is it?” You stand next to him.

“Just this” his large fat flat thumb trails across your bottom lip & wipes the toothpaste clear & you clench at nothing between your thighs, while Daves cock twitches inside his running shorts. You moan softly at the feel of this & you trail the back of your knuckles down his face. A soothing touch making you both go even weaker. This tension even if it has been fake for show can’t be ignored anymore.” All clean” Dave mumbles, his eyes have yet to leave yours & you without hesitation sit on the bed next to him.

“It’s peppermint” you whisper.

“I know it’s my toothpaste remember” he scoffs & you softly smile at him.

“I’ll buy you more when we get back,”

“No need, you smell minty fresh”

“Well at least my mouth does” you blush & flutter your eyelashes at him without even realising, those pooling caramels are now hungry, full of desire & dilating.

“Let me find out.” His hand goes around your chin. That large hand with that thumb stroking.”if you…”

“Yes” you don’t let him finish asking for your consent. You hold his face & kiss him in a frenzy. It’s not fake. It’s not for anyone else. It’s what you’ve wanted to do since you got into the room on Monday night. The way his thin lips feel on yours feels exquisite. It proves that all your other kisses the two of you have had in front of others for the last few days have been for show & fake, because right now, as his hand glides through your hair & the other trys to palm & calm his growing erection, your both feeling it & your both wishing you’d acted on this sooner.

“Oooh girl”he gasps, one of his hands goes down your silk night dress, gliding over it until it reaches the hem. It’s more than half way up your thigh. His tough as he grabs your thigh has you quivering. “You sure?”

“More than sure” it’s breathy already your words before your lips reengage. Neither of you are saints. You’re both in long term relationships out of this room. But your partner you’ve been completely honest with, she knows what you do for a job & sometimes going the extra mile for a mission to save others & get information, she understands. She always laughs though when you say you have to seduce a man. But this one might be harder to explain, having sex with a fellow assassin. Daves married, he’s not had to put on a wedding ring, it’s his own to Carol, but you don’t know he’s been admiring you from a far for a little while & requested that you be his fake wife on this mission. Being higher up gives him more clout. He’s wanted to rail you for a long time & marriage troubles at home has made him pine more.

Your palm his groin feeling him get harder the longer these kisses linger. His long neck is exaggerating meaning more places for kisses. It’s been your preferred kissing choice these last few days, concerned that you would enjoy too much a kiss on the lips which is now being proven. His hand goes under your night dress & finds your silk knickers, moist & desperate.

“My my” he tuts as his hand goes inside them & straight for your clit. “Your girlfriend must be livid, you’re soaked & she’s not here to enjoy it.”

“Dave” it’s just barely audible. Your whimper almost a plea.

“Let me see, let me see your pretty little cunt, let me see what she gets to taste.” Dave stands up lifting your night dress off your body, exposing your breasts. You automatically start to tease him by massaging them, your nipples erect in a few seconds. “Lie on the bed, head this end, almost overhanging the edge” Dave then heads to your bag having a rummage & you’ve not moved, you’re admiring his bum in those shorts. “That was not a request” he snaps, so you do as you’re told. Your knickers are still on but your arousal is now showing, no amount of silk can hide that. Dave scowls as he searches in your bag & then goes ahh & produces the bullet vibrator from your bag. He looks smug & you look embarrassed. “Do you really think I have no idea what you do each night when I go running, I hear you moan on play back”

You are angry but then play him at his own game.

“Do you think the walls & water in the shower stop me from hearing you?” You lick your bottom lip & he then walks round the bed & kneels between your legs.

“You are meant to be asleep?”

“& you aren’t meant to bug your own room & record me”

“Fair enough, but I don’t play fair.” Dave cackles. His fingers & thumbs go inside your waist band & your silk knickers leave your body, your knees raise & then Dave pushes them apart, exposing your sex to him. “Ooh fuck baby, dripping & ready.” He flings his tshirt off, his rock hard chest & abs always a delight to see.

“I want you to pretend I’m not here & start to use this” Dave says flicking through the 10 different functions on the toy. He stops at number 5 wondering how that would get anyone off at all. “I can even turn the lights out & pretend…” he’s leaning over your body caressing it & he runs the vibrator near your nipples & you grab it, which stops him in his words.

“Ooh no I want you to see Dave” you quickly hit the button to get it to setting 2 the medium one”this will get me going” & so you start to stimulate yourself with the small toy. Dave watches in wonder. He’s never see anyone use such a small toy before. Often he’s seen women use much bigger ones but the second you start hissing & gasping a smile comes across his face, watching your cunt, finger & vibrator get slicker.

“Wow, look at you” he licks his lips. “It’s a shame really, my cock isn’t for your cunt, not tonight anyhow”

“Mmmmmm” it’s an almost question leaving your mouth as you switch it to a pulsing rhythm moving the toy in circular motion over your clit.

“If the mission goes well tomorrow. I’ll fuck your cunt all night long, you’ll wish to always be my fake wife on mission.” He gets off the bed & comes & stands to where your head is almost hanging off the bed. “No tonight..” he undoes his draw string of his running shorts “…tonight is all about that sparkling clean minty fresh mouth of yours…” the shorts & briefes are dropped down around his ankles. Your eye flutter & are a gasp as to how big & meaty his penis is. You almost drop your vibrator in excitement. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth so you can’t moan” & he gets in a stance & pulls your head over the edge of the bed.

“Dave, your your…”

“Take it like a good girl” your eyes are looking up at his cock balls & arsehole. He’s on his tip toes. That large hand stroke his cock a few times before he lowers himself on to the flats of his feet & guide the cock straight into your mouth & down the back of your throat. You gag instantly & this makes Dave moan. “Oooh baby, gagging will just make me go down your throat further.” He withdraws slightly but not all the way out of your mouth. He can see your hand has slowed down with the toy, but he can also see all the saliva coating his cock. This make shin twitch you can feel it in your mouth. He plunges his cock back into your mouth. “You gotta work for this too girl, don’t let me be the only one trying.” You take the hand that’s not pleasuring you & you grab his thigh & start to move & bob your head towards him as he bounces, gagging a lot. His hands are on your shoulders, & he closes his eyes each time you gag. But Dave wants to keep his eye on your cunt as well. You’re now at the max setting, he can feel the bed reverb a little. It’s exciting him. Your body is taking so much of him.

“Next time we do this we record it, I wish we could both properly see the way your body is twitching.” Dave groans. He’s so far down your throat, you’re wondering if you might not be able to cope for much longer. Your gagging & spluttering just keeps making him move harder & faster, & the more he does this the more your hand & the vibrator stimulate you.

“You’re so fucking good, best fake wife ever, taking my cock, letting me go almost balls deep, fucking yourself. Your girlfriend is so lucky” he’s almost growling his grip getting tighter on your shoulders. He’s gonna cum soon & so are your. The vibrator is at its most powerful & your hips are stuttering. You can’t moan or say a thing, your mouth full, so at your point of orgasm your long finger nails dig into his thigh. Dave yelps & withdraw slightly & you gasp for a small amount of air & your pleasure takes over. Your drop the sodden toy & your dripping hand from your arousal join the other hand on Dave’s other thigh to finish him off. As your come down 3 thrusts later he spills straight down your throat. Hot ropes of cum past your taste buds to start with as he’s gone past that point but eventually as he withdraws you can taste the tang of his cum. He did even give you a chance to spit, your mouth & throat are now coated, & he is now empty.

He sits down next to you nude on the bed so he can get his breath back & you kneel up rest your head on his shoulder.

“Good girl” he says gasping for his own breath as his hand goes to your clit to swipe up your own juices. You moan at his touch & then look as he licks those fingers clean.

“Good head” you reply & smirk & nip at his ear lobe, he turns to face you & smirks.

“I some how don’t think that is toothpaste” Dave jokes as he takes his thumb & trails it across your lips, getting the few splattering of his cum that escaped. He doesn’t need to ask you suck that thumb clean, you do it instinctively. He smacks you on the bum as a reward, before then getting dressed in his running gear agains, finally putting his shoes on this time.

“So what will you do while I’m out tonight?” Dave asks “after the way your body twitched, I doubt you’ll be giving yourself more pleasure” he says as he grabs his head phones.

“Depends” you say as you find your nightdress & slip it back on. You make sure to bend over when you pick it up, you’ve not put your knickers on yet. “I might face time my girlfriend, tell her about my deep undercover mission & how it’s going,” Dave smiles at that. You saying this puts you both in your place that this is a mission treat & wont be continued when you’re back Home. “But I do need to clean up first, my teeth need another clean”

“Maybe next time we go on a mission like this I’ll use your tooth paste” Dave chuckles.

“& get us into this situation again?” You respond as you head to the bathroom & turn on the light. His face drops before he here’s the hum of your electric tooth brush thinking that was the only time he’d have you ever. You then slowly pop your head around the corner & say just before he leaves “yea I’d be up for that”. The smirk behind your eyes has you both knowing that peppermint toothpaste will now both take you to naughty places that only exist when you are being a fake couple.

35 notes · View notes

saccharineomens · 6 months

Note

For the controversial ship asks: 👅💣💗💔

👅 Ship that you find most sexy: Unfortunately, at the moment, it’s ships that include my ocs. o3o Especially Liam. That desperate to please himbo can top and bottom with a crazy amount of enthusiasm. That’s not very controversial though. Hm.

Boyd Mosche/Ned Chicane from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty. Controversial because they’re toxic exes with a lot of drama and crimes behind them. Quickly followed by Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas from The Magnus Archives, with similar divorced energy.

💣 Ship that pisses you off: ‘pisses me off’ is a strong term — most things I don’t ship I am simply neutral about. but alright, I’ll share publicly what I usually only say to friends in private: Dave/Karkat from Homestuck. I simply think their entire characters (mostly Karkat) were filed down to nothing but their relationship with each other. Their relationships with other characters started to feel thin. They felt at the same time codependent and like leftovers who were the last possible option for each other. I haven’t read Homestuck in ages, and I stopped reading it after the epilogue (I read Meat and skimmed Candy). I hear they’re officially canon now and maybe the writing got better, but as someone who likes both of those characters a lot I simply don’t like their ship. At least in Dave’s case I heard he and Dirk get some quality moments? That’s great!

edit: in fact, in Meat it seems to confirm my position further because it wasn’t until Karkat and Dave ‘broke up’ that Karkat really blossomed into a revolutionary leader independent in his own right. Which was my favorite part of the epilogues, though I still don’t know if I accept Meat and Candy as canon, really.

💓 Ship that you didn’t expect to ship but now do: Marcille/Laios from Dungeon Meshi. When I finished reading Dungeon Meshi the first time, the only ships I really saw any foundations for were Kiki/Namari and maybe Chilchuck/Senshi (though their lives really ended up pulling themselves in opposite directions). I’m a multi-shipper, though, and when someone brought up the possibility of Marcille and Laios, the second time I read the comic through I really saw what they meant. I had always liked their dynamic, but now I could see the deep respect, protectiveness, and compassion they came to feel for each other. They’re both my favorite characters in the story, they both deserve nice things, and they’re pretty perfect together.

💔 Ship that makes you sad: Oh, so many. I can’t even think of a controversial one. The first one coming to mind right now is D/Rogier from Elden Ring. It’s sad but poetic when at first you bond over your loneliness and finding someone who shares your interests, but slowly you find that your solutions to a problem are so fundamentally different from each other that you can’t reconcile that with how much you care for each other. D’s comments about Rogier in the Roundtable Hold reek of bitterness, but Rogier seems to still hold a saddened respect for D’s skill. Add in Fia’s involvement and how her companionship likely drove even more of a wedge between Rogier and D and you got the mixings of a perfect tragically doomed romance. Not to mention all three of them dying (without reconciling) based on your actions during the game.

Send me a controversial shipping ask!

#Axbox #imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs #Thank you for the asks!

2 notes · View notes

deadcactuswalking · 7 months

Text

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 02/03/2024 (SZA, Central Cee, Pozer)

Beyoncé may have the #1 for a second week with “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” but the real winners on this UK Singles Chart are songs benefiting from songs above them plundering, partly thanks to everyone’s favourite arbitrary rule, Accelerated Chart Ratio (ACR). I am never explaining that rule, look it up, but you’d think maybe we’d get a surge of new songs, right? No, it’s a pretty minimal week, and I’m not complaining. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40, and we have… unless I’m missing something, surprisingly little of note here? We bid farewell to “BACK TO ME” by Hitler, Goebbels and an uncredited Freddie Gibbs, “Ophelia” by The Lumineers, “Toxic” by Songer (thank God), “Sprinter” by Dave and Central Cee and of course, Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved” but that’ll be back soon enough.

Okay, so as for returns, we just get Ye’s “Runaway” featuring Pusha T back at #48, but our notable gains are where this week gets actually interesting, because we actually have quite a few, particularly in the top 40, thanks to ACR as mentioned but also potentially some TikTok-related industry politics that probably act in parallel with each other, but we start with “Thank You (Not So Bad)” by way too many brain cells at #68, “Soaked” by Shy Smith at #51, “vampire” by Olivia Rodrigo at #44 and “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #41. Then the top 40, where all Hell breaks loose, though most of these songs are actually pretty good: “Birds in the Sky” by NewEra at #40, “Made for Me” by Muni Long at #37, “Never be Alone” by Becky Hill and Sonny Fodera at #35, “Whatever She Wants” by Bryson Tiller of all people at #31 (and yes, I think I get it now), “On My Love” by Zara Larsson and David Guetta at #28, “Scared to Start” by Michael Marcagi at #22, “Nothing Matters” by The Last Dinner Party at #16, “Lovers in a Past Life” by Calvin Harris and Rag’n’Bone Man at #13, and finally - unfortunately - we have “CARNIVAL” by Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign featuring Playboi Carti at #9. Yes, it’s Rich the Kid’s first top 10 hit and no, you should not care.

Our top five should sound pretty normal, apart from a new entry into the top 10 at #5 as Djo gets his first with “End of Beginning”. I guess Steve Lacy can be a one-hit wonder twice. Aside from that, well, it’s all pretty expected: “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan at #4, “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone at #3, “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #2 and Bey at #1. I like how this top five is a herd of angsty indie rock-adjacent white dudes led by the queen of the hive.

NEW ARRIVALS

#61 - “Love On” - Selena Gomez

Produced by The Monsters & Strangerz and Isaiah Tejada

Man, one of the few times that a mainstream artist releases a well-received and popular album that I think is absolutely brilliant, if not perfect, and none of it charts in the top 75. I’m not revealing who that is, if you know, you know. No worries, guys, we have Selena Gomez instead! God… to be honest, I like to give Selena the benefit of the doubt more than often, and I actually really like this song for its quirks as I’ll discuss later, but it’s pretty funny that this song starts with the French language only for all of that effortlessly seductive aura to be replaced with “Wait ‘til I get my love on”. What? In fact, this song is incredibly clunky in its sexiness or lack thereof, and if you think it’s to fit an already constructed rhyme or construction… why does it sound this awkward and almost improvised? “Screaming yes in quotations”, “night shift but with all the perks” (or Percs?), “why are we conversating over this steak tartare”? Yes, Julia Michaels, I knew you wrote this song before I checked the credits, you didn’t need to make it too obvious. Now I actually love this song, it’s so artfully stupid in execution: Selena sounds Auto-Tuned to Hell as always but it doesn’t grant her any rhythm with that robotic hook slipping over itself, as if the verses don’t embarrass her enough: Isaiah, listen, why leave her only with the clipping bassline and add all those accentuative vocal effects? It’s almost cruelty. She doesn’t even sound like herself on the strained falsetto pre-chorus, especially not those backing vocals which you could easily convince me are Toro y Moi of all people, and the chorus promising that you should just wait until she has her love on before she loves on you, which is… what? Asexuals could write better songs about intimacy, but in all its goofiness, the song ends up winning me over on pure silliness. The production has a straightforward groove but a lovely disco swell to the strings, detailed vocal layering and those phased synths acting as stabs that make Selena’s rhythmic bruising in the chorus sound almost normal are the icing on top. This is an adorable little failure of a song, I kind of admire it. Push it in the same category as “Feather” by Sabrina Carpenter in being loveable nu-disco messes.

#49 - “Showtime” - Catfish and the Bottlemen

Produced by Dave Sardy and Ryan McCann

It’s been a five-year hiatus, but indie rock band Catfish and the Bottlemen are back to music, though with some departures and line-up changes, and oddly enough, all of that ties into the fittingly titled comeback single, “Showtime”. Yes, this song is about the strains of touring and life on the road as part of a band, but how that’s all ultimately worth it for how gratifying it is to make an impact on listeners and be performing to audiences, as well as being with the band members he loves to record and perform with. I love the breakneck pace of the bass and post-punk rhythm of the verses and pre-choruses with that soaring guitar lick, and I think that the lead singer Mr. McCann (of no relation to that one) has a solid control of his distorted nasal tone until that disappointing chorus comes in which doesn’t feel nearly as ambitious or arena-ready as it wants to be, mostly because McCann is mumbling and it halts the momentum of the entire song. Also, it starts really shoddy lyrically, it’s hard to sound profound when half of your chorus is moaning “fuck that shit, get on this”. It does end up contextualising itself better on repetitions, mostly because of the warm finger-snaps in the bridge that eventually evolve into a heartland rolick that gives the final chorus space to breathe in a muddy mix… then seems to never fully get its power back, replacing it with a gross basic synth that parades around a befuddled Bottlemen, until eventually the song is just a lo-fi piano recording that doesn’t feel like it’s entirely warranted its inclusion, though it wraps up the narrative nicely as he comes back home after touring. I really like the sentiment of this song and parts of what it’s going for but the chorus, which really makes or break an anthemic song like this, just loses me, which is really disappointing as the rest of the song focuses entirely on building up to it. I’m sure it’ll be a killer live, but that’s also with the caveat that when performing live, they can mess with the structure, the lyrics and the performance, as well as most importantly for this one, the mix… so I don’t think this song will ever sound as good on record as it could do at a festival, which considering the song’s content, is kind of beautiful.

#29 - “Kitchen Stove” - Pozer

Produced by Young Madz

It’s pretty weird that this is not the first time in recent memory that I’ve never heard of the lead rapper on a track but have seen a dozen or so credits for his producer. Unlike Rich Amiri, this is far from rage however, it’s a drill track, of course, with Young Madz being a New York producer who’s worked with Fivio Foreign, the 41 collective and sadly, Lil Mabu, as well as having produced a previously charting track from Russ Millions. Pozer, on the other hand, has no other songs, with this being a breakout track on TikTok as well as his debut single… that’s being distributed by Sony. Yeah, slick one there. To fully understand this, we need to look back two years for another fluke viral hit, “snowfall” by Øneheart and reidenshi, a Russian space ambient track with over 500 million streams on Spotify - yes, really. It debuted nearly exactly a year after release and eventually peaked at #57 in 2023 whilst Miley Cyrus’ “Flowers” was #1. Øneheart’s follow-up was another ambient track, “this feeling”, which is not nearly as successful and also not as good, mostly because it lacks as sticky of a lead as “snowfall” and falls more into a vaporwave-esque filter of hopelessness which resonates a bit less. It does sound ripe for sampling though, especially that tiny vocal lead at the tail-end, so I guess it makes sense that for a manufactured viral hit, Madz took a sped-up version of the Russian ambient song and put it over some of the most rote, typical Jersey drill percussion possible. He doesn’t do much chopping, mostly because you don’t need to - like I said, that vocal sample would be perfect under Jersey drill, and Madz had the exact same idea, I suppose. Pozer, despite the name, isn’t exactly a bad rapper, his flow is pretty typical but solid and his second verse goes into more introspective and paranoid territory, pretty befitting of the haunting production… my problem is his delivery and the way he’s mixed: he just sounds too obvious. For production as potentially eerie as this, the production needs to be way more textured and dynamic, and Pozer himself needs to be quieter in the mix - as do the bed squeaks. This feels like a perfect lay-up of an idea that would make both a great song and an easy hit just fumbled in execution. It’s still a functional song for sure, but it doesn’t hit the way it absolutely could have.

#18 - “I Will” - Central Cee

Produced by John Alexis and LIOHN

Cench has another single out as he seems to drip-feed these - if he keeps them all on the record, that debut studio album will be more like a greatest hits compilation. As for this new one… first of all, I need this guy to step away from women: he’s awkward, condescending, and has strange fixations on this girl’s mother, how “young” she makes her feel, as well as just the extents of the capabilities of his penis… as well as a song-long hyperfixation on her shaving her privates. Over an Ed Sheeran-sounding beat? The acoustic guitars don’t mesh with the distant vocal loops, his vocal mix sounds horrifically unprofessional as does his complete lack of melodic understanding or personality when trying to sing on the chorus. You’d think he’d try and pick up the rapping to make up for it but he sounds half-dead. Speaking of Ed Sheeran, even he raps better than this - and yes, that includes about sex and relationships. There’s so little in the beat to distract from Cench’s terrible performance and content, so this is just an embarrassing display of everything that he cannot do properly. The second top comment on Genius, so you know, the fans, is asking what the Hell this is, and I can’t say I disagree with the fans in this case. I know you love Drake, it doesn’t mean you have to be him.

#15 - “Saturn” - SZA

Produced by Carter Lang, Rob Bisel, Solomonophonic and Monsune

SZA’s finally released a highly-anticipated song she performed at the GRAMMYs that may be connected to some form of SOS reissue and… oh, this interpolates one of my absolute favourite albums of all time. The opening track to Canadian composer Mort Garson’s peaceful, dynamic and forward-thinking 1976 electronic album Mother Earth’s Plantasia may not be iconic to everyone, but I still get goosebumps listening to it and that’s even outside of its greater context where this is the opening suite to a themed, arguably conceptual record acting as a love letter to two different pets of the musician: the myriad of plants his wife grew in the home, and his admired Moog synthesizer that he composed the entire album on. Sadly, Garson passed in 2008, before the record could gain its underground cult following amongst music fans, and before its official reissue in 2019 which particularly benefits the opening track, which has since been used in advertisements and now ends up interpolated on SZA’s new single, which released as a surprise to her fans and feels like a pretty spiritual return to some of the sounds explored on CTRL, using the sprinkling nostalgic synths of “Plantasia” as a backing for her lamenting of how dull and monotonous life on Earth can be. It’s actually fascinating to use that sample considering how celebratory I’ve always seen Garson’s album of both the natural world and human influence or appreciation of it, but definitely not a bad one as Lang, Bisel and co. add their own cascading synths to the dejected drum mix and warm guitars that flow this song swiftly into psychedelic territory, especially on the gorgeously harmonic chorus. My favourite moment may be the pre-chorus though, where SZA’s vocal layering filters into the static of both itself and the incessant hi-hat wearing itself out over time. It’s pure escapism for sure, much like a lot of this week, really, but it’s damn effective escapism, pulling you into this forest that, despite my general issue with fade-outs, makes sense to drift out of existence. The song’s about wanting to live on Saturn, I can just imagine that as the song fades out, we pan away from SZA and the camera focuses on the scarce night sky peppered with stars. If a song ever justifies its cop-out ending, then it’s doing something really right.

Conclusion

Yeah, the girlies really won this episode, didn’t they? SZA takes Best of the Week away easily with “Saturn” but “Love On” by Selena Gomez does take the Honourable Mention. As for the Dishonourable Mention, I think Pozer just frustrates me with “Kitchen Stove” whilst Central Cee handedly has the Worst of the Week because Jesus Christ, “I Will” is almost irredeemable on pretty much all fronts. As for what’s new on the horizon in the coming weeks, I’m unsure, but it will be interesting what new stuff arises as a result of the ACR clearout this week. For now, thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next week!

#uk singles chart #pop music #song review #sza #mort garson #central cee #catfish and the bottlemen #pozer #oneheart #selena gomez

3 notes · View notes