#he could spit on me and i would start a religion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

simpjaes · 13 days

Text

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.

Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

You really seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.

No one would even know.

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.

“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now. At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh.

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.

You’ve gotten wetter.

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?

No.

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.

But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

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strawberrystepmom · 4 months

Text

pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner?

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.”

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips.

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.”

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar.

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.”

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you.

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.”

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing.

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock.

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.”

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked.

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel.

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel.

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him?

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length.

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip.

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth.

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below.

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.”

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

#kenjaku x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #kendall writes

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melodygatesauthor · 10 months

Text

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe One - The Original

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

In every universe there's a version of you that exists. In some of those universes, you're in love with me; in others, you don't even know my name. None of it matters though, because when I find you, I will have you, I'll make you love me, and I will never lose you again.

Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, reader lives in New York in North America but isn't necessarily American, reader is not religion coded, reader is smaller than Miguel but like so is almost everyone, reader is female.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, obsession, Miguel is not Spider-Man, does NOT take place in the MCU, Miguel is a physicist, Miguel needs therapy, smut, violence, blood play, yandere, protective, obsessive, possessive, murder, suicide, drunk driving, anal sex, oral sex, major character death, romance, angst. - Some (not as triggering) tags were left out in order to avoid spoilers.

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a morning like every other.

You opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings, feeling the stirring of Miguel while he snored against your chest. Looking over at the clock, you noticed it wasn’t quite seven yet, and it would still be a few minutes before your alarm sounded, signaling it was time for you both to get ready for work. He shifted a little, smacking his lips together before going back to his mouth-breathing slumber. Precious.

You’d only been married for a year, but it was a perfect year. It was a year filled with tear-inducing laughter, eating takeout on the couch, and afternoon naps when you and Miguel both managed to get the day off together. You couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your forever, and you knew he felt the same.

You carded your fingers through his dark hair as you lay there, enjoying the scent of his shampoo and wondering if you’ll ever get tired of it. Something about it made your heart swell, and it reminded you that you were home. He rolled his cheek into your torso more, mouth still open and creating a dark spot on your shirt where drool spilled out. A sharp snore erupted from him as he stirred, startling you. You giggled, feeling silly for jumping so suddenly.

That sound – He loved that sound.

Your sweet little laugh that permeated through everything, that woke him out of the deepest sleep, that brought him back to the present every single time he heard it. He looked up at you, his breath always catching in his chest at the sight of you, so beautiful in every single way; nothing could change how you made him feel.

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from his stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

You started to slide out of bed, but he caged you in with his ridiculously strong arms, keeping you in place and mumbling something incoherent against your stomach.

“Baby, we have to get going. I have that big meeting today with the art director at the firm, and you have to pitch your idea to the board,” you said, tapping his shoulder.

He looked up at you again, eyes still hooded from sleep. He sighed, leaning up on his elbows and pressing his lips against yours hungrily. Miguel seemed to growl sometimes when he got in the heat of passion with you. His massive hand grabbed your hip and pulled you under him further, while the other cupped the back of your head to make the impossibly deep kisses even deeper.

“We have a few minutes,” he insisted, reaching between you both to pull his sweats around his thighs.

You moaned, another sweet sound you made that Miguel could record and listen to on repeat for an eternity. Such a simple noise and yet it made a shiver run down his spine almost every time he heard it. He brushed the head of his cock against your inner thigh, making your skin slick with his precum. He pulled aside your panties, not bothering to take them off; he wanted you now, and removing them would take too much time.

No matter how long you and Miguel had been together, and no matter how many times he split you open, you never quite got used to the stretch. You gasped, arching your chest into his with that first thrust, giving him the opening to wrap both arms around your back and pull you close. You loved the sound of his fast and desperate breaths while he huffed in your ear, chasing his release, and trying to make sure you got yours too. He knew exactly how to position himself to ensure he hit all the right spots, not that it would be difficult given his size; he hit almost every spot.

“Oh, hermosa, always so tight, so wet…” he grunted as he slid forward again full to the hilt.

“F-fuck, Miguel!” You dug your nails into his back, putting your lips against his chiseled chest.

“Use your teeth on me, baby, give me something nice to look at when I change out of my lab coat tonight,” he said playfully before feeling your teeth latch onto his tanned skin.

He let out a low groan, enjoying the combined pain and pleasure. He snapped his hips forward and you cried out. He buried his face into your neck, pulling your mouth off his chest. He wanted to smell you; in an almost feral way, Miguel wanted to pull you close and devour you. He sucked on your neck, drawing some of the tender skin into his mouth, nipping and licking while you turned into a gasping, writhing mess beneath him.

“So perfect, honey-fuck—“

You gasped as he started fucking you faster, driving his cock deep into your fluttering cunt. You felt like you were going to rip in half, as you often did when he was inside of you. He cupped the back of your head and looked into your eyes. Fuck he loved you. With other guys you’d dated, there was always an air of doubt, but never with Miguel.

He kissed you, tangling his tongue with yours. You whined into his mouth, he loved the way he could send you reeling with his cock alone. You took him so well, you were perfect.

“I could fill you up forever, you know that?” He asked before bottoming out in your warm channel once more. “Could spend a lifetime stuffing you with my cum and it wouldn’t be enough, hermosa.”

Miguel always knew just what to say to make you come undone. You felt the heat pooling in your core, the sensation he’d given you time and time again. Your body was both vibrantly alive and tingling numb all at once. You dug your nails into his shoulders once more, he winced and hissed.

“Oh shit, baby—ah!”

Miguel’s pace slowed but he didn’t stop the rocking of his hips as he pumped you full of hot cum. You felt it spilling into you, painting your walls white while he fucked you through it. You helped him along as you reached your own climax, your tight cunt milking his cock for every last drop it could give you. Your screams filled the house, as they always did when he made you lose your mind.

He always felt like he had to use every ounce of his strength to avoid crushing you underneath his mass after he was spent. You kissed his cheek, like you always did when the two of you were done being intimate. He chuckled before pulling out of you and getting off the bed. Miguel went to the bathroom and cleaned up before tossing a towel your way.

“Honey, a couple girls from the office wanted to go out for drinks tonight so I think I’ll join them, that okay?” You finished cleaning yourself up before making your way to the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.

“Who’s going?” He spit in the sink.

“Stacy and Mira.” You finished using the toilet before starting the shower.

“Those two? Really?”

He wiped his mouth and turned to you while you stepped into the shower. Miguel didn’t consider himself the controlling or possessive type, but those two had a tendency to be wild and unpredictable. He wasn’t going to tell you no. He didn’t get a woman like you by treating you as though you were his property, but he was going to make it known that he wanted you to be careful.

“I know, I know,” you said as you started washing yourself, “I’ll be careful, daddy. I’ll be home at 10:30 on the dot.”

He chuckled, “you know if you keep calling me that, I might have to take you back to bed, hermosa.”

You laughed and continued getting ready. You knew he wasn’t a fan of your work friends, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out anyway. It’s not that you were a party girl, in fact your idea of a good time was curling up on the couch with Miguel and a good movie. It was just nice to get out for a little while and forget about the struggles of life.

Miguel always -always- kissed you goodbye before you both left for work. Even if you’d had an early morning disagreement, leaving you both pissed off and ready to ring each other’s necks, he made sure to kiss you.

“Adiós, mi vida,” he pressed his lips to yours just before you got into your car.

There were so many things that he would spend his life wondering, like: did you know you weren’t ever going to step foot in that house again? Did you know that was the last time you would ever get in your car to go in for another mundane day at work? Did you know that would be the last time you’d ever kiss your husband?

Probably not…but he would never forget.

Miguel was woken at 10:53pm that night out of a dead sleep to a knock on the door. He jumped up, noticing immediately that you weren’t in the bed with him. There was another knock, louder this time.

He knew. Deep down he knew that something had happened to you. With a shaking hand, he opened the door. You weren’t dead, and with that he found some relief, but your odds of survival were slim. Three dumb girls left the bar that night, one of which was too drunk to drive, but you let her drive you anyway. Only one of you had survived the accident, and it was you.

Miguel didn’t care that your face was disfigured, or that you were missing five teeth. He didn’t care that you weren’t going to be able to walk again, or that you might need him to spoon feed you for the rest of your lives together. He only cared that you were still breathing, even if it was labored and sounded like someone sucking the last of their beverage through a straw.

“I got here as fast as I could,” your step-sister, Emily, arrived at the hospital just an hour after Miguel had.

She put a hand on Miguel’s back as she sat next to him in the waiting room, seeing how distraught he was. With a heavy sigh, she brought both hands together and held onto her coffee cup as though her life depended on it. He could see her shaking, but he was still too angry for empathy. In fact, he thought to himself that he was glad the other two women had died, because if they hadn’t…he might’ve just killed them himself.

“How’s she do–”

“Not good,” he snapped, looking over at her.

“Oh, Miguel…” she wiped a tear from his face, “she’ll pull through, she always does.”

Except this time, you didn’t. You lived for forty-two more painful hours before your lungs collapsed and there was nothing any of them could do to save you. It was like his heart had been ripped out and trampled by a stampede.

Mi vida.

He thought about killing himself that night; considered taking the gun out of the safe he kept in the closet, holding the barrel to his skull and pulling the fucking trigger. There was nothing -nothing- that mattered to him more than you, and nothing that ever would matter more than you.

He didn’t though. There was a nagging in his head that told him not to do it, and so he put the gun back in the case and closed it, replacing it in the closet. He helped your step-sister, step-father, and your mother with funeral arrangements, but he hardly participated. Was he really supposed to give a shit what the flowers that surrounded your casket looked like? Fucking stupid.

Nothing felt the same after you were gone. Coffee didn’t smell the same, and food didn’t taste the same. He even had to start going to an actual hairdresser to get his hair trimmed because you weren’t there to do it for him. He was lost without you, in every way.

Months went by, and he’d hoped it would get easier, but it hadn’t. He still saw you in every aisle of the grocery store, picking out your favorite snacks. He still woke up in the night in a sleepy haze, reaching to wrap his arm around your torso, but he never found it. Miguel would sometimes still accidentally pour two cups of coffee on Sunday morning, forgetting that he’d be sitting alone on the patio.

“Dr. O’Hara!”

He jumped, looking up from his notepad to see his boss, Dr. Carleton Drake. The man looked down on him where he sat. He put a hand on Miguel’s broad shoulder.

“I know you’re still going through a tough time here, but we’re on the forefront of a scientific breakthrough and I need you to be present, alright?” He raised his dark eyebrows at Miguel. “I need that brain of yours on this project. I need you to get it together, big guy.”

The breakthrough in question was something right out of a science fiction movie. Miguel had always scoffed at Drake’s overly ambitious dream of traveling the multiverse, assuming the multiverse even existed. Truth be told, he’d thought it was all hogwash, but the idea that struck him that day gave him hope…hope that he might see you again.

It took three more months of sleepless nights, tireless tinkering and research for him to make something that worked. Drake was beyond impressed with the initial test, sending a rabbit from their universe to another and bringing it back with a camera attached to its collar.

“Someone dispose of the carcass,” Drake said, pulling the camera from the creature.

Miguel felt like he had a new purpose, a new reason for living. He needed to find a way to make the device work. It became his mission, because he knew once he figured it out, he would finally see you again.

It was a year and a half after you’d passed on the dot that the device was ready, as ready as it would ever be. He’d made it compact and sleek. It looked no different than a watch, and he could hide under a sleeve if needed. The most recent rabbit they’d sent out lived, but only as long as it didn’t come back. Every specimen sent out seemed to perish on the journey home.

Miguel understood that the device was flawed, and far from perfect. Having a watch that could take him to any universe imaginable, but couldn’t return him to his own, didn’t matter to him though. He didn’t want a world without you in it, and he had no intention of coming back once he left.

Miguel returned home, grabbing some essentials, not knowing where the watch might bring him, and he put the items in a small knapsack for the journey. There was a single photo, one of the two of you that he wanted to take as well, so he could always remember the original you, for what it was worth.

When he fired up the watch, he let it choose a destination at random. He didn’t know where he would end up, all he knew was that he would find you, no matter what universe you were in, and that he would make sure he never lost you again.

Thank you for reading! You can support your favorite writers by the simple act of reblogging and liking! Thank you again!

Next Chapter

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction

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fireflysymphony · 3 months

Text

First Time Headcanons: Fyodor and Kunkida

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: my motivation to write today wasn’t that high but please enjoy these short and sweet BSD headcanons!!

Word count: 1.4k

Content Warning: GN! Reader (descriptions of female anatomy and possible use of more feminine nicknames), corruption kink, oral (both parties receiving), mentions of breeding kink, orgasm denial, slapping, mentions of bondage and choking, praise, degradation, mentions of religion and using religion to manipulate, Fyodor is mean, soft Kunikida, not proofread, let me know if there’s anything else <3

Fyodor Dostoyevsky;

Firstly, this man has a definite corruption kink. The idea of having you first and ruining you for anyone else is his main motivation for taking you to the bedroom so fast. Of course, he’ll plant the idea of you two sleeping together into your head first with not so innocent accidental touches and passing comments, nothing too meaningful, right?

Also side note: if you’re not a virgin, he won’t believe you and tells you that “he’s the only one who’d ever want to be with someone like you let alone sleep with you.” Slowly, your previous sexual encounters start to feel like flukes because who would ever want to fuck someone as disgusting as you? You’re lucky Fyodor took pity on you!

Anyway, if his touches don’t get you to approach him on the topic of giving yourself to him for the first time, he’ll start making himself more obvious. You’re dense, so even if he’s blatantly up front about his needs, you wouldn’t get it. He takes to dropping lectures about how, according to god, it’s a partner's duty to give themselves over to the partner who is the provider, to relieve his stress whenever possible, and how can you fulfill your duty to him as his lover if you’re not giving him your everything, inside and outside of the bedroom? You must not care about him at all, maybe you weren’t the right choice for him. He could get anyone to be by his side, yet he chose you.

He’d even go as far as saying “if you refuse to do your job, I might have to get my satisfaction elsewhere, won’t I?” You can’t even tell if he’s lying or not.

No matter the method he used, you end up coming to his room, teary eyed from either how pent up you are or from feeling like you’ve failed him as a partner. But expect more degrading from him if you approach him because of “lustful urges.” How sinful you are for wanting to satisfy your desires. No matter, he’ll fulfill his duties as your lover accordingly.

So, onto the actual sex, Fyodor is a selfish and greedy partner normally, and it just gets worse when he has sex with you. Everything is for his own pleasure, not yours. He expects you to cater to him even if it is your first time. And he’s not gentle about it either. It’s your duty to serve him as he so often reminds you.

Fyodor sees sex as a further way to train you into being his perfect little lover which is why even on the first night you’re on your knees getting his cock shoved down your throat. Beforehand, he probably shoved his fingers down your throat to test your gag reflex before pushing you to your knees and using your mouth as his own personal fleshlight. He’s not even nice about it either…

“You’re already fucking crying? Use that tongue better. No… god you’re so useless, can’t even make me feel good without having me tell you how to do it…” He probably ends up slapping you if you do something he doesn’t like too.

The most lube you’ll get from him is his spit between your legs, or if he’s feeling more sadistic than normal, he’ll use your tears or just pound into you with no warning— during those occasions your screams of pain are what get him off most. During most rounds, you go until he cums unless he’s feeling generous.

Depending on his mood, he might not let you cum either. He sees release as a reward, and for a bitch like you who can barely take his cock down his throat, why would you deserve to cum? If he happens to be feeling generous, you’re allowed one orgasm which you’re required to clean up afterwards.

Speaking of afterwards, aftercare is nonexistent with him. Your first time he might act a little more lenient, but you’re still being trained after all. He won’t give you much, maybe a kiss on the forehead or a gentle massage before he’s ushering for you to go prepare a bath for him and then clean the sheets even if your ability to walk is limited.

Overall, Fyodor wants a doll more than a partner; someone who will listen to him unconditionally and do what he says. The only reason you haven’t been turned into an Ivan is because he finds the challenge of taming you the greatest thrill.

Doppo Kunikida:

Kunikida is similar to Fyodor in the sense that he has a bit of a corruption kink disguised behind strong morals. Unlike Fyodor though, he’s not interested in ruining you for anyone else. The notion of saving your first time for someone who you plan to stay with forever is just a more romantic sentiment to him. He's like a middle aged white man.

However, if you’ve had sex before, he won’t be too bothered since most people now don’t save themselves for marriage or even get married. It’s just one more ideal you don’t fit which is annoying, but he can’t stop loving you despite the 45 of 58 ideals you don’t fit. Maybe he needs to rethink that damned page. Back on topic, he tries hides his embarrassment towards you though. The idea that you’re more sexually experienced than him is frightening, and he’s scared to disappoint.

Luckily, he has six years to do his research! Dating until marriage gives you time to think over things like how to properly please your partner, and Kunikida has a strict six years until marriage agen- what… you want to sleep with him now? The poor man short circuits from the embarrassment and flusteredness he feels upon your request.

Whether you’re experienced or not, you’re going to have to approach Kunikida on the topic of intimacy. I doubt even when married he’d be able to face the subject at first. Whether or not you wait until your wedding night to do the deed, he’s like a robot who’s low on battery leading up to the events. On the outside, he looks like normal, stern Kunikida, but on the inside he’s panicky. What if you're dissatisfied with him in some way? Then what…

If you catch on to his internal panic or share any similar worries you have about this night, he might be able to calm down, and you guys take it slow for the night.

Kunikida slowly learns just how much he loves your body, mumbling praises about how beautiful/handsome you are. He’d never dare degrade you, the only things spilling from his lips are softly spoken praises and encouragement that you’re doing so well.

“You’re my good girl/boy, aren’t you?” “Yes, that’s right, just how I like it; you’re so breathtaking when you take me this well.” Etc.

After a few times together, he realizes just how much he loves giving you oral. His favorite position is when he’s on his knees while you’re either sitting or laying on the bed, just any position where he can look up and see all the facial expressions you make. He just likes to please you and will spend the majority of foreplay with his mouth between your legs. He’s not big on receiving oral since it just doesn’t get him off the same way giving it to you does, but if you’re insistent, he’ll let you give it to him.

Kunikida isn’t the most kinky lover and prefers to be more loving and gentle during sex, so most things like toys, degradation, etc. are kept out of his sexual arsenal. If you ask though, he’d be hesitant, but he won’t be opposed to choking you with his tie or tying you up with any soft ropes. He might not be into it, but seeing you happy and satisfied, as we’ve discussed, is his biggest kink. Under no circumstances, however, will he degrade, hit, spank, or choke you hard. That’s a big no-no for him no matter what.

Oh, did I mention that no matter what gender you are Kunikida has thought about breeding you? Well now I have. He’s too scared to bring it up, especially if you can actually get pregnant but do with that information what you will.

As for aftercare, out of all the characters in BSD, Kunikida is one of the best to go to. There’s a step by step guide both of you must follow, including a nice warm bath together and a sweet cuddle session. Kunikida takes notes on what he can do better.

Overall, a very sweet and caring partner who just wants you to feel the most pleasure he can give to you.

Requests are open <3

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x reader smut #bsd kunikida #kunikida x reader #kunikida smut #doppo kunikida x reader #Doppo Kunikida x reader smut #smut #18+ mdni #mdni #bsd

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ncteez · 2 years

Text

Sacrilege (m.l)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with Mark Lee.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

wordcount― 5.3k

pairing― mark lee x fem reader

content― top/dom mark lee, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader,

warnings― DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE RELIGIOUS OR CAN NOT HANDLE CNC. i am not responsible for your experience with reading on tumblr. I am not holding this fic in front of your eyes and forcing you to read it. I have tagged everything appropriately and suggest you scroll past this fic to save yourself from triggers or adverse reactions. This fic contains extreme disrespect to christianity and catholicism, desecration of religious symbols, and mild cnc.

note― Probably not the greatest smut ever to be written considering i did almost 0 research on these religions, but it's dirty and disgusting. if the thought of a lacquered wooden cross being penetrated into someone sounds painful, that's ok. It probably is but this is fiction and she’s gonna love every second of it, okay? Okay. Huge, fat, wet, squelching love to @domjaehyun for reading this for me and fixing all of my errors.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― mild cnc (reader is unsure about the cross thing but mark is relentless), for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), Mark is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

Mark wonders why you’re always making confessions, sometimes multiple times a week regardless of if his father is prepared or available to listen.

Once a week his father listens to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Mark himself is expected to do this. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he had been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Mark actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants. You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Mark’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, needing to confess so much. Did she hurt someone? Does she hurt herself? Did she kill someone or maybe she is caught up in a situation that makes her commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such a need to be cleansed and saved time and time again.

Mark makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth for the second time this week. Hushed whispers were echoing through the room and only then did he realize that you almost always confessed when the church is empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is that his father was silent from the moment you’d entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but the words were coming out in a tone that he had never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes passed and he still hadn't heard his father speak a word. It was just you, addressing dreams, vision, wants, and needs.

You weren’t confessing, you were actively sinning in the presence of god, attempting to seduce his father.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Mark notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“Aren’t you going to say anything? I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it was intentional, really, it wasn't. If anything at all, Mark is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Mark leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, the hard-on growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cut you off.

“Enough.” The priest says in a stoic and harsh tone.

Not another word was spoken and Mark does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Mark can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Mark is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounded when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

“You’re disgusting.” Mark narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you as if you were a piece of trash on the sidewalk.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly.

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your confessions?” He takes a step forward as he whisper shouts at you. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Mark to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum. “Wanna tell me why he always listens to my confessions then?” You question, smirking before walking away as if nothing had even happened.

Mark watches as you leave, upset that he hadn’t gotten a rise out of you at all, and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You weren’t even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your sweater and pull you back.

“You might as well not even wear clothes at this point with the way you act.” He barks, dragging you off down the hall and into a side room that should remain empty until everyone leaves the church. He intends to put a stop to this, because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a harlot.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you.

“Your father says otherwise.” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “What? You don’t find yourself thinking of dirty things from time to time?”

Mark narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Of course I do, but not this often, and not directly after a service.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument, because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than your priest.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches. “Father won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. What about you?”

Mark grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You cursed. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Mark bellowed, stepping back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed. You seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Mark realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, it would be the first day you weren’t heading for the confession booth. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Mark laughs, mocking your attempts to seduce his father.

“What about you though?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

Before you even knew it, you could feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you, he aggressively pulls your dress up to your waist and instantly he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs. A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh.

“I knew it.” You laugh bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movements. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses harshly against it. “I knew you were just as dirty as me.”

“Stop,” Mark demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself. “If we are going to do this, I need you to shut up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if it’s a threat that he will stop, a promise that he will get his father to blacklist you from the church and never allow such a sinner to step foot inside again.

Staying true to your word, you remain quiet as he trails his eyes down. He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monster, and for him at this moment, you definitely could be.

Lowering himself to the floor, he positions himself to look at your clothed core, seeing the small wet stain seeping through the fabric.

“Already?” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face.

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands back to his feet and backs away.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m going to give you my cock, don’t you?”

Shyly, you smile with a nod. Isn’t that what’s going to happen? Isn’t that what this is all about?

“Wow, you really are stupid.” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross.

Great, you think. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “I don’t need you to try and bring me to salvation.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He argues, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“What’s the cross for then?” You ask, a little nervous now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–” You swallow hard, realizing that the sins being committed aren’t just from you. They’re also not ignored by just you. This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“I am.” He assures you. “Do you want that?”

For some reason, despite genuinely worrying for your soul at the very idea, you nod quickly as the temperature of your body rises to dangerous levels.

“Get on the desk then.”

You follow suit, shamefully walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place.

You watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders and lift your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“You’re acting so shy now. What’s up with that?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “Keep those on. No one wants to see that.” He says, chuckling at the way you didn’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service. Lucky for him, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return.

You stay quiet, doing as he’s told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now, and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes. His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least.

“Suck it.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin.

You almost shake your head at him. Wouldn’t such a hard material such as wood hurt? Will it bruise your throat? Doesn’t seem to be a worry of his in all honesty, because he’s intent on pressing it against your lips.

Not quite opening your mouth, you look at him with wide eyes.

“No?” He smiles, hooking your mouth and prying it mouth open.

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just. . . haven’t done it before. You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Mark coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Just like that.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This, is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Mark continues to press the cross further and further into your mouth, watching the way you swallow around it and relax your throat as it slides more and more down your throat. He wonders what it would feel like if it were his cock, because you’re taking it so well. You must have done this before, with countless other men, he thinks. How lucky for them to have someone so desperately wanting to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He insults, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat the right way to elicit a gag out of you.

You cough around it, pushing his hand back so that he can pull the object from your mouth. The tears are prickling at the corners of your eyes as you look up at him, wondering if he’s going to pry your mouth open again but he doesn’t.

He tilts his head to look at your panties, seeing that the spot had gotten bigger.

“I can’t believe you actually like this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to hurt for some sort of friction. “Again?” He asks, and when you open your mouth again, he almost moans.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous at this moment over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? Just Mark, Right?

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that arouses him intensely. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse but he opts not to. Instead, he grabs your hand and places it against his cock.

Feeling a little shocked that he’s actually letting you touch him, you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against his hardened cock without any amount of shame, and you watch as he hangs his head for a moment.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as bruised at your throat.

His head shoots up in response to that and he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm.

Mark seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

You moan at that, grabbing his cock this time as your tongue fights against his fingers that are holding it down. Mark’s hips stutter at your grip and loses almost all composure when he dips down and moves his arms to either side of you, essentially pinning you there and pressing between your legs.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than the cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind against your hand as he continues to assault your tongue with his own, groaning into it more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes widen in shock.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants to fuck you in as many ways as possible. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah– I bet you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching a hand from between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you. “Go on, look.” He says, leaning up so that you can watch him jerk himself off in full view now. “You’d probably beg if I asked you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking with precum.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He laughs, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, picking the cross back up and looking at you with a smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right? You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like you’re body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown.

Watching as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy, he releases his cock and looks at you seriously this time.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” He laughs nervously, glancing at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

You shrug, looking back at him. “Who said I was going to tell him?”

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Mark, you’ve already fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, but. . . it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

“You don’t have to use the cross, you know.” You urge him in an attempt to use his cock, because it’s already sitting so heavy against you. It’s kind of all you can think about.

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “I’m taking these off of you now.” He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before anything, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Mark hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“Sinful.” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your entrance, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Mark watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls most uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. He does this until you finally moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Mark is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more.

“So sinful–” He coos this time, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it.

Fucking it back into you, he works his hand into the right rhythm and continuously thrusts the object in and out of you with a gentle, yet rough pace. Now, he makes a point to fuck his own fist at that same pace. Thrusting forward as the cross is buried deeper and deeper inside of you. If he thinks hard enough, it’s almost like he’s the one fucking you.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’s probably be rushing for the holy water to save you from whatever demon is possessing you. But he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pussy is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more. And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Fuck–” Mark stutters, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. It allows him to rest his arm as he continues to fuck into his other hand, still at the same pace as your hips.

He’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him, and he can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this for him. And then he loses it, and on the verge of his orgasm, he slips the cross out of you and lets it fall to the floor.

You can barely understand what’s happening until you feel something bigger slipping into you. When you feel his cock prying you open, pumping in and out of you at a frantic speed, you cling onto him with a bruising grip.

Mark practically falls over you, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly slides his cock in and out of you. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, slowing his pace so that he can gain a rhythm back and fuck into you in hard, long thrusts. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “I can’t resist.” He insults himself this time.

You can barely make a sound from the number of sensations you’d been feeling for the past however long. You want nothing more than for him to rub your clit, or for him to let you rub your clit. And as if your prayers were answered, he does just that.

You can feel him squeeze his hand between your bodies just to harshly press into your clit in a way that provides more pain than pleasure, but you’ll take whatever you can get while he uses you in the way you practically asked him to.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in his cock each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notices your climax.

Mark licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Coming on my cock like this?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different, in fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it. Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Mark stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Are you going to come inside of me?” You whisper with a shaking voice, “are you going to love it as much as I will?”

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants, thankful that you came around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor. He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes, narrowing his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Mark is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled on the floor, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore you must be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Did I hurt you?” He finally asks, walking up to you with a soothing hand that hands your dress out to you.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Mark seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you next Sunday?”

Mark dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to get out of this happening again.

#mark smut #[cnc]#[religion]#mark lee smut #nct smut #[tw]

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absurdthirst · 10 months

Text

Religious Corruption: The Path to Righteousness

Professor!Dave York x Virgin!F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.4k

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

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

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

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

|| MasterList || Religious Corruption MasterList ||

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes it does. Vibrates and moves.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” you say with a smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” He nods and grins at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

****

THE HOLIDAYS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Our’, you mouth silently against the belt. And then you’re letting go. Clamping down around him and coming this time with a loud scream of his name. The vibrations against your clit alongside him hammering into that spot inside you has you squirting around him for a second time. Covering his cock, balls and thighs with your arousal as you continue to softly pant his name throughout your high.

Dave groans, slowing down slightly to take a break while you float through the pleasure of your high. Panting as he rocks into you, he grins. “Still not done yet.”

“Mine,” you groan against the belt, as your hand comes up and softly strokes his face. You feel exhausted, the poundings your pussy has taken has you trembling beneath him but you’re ready for more, eager to feel him take you apart again.

He changes the rhythm, slowly grinding into you as he rests for a bit. Letting your body cool down.

“Wow,” you say, slightly murmured by the belt. Exhaustion sits heavily in your joints but you’re not ready for this to be over, you look up at him panting over you and move your face up to nuzzle against his. The closest thing you can currently get to a kiss.

He chuckles and leans in to kiss your nose. “Ready for a break?” He asks you softly.

You nod your head, needing a sip of water and to feel his lips on yours.

Dave is immediately moving. Pulling out of you and not bothering to turn off the cock ring before he is unbuckling the belt to pull it out of your mouth and massaging your cheeks. “Stay here. I’ll get you some water.” He tells you as he shuffles off the bed and finally stops the vibrations in the toy.

“Dave,” you call out as he shuffles away, “On the bookcase in the hall is your Christmas present… you haven’t opened it. Bring it up with you please.”

“I will.” He wonders why you are insistent that he bring it, but he snatches it up on his way back through from grabbing you water.

By the time he’s back up you’re sitting comfortably on the bed with your phone open and ready to play the video you took him. “I’ve been so distracted recently that I forgot to give it to you,” you say as you smile at the neatly wrapped package in his hand. “It’s one of two gifts, but you should open that one first. There’s a store by my parents house that makes these and I just felt like you’d appreciate it.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He has his own present for you, but that’s besides the point. “Your present is sitting in my closet.”

“You got me a present?” You say with a wide smile, “You didn’t have to do that.”

He lifts his brow at the irony of that statement, considering he is holding a gift from you in his hand. “Do you want me to open this first?”

“Yes and then I have something else for you,” you say excitedly. “I hope you like it.”

Dave hands you the water. “Drink.” He orders as he sits down beside you, his cock still hard and in the cock ring. Careful to unwrap the neat paper and he pauses when he discovers you’ve given him a leather bound journal, embossed with his name and a matching pen. “It’s- beautiful.” He can’t believe how thoughtful it is, and he swallows as he thinks of the other journal he has. His finger brushes over the gold leaf name. “Thank you.”

“You like it?” You say happily, as you watch him study it. “I figured you could keep it in your office and then you’ll think of me whenever you use it.”

“I will.” He looks up at you and nods, reaching out and pulling you in to crush his lips to yours.

You open your mouth and let him push his tongue between your lips, pushing yourself against him as he does so. Your hand wraps around his cock and you give him a few languid strokes, smiling as he groans into your mouth.

He kisses you for a long moment before he pushes your hand away from his cock and breaks the kiss. “So do you want to give me my other present or have yours?”

“You can give me mine,” you giggle, “I think you might be a little distracted by your next one.”

“Okay.” Dave leans in and kisses you again. “I love your gift. I hope you like what I got you.”

“It’s from you so I know I will,” you say, gently gripping onto each side of his jaw, and placing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.

He hums and stands, setting the journal and pen down before he walks into the closet and gets out a gift the size of a shoe box. Brightly wrapped and covered with a bow.

“Oh wow,” you say as you notice the box, “It looks so pretty, Dave.”

“I didn’t wrap it.” He snorts. “I can’t wrap for shit, so I paid to have it wrapped at one of those booths.” He’s a little nervous about this, because he hadn’t planned on getting it for you. He had planned on getting you something sexual. But as soon as he had seen it in the store window, he had to have it for you.

You smile at his admission, honestly not surprised he didn’t wrap it but still grateful for the effort he went to. You take it from his hands and notice how nervous he looks, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can I open it?”

“Sure.” He nods and watches as you carefully peel away the red and gold wrapping paper to reveal the box. Making him smirk slightly when you huff, having to use your nail to cut through the tape to open the lid.

“Oh Dave,” you say softly, looking up at him with wide glossy eyes.

“You told me once that you wanted to be a ballerina when you were a little girl.” He explains as you lift the elaborately carved music box from the one it was wrapped in. The line of ballerinas in different positions line the top of the brightly colored box. “How you would practice in your room in secret even if you had never taken a class. I thought you would like it, remember that no matter what, you can still dream.”

Words fail you. Your fingertips delicately dance over the ballerinas and it’s only when he gently wipes away a tear that you realize you’re crying. “Dave,” you sob gently, as you take in every little detail, “This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I can’t believe it’s mine.”

“It plays a little song.” He shows you the key in the back, twisting it a few times so that the music will start to play as he opens the lid. “Something sweet, like you.”

The tears start to fall harder as you listen to the stunning melody, watching the line of ballerinas move so delicately to the music. “I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much, my love.”

“It’s a jewelry box too.” He nudges you gently, bringing your attention to the small tray inside. He hears you say ‘my love’ but he can’t comment on that right now.

You look up at him through your teary eyes before looking back down and gently pulling open the tray. Gasping when you notice the gorgeous pearl bracelet inside of it. “Oh Dave.”

“Oh Dave.” He mimicked you and pucks the bracelet up to open the clasp to put it on your wrist. “I think there’s a parrot in here. That’s all I hear. ‘Oh Dave’.” He’s beaming as he teases you, completely joking and he looks up from wrapping it around your wrist to wink at you.

“Shut up,” you say with a giggle, “I love it,” you focus on the bracelet, beaming as you notice the tiny engraved ‘D’ on the clasp. “D?”You say out loud with an even bigger smile forming across your face. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” You take his face in your hands and move close enough to brush your lips against his as you speak, “I really love it, all of it, and you.”

He hums and pours himself into kissing you. He can’t tell you that. He can’t do that to you. Especially when his own feelings are so fucking out of the norm for him. “Good.” He manages after pulling his lips away from yours.

“You gonna finish fucking me once we move this off the bed?” You say, still gently holding onto his face.

“Of course I am.” Dave scoffs, smirking at you. “You can still walk, can’t you?”

“Just about,” you say, rolling your eyes as you get up and place the jewelry box down on his drawers and take a few more seconds admiring it. You kneel down on the bed next to him and give him a quick kiss, “Second present first.” You pass him the phone which is already opened to the video and wait for him to press play. “Tried to send you this on Christmas day but had no wi-fi.”

“Ohhh I get another present.” He smirks as he presses play and immediately groans when the video starts to move. “Jesus Christ. You filmed this at your parents?”

“Yeah,” you say with a giggle, “Dad had another service and I decided to stay behind… I was really missing you.”

“Fuck, baby girl.” He grunts, cock twitching as he watches it again.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you say as you wrap your fingers around his cock again. Moaning as you see the build up of pre-cum and how purple the tip of him is. “Oh, my love, we’ve got to make you cum.”

Dave tosses the phone down and lurches for you. “Spread your legs.”

You squeal with excitement before spreading your legs. “Yes, sir!”

He thrusts back into you easily, frantically. Determined to make sure that you can’t walk when he’s done with you.

“Fuck,” you scream as he fills you with him. Your walls immediately fluttering around him as he starts to pound in and out, focusing on that spot inside of you. Your hands squeeze your tits as he grips on to your hips pulling you down to meet every harsh snap of hips.

This time, his goal isn’t to overwhelm you, just show you how he feels without saying the words.

You reach up and touch his face, whimpering his name as he thrusts in and out, “Kiss me.”

He lunges down and presses his lips to yours desperately. Groaning as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

You press your tongue against his and they battle for dominance but you both know he’s in control the entire time, taking the breath out of your lungs and replacing it with his own as the kiss turns more frantic.

Dave groans and keeps his hips rocking as he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and pressing close.

Your hold on him tightens as he pulls you closer, you reluctantly detach your lips from his and giggle at the way he immediately growls at the loss, “Slower Dave, let me feel all of you,” you beg.

He huffs and shakes his head, but he stops the frantic thrusts and slowly rolls his hips forward.

“Grumpy,” you murmur into his soft skin with a smile, meaning his name as he notches into that spot inside of you. Your eyes rolling back and stars appearing in your line of vision.

He hums and bites down on your chin. “Yes.” He grunts with every slow thrust. “I. Am.”

“But I like it,” you say, between breathy moans.

“I know you do.” He groans, pressing his lips to yours again. Kissing you softly as his hips slow down even more.

Your fingernails dig into his shoulders, as he brings you closer to that edge, “I’m gonna cum,” you babble against his lips.

“Good.” He groans, flicking his tongue into your mouth to kiss you.

With a few more measured thrusts he has you falling off that edge, clamping down hard around him and whimpering into his mouth.

Dave finally feels like he can cum. Pushing through the tightness, to thrust deep. His neck muscles strain and he practically whimpers your name as he starts to cum.

“Dave,” you murmur as thick ropes start to paint your walls, his name lingering on your lips as you bite down onto his shoulders.

He lets you mark him, not jerking away as he rides out his high and groaning at how good it feels.

"Mine," you growl aggressively as you pull him closer to you, fingernails gripping into the meat of his ass as he thrusts into you.

Finally, he's spent, lowering himself down against you, though he keeps the majority of his weight on his elbows as he relaxes. "Fuck."

You giggle as he collapses on top of you, "Ready to go again, my love?"

"Jesus." He huffs. "I need a minute. Insatiable minx."

"I'm just kidding old man," you say as you wrap your arms tightly around him.

"Sure you were." He huffs, turning to kissing you softly and sighs.

"Are you ok?" You ask, hearing him sigh.

"'I am good." He promises, unable to put anything into words "How are you?"

"Are you sure?" You ignore his question, and raise your eyebrow. "Did I do something wrong?"

He frowns and shakes his head. "You didn't do anything wrong." He promises and kisses you once more. "You want to soak in a bath?" He asks

"Depends," you say, snuggling into him, "Are you going to join me?"

"I need to do something in my office." He admits quietly. "Do you want me to draw you a bath?"

"Sure," you say, a little confused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good." He flashes you a grin. "Must be getting old." He jokes. "Becoming that old man you are always accusing me of being."

"I love that old man," you say, the words sliding off your tongue before you have time to restrain them.

Dave frowns slightly but he leans forward to kiss you instead of commenting on it. "I'll go start your bath."

You see it, the way the corner of his lips fall down and it's like a shot to the chest but you refuse to ruin the moment by crying. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby girl." He's retreating and he knows he is, but he can't tell you something that he's not one hundred percent sure of. Still trying to tell himself that he's still the same, just using you for your innocence. He pulls out of you and climbs out of the bed, removing the cock ring as he disappears into the bathroom.

You bite down the tears threatening to fall and brush yourself off. Standing up and wrapping yourself in one of his shirts and perching yourself at the end of the bed, waiting for him to come out and tell you your bath is ready.

Inside the bathroom, Dave ignores his reflection and the things that are yours and turns towards the garden tub to turn on the water, adding the bubble bath you enjoy.

You listen to him move around and to the sound of the water filling the tub before deciding to just step into the bathroom, hoping that maybe that'll change his mind and he'll join you.

Dave is setting out your towel when you come into the bathroom. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you say softly, before dipping your fingertips into the tub to test the temperature, "Perfect."

"Good." He watches as you step into the tub. "You enjoy your bath, l'll bring you up a drink."

"You sure you don't want to join me," you say, as you sink down into the inviting waters. "Promise I'll give you a break. I just want to feel you.”

"Give me a few minutes." He gives in and nods. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," you say with a smile and a scrunch of your

nose.

"I know you will, you would live in that tub if I let you." Dave snorts and smirks at you in your bubbles.

"Hurry," you say, with a roll of your eyes, "It's lonely in here."

"Yep!" He raps the door frame with his knuckles. "Back in a sec."

You lay back against the tub, thinking through the last few minutes and wondering if you've really fucked this up. You look down at the bracelet still on your wrist and closely examine the 'D' on the clasp and sigh.

Downstairs, Dave hesitates at the bottom and rubs his hand down his face. This is getting too complicated, something he's never liked. He's already spent more time with you than he had with any other girl. Ignoring the urge to go back and read his journal, he walks into the kitchen to get you a drink.

The way he reacted to your slip up still has your heart aching, you know what this is, you know that this isn't love to him. He's never said or promised you anything along those lines and the look on his face spoke louder than any words

Instead of just grabbing a bottle of water, he opens up the bottle of wine he had bought you. It's a sweet wine, one you had tasted and said you liked. He knows your parents don't approve of you drinking anything but the sacrament wine, but this is another layer to his debauchery. Or that's what he tells himself rather than it being a cozy, romantic bath with a glass of wine.

Sinking below the water you don't hear him creep in, having dived underwater to disguise the tears that had welled up your eyes.

Dave sets the wine glass down, along with a bottle of beer he prefers and even though he's rolling his eyes, he has picked up the little pre-made meat, cheese and cracker tray. Deciding that the bath was the perfect place to indulge in a restorative snack.

You slowly push yourself up from under the water and see him perched by the bath holding a glass of wine for you. "Hey," you say softly. "Are you getting in?"

"Yeah." He grabs another towel and sets it next to yours. "I got us a drink and that snack thingy you wanted when you came back."

"Thank you." You take the glass of wine and shift down the bath slightly so he can slip in behind you.

Dave settles back against the tub and pulls you into his arms. "Lean back." He murmurs, even though he would normally tell you to lean back so he could play with your tits.

You do as he says exhaling happily as you lie against his chest. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," you say, your teeth immediately sinking into your bottom lip to stop the flow of tears threatening to spill. "It just slipped out."

"Don't." His clipped word hangs in the air for a moment. "Don't apologize." He manages. "It's okay."

"Okay," you say, barely above a whisper. You take a few sips of your wine and nibble on a cracker, still comfortably laying against him. "I promise I won't do it again, I don't want to upset or anger you.”

Dave doesn't say anything, doesn't know what to say. Instead he takes a sip of his beer and slowly starts to rub one of your nipples.

You place your hand on the top of his and just hold it still before picking it up and interlocking your fingers with his.

He doesn't pull his hand away, just letting your hands naturally fall and hold together over your stomach.

"I really don't want to go this evening," you say with a sigh.

"You need to." Dave reminds you, "You know you will be missed, again."

"Yeah." You say weakly, before closing your eyes and nuzzling back into him.

"Yeah, you'll go?" Dave asks. "Or yeah, I'm still not going?"

"Yeah, I'll go," you shrug, "Who doesn't love sitting in a room listening to a man drone on for hours and trying to work out which one of the guys there is the one who my parents have decided I'm going to marry."

"They wouldn't have picked yet." Dave huffs. "They are bluffing."

"Not according to my mom," you snort.

"Your father is going to wait until grades come out before he decides on anyone." He wagers.

"You're wrong," you say, visibly annoyed. "They told me they've found someone. They've had conversations with him, his parents and grandparents. I am the only person that doesn't know who it is."

"So just say no." Dave snaps back at you. "You're an adult, you don't have to do what mommy and daddy want."

"Fuck you," you shoot back, "You have no idea." You grip onto the side of the tub and begin to lift yourself up.

"I have no idea?" He snorts. "You have no idea, no intention of standing up for yourself." Maybe you will do the work for him. Decide you are done and break things off so he doesn't have to think about how he can't end things with you.

You wrap the towel around yourself and just storm into the bedroom, feeling the tears you've been trying to hold back beginning to fall. He's right. You have no idea on how to stand up to your parents.

Dave sighs as you drip water all over the floor, the bath ruined. Feeling like the day has been ruined. Standing, he unstops the tub and starts cleaning it out, giving you space you want.

You perch yourself on your side of the bed, still only covered by your towel and let yourself cry. He will be out any second and you have no doubt he'll be sending you on your way.

Cleaning up the tub, he gathers up the tray of snacks, your wine and his beer to carry back into the bedroom. His own towel wrapped around his waist, he sees you crying and hates it.

You don't look at him as he enters the room, instead you just wipe your eyes and then stare down at the hand in your lap.

"I know it's hard for you." Dave murmurs after a few moments of chilly silence. "I just want you to stick up for yourself."

"It's easier said than done," you reply quietly, wiping away a fresh stream of tears.

"I know it is." He reminds himself that you are still very sheltered and innocent. "You will find the courage eventually." He predicts.

****

THE AFTERMATH.

It had been a whirlwind of a week, you had officially left St. Brennans and with Dave's support enrolled to start online classes in the upcoming fall.

He hadn't hesitated in asking you if you wanted to move in after the fight with your parents and the day after you cleaned out the rest of your things from your dorm and started to move them into your new home.

And now it's been a week, a week of hurtful voicemails and texts about how much of a disappointment you are and now your parents are standing at the doorstep of your home pleading for you to talk to them for just five minutes.

Dave slams the door in their face and turns towards you, a fierce frown on his face. "You don't have to talk to them, baby." He promises, reaching out to cup your cheek. "I'll call the police if I have to."

"It's okay, baby," you say, before pressing your lips to his. "I want to show them that they haven't hurt me." You take a deep inhale and open the door. "You have five minutes."

Your hand is being tightly held by Dave as they walk past you both and towards the kitchen.

Dave grunts unhappily as he follows them with you. "You will not yell at her, and you will not call her names." He lays down his rules immediately, giving them no chance to start. "Otherwise you leave immediately." He's not going to put up with your parents abusing you. Not in his house. If he had his way, they wouldn't speak to you ever again, but he won't make that decision for you.

They remain silent at his demands and that's when you catch her. She walks over to the chair, your chair, that Dave had bought you and begins to run her fingers across the soft fabric.

"You can't sit there," you say, immediately finding your voice as she tries to claim yet another thing from you.

The sound of your mother scoffing fills the room, yet she doesn't move. She just keeps admiring your chair and ignoring your requests to sit at the table. You see Dave's chest beginning to move more rapidly as she blatantly ignores you and before he has time to explode you take a step forward.

"Dave bought me that chair because I fell in love with it, it's mine and I'm asking you to stop and step away from it," you say, raising your voice just slightly.

"I am your mother and I will sit where I please," is all she responds and before you have time to realize what you're saying the words are floating in the air.

"If you knew the things he's done to me in that chair, you wouldn't want to be anywhere near it.

He actually hasn't done anything to you in that chair, but it's amusing how quickly your mother snatches her hand away from your chair and manages to look like someone rubbed dog shit right underneath her nose. It would be funny if it wasn’t so damn sad. "Sit down at the table." He orders both of them.

They both look at each other with disgust before sitting down, "We told Joshua's family that you have an appendicitis that burst," your father says plainly. "As far as he's aware this never happened and you can move on and marry him and we can put this whole charade behind us all."

"I'm marrying Dave, and I left a note in my dorm with the ring." You are absolutely gobsmacked at what your father is saying to you.

"The nice girl," your mom interrupts, "Deandra, she found the note and the ring and gave it to us. Joshua knows nothing. You are not marrying this man."

"That's not up to you to decide." There's a new ring that will be sitting on your finger now. He had taken you to pick it out, deciding that you deserved to have the choice, although he had argued that the stone should be bigger. He had won that one. The ring should be ready to pick up sometime this coming week and he wants to see how it looks, all fitted properly.

Dave doesn't offer coffee or tea. He doesn't give a damn if they are comfortable or think that he's a good host.

"I am marrying Dave, I've officially left St. Brennans and I live here now... Can you just wait here for a moment? I want to show you something." You say before scurrying up stairs running as quickly as you can and collecting something from yours and Dave's bedroom.

You're clutching it in your arms as you sit down and you place it gently on the table, opening the box and twisting the little knob at the back. Your parents say nothing as the jewelry box springs to life and the row of ballerinas begin to move delicately.

"He saw this and he thought of me," you say, "Dave loves me. I love Dave. And I won't become bitter and twisted because I'm being forced to marry a man I don't love."

"He is too old for you." Your father scoffs. "We know what he is, what he does. He preyed on your weakness, your sinfulness." He pontificates, shaking his head. "You should be on your knees, begging God and us for forgiveness."

Dave reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and he pulls your hand up to kiss the back of it softly. He loves that you love that box.

"You should be begging ME for forgiveness," you yell across the table, "I am your daughter and I've spent the majority of my life feeling like an inconvenience because neither of you are capable of love." You shake your head scoff before resuming your rant, "How dare you come into our house and speak about him like that? What about what you do and what you've done? What about all the times you left me alone in that house fucking terrified because you didn't want to deal with the responsibility of having a child? I would never do to a child what you did to me.”

"You were never in danger." Your mother huffs. "We were doing important work. Serving God, as you need reminding to do." The righteous sense of self importance drips off of every word.

"I was a child alone in a house." You scoff. "I was like 5 when you started leaving me. I was terrified. All of my childhood memories feel like weapons. Fully loaded and ready to strike me down." You feel an anger burn in your chest like never before, "I'm done. I don't have any interest in seeing either of you ever again.

There's a moment when you look like you are going to cave just as soon as the indignant squawking starts but Dave simply stands up and pulls you into his arms. "Please leave."

He makes sure he keeps his first ask polite so if this blows up, he can say he asked them to leave. "You are not allowed to hurt her anymore. She doesn't want to talk to you, so please leave.”

"Don't come back," is all you add. Resting your head against Dave's shoulder as you watch them get up to leave.

"He's going to wake up sooner than you're expecting and realize that you're not worth his time," your mother says, "You'll have nowhere to go. No one to turn to. You'll have nothing. Just like you deserve."

"She will have me." Dave snorts. "I am not going to abandon her. I'm giving her the freedom of choice, which was all she ever wanted. I love her, more than you could ever comprehend. And when we do have kids, they will never grow up like she did."

His hold on you tightens as you look up at him and smile, before turning back to them, "Leave. Now."

They obviously don't want to, protesting and Dave just shakes his head. "She told you to leave."

"Do you really want to make this more difficult?" you say with a roll of your eyes, "Do you think an arrest is going to look good for you both?"

He smirks at the shocked expression on their faces that you would threaten such a thing. They have probably never imagined their daughter standing up to them. "Fine." Your father spits, glaring at the two of you like you are possessed. "Don't bother calling us when he leaves you pregnant and broke."

"I'll get a good divorce lawyer," you mock, as they scramble out the door.

As the door is yanked open, Dave busts out laughing at your comment.

You listen for the door to slam shut before spinning around and wrapping your arms around Dave. "You still haven't fucked me in that chair, you know?"

"I know." He hums, holding you tighter and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's your chair." He reminds you, rubbing your back proudly. "I love you, baby. Don't let them make you doubt that."

"Still get chills every time you say that to me," you admit, "I love you more. They have no influence on me whatsoever."

"I think we should move." Dave admits, wondering what you would think about that. "I've been talking to another college, a beach town." He figured that your parents wouldn't go to the school, and they hadn't, but he had been thinking about a fresh start for both of you.

"As long as I can bring my beautiful chair, l will follow you anywhere. Say it again."

He smirks and leans in to kiss your lips. "I love you, baby." He whispers. "Forever."

#pedro pascal #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york smut #dave york equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #dave york x f!reader #professor!dave york #religious corruption

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

Note

Hello (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can I request self aware au with a player that has a photographic memory basically remembering anything such as what was in their friends meal last month so when a character says " oh I hate this and that" player just goes " oh I know you mentioned that a few months ago " character is just somewhat shocked cause that was just something they mentioned in passing and so they start thinking they must be worth something to their grace if they can remember such small details about them ! But then they realize they are not the only person their grace has blessed with a small amount of their memory and somehow everywhere they look its all red

With Lilia, malleus, and jade

I'm sorry if I'm being too specific ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Thank you and have a great week (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, death, religion, blood, obsession, possessiveness

Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player who has a photographic memory

With a dorm leader like Azul having this kind of memory would be like living the dream

Never forgetting something the businessman said, not having to worry too much about forgetting something.... you get what I mean, right?

But I also don't think that he would be too surprised if he found out you have that kind of memory

After all, some places see you even as a God so he was ready for everything when you appeared in their world

But here we are, Jade having tears in his eyes whilst you hold out a very hard to come by mushroom

This is one of the few moments the eel would be lost for words

“Wh-Ho-What?” “You mentioned you had never seen it and wanted to.” “O-oh... really”

Now, don't mistake this for him not being thankful but this is the first time someone has ever remembered such a minor detail about him that he mentioned once

And that one time he was frustrated about that customer and mumbled “God I wish I could @$&%+# them” to himself thinking that no one was listening to you said months later “Yeah, they made you pretty angry back then”

This hat stand is impressed, ok?

Now imagine, this danger noodle overhears a conversation between you and another student, you also mentioned a detail they said months ago

As I said, he went full “I expect everything from you” since the beginning

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt

So what does he do? Let you spend time with your other friends? Making even more fond memories with them?

Haha good joke, good joke but no. You know, I saw you spending an awful lot of time with Jade these few weeks. What about the other? Ok...

If he folks your memory only with moments he is present that would also mean that he is always present in some way in your life, even when he is not there. Oh that one time that Heartslabyul student got close to you and the next day he brewed something with that poisonous mushroom, that student never seen again alive? What a funny coincidence. Don't think too much about it.

Here we have a fire spitting lizard who has been raised upon the logic that you, yes you, are a God

So what higer honor is there than to be remembered by your grace?

And since we are not on Twitch I can say this here: SIMP

So, it was a sunny day, the birds were chirping and a certain future ruler is screaming into his pillow

Oh why that last part? Well you just told him that you always listened to him when he was going on and on about gargoyles and even listed a huge chunk of facts

This is his living dream! The Overseer is thinking high enough about him to remember details that he mentioned

Sebek always talking about him isn’t helping either

Now you are a walking encyclopedia about our dear Fae over here

And believe me, that is not the best thing considering that our fellow immortal over there already has an inflated, although pretty unnoticed, ego

And now he finds out that he is not special to you, that you remember so much about everyone

He should have known better, should have expected that such a higher being like you would not see anybody in a special light

But then, why does it hurt so much?

Why does it feel like he wants everybody to disappears so that only he can leave an impression on your memories?

Now, of course he isn’t allowed to do that, and you would hate him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t limit your contact to the outside world

Don’t worry about getting sleepy all of sudden

He just wants you only to have memories of him and what better way to make sure no one interferes than making your dream of only him?

Now what could go wrong with such a fine general who is so kind to worship you to bits?

Actually, a lot

Lilia thinks, if we are being honest, very highly of himself, having aged like fine wine and all of that

But even fine wine isn't always to everyone's taste (and I think that this one is one of those)

So here we are, giving our most favorite Fae version of pressed aged grape juice a game he has been thinking of getting

The fact that you bought the limited edition doesn't make it any better

You see, Lilia would even worship the ground you walk on even if you were to hate him with a passion that rivals thousands of suns

And now you are even remembering he once mumbled whilst passing by

“Oh Overseer! This humble servant of yours is always at your service, with or without a present from you!” “Ok Lilia... you can stand up now...”

But let's not dwell too long on the happy parts of this (this is a yandere au after all)

One day he was just walking down the Hallway, his day being wonderful...

And then he choose war

Why? Well he noticed that you remembered exactly as much about the others when you said to an Octavinelle student that they mentioned that months ago, a privilege he thought only he had

Will he rip them in two in front of your eyes? No

He isn't uncultured and leads you out of the room, then the ripping can start

And boy must he be having fun because all you hear is his laughter

After that it's safe to say that no one other than him and his little family approach you

So why not make fond memories with them? And only them. Wouldn't want to make Lilia being a bit too much like his younger self again, right?

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

Text

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 7 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: so much where do I start, Smut (18+), tail fucking, fingering, oral sex, come drunkness, an attempt at penetrative sex which stops due to pain, restraints, a little display of tail choking, jealousy, thigh fucking.

Happy New Year babes!

Two men sit, facing each other angrily. One has devoted himself to his religion, prides himself on the strength of his morality, the other, has killed more people than this church can hold.

"I could kill you right now without batting an eye." Billy says easily from his spot beside you.

"He's not going to kill you, I promise." You speak up, trying to deescalate the tension in the room.

Matt turns his head to face you, giving you a sweet smile which you can't help but return even if he can't see it.

"We just want some answers." You say, trying to keep your tone nice and soft and airy enough to keep the peace.

"Ask away." Matt permits.

"How'd you lose your eyesight?" Billy asks invasively.

"Billy!"

Matt grins.

"It's fine. I was in an accident when I was a kid, some really toxic chemicals got into my eyes. I'm not totally blind though, I do have partial eyesight... but it's just mostly shapes."

"Oh, I'm sorry." You say, sympathising with such a traumatic event.

"It's really okay, losing my sight sharpened my other senses and helped me develop a sixth." Matt turns his head to Billy, the smile dropping from his face, "I bet that answers your next question."

Billy rolls his eyes.

You try not to laugh at both men clearly despising each other.

Matt had initially been skeptical about speaking with Billy in the first place. But after pleading with him, he'd allowed you both the opportunity to ask questions in his office, pertaining to his ability to recognise you.

You saw Matt as an asset, possibly even a friend, Billy saw him as a stain, to be wiped out.

"Mistress," Billy says to you, "It would take me a minute to make his death look like an accident."

"No, Billy." You emphasise.

Matt gives Billy a smug smile.

"Down boy." He taunts.

Billy's out of his chair almost immediately, striding angrily to Matt, sitting on the other side of his desk.

You move too, sliding between the desk and your angry demon, a calming hand on his chest.

"Hey," you whisper to him, and his red eyes meet yours, "Please? We just need some answers and we'll be done soon."

Billy takes a deep breath, eyes reverting to brown, he nods before taking a step back.

You turn to Matt a little angry at his disrespect.

"He doesn't have to be bound to me. He could kill me just to get to you."

At the same time, both men speak.

"He wouldn't do that."

"I would never do that."

You swallow, glancing back at Billy, a little perplexed by his overall reaction to Matt. Why did this one priest make him so angry?

You turn to Matt next.

"How do you know that?" You ask softly.

Matt takes a moment, before extending his hand to you, palm up for you to take.

You hear Billy let out some type of low growl as you place your gand in Matt's, but you're unable to pay him any mind, too focused on what Matt could possibly be sensing. Something deep inside you calls out to let him go, to step back and spit in his face and you frown at the irrational thoughts.

"Whatever chance Billy had to get rid of you is long gone. There's so much of his energy wrapped around you that killing you would kill a part of him."

Your lips part in shock.

"What? How?" You ask.

"The longer you stayed bonded, the stronger the bond grew. It would have cost him nothing to kill you when you first met? Now? It'll take a part of him too." Matt explains.

You turn to look at Billy, his eyes are on the floor, doesn't meet yours at all.

He knew, and he still kept you alive.

"What if I die?" You whisper, and you feel a sharp pain move through the space between your lungs at the thought.

"Depending on how strong the bond gets, it could kill him too."

The thought squeezes your throat till you can't breathe, and still Billy won't meet your eyes.

"It's unbreakable right?"

"Yes... but... distance and time apart can weaken it some."

To Billy, you whisper softly.

"When I'm close to death we can try that? So part of you won't have to die with me."

Those words finally make him look up angrily, with irises turning red.

"You expect me to leave you before you die? I don't care if part of me dies with you, I'm not leaving your side."

You open your mouth to protest and he shakes his head.

"Even if I could, it would put us both in an unquantifiable amount of pain to be apart."

You close your mouth, turning back to Matt.

"Is that it?" You ask softly.

"I can also sense that he wants to corrupt you."

You swallow at the thought.

"What demon doesn't?" You ask rhetorically, and instead of waiting for Matt to release your hand, you pull it away.

You sigh, rubbing where Matt was touching to wash away the sensation of his hold, you avoid Billy's gaze.

"Thanks, Matt." You say, appreciating the difficulty of the situation you'd put him in.

"Anytime... and you can always come to me if you need help." You turn to look at him, "You... not him." He emphasises.

"I understand," you say with a smile, bidding him goodbye as you exit his office with your demon trailing behind.

There's something of a tense silence between you, something you hate because it makes everything feel awkward between you and you didn't like it one bit.

"Mistress." Billy finally calls.

You pause, looking back at him in the church aisle.

"I'm sorry." he finally says.

"For?"

"This entire thing. I'm sorry it happened."

You swallow, nodding.

"I'm sorry too." You supply.

The corner of his mouth twitches, his hands are deep in his pockets and his shoulders are hunched and you think this is the first time he's let himself be this vulnerable.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" He asks in amusement.

"Everything," You answer, "We've just been dealt really shitty hands by the universe and I'm sorry for that."

He smiles sadly, stepping forward, he wraps his arms around you. You eagerly return the hug.

"It's less shitty with you." He finally whispers into your hair. Your arms squeeze him tighter in agreement.

~~~

"Maybe I was jealous." Billy murmurs, opening one of the kitchen cupboards to peer inside.

You pause your examination of the countertops.

You'd been searching for a new apartment ever since you found out that the people that had tried to kill you knew where you lived. In true Billy style, he'd narrowed the search down to some very upscale apartments that he felt were the safest, and now you just had to pick one from his carefully curated list.

"Jealous? Billy... there's no need to be jealous of Matt. It's not like- I mean- I doubt I'm even his type." You say, crossing your arms to look at him. The conversation you were having right now had come up after he'd made a displeased comment that this apartment was only a couple of blocks away from Matt's church... to Billy's dismay.

He closes the cupboard door to look at you.

"Explain."

You make an exasperated sound at the back of your throat.

"Circumstances aside, he'd never go for me anyway, I doubt I'm the type he goes for." After a few seconds of contemplation, you speak again, "Hell, I doubt I'm the type you'd go for."

"And what does that mean?"

You throw your arms up in exasperation.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm weird and awkward and... and ugly!" You heave in air, turning away from him.

"Wanna know why I'm a girl well into my twenties and still a virgin? Well it's cause no one I like wants to fuck me. Obviously."

Before he can say anything, the realtor, who'd been in the other room taking a call, steps in.

"How is everything going? Are we feeling good about this one?" She asks with a voice that's way too excited for the embarrassed way you feel.

"Alice." Billy says her name, in a calm way and you keep your eyes fixed on the floor length windows.

"Um, yes?" She responds.

" I'll give you double if you give me the keys right now and go home."

You swallow, finally turning to look at him in surprise.

Alice, who's brain has just caught up to the profit she stands to gain from accepting, speaks up.

"Consider it done, I'll be back tomorrow with contracts and payment plans drawn up." She pulls the key from her pocket and hands it over to him.

"Sounds great. Have a nice day." Billy says, accepting the keys.

Alice pauses for a second, before nodding her head and grabbing her purse to walk out the door.

You have so many questions coming to mind as you hear the door shut. There was no way that renting or buying such a high end apartment had been so easy. No way.

But while you had been waiting to speak, Billy had had a lot more in mind. He's striding up to you angrily as the front door shuts.

His body against yours, you gasp as he grips your shoulder tightly to keep you from backing away from him, not that you could as he traps your body between his and the kitchen counter.

"Let's get one thing clear," he murmurs angrily, his eyes going red swiftly, his tail wrapping around your hips to press your body tightly to his.

"I have yearned to fuck you from the minute I laid my eyes on you." He says hotly, and you can't help swallowing as pure, unadulterated heat flushes through your body.

"Every night, I think about being inside you, when you're fast asleep beside me, curled into me, dreaming your pretty little dreams," His lips graze the shell of your ear, "I think about how badly I want you, how much I need every clench of your cunt, every drop of your wetness, to be because of me."

You're not sure you're breathing anymore.

"And I know how irrational that is. Not even you have control over who you get wet for, and yet I ache for it anyway."

You breathe a sigh of his name, aroused right now because of his words.

"Be realistic," you try to protest, "You would have never even looked my way if we weren't bonded." The truth of the words almost choke you, you can hardly meet his eyes.

Billy lets out a rough sound of frustration. He presses further against you, burying his face snugly against your neck, holding you as tight as possible to his body as he can. He dwarfs you in size, his large frame enveloping yours easily.

"You're wrong," You gasp in surprise as his fingers find the button of your jeans, undoing them easily and pushing them down your thighs, "You're so wrong."

He strips your bottom half, and you don't even think to deny him, your body's memory of the pleasure he can give is too potent for resistance.

You shiver with delight when he lifts you, sitting you on the edge of the countertop and spreading your legs.

Once again, he looks between your open thighs for a long time before he licks his lips, a hot, languid feeling spreading through you like molten lava.

"I can't remember the last time I wanted something as bad as I want you." Billy whispers finally, before he drops his head to seal his lips around your clit.

You moan in surprise and delight.

You can barely hold your body up as you feel his tongue begin to work over you.

A blissful moan leaves your mouth at the eager way he licks over you. Your nails scratch at the countertops, willing some level of destruction onto the cold marble, trying to unravel something the way he unravels you.

You swear, and you plead, and you don't even understand what you're asking for because he's already giving it to you.

The worst thing is that he moans, enjoying the way you taste, and the way he makes you feel. Briefly, your brain reminds you that he can feel this, he can feel the pleasure swimming in your veins, and he knows exactly what he's doing to you and it makes you almost feral to be as close to him as physically possible.

It's almost too much for your body to handle. The way you feel for him, and the pleasure he wrings from you and the sensastion of his rough, slippery tongue exploring every inch of your most sensitive parts like he owns you wholly and your pleasure is his and only his to do with it whatever he pleases and the pressure builds in your head and it builds and builds and spills from your mouth and curls your toes and still it's all Billy and the power he wields over you.

Your entire body shakes when your orgasm hits. With the force of a tsunami, the brilliance of lightning coursing through your veins, aftershocks that don't slow down until he manages to pull his tongue away from your dripping center.

You gasp, heaving in air, unable to focus, or think with that much bliss drunkening your every nerve.

He leans up, an insistent hand cupping the back of your neck so that he can push the taste of your release into your own mouth. Like a doll, you accept it, limbs too pliant to stop him, mind too hazy to even consider denial.

You hum against his lips, eager for anything he has to give you.

"So," he whispers softly, his tail trailing over your thigh, "I don't wanna hear you say a bad thing about yourself ever again. Understood?"

You pout.

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Dont give me that. Be a good mistress and do as I say."

"But I'm the one in charge," you whisper hoarsely, "you need to do what I say."

Something dangerous sparks in his eyes.

"Really?" He challenges, and the next thing you know he's lifting you off the counter, grinning at your sound of surprise.

You curl against him, content with wherever he's taking you.

"You're my demon," you murmur cheekily, "not the other way around."

"Am I?" he inquires, dropping you onto the soft black leather couches of the living room.

"Mhmmm." You hum an affirmative, letting him turn your body however he likes, until you're almost bent over the back of the couch, facing the magnificent floor length windows that overlook the city.

You gasp in surprise when he tears your shirt in two, tugging your bra off as well, until you're naked and dishevelled before him.

You don't get a chance to turn and look at him, before you feel his front cover your back, skin on skin, telling you that he's shed his clothes as well.

His tail wraps around your midsection, you hum in appreciation at his gentle caresses.

You gasp when you feel him spread your thighs, and you tense when he manages to slip his cock between them.

He lets out a blissful sigh of relief, one that goes right to your head and sinks down to your core. You can feel his cock, using your arousal as a lubricant to slide between your thighs. The head of his cock even reaches so far that it bumps your clit, and you find yourself fisting the soft leather of the couch.

His hands on your hips, his stature behind you is large and imposing, trapping you against the couch so that he can fuck your thighs however he pleases.

"I think about fucking you like this all the time." He whispers in your ear, and your eyes flutter shut, clenching as his cock slides along the outside of your cunt.

"I could do anything I want to you right now," To prove his point, he pulls his tail away from your midsection, and wraps it around your neck. You open your eyes in surprise, titling your head up to look at him when he pulls your back flush against his chest.

You let out a small cry when his fingertips meet your stiff nipples, aching for his attention.

"So while you may be my mistress," he bends his head till his lips meet your ear, "Don't forget who's in charge."

When you orgasm this time, it's completely unintentional. His words are directly responsible, and you whimper and cry as wave after wave of bliss overtakes you, more of your arousal soaking his cock.

When you can breathe without being overwhelmed with pleasure, emarrassment overtakes you.

"S-sorry." you murmur.

Billy grabs your jaw, keeping you face turned towards him so that he can lay a harsh kiss on your lips.

"For. Fucking. What? Being so sensitive for me that your pretty body can't handle it? Making me fucking ache to be inside you so bad?"

Your stomach tingles at his words, he presses his forehead to yours. Your eyes are closed, you reach for him in your head, surprised to feel your warm affection returned.

"I can't believe I have this much self control. I want you so bad I can't stop thinking about it. But I know you're not ready, and I'm not trying to force you. I'm happy with whatever you want to give me, and I'd love to be your first if you'd have me. I've thought about that too."

You're not even sure that he's still talking to you, and not just rambling thoughts that spring to mind.

"You have?" you ask, hoping not to break him from whatever trance he was in.

"Of course I have, of course. It wouldn't be like this," He murmurs, most likely indicating to the position he currently had you in, pressed between the couch and his body, your back to his warm front.

"What would it be like?" You ask, "Show me."

He pulls his forehead away from yours, blinking down at you.

"What?"

"Show me... how you'd take me the first time."

He shudders out a breath.

"Sure?" he asks.

"Yes." You confirm.

"Well it wouldn't be here." He says with determination in his voice, leaning away to turn you around, wrapping your legs around his hips, his hands sliding under your behind before he picks you up. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold on, pressing your head to his collarbone with a little giggle of surprise.

"I'd do it on a bed, so that you're relaxed and comfortable and open for me."

He walks you into the bedroom, that you didn't have a chance to look at before he'd decided to take the apartment.

It's beautiful, with black walls and dark bedsheets and blackout curtains that satisfy a hidden craving within you. The only lighting is below the bed, and behind the mirrors in the room, making everything awash with a soft glow instead of a harsh, direct light.

Even the headboard is backlit, and it soothes you, reminds you of the devilish man holding you, placing you gently onto the dark sheets and making you feel like a person about to be thoroughly worshipped.

His eyes glow in the darkened room, taking slow, deep breaths in what you think is his attempt to calm himself.

"What next?" you whisper softly, wondering how far you're willing to let this go.

"Next, I'd get you comfortable, make you come on my tongue a couple of times." He murmurs, crawling towards your parted legs.

You stop him with a foot on his shoulder, making him pause his preadory pursuit to look up at you.

"What if I'm already comfortable?" you ask, hoping he understands.

Predictably, he does understand, and he smiles, moving your foot away so that he can crawl up your body instead.

He hovers over you, red irises meeting yours, you can't help shiver at the sight of his large frame and defined muscle.

"Then, if you're nice and comfortable, I'd start you on my fingers. Would you like that?"

"Yes please." you murmur on a breath.

A small smile on his face as you feel his hand trail over your skin. Over your hip, he swirls a couple of circular patterns before cupping your mound.

You can't help gasping, sensitive to the sensations he gives you.

You part your thighs, to give him more space, and he smiles in approval of your actions.

"I'd start slow, with just one finger." As he speaks, he carries out the action, pressing a single finger to your dripping entrance.

Pleasure sparks within you as your body accepts his lone finger easily, pumping until your leg begins to twitch, before he's withdrawing from you to add a second finger.

You hiss in surprise, the smallest hints of discomfort at first before the absolute pleasure of fullness.

You sigh blissfully, body sinking deeper and deeper into the soft sheets, gasping in surprise as he draws his tail up to wriggle gently against your clit. You clench around his fingers helplessly.

"I'd tell you how good you're being for me, mistress, so eager and ready to give me your wet little cunt. How happy that makes me. How badly I want to please you."

You groan.

"Want a third?" He asks easily, and nothing could ever hope to stop you from nodding yes.

"Breathe for me." He guides, and you try to do as he says while he works a third finger into you.

He does it well, moving in and out slowly, letting your arousal coat his fingers before he continues, pumping in slow little motions that cause pleasure to overshadow the uncomfortable stretch.

He leans down, his tongue extending to lick over your breast.

You gasp, clenching around him, his tail on your clit and his fingers inside you and suddenly you begin to burn with the too little stimulation.

"Need to cum, Billy, please, 's too much I-" You gasp, unable to finish the sentence.

He understands, he always does.

Everything increases.

The speed of his fingers and the movements of his tail and even his tongue hastens its licking on your breast until you're shaking once more and you can't stop youself and you don't want to.

One of your hands reaches into his hair to grip it harshly, a low cry as he plays you like an instrument, fiddling with your body until you have no choice but to orgasm, back bowed, body shaking, vision going black in the bliss.

It's so amazingly good, it's all you can feel, pure euphoria, a loss of your faculties as he lays claim to your body and your pleasure.

When you come to, it feels like you've sunk even deeper into the sheets, gasping as his face comes in to focus.

He cups your face, and he waits patiently for the tremors to subside, his fingers petting along your cheek in a subtle attempt to bring your reality back into focus.

You can hardly believe that this is your existence. Here, below a breathtaking demon who caters to your every need, who makes you feel safe and protected and appreciated like no one else before.

It almost feels like a perfctly magnificent dream- until you remember the circumstances of your meeting, something that reminds you that this is indeed real, and this demon hovering over you, that holds you while you sleep and eases your aches, wants to be here.

In a small voice, you speak.

"What happens next?"

A sharp grin and a kiss to your nose and he's sliding his cock between your thighs once more.

"Next, I'd press my cock against your needy little cunt. I'll use my tail this time to show you."

Though it's not phrased as a question, he waits until you nod to begin working his tail against your entrance.

You sigh in bliss as his tail works its way into you, like a familiar feeling with brand new pleasure, not stretching you as wide as his three fingers were just doing moments before.

There's a little pinch of soreness from the overuse of your body, but it's easily ignored by looking into his crimson eyes.

"I'm sorry I'm so big," Billy murmurs above you, moving his hips in time with his tail, grinding his cock between your thighs to give you a realistic simulation, "no matter how much I stretch you, our first time together is still going to hurt a little."

"It's okay," you gasp, though, in reality, you weren't complety sure it was, "I'll learn to take you." There's a determination in your voice that you hope he hears.

His tail goes in a little deeper at the sound of your words, causing you to cry out sharply in pleasure.

"Do you mean that, mistress? You'd learn to take me? All of me?" His hands smooth over your thighs, touching your skin, tracing it with his fingers before leaning in to kiss you eagerly.

It was some type of torment, to have his cock so close and yearn for it to be inside of you with no hope or possibility of getting him there- at least not tonight. His warm skin pressed to yours, his tail taking its time, working in a steady, mindbreaking rhythm inside you.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you get your chance to speak.

"I mean it," you try to speak between waves of pleasure, "I want your cock, Billy, want you to teach me how to take you."

He pressed his forehead to yours and groans.

His pace increases, until his hips are slapping against yours, the vibration adding to the pleasure of his tail inside you, adjusting his angle just right until your toes are curling and his name is leaving your lips more than normal breaths.

Your walls clamp down around him, thighs shaking as liquid fire burns through your body, an orgasm that sends cascading shockwaves down your spine. Your nails sink into his back and bicep, no fear of hurting his rigid from with your little fingers. You thrash below him, tears spilling from your eyes when your body choses pleasure above breathing and leaves you floating for a moment before you're dragged back into consciousness.

He's kissing at your cheek, something so soft and gentle, body enveloping yours as though he hopes to protect your from any external forces.

His beard scratches along your face and something inside of you snaps.

"Billy." You whisper, and you find that your voice is hoarse though you barely remember screaming.

"Mistress?" he calls, and you clench around his tail, that hasn't left you yet.

"I need your cock. Now."

A moment of hestation.

"Mistress-"

"-I need you to at least try." You say, cutting him off, "Please, please, please, please, please." You emphasize, wiggling your hips.

Still Billy tries to resist.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Just try? Please? For me?"

You hear him take a breath.

"For you," he agrees, "Promise to tell me if you want to stop?"

You nod eagerly.

"Promise."

He pulls his tail slowly out of you, and immediately adjusts his hips so that the head of his cock is pressed to your entrance.

"Fuck." He swears.

His cock slips from your entrance, and he moves a hand down to guide himself back.

Then, he's pressing in.

You take a deep breath, mewling as the head of his cock notches into you. You gasp, blinking, trying to come to terms with the incredible stretch you're experiencing.

He's inside of you, and it's the greatest sensation, until he tries to press in more, and encounters resistance.

Suddenly there's a lot more pain, and you gasp, trying to breathe. Billy's eyes locked on you, his jaw clenched tight, eyes a dark red that you've never seen before.

He pauses, waiting for your okay to continue.

You nod your head, taking a slow breath.

When he tries to push in more, the pain overwhelms the pleasure, and your body shuts down. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Stop- I- I can't." You cry, unaccustomed to pain so sharp in that region of your body.

For a moment, he doesn't move, and you have to peek your eye open to meet his.

His eyes have gone all black, and the unfamiliarity of the situation has fear scraping at your insides. You try to back away, and he grips your hip in warning.

"Easy," he whispers so softly that it makes you relax, reminding you that this was your demon hovering over you, and not some untamed beast that he had managed to look like in the moment.

He takes his time, easing out of you so that he doesn't hurt you too much, and you sigh in relief when he's out, your core throbbing from overuse.

Billy's eyes are still black, when he reaches a hand down to begin stroking his cock.

"I need to cum, please. Can I?" He begs, fucking his fist knelt between your thighs.

Your mouth parts in shock at his desperation. His shoulders tremble, his abdomen tightens, his teeth glint in the light like they never have before. A snarling, raging beast all because he'd been inside of you for a short time.

"Mistress." He growls, bringing your focus back to his question his need to have his own orgasm.

Your head spins with thoughts.

Where was he going to cum? On your pussy and thighs? What a waste of cum that would be.

"In my mouth." You rush out, springing up and readjusting your body so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him.

Billy groans, watching you bring your mouth closer to the head of his cock, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his tip. Tentatively, you suck the smooth head of his cock into your mouth, moaning at the delectable taste of his precum and something extra- a tart taste of you.

"Fuck!" he gasps, and you take him as deep into your mouth as you can, swallowing as he comes.

You close your eyes, listening to his harsh breaths as he releases into your mouth, he tastes the same as last time, something that is not a favourite, but has the potential to be an acquired taste.

You enjoy each drop of his release, and it doesn't take long before your head begins swimming with haziness.

You suck him as best as you can, making sure he has no more to give, before pulling off of him and looking up with grateful eyes.

"Couldn't let you waste your cum," you try to explain, "when it's one of my favourite things."

Billy lets out a harsh breath, the darkness of his eyes slowly retreating into his pupil.

You hold his gaze, blinking slowly as inebriation overcomes you.

You crawl your way up, wrapping your shaky arms around his neck, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

"Smooth." you appreciate.

He grips your chin, and you mewl in protest when he tilts your head up to examine your eyes.

"You're cum drunk again." he says.

You giggle.

"I'm Billy drunk." you correct, swaying in his arms, after a moment you frown.

"I'm sorry I- that I made you-"

"Don't apologise for that. Ever. I never want to hurt you."

You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him as tight as physically possible.

"You're unreal." you murmur, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

"What's unreal, is how badly I need to taste you again."

You can't help laughing, thinking that he was joking.

"Something funny, mistress?"

"You are, Russo. Don't men need a break after they come?" You begin to turn away from him, mind already hazily reminding you that the bathroom was a good idea.

You don't get a chance to move too far away from him, before he's grabbing your wrist, turning you back to him and pushing you flat onto the bed.

Your head hits the pillow, a sound of surprise leaving your lips, eyes widening.

"I'm no ordinary man." He whispers against your lips, before giving you a cheeky smile and moving his way down your body.

It's poitively mind-blowing. You lose all sense of time and location, drifting throught the darkness behind your eyes while he uses his tongue on you, delving where he pleases, almost uncaring in the way he easily manipulates you into each orgasm. When you try to push him away, your skin hot and flushed with the overabundance of pleasure, he uses his influence to bind your hands above your head.

You become something unfamiliar. Something wanton, that thrives on his tongue, yearns for the way his fingers hold to your hips, keeping you steady amongst your wriggling. He makes you his, he makes himself yours.

His cum in your system does you no favours, it heightens your senses, increases the sensation of his touch, until you're trembling, until you're pulling at his restraints, begging for him to consume you whole and leave nothing behind.

When he's done, he holds you tightly, to his warm chest, little puffs of air disturbing your hair while you drift easily into sleep, his tail wrapped securely around your thigh, reminding you that there's nowhere on earth you can go, where he cannot find you.

It's the best feeling in the world.

When he wakes up in the morning, he's eager to make the apartment yours. He uses his influence to move all your things over from your old apartment, he even cleans and replaces any furniture he doesn't think you'd like. Perhaps it would be a good idea to go shopping too, to get anything extra you'd like.

Billy finds himself smiling while he whisks eggs.

"Mistress," Billy murmurs in your ear, his hands snaking over your hips, your amusement and affection increasing, "I can tell how much you like it. Please let me buy that lamp."

You study the blue stained glass lamp a second time.

"It's just too much Billy I couldn't possibly-"

He groans, spinning you on your heel to pinch your chin and bring you in for a kiss.

You sigh, happily, uncaring about the public space you were in, too caught up in your delectable demon to care. You throw your arms over his shoulders, standing on your toes, you feel the way he delights in rubbing his tongue against yours.

"Life is too shitty for you to deny yourself the things that you want." He says when he breaks the kiss.

You laugh, wondering idly how you let him convince you to leave the apartment for long enough to get anything done.

Your eyes crinkle, bumping your nose against his. Yup, you definitely wanted to take him somewhere secluded so you could jump him.

He groans again, catching the general idea of what you were thinking.

"I meant the lamp." He tries to clarify.

"Of course you did." You tease.

he rolls his eyes, pulls away from you to find a sales clerk.

Somehow, even after buying so many things, you don't even have to haul it out of the store, Billy handles everything, from paying to delivery arrangements, he gets it done, and all you had to do was pont at items and they were yours.

Ours, you think, turning to look at him, busy writing something down.

Because as insane as it might sound, you wanted to share your life with him, permanently.

You only wonder if that's something he wanted too.

While he's giving the woman at the counter payment and delivery instructions, you begin to turn in boredom to look around, accidentally bumping into someone as you move.

You smile, murmuring apologies, and they do the same politely before walking off.

A vaguely familiar masculine voice calls your name in surprise, and you turn, your stomach dropping as you catch sight of your ex- best friend.

The taste in your mouth sours as Dimitri approaches, the last interaction you had together springs to mind as if it's just happened, as if it was just yesterday he was calling you a 'spiteful bitch' because you wouldn't have sex with him.

Distaste shivers down your spine as he smiles at you. You take a shallow breath, mouth forming into an abrasive smile in hopes of warding him away.

It doesn't work, he only gets closer.

You freeze when he moves to hug you, pulling up short as his eyes make contact with something- or rather someone behind you.

"Who's this?" he asks casually, referring to the six-foot demon man ready to rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch you again.

You swallow nervously.

#an altar for our sins #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #demon!billyrusso #billy russo smut #dark!billy russo #my writings #billy russo #monster!billy russo #billy russo fanfic #marvel the punisher #ben barnes

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 28)

Tw: Non con touching and kissing, reader blaming themselves for said non con touching and kissing, religion mentions

Gimme anon asks and comments n reblogs

vote below i will only consider first 20 voters

Part 28.5

Evangeline and Montgomery seem disappointed when you said you're not interested in either clubs.

They wanted to say something, but you told them you're heading to class. You retrieved all your items and rushed to leave.

"Wait a minute, darlin'. You forgot somethin'." Said Montgomery.

You fell for his bait and turned around.

Your blood pressure spiked when he pressed his dry lips against yours. Lucky for him, he pulled away before you could deliver a sucker punch to his jaw- you tried, but you missed.

So you spit in disgust, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

"Here." He grabbed your wrist and shoved two $20 bills again. You mentally calculated the total amount of money he gave you so far. it's around $125 at this point "This time, I'll call ya'."

He grinned, patting your head like a dog before pressing another kiss on the forehead. You pushed him away this time, but he was unfazed.

"Wow, Monty! You're a true Christian, molesting a student that's probably three decades your junior, I know a lot of pastors do that!" Evangeline was loud enough to make heads turn in the library. Murmurs started resonating throughout the building about what they just heard.

"You fuckin' bitch-" He whisper-yelled, but was cut off by Evangeline.

"Fuck off, old man. Take a bath while you're at it." The dissonance is jarring, she was smiling so politely and kindly, but her tone and words described her otherwise.

Montgomery stormed away, not sparing you or her any more glances.

You turned to the Blonde. She was giggling to herself like she just witnessed the world's funniest joke.

In the end though, you told Evangeline that you're going to skip your lecture and go home.

"Well, can I hang out with you at home?"

You scratched the back of your head and grimaced.

You told her no and muttered a short apology.

"Aw." She pouted. "That's okay."

You nervously turned around and walked to the car park. However, she wrapped her arms around yours and followed you.

You asked her what was she doing.

"Oh, since I have nothing to do here, might as well get on the same ride. Daddy will send me home after dropping you off."

You asked if she has to be this close to you. Her chest is pressing up against your side as she hugs your arm. It's soft and too warm for your liking.

"We're friends! Nothing more, nothing less. This is totally normal." She leaned her head against your shoulder.

You told her to please not touch you. She frowned.

"You're not letting a man dictate your life, are you? I think Sir Yves is too controlling, besides, I'm not doing anything bad, I'm just walking with you to the parking lot!" She's not letting you go, maintaining her iron grip on your arm despite you obviously trying to wrench it away. She is deceptively strong.

So you became silent and complied. Wanting nothing more than to go home, lock yourself in your air-conditioned room and cry to Yves. Perhaps even spend all your allowance just to fly to Yves. You can't take it anymore, everything is so scary, weird and confusing.

Yves would know what to do.

You were trapped in your own mind as you made your way to Mr. Jones's car with Evangeline clinging onto you.

She finally released you as you opened the door. Evangeline went to the other side.

"Hello Mx. (Name) and... Evangeline." Mr. Jones sounded down. He kept giving you and her anxious glances, mostly disappointed ones towards his daughter.

But Evangeline's sunshiny demeanour never faltered. She greeted her father as she buckled her belt.

He drove off without a word.

There was a blanket of tense silence draping over the three of you. When the car came to a stop at a traffic light, Mr. Jones was the first one to break the quietness.

"Sir Yves called me earlier. He was describing your behavior, Evangeline." He sounded careful, not wanting to offend his beloved daughter or his important client.

She sighed. "I know, daddy. It was wrong of me to do that. It won't happen again."

"He sounded very unhappy, Evangeline. I... I'm sorry for talking about this in front of you, Mx (name). I just... I'm..." He trailed off, struggling to find the words that he wanted to say.

You told him that it is okay. You don't mind, he can continue on.

"Thank you, Mx. (Name). Please don't be pressured to stay silent, tell us if you're uncomfortable and we will stop." You nodded. Suddenly, Evangeline's cheery attitude darkened.

"Daddy, you're not being professional. (Name) is still your client, you should not mix personal matters with your job."

You knitted your eyebrows in concern. What is going on? And what a hypocrite! Evangeline literally hopped on the same car as you, if anything, she's the one who isn't professional.

"I know, sweetie but... this is concerning Mx. (name) and your actions and... what's going on?" He asked, he is worried that his daughter is going through something that's causing all these issues.

"What do you mean, daddy?" She was feigning ignorance.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when his eyes landed on your figure. Best to settle this in private.

"I'll talk to you later. I'm so sorry you had to hear that, Mx. (Name). I just want to find out what's happening in my daughter's life. You understand, right?"

You said yes and told him you have no problems with this. To that, he breathed out a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Mx. (Name)."

Neither of you shared any words as he drives on. You saw Evangeline boringly looked out of the window as she props her cheek against her fist.

She doesn't seem mentally present here, but her other hand is sensually stroking your thigh up and down.

You alternate between her and her hand. Holding onto that glimmer of hope she will realize what's she doing is fucking crazy and snap out of it.

It seems like she isn't stopping anytime soon and neither is she paying attention to what she's doing.

You looked at Mr. Jones. He's doing his job, not noticing what's happening in the back seat. He has a troubled expression on his face as he handles the steering wheel.

Only when her hand got too close to your crotch, only did you pretend to drop your phone. You pushed her hand away as you bent down to pick your device up.

But she didn't care to have her eyes on you. Opting to stare out into the distance instead.

You let out a loud shriek when she slid her hand down the gap between your skin and the waistband of your pants.

"Mx. (Name)!? Are you okay!?" The sudden alarm almost caused Mr. Jones to swerve his car.

You were about to point at Evangeline and accuse her of touching you, but...

Poor Mr. Jones. He's already having a rough day, you can see it in his eyes that he's about to cry if anything else goes wrong today. He's been nothing but nice to you, it would definitely crush him to know his daughter is a predator.

You looked up at Evangeline. She wasn't smiling nor frowning, you don't know what she's feeling at the moment.

So you... just said nothing. You composed yourself and made a barrier between you and her, using your increasingly bulky bag. Without Yves, you're just stuffing everything inside that sad sack.

Eventually, the energy in the car was lowered. Everyone calmed down and the ride was completed without any further hitches.

Unbeknownst to you, Evangeline was staring at you through the window's reflection this whole time.

You cocooned yourself in your blankets and stayed far away from your phone. It's buzzing like crazy, it could either come from Yves, Montgomery or Evangeline.

You didn't want to face any of them. The latter two for obvious reasons. Yves, because you don't know how to explain to him what has happened.

You haven't told him about Montgomery's daily visit and touches. You don't know how he will react to them especially when you're the one accepting his food, money and keychain. You could have said no to both of them, but you let them stay regardless.

You were spineless enough to let them drag you around and You're afraid as to how Yves will react to your uselessness.

Feeling betrayed and saddened, you thought Evangeline would have protected you. But she was flip flopping between Yves's side and Montgomery's. Now, you have to protect yourself from her.

Maybe Yves is going to be upset at you instead, for physically and emotionally cheating on him. For not doing enough to stop it. For not telling him earlier. Making you complicit in their predatory behaviors.

The buzzing from your phone wouldn't stop, so you covered your head with a pillow. Sobbing into it and yearning for comfort. Doubtful that you could get it from Yves anymore.

You were about to drift off to sleep in a puddle of your own tears until suddenly...

"(Name)! Wake the fuck up, you lazy ass!" Your housemate banged their fist on your door.

Hopping out of bed, you screamed that you're coming. Great, now what? Is she going to fight you for shedding hair around the house? You frowned, wiping away the tears and sniffling.

You opened the door just to suddenly have a phone aggressively shoved into your face. You were about to take a swing at her until a very, very familiar voice rang out.

"(name), dear?"

You gasped, instinctively reaching out to try and hang up. But your housemate was too tall, too fast.

"Hey, your boyfriend's been calling you and you weren't picking up. Go talk to him and tell him you're not dead!" She scolded you.

Running out of energy, you gave up and she slowly lowered her phone to your hands.

"I'll be back in like, twenty minutes. Switch to your own phone if you guys aren't done by then. Don't break it!" You nodded and slammed the door shut behind you.

You took a deep breath and called out for him.

"You were crying."

Your heart skipped a beat when he said that. You were rendered speechless as you tried to keep your sniffling at bay.

"(name)." He whispered.

You gave him no response.

"Jones told me what happened." You held onto a breath as your eyes shot open.

"It was not your fault." Yves softly assured you.

This made you cry out noisily, out of relief, fear and shame. You sobbed and hiccupped, wiping your eyes with your palm.

You're starting to feel anger rising up. He saw it? Why didn't he stop Evangeline from doing what she did? Or at least acknowledge it and tell her off? You understand that you would excuse your own flesh and blood for a lot of things, but not this.

You told him you were sorry through shaky breaths and weeps, apologizing for not telling about Montgomery, about choosing to eat his food because you forgot to bring Yves's premade meals, about enabling his behavior even though you shouldn't.

You told him everything that has happened during his absence. Not a single detail left out, you begged for his forgiveness and promised that you wouldn't keep anything from him again. You just wanted help to get out of this situation.

"(name). I am not blaming you for what Montgomery or Jones's daughter did to you." His calmness is helping you slow your heart rate.

"None of it was of any fault of yours." He repeated.

"They are fully responsible for how they act." He continued. "It sickens me that they dare to accuse you of influencing them, when you have done nothing except to protect yourself."

You sniffled and wept harder. You didn't understand, you told him that you didn't run or fight them. You must be partially at fault, at the very least. You were compliant and you should have been firm with your rejections.

"I know you, (name). You tend to freeze and fawn in stressful situations. You were merely protecting yourself, and you shouldn't think otherwise." You could only hear the compassion, sympathy and love in his voice. There wasn't a trace of mockery or disdain. That realization that Yves is truly not criticizing you, gave you an intense, never-felt-before surge of consolation throughout your body.

While allowing you more time to let everything out of your system, Yves deactivated the hidden cameras and microphones he installed in Mr. Jones's car. You will not be using his services anymore.

You berated yourself for being so weak. You wished you had a fight or flight system instead of... freeze or fawn. Yves should be enjoying his time overseas, relaxing before his conference, but he's stuck fixing your problems.

He is better off not having you as his partner. That way, he would be unburdened by your inability to survive without him. You think Yves is going to find someone else who knows how to stand up for themselves, someone respectable--

"(Name). That's enough." You were instantly snapped out of your self-deprecating spiral by his stern voice.

"Thoughts that do not serve you have no place in your mind. I vowed to always be there for you. I am not a man who would go back on his words. I mean everything I say." Yves's strictness was evident in both his tone and uttered syllables.

"Don't you dare think for a moment that I would ever leave you." Yves's words are akin to a subdued thunder, dangerously threatening and gravelly. This marks the first time witnessing a taste of Yves's fury, it rattled you to the bones and you were grateful that your eyes were spared from seeing his unimaginable expression.

In the end, your brain felt... empty. You were whimpering, but it's almost like you're afraid to commit a thoughtcrime against Yves. You become extremely cautious of what goes through your head.

The sounds of him scribbling something on a notepad filled the silence. You coughed a bit from your mucus and tears as typing could be heard in the background.

You're now sitting on the floor, cross legged. Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you're content having him on the line as company.

You have no other words to say and neither did he. You're okay with that, much to your surprise.

You heard him softly take a breath,

"(name)." His intonation is now back to being gentle and nurturing. You acknowledged that you were listening.

"I want your absolute honesty." You gulped, fearing what he's going to say next.

"Do you want me to return home earlier?" Direct and straight to the point. You started stammering, that is such a loaded request. You can't possibly tell him to cut his trip short! Yves probably hasn't even stepped foot into the conference hall yet--

"(Name)." The hardness of his voice suggests that you be quiet and listen to what he has to tell you next.

"A yes, or a no."

Yves gave you some time to think after his curt addition.

You licked your lips and made your decision.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #oc yves #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc montgomery #oc evangeline #tw non con touching #tw non con kissing #tw victim blaming

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gabzlovesu · 11 months

Text

“𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐍”

╰ ft. rekka hoshimiya

warnings: stalker!rekka, fem!reader, desecrating a church, admonishing the reader for saying God’s name, creampie & unprotected sex, bruising/hickies, calls reader a ‘slut’

please understand that i am not endorsing sexual acts being performed on religious/sacred grounds nor promoting any type of religion or religious beliefs!

☆ PLEASE READ MY RULES/BYF BEFORE INTERACTING ! MINORS DNI ! ☆

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

Loud thunder claps over the towering nave of the cathedral and lightning flashes through the stained glass, illuminating the sinful act happening between the pews. You, skin-to-skin with the man that has plagued your mind for months since he stood outside your bedroom door. If anyone saw you desecrating the precious cathedral of Company 1, you would be removed from the team and stripped from your title as a sister… just like you were stripped of your tunic only moments ago.

It was wrong, so very wrong but you could only focus on the pleasure consuming you — him consuming you. And you let him because as much as you intrigued him, you were also enthralled by his unpredictable nature.

Rekka Hoshimiya was an enigma that you wanted to learn about, and tonight you learned how it felt to have his hands caress every inch of you, how it felt to have his lips on yours, and how it felt to have him so deep inside of you that he could feel your heartbeat with his dick. Every single aspect of the lieutenant was etched into your memory.

You brace yourself on his shoulders and throw your head back in bliss as you ride him to oblivion, your sweet moans drown out the groaning of the old, wooden pew and only fuel his desire to possess every part of you.

He started with your mind. Toying with you and making his presence known while never truly revealing himself as he stalked you in the dark halls at night. He began to leave flowers and pictures he took of you when you didn’t expect prying eyes.

Then it turned physical. Rekka had frightened you one night when you woke up and saw him standing in front of the bed. You knew not to scream…and the truth is you didn’t want to scream. A wise person would stay away and get help, but you found yourself drifting closer to his eerie figure, letting him trace the side of your face with a cold finger before leaving your room. How he acted in the shadows at night with you was so different from how he was during the day with everyone else.

So you knew what you were getting into when you walked into the cathedral tonight, white lace hidden beneath your tunic just for him. He had started to taint your pure soul with his darkness and you were willing to let him finish.

“Take it, this is what you wanted right? So take it like the slut you are.” Rekka grabs your slowing hips and slams you down onto his dick, over and over til it has you seeing stars.

“Oh God,” you cry out and dig your nails into his already scarred back.

“God can’t save you right now.” He pulls you closer by the cross necklace dawning your neck. “And don’t ever call His name while I’m fucking you.”

You’re so lost in the fog of lust that you just shake your head, absentmindedly agreeing to his command. Rekka can do as he pleases with you as long as he didn’t stop, you wanted to reach your release with him inside of you so he could feel your pussy flutter around his shaft and your sweet cream drip down to his heavy balls. Just the thought of it has you clenching with excitement and you earn a groan of pleasure from the red-head.

For a second he reciprocated you, throwing his head over the back of the pew, slipping into pure bliss — but it’s short-lived, deciding that your breasts were a better spot. He kisses over the hickies that he painted upon your skin as an apology before turning his attention to your nipple, sucking and pulling while tweaking the other between his fingers. A trail of spit follows as he switches to enclose the other in his warm mouth.

Your hands find refuge in his hair, tangling with the red strands as you try to pull him impossibly closer. Rekka’s grip on your ass becomes bruising as he tries to do the same, both of you chasing a high that was so close. You were sure he could hear your heart pounding in your chest. It wasn’t from excitement or the thrill of getting caught that had it racing a mile or minute, it was the fact that you knew you weren’t ascending to heaven but instead falling into the depths of darkness with him.

As you struggle to breathe something inside of you suddenly snaps and causes you to come undone in his hold. Even though you lay on him totally spent, there’s no rest for you as he continues to hit your spongy sweet spot.

The wooden pew trembles under the forcefulness of his thrusts. It only takes a few more for his movements to get sloppy. His own release catches him by surprise before he lets himself get engulfed by your drenched pussy one last time and remains there for a minute.

As heart rates slow and breathing returns to normal, the thin veil of lust is lifted to reveal you lying there in the arms of a sinner.

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes @indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @sookisaurus @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @510hz @diorsbrando @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @chittakii @breyspage @queenbeenafit @alessiamargaux @anymouse773

#rekka x reader #rekka hoshimiya x reader #rekka x black!reader #fire force #rekka hoshimiya #fire force smut

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yutafrita · 10 months

Text

To Pierce The White Eye- THREE

Pre. / One / Two / Three / Four / Fin.

Pairing: Psychic!Jaemin x Reader (She/ her)

Genre: Fantasy, Thriller, soulmates au, angst

Warnings: Graphic depictions of physical violence, mentions of vomit, Occult imagery, mentions of religion,

Word Count: 7.1K

Work is inspired by/ based on blue exorcist & vampire knight.

You and Jaemin were squatting over your tiny kitchen table, shoulders brushing as you watched him doodle on a loose paper he asked for. You had taken him back to your studio so you could put on fresh clothes, and all the while he was silent as he pieced together his thoughts.

“The Na prophecy has been passed through my family for hundreds of years. We bear the burden of seeing it through to completion,” he started, capping the pen he was using and now using it as a pointer.

“The university’s goal was to always assist in bridging the human and mythic world-,” he pointed at the two opposite edges on the rickety bridge he had hastily drawn, “but they always lacked the proper parts to build a bridge. Architects, sure,” he pointed at a small stick figure with a large coat, “and two- somewhat begrudging- sides. The bridge, though, never properly came into fruition. It wasn’t simply a bridge that we were missing, and the prophecy my ancestors saw knew this,” he paused to look up at you and away from his drawing.

“Spit it out,” you whispered, struggling to not collapse under your nerves.

“The bridge, that connection, needs three things- a human, a mythic, and… Satan’s blue flames,” your eyes widened when he uttered the last words. Blue Flames- like the ones you just exploded in. “A human and a mythic, easy enough, but Satan’s blue flames can only be achieved by either Satan himself or his offspring.”

You dropped yourself onto your floor, knees giving out on you. Jaemin couldn’t catch you in time, reaching at your elbows and falling to your side.

“If I could have seen your future, I would have caught you,” he admitted sheepishly, hoping to lighten up the weight he dropped. Your hands raced through your scalp, terrified as you tried in vain to dig up any memories from before your abandonment, but none coming to fruition. Those flames… it made no sense how they didn’t burn you except…

“How did you know?”

“... I could see your future for a while-.”

“No, how did you know who my birth father was? How did you know to keep watch over my future?”

Jaemin sighed, his chest deflating, “You met my mother when your father took you in. You were still young, confused, and even vampires who hid their fangs terrified you.”

“I was scared of everything- I was a kid,” you defended, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Right, but your father still had to host council meetings, so to help acclimate you he sometimes would ask a few parents to get there earlier and just… chat with you.”

“Ten was always there with me so it was more of a playdate when his Mom would visit… but I don’t remember your Mom,” you confessed.

“I know, she was only there twice. We have a habit on occasion of just seeing someone's future just because we can will it- but when she saw yours… she said all she saw was blue. She went by a second time, just to be sure.”

You moved away from Jaemin, frustrated then as you sat on your couch with your head in your hands.

You were busy trying to plug different parts of the prophecy into your current situation. If you were truly Satan’s child (the flames made this difficult to deny), the human and flames were your parents (yuck- biological parents), but the mythic left you feeling uneasy.

“There’s more,” he whispered, still on the floor and staring up at you with wide eyes. When you remained silent, he took this as a sign to continue, “when those three ingredients are achieved, then the following sequence will occur,” Jaemin breathed in deeply, building up his courage, “a destined ruler will die in order for the blue flames to arrive on earth. A mythic in relation to the deceased ruler will fall in love with the flames. Then, either the pair dies, or someone else dies in order to protect them.”

The weight on your chest became crushing, and you released the breathe you were holding in. You couldn’t even fathom how Jaemin had to have felt bearing this knowledge.

“Just because your family says this prophecy is your responsibility, doesn’t mean it actually is,” your voice was hardly a whisper, and you stared at the blank TV in front of you.

You felt the couch dip next to you, and you didn’t bother looking over.

“So she told you about me and you took the mantle of making sure the prophecy is followed,” you thought over his words again, frowning, “no one should have to die to build a stupid metaphorical bridge.”

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Jaemin’s voice cracked, and that was when you looked to meet his gaze.

“What?”

“Ask me who I see dying.”

You looked at the psychic, petrified by the pained smile he wore.

“It was supposed… it was supposed to be me,” your eyes widened at his revelation, “but now… I don’t even know now because I can’t see your future,” he chuckled dryly, running his hands through his hair before looking back at you, “do you want to know why?”

“Stop with the fucking quest-.”

You stopped, guilt slamming your chest as you watched a silent tear graze down his twitching cheek. Clumsily, like how he did with you, you passed your sleeved hand over his cheek, sloppily drying him off.

“I want to see your future the most,” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deeply concentrating on something.

“A destined ruler will die in order for the blue flames to arrive to earth, and a mythic in relation to the deceased ruler will fall in love with the flames…” you repeated, “no one’s in love with me…”

Jaemin cleared his throat and averted your gaze, “yeah, well, I thought it would be someone else. I guess he’ll just need more time.”

You studied the side of his face, burying your own suspicions before you simply nodded in response. It’s not that you were not a believer in love- matter of fact, romance was one of your favorite book genres to read. It was more so that fact that you yourself had never been in love with someone- in relationships, yes, but being fully in love with someone…

“In your paths… did you see yourself in love with someone?” you asked. Maybe the psychic could tell you about how he would feel eventually.

He glared at you before he softened his expression. Jaemin internally was having a bit of a dilemma- he so desperately wanted to tell you what he knew, but he was petrified of your reaction. It terrified him that he couldn’t see your future, but he could catch a few small snippets of his own.

“... warm. It… feels warm. Like, yeah you’ve been warm before but there’s this warmth somewhere in your heart that you didn’t even know was cold,” he answered. His explanation made you melt- there was something so sincere about how he spoke, and there was something you felt blossom inside of you.

“Well, the person you’re meant to be with is very lucky,” you offered. You felt envious, and you chalked up the feeling to wanting to have someone who thought of you like that. Someone that felt warm at the thought of you.

Jaemin smiled grimly, “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

You’re not sure at what point it happened, but between you leaning your head on the couch and maintaining a half conversation with Jaemin, you stopped responding, instead falling asleep. You knew he had fallen asleep too, because in the midst of your dreams you found yourself being yanked out and returning to that white circular room.

Jaemin was on his hands and knees on the floor, slapping the ground to look for something. You ignored the TV screens- some of which were more grainy than others- and kneeled in front of the psychic.

“It should be around here,” he muttered, ignoring your presence as he continued to slap along the pure white ground. You opened your mouth to speak before you let out a terrified scream, the ground beneath you opening as you fell for a few seconds, landing in a dim room on your back. You were breathing heavily, the white room still above you and seeping light into the dark space you found yourself in. Jaemin’s head poked out from above and he smiled, easily climbing down the opening and landing next to you. He helped you up as lights began to hum in the space, more monitors coming to life.

Only, these monitors were far fewer in their numbers than the ones above, and each one varied in age and size. You explored the cramped space with your eyes as they adjusted, noticing the cabinets that filled the area along with a computer tower in the corner.

“What’s this?” you asked, moving towards some of the cabinets.

“These are my memories of all my visions,” he explained, going toward the cabinet you were reaching for. With an experienced hand, he opened a drawer, leafing through the folders to yank one up. “When I was younger, I would pop into my Dad’s memory bank- it was huge,” Jaemin gushed, taking out a DVD from the folder as he moved towards the computer tower.

“So, these spaces change?”

“Yeah, mine hasn’t changed much, though,” Jaemin admitted. As he slid the DVD into its player, the lone blank monitor hummed to life.

“Have you ever tried to change it?” you asked, squinting at the lonely space he was in. Jaemin simply shrugged, his eyes fixed on the monitor in front of him. You moved forward, and Jaemin was painfully aware of your proximity to him, trying his best to not appear nervous.

The screen showed a clear video of you and Mark outside of the night dorm fence, a sunny day. Jaemin lifted an irritated finger, making you turn your gaze to the upper right hand corner that had a date and time stamped on the video.

“That was-.”

“The day after you met Yuta,” Jaemin cut you off, and you frowned.

“I… I was going to say the day we met,” you paused, “how did you know I met him that day?”

“That’s one of your paths I’ve been tracking… it wasn’t supposed to rain this day, and… and you were supposed to take the left,” Jaemin watched the screen with a slack jaw as he watched your figure on screen start to check around the night dorm via the left, and Mark the other side.

Irritated, you ejected the DVD from the computer tower, snatching it up in your hand as Jaemin stared at you in fear.

“Jaemin. It’s done. What the hell is the point of seeing the future if you can’t stop obsessing over the past? What is even the difference here?”

Jaemin was quiet, before shutting his eyes. “I think I should go.”

********

It had been a few days, and you felt as if you were in a constant state of limbo. All you wanted to do was speak with Jaemin again, but since he left that night all you could do was second guess any of your actions- you were terrified of affecting the prophecy and in turn hurting him more. You just wish you could understand him. You felt alone and scared- did he feel that way too?

You slinked into the back of all your human classes and had skipped all of your night classes, leaving poor Mark to have to manage all of the Warden duties on his own for a week.

It was as you were dipping out of your bio class that your brother caught you. Mark pinched your ear, and you whined as you swatted his hand away, “cut that shit out!”

“Dude, I need you to go on watch tonight,” he snipped, ignoring your visibly disheveled appearance. You had slid out of bed earlier and just had on a hoodie that was far too old and pants that sat awkwardly on your hips since you lost the string that held them up properly. You knew that Mark could tell something was up with you, but he knew better than to pry when you seemed so miserable. You may look irritated, but you were frankly scared above all else.

“Fine,” you muttered. Doing research on your own you found that onyx was a good defense against demons and Satan, so after ordering two onyx bracelets, the bands wrapped around your wrist and seemed to suck out any energy you had. You were terrified of suddenly bursting into flames, but you wished you weren’t tired all of the time.

Ten and Chaein didn’t push your buttons when you walked into class that night. Ten simply glared at the onyx bracelets and Chaein offered a sympathetic smile. The rest of your peers, though, began to whisper amongst themselves when you entered the class, but all you could see was that Jaemin’s seat was empty. You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to keep some semblance of focus on what your professor was discussing that night.

“... this unit is going to be a bit contentious,” the faerie professor hummed before continuing, “but the next three classes will be focusing on the Sect of Satan.”

“Professor, is that really necessary?” one of the students shot up from their seats. No one else spoke, but you saw multiple heads nodding in agreement.

“Hendery, this is a Modern Mythic Religion class- it would be like a human religion class not once mentioning any of the Abrahamic religions.”

“Sir-.”

“If any of you counter me again we are going to have a big problem,” the professor silenced the student named Hendery, and the student sat back down in defeat. You weren’t pleased at all by the lesson plan, but you were too exhausted to even think of arguing.

Outside now after your class, you sat on a bench taking in the cool night air. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to stay awake, returning to stare off into space until you heard a leaf crunch behind you. Slower than you would have liked, you shot up from the bench, taking out your bo staff to see…

“What the…?” you looked down to see a small white cat staring up at you curiously. Pouting, and now spent from that small burst of adrenaline, you perched yourself on your knees to meet the cat at eye level. “Oh hi there buddy,” you hummed, scratching behind the cat's ears. It shut its eyes, leaning into your hand as you carefully studied it. Its fur seemed fairly clean, brushed, and the cat was friendly enough with humans to not be scared by your touch.

“Where’s your owner?” you wondered out loud, taking back your hand as the cat made eye contact with you.

“I would say I’m pretty independent,” the cat replied, making your eyes bulge before a realization dawned on you- shifters could turn into a few different animals, and one of them was a cat.

“Creep!” you lurched away from the cat, and it visibly scoffed.

“You’re the one that pet me.”

“What do you want?” you stood up. Your arms were crossed as you glared down at the feline. It was just the two of you outside of the main building, and all the other mythics were still in at least one more class for the evening.

“You should talk to Jaemin,” the cat replied matter of factly. Your eyebrow twitched, stunned by the sheer audacity of this cat. “He’s… been a bit of a mess since you last spoke.”

“I’m trying… I…” you frowned, shutting your eyes as you attempted to gather your frayed thoughts. Sighing deeply, you opened your eyes, “I don’t want to… fuck with my future more and hurt him.”

The cat stood up then, its tail swishing. “You guys are really meant for each other.”

“What?”

“Go see him, I’ll cover your guard,” the cat instructed before within the blink of an eye it transformed into the student that was arguing with the professor earlier.

“Why are you doing this, Hendery?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied his face.

“He’s my friend, and I don’t have to be a psychic to know that you’ll probably be somewhere in my future, too. Now go,” he smiled, taking the spot on the bench you previously were on. With the small bit of energy you had left, you slowly got up and made your way to the night dorm with Jaemin being the only person on your mind.

Across campus, Jaemin was in the courtyard of the night dorm. He hadn’t gone to class in a week and only left his dorm room to use the bathroom or steal food from the kitchen when his peers went to class.

Jaemin hadn’t been inducing any visions, so whenever one was forced onto him he winced in pain with a shot depth perception. Sat on a bench in the courtyard with his sandwich he flinched as a vision shoved itself into his view- it was of Hendery in his cat form, outside of the Knight’s Cross main building. Jaemin groaned. This vision had been popping up these past few days, more clear and crisp whenever it revealed itself to him.

Jaemin wished he wasn’t an idiot.

He wanted to talk to you so badly, but he was afraid of messing everything up. Jaemin wasn’t known for his sociability, and he was sure that he had scared you off. His obsession with making sure the Na prophecy was fulfilled was simply a good distraction for the simple fact that you were each other’s soulmate.

It terrified him.

It’s not that he didn’t feel like he deserved to be loved, but he just frankly accepted that if he was to be loved it would never be in the way his parents love each other. It’s gross, really. They dote on one another and have a secret language only the other could ever understand. There was no way he could ever be that… in love with someone else.

Yet, he smiled so easily with you- truly a rare feat. Even just thinking of you now in the empty courtyard with the last remaining bites of his sandwich, he couldn’t help but smile. He loved being around you and your humor and your love for weird books and topics. He felt so unnaturally safe with you, it freaked him out.

He wasn’t in love with you, but he knew that he could be, and the fact that Jaemin couldn’t see this future made him want to throw up.

“Come on come on come on….” The soft voice at the front entrance of the courtyard made Jaemin’s ears perk up. For the first time in a few days, he forced a vision of himself, and gasped when he saw the other person entering the courtyard.

The courtyard entrance clicked, accepting Mark’s keycard. Your brother swiftly entered the space, having a proud smile before his eyes landed on Jaemin and turned sour.

“Hey! Psychic!” Mark called stomping over to the bench Jaemin sat on. Jaemin’s eyes returned to normal, frantically scanning the courtyard for anything he could use to put some distance between him and Mark to no avail. Instead, he stood up tall, doing his best to rid any emotion from his face.

“I have a name,” Jaemin replied briskly as your brother now stood mere inches from him. Your brother may not be as good of a fighter as you, but he was still good enough to handle any medium level supernatural threat.

“You’re a dick.”

Jaemin’s face went blank. “Huh?”

“You heard me. You know, I get that I shouldn’t get involved in any of my sister’s relationships- but you,” Mark took a sharp breath, shutting his eyes before glaring back at Jaemin, “you’ve made her second guess herself and that’s not okay.”

“Second guess herself?” Jaemin repeated this in a hushed tone, a feeling of disgust settling in his stomach.

“Yes, shitface. I don’t know what happened, but you need to apologize to her and fix whatever the fuck you did,” Mark tightened his grip on his backpack strap. It was obvious to Jaemin that was all Mark could do to refrain from beating Jaemin’s ass. “She’s in the courtyard of the main building,” was all Mark said before turning on his heel, his steps echoing in the gated space until he finally left the psychic alone.

Jaemin felt a swell of emotions choke him. He felt guilty that he made you feel like that- it may not have been his intention, but that didn’t change the result. He also, and this part was small and he was ashamed of it, was giddy at the thought of you potentially wanting to see him.

Wiping the sweat that formed on his hands off his shirt, he moved through and out of the courtyard. Along the long path away from the night dorm, Jaemin had expected to see Mark’s receding figure, but instead saw you running towards the courtyard and only picking up the pace when you saw the psychic slip out.

“J-Jaemin!” you shouted, your arms wrapping around the psychics neck as you collapsed into his arms.

“I’m sorry I was avoiding you I just-.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you cut him off, your voice muffled as you buried your face into his neck.

“You could never hurt me,” Jaemin whispered. After a few beats of silence, he realized that you had leaned your full weight on him and had fallen asleep. Had you not been able to sleep? As Jaemin adjusted you in his arms to get a better look at your sleeping face, he heard the clank of bracelets, and knew what they were before even seeing them. Onyx bracelets. It was sucking the life out of you because you had no idea how to control your powers.

*****

Jaemin was seated on your couch when you woke up, wide awake and flipping through a high school yearbook.

“Good morning, I hope it’s okay that I stayed here. I just wanted to be sure you were okay,” he set the book down, making his way to your bedside. You squinted at the psychic, still sifting through your memories of the night before but nothing after running to Jaemin came to mind. Despite this haze though, you felt more full of energy than you had in the past week.

“It’s okay, thanks,” you whispered. Glancing down, you saw the glass of water the psychic held. Cautiously, you took it from his extended hand.

“I need to tell you something,” Jaemin whispered, his voice shaky. This moment was the one he was dreading as you slept. It wasn’t fair, he felt, for you to not know everything. It made his chest ache at the thought of hiding the truth- the whole truth from you. You deserved the whole world.

You groaned, “you didn’t eat the last yogurt I had in the fridge, did you?”

Jaemin was stunned for a moment before he laughed and shook his head, “no, I didn’t.”

“Good, that means it can wait until I piss,” you hummed, setting the glass on your nightstand and brushing past Jaemin. You stopped at the doorframe of your bathroom and glanced over your shoulder, “Jae?”

Jaemin blushed at the sudden nickname but tried to not show that his heart was racing, “yeah?”

“I know you act weird sometimes because your whole life was spent focused on that prophecy. When it isn’t about that, though, I think you’re actually kind of sweet, so you should just… be yourself,” you spoke, having practiced these exact sentences in your head all last week. You shut the bathroom door, and Jaemin clutched his chest.

What was this feeling wrapping around his heart and lungs? The tightening of it as he replayed your words in his head? You thought he was sweet?

In the bathroom, you sprinted through your morning routine- you were so aware of Jaemin’s presence near you and all you wanted to do was keep speaking with him. How did he sleep? Did he see any interesting futures as he did?

You stepped out of the bathroom, shrugging on a hoodie you left on your floor as you approached the corner of your bed Jaemin perched himself on. His eyes felt like they could nail you down to your spot. You began to feel oddly shy as you leaned on the wall across from him, waiting.

“So, my Mom told me about why I can’t see your future,” Jaemin’s voice was shaky despite the way his eyes never lost focus from you. You tilted your head, attentive as he continued, “she told me…about how when she never saw my father in her future. And, I remembered how my aunt never saw her partner in her future…” Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away from you.

“Y… Your parents couldn’t see each other in their futures?” you whispered, gears in your head turning in a rapid fire pace. Jaemin’s eyes were trained at his feet now, noticing how yours and his were inches apart before he nodded. There was a warmth spreading in your hands as you tried to digest this information. “You said you used to be able to see me in your future, though.”

“I know. I know,” Jaemin looked pained once he turned his gaze back at you, “I think when your path changed firmly,” he pressed his lips tightly together in a pause before continuing, “it… it locked us into this position.”

You froze, “what do you mean by locked?”

Jaemin’s eyes rose in surprise as your eyes flashed into a cerulean blue right before him.

“Locked… is it… do you view me being maybe your partner as a burden?” You hated that your voice sounded like a whimper, but you couldn’t help the spear of pain his wording sent to your chest.

Jaemin ignored the color change, instead leaping up from his leaning position on your bed to press both of his hands on your shoulders, “no! Not at all!”

Your face twitched, and you passed your warm hands through your hair in an attempt to cool yourself down. You could hardly decipher the feelings you had in the moment, and were struggling to mask them.

“You wouldn’t wanna be with the spawn of Satan, right?” You forced a chuckle, trying to remain collected but struggling.

“Hey… I’m lucky just to be near you. I just…. I don’t want you to feel… obligated,” Jaemin admitted. He was crushed when Mark told him that you were second guessing yourself- the thought of you being negatively affected any further because of Jaemin made him feel disgusted with himself.

You felt your body cool immediately and you sighed, “you know I’m my own person, right?’

“Of course!”

“Okay, so we can just take… that… as more of a suggestion and just… see where things go. On their own and at our own pace.”

Jaemin smiled, and you felt your chest tighten at the sheer beauty he held, “okay, I’d like that.”

“Good, now,” you lifted both your wrists, “where are my bracelets?”

Jaemin stayed quiet, and you followed his gaze past the couch and to the coffee table, choking back a gasp as you saw that they were snapped into pieces.

“After I set you into bed they basically fell apart,” he explained as you moved forward, studying them as if that would fix the problem.

“Jae-,” there was that nickname again, “I can’t control my powers and I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Jaemin pressed his lips together in a tight line, avoiding your gaze.

“You know something.”

“Yes,” he admitted, still avoiding your gaze.

“Is it something that can help me?”

Jaemin nodded, before shutting both of his eyes and forcing a vision. It was the one person on earth who could help you, and they were currently in an apartment that Jaemin had very vague memories of.

“We need to go.”

“Where?”

“To…. We need to go see your biological brother.”

Now, half an hour later, you sat uncomfortably in the living room of Kun and Jungwoo, avoiding eye contact with Sicheng as you tried to justify the random appearance.

“I told her that I was the best super smash brothers player in the area, but she swore that Kun was better. I had to come and see for myself,” Jaemin lied. You fought the urge to say that you knew for a fact could beat Jaemin’s ass in smash, but because you were grateful he thought of something mildly believable, you nodded quickly.

“Come on Kun, are you scared?” You taunted your friend, trying to play everything up.

“Kun should be- because I’m gonna beat all of you!” Jungwoo leapt up, rushing to the spare room likely to grab the consoles and controllers. Jungwoo was known to be easily distracted, so you figured he would take a bit longer than an average person to search for everything.

“Oh, Kun, could you show me where your water is? I’m a bit dehydrated,” Jaemin asked. Kun started to point to you before Jaemin nearly yanked him out of the couch, insisting that the host show him around.

Finally, Sicheng was cornered and alone in the living room. You both studied each other in a way that had never occurred, furrowing your brows and analyzing the other's features. Sicheng was always cool in your book, and closer to your other friends, but knowing that he was your biological brother added a layer of discomfort that never previously occurred. He’s known the entire time and never did a thing about it.

“You know who I am,” Sicheng wasn’t asking. He stood up from the couch and you followed suit, sending a glare to the other.

“You need to help me control my powers,” you didn’t bother asking, either. He didn’t have a choice. He held on to the fact that he was your brother for years- the least he could do was make sure you didn’t burn everything to the ground.

“Why would I do that?” Sicheng giggled, obviously not sensing the burning rage that was threatening to pour out of you. Jaemin and Kun were still in the kitchen, and you could hear Jungwoo tearing through the other room to find the game console.

You swallowed deeply before furrowing your brow and reiterating the phrase Jaemin had given to you, “I know your demon name. And I’m not afraid of saying it.”

This gave Sicheng pause, before his eyes flitted to the door of the kitchen and back to you. “Fine.”

“Tonight at one, meet me in front of the main building.”

Sicheng simply nodded, before a smirk appeared on his face.

“What?” You challenged, irritated.

“It really does pay to fuck a psychic. You give him some attention and he’ll do all the leg work for you,” he chuckled, before adding, “He has to be as shit in bed as his personality is.”

Without thinking, you wound up your fist and punched Sicheng square in the gut with every bit of physical power you had. The blow landed, causing Sicheng to grab his stomach and groan loudly, falling onto his knees.

“What the hell??” Kun and Jungwoo both appeared in the living room, confused by the site before them.

“Sicheng said he’s been constipated,” you lied, faking a smile, “I just gave him a small punch to the intestines, I think that should help him get his shit moving.”

“Oh, that never helps me,” Jungwoo mused, his hand that did not hold the console holding his side in sympathy. You could tell Kun was not fooled, but Sicheng forced himself up with a hunch.

“I’m gonna go… try to shit,” he shot you a glare before scooching to the bathroom.

“Well, we actually should get going- my dad just gave me a call,” you slinked past the confused duo, grabbing Jaemin’s arm and escaping their apartment complex.

“What actually happened?” Jaemin asked cautiously as you climbed into his car. You frowned.

“He was being a jackass.”

“I believe that. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind. He said that I was only,” you paused, and rephrased, “I was only hanging around you because you could tell me clues about the future.”

Jaemin was quiet, the only sound being from the car as you neared campus

After a while, he spoke, “you don’t have to defend my honor or anything. I know that’s not true.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve a gut punch.”

“As cool as you are, you know you can’t go around punching people.”

“I don’t like people being mean to you, even if you aren’t there,” you huffed.

“It’s okay, kind of comes with the territory of seeing the future,” you watched him force a smile as he parked his car. You knew that Jaemin was one of the few psychics left- one of three families if you could remember- he had to be used to being alone and spoken down to simply for his abilities.

“Do you ever wish you couldn’t see the future?”

Jaemin was quiet, staring blankly ahead at the car he was parked in front of. “Sometimes. But, no point in changing what I can’t. Might as well enjoy the small wins.”

“What would the small wins be?”

You watched him fight a smile, and you poked his shoulder, watching a blush creep onto his ears and cheek. “What small win are you thinking about?”

“No… Nothing.”

“Come on,” you teased, poking his now rosy cheek.

“Well, I was able to help you and… yeah, help you.”

“I like hanging out with you too, if that’s what you were going to say.”

“Are you a mind reader?” Jaemin huffed, earning a good, solid laugh from you. You kept laughing, holding your stomach to keep yourself together until eventually, Jaemin started laughing too, making you laugh even harder.

You felt safe laughing with him. He was funny without trying and judging by how he managed to help you by distracting your friends, he was reliable. Then, it hit you- you could actually see him being your soulmate. You slowed in your laughter, wiping the tears from your face as you two settled on staring at each other.

Jaemin when he was in the kitchen earlier with Kun, was running on pure adrenaline- speaking to people he knew and liked was already a challenge, but making up bullshit conversation with one of your closest friends was like he was being sent into a gym that was lit on fire. However, he was determined. So, he worked whatever charm he could muster.

“Oh she tells me you’re her TA for her statistics class- that’s great! Do you like being a TA? How did you even get that job?” Jaemin had plastered on an eager smile, holding the full glass of water Kun had awkwardly handed to him.

The older boy raised an eyebrow before politely responding with, “it’s a fine job. I just applied since the position was only open to grad students.”

“Oh cool cool cool um…” Jaemin was panicking as Kun brushed past him and moved to leave the kitchen. Jaemin spat out the first words he could string together, “I-I like her- how should I tell her?”

This gave Kun pause, and he moved back to where Jaemin was by the fridge. Jaemin was praying that a) you were almost done trying to get Sicheng to help you with your powers and b) Kun was not about to lecture him.

“How did you two even meet?” This question surprised Jaemin. What he wouldn’t give to be able to quickly check the paths and see which response would work best, but his white eye would not be helpful here to say the least.

Kun was always your most observant friend, this Jaemin knew from the few visions he did catch the man in. This question was for a few reasons, but the main one that Jaemin could guess Kun was most curious about was how Jaemin had never come up in any of his conversations with you.

“I’m another Resident Assistant, we met at an RA meeting.”

“Where?”

“What?”

“What dorm? I’m pretty sure I’ve interacted with most of the current RA’s,” Kun was looking up, clearly shuffling through his own memories.

“Oh, I… I work in the night dorm,” Jaemin puked out. This was dangerous territory, but this was better than admitting the truth and revealing the whole of the mythic existence.

“That’s cool- now how did you get that job?” Kun laughed, smiling and leaning in, “her and Mark never talk about the night students- and we’ve asked a ton.”

“Well, good to know they’re good at their jobs,” Jaemin forced a dry chuckle before pressing onwards.

“Wait, does that mean you’re a night student?” Kun asked, tilting his head. Jaemin felt dumb- that’s the most logical conclusion Jaemin’s lie could have led Kun to, and now he was going to have to try and work with the hole he dug himself into. Before Jaemin could respond, there was a loud thud that came from the living room.

Now, after the incident, Jaemin and you walked side by side through campus. It was a weekend with most students who were on campus either rushing to the library for last minute studying or leaving from there. The sun was setting, and the sky was filling with hues of pink and gold as you wandered aimlessly.

“Just a heads up, I told Kun I’m an RA for the night dorm and that’s how we met.”

“Why did you tell him how we met? Also, that’s an interesting lie.”

“He asked.”

“Did you tell him we’re dating?” You furrowed your brows.

“No.”

“Then why else would he ask?”

“Listen I had to keep him distracted,” Jaemin defended, feeling that stupid embarrassed blush rise again. He glanced over to see you staring at him expectantly before sighing and telling the truth.

You smiled, “thanks.”

“For what?”

“Just, being yourself I guess.”

That was all you could say. From him not wanting to be presumptuous or pin you in a corner by lying and saying you were dating, for being honest about his visions, and being there to help you in every way.

It didn’t take much convincing to get him to go back to your dorm with you. With just the prospect of food Jaemin had agreed without thinking twice.

“Let me help,” the psychic was standing closely beside you as you boiled the pasta and cooked the sauce.

“There isn’t much to do, Jae. It’s just pasta.”

“Jae,” he mindlessly repeated the nickname you’ve been using for him.

“Oh, sorry, is it fine that I-?”

“Yes,” he didn’t even let you finish getting the words out, and you both let out a chuckle. “Well it’s only fair that I think of one for you.”

“Oh? Well by all means go for it,” you offered before you finished cooking. How had Ten never mentioned Jaemin to you? Even if not you, it was strange for his path to never cross your brother’s at least.

You spent the time eating dinner, only occasionally adding a word or two to Jaemin’s trail of thoughts. He was vocally trying to decide on a nickname for you, all of which he either shot down himself or you would reply with a sharp no.

“Nicknames are hard,” he relented, his bowl now empty.

“You just need to let it come naturally, can’t force a nickname,” you offered. There was a lull then, and you decided to ask the question that’s been sitting in the back of your mind. “Jae? Why…” you groaned, annoyed with yourself as you tried to string together the question in a way that made sense.

“This sounds like it’s gonna be serious,” Jaemin couldn’t hide the nerves on his face, and it was impossible to fight the small smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

You shook your head, “I don’t think it is. I… I noticed that you keep dancing around Yuta. Even in your dreams in those visions, he’s there- at least I think so they’re so grainy,” you muttered the last part, now having laid your main question bare. The vampire was sweet and helpful, but the way Jaemin had spoken about him, and in the small visions you were able to witness, you knew there had to be more to the story.

You were observant, so Jaemin should have been prepared for this question. Yet, as he stared at you, he felt his own face fall into darkness. In the visions he used to see of you with Yuta, you always looked so happy- how could Jaemin possibly make you feel like that?

“Hey? Did something happen?” You asked, noting the coldness now permeating off of the psychic. Nervously, you began to speak quickly, “it's just that he explained the blue night to me and answered some questions for me. He even said he noticed my ‘smell’ on you or whatever, and helped Ten cover it up,” Jaemin’s hooded eyes were unwavering, so you continued, “I just want to know where your head is at, that’s all.”

This made Jaemin blink quickly and return from his own well of self-pity.

“In my visions of you- before I stopped being able to see them- you were always with the prince.”

It was silent between the two of you for a moment, and now it was Jaemin’s turn to continue speaking, “I was worried about… robbing you of the future I saw you having. But, the future changes… and like someone once told me,” Jaemin smiled now as you raised a questioning eyebrow, “what the hell is the point of seeing the future if you can’t stop obsessing over the past?”

You smiled, a chuckle now escaping before you asked in a teasing tone, “were you jealous of a future that won’t even happen?”

As you predicted, Jaemin’s cheeks and ears flared into the red you’ve started to find adorable, laughing loudly as he tried to defend himself, swearing up and down that that was not the case- he was just concerned is all!

Taglist! @nini0620 @enhazen @shwizhies feel free to reach out if you’d like to be added :)

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