#bash street kids
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Some Minnie x Toots stuff
I've loved this ship since I started reading the beano a few years back (2018) - and at the time I wrote a (really awful) fanfic about them on wattpad that I have since taken down lmao
Here's a drawing I did of them at the time. I have definitely improved since then.
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First issue of The Beano, with only known surviving Free Gift, offered at auction
A copy of The Beano Comic No.1 with its free gift Whoopee Mask and promotional No. 1 Flyer leads the latest Comic Book Auctions sale, online now at compalcomics.com and closing on Sunday September 1st 2024
#Amazing Fantasy#Amazing Spider-Man#Auction News#Bash Street Kids#Batman#Charley&039;s War#Charlie Pease#Comic Book Auctions#ComPal#Countdown#Dan Dare#David Sullivan#DC Thomson#downthetubes News#Dudley Watkins#Eagle#Film Fun#Frank Bellamy#Humour Comics#Joe Colquhoun#Radio Fun#Roy Wilson#Superhero Comics#The Beano#The Broons#Tom Thug#Topper#TV Express
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Odd couple
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RIP David Sutherland
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New in FA—The Comiczine: Will Morgan pays tribute to Bash Street Kids illustrator David Sutherland.
#Bash Street Kids#Beano#Biffo the Bear#Billy the Cat#David Sutherland#Dennis the Menace#Korky the Cat
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bash street kids
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i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you
#im reading that post that says artists are directors of audience reaction and not its dictator:#'you cannot guarantee that everyone viewing your work will react as you are trying t make them react. a good artist knows that this is what#allows work to breath. by definition you cannot have art where the viewer brings nothing to the table ... this is why you have to let go of#the urge to plainly state in text exactly how you think the work should be interpreted ... its better to be misinterpreted sometimes than#to talk down to your audience. you wont even gain any control that way; people will still develop their opinions no matter what you do#im thinking abt this again cuz i was thinking maybe the thing that lets adventure time work so well the way it does is cuz it doesnt#take itself too seriously that it gives the audience enough room to fuck with subtext and then fuck with them back yknow. i think it was#mentioned somewhere that they werent even planning to run with the postapocalyptic elements that are hinted in the show but changed their#mind after the one off with the frozen businessmen and dominoed into marcy and simons backstory. on the other side there are stories that#explain too much to let the story speak for itself and i think it ends up having to do more with the crew trying to lead ppl in a certain#direction than expand on what they have and i see a lot of this with miraculous. like when interviews and tweets are used as word of god in#arguments and it becomes a little stifling to play around with it knowing the creator can just interject. u can say its the crews effort to#engage with its audience but it feels more like micromanaging. and none of this is to say there ISNT room for stories that spell things out#theyre just suited for different things. if sesame street tried abstract approaches to themes and nuance itd be counterproductive#a lot of things fly over my head so i need help picking things apart to get it- but it doesnt have to be from the story itself. ive picked#picked up or built on my own interpretations listening to other ppl share their thoughts which creates conversation around the same thing#sometimes stories will spell things out for you without being so obvious abt it that it feels like its woven into the text. my fav example#for this might be ATLA using younger characters as its main cast but instead of feeling like its dumbed down for kids to understand why war#is bad its framed from a childs point of view so younger audiences can pick up on it by relating to the characters. maybe an 8 year old#wont get how geopolitics works but at least they get 'hey the world is a little more complicated than everyone vs. fire nation'. same for#steven universe bc its like theyre trying to describe and put feelings into words that kids might not have so they have smth to start with#especially with the metaphors around relationships bc even if it looks unfamiliar as a kid now maybe the hope is for it to be smth you can#look back to. thats why it feels like these shows grew up with me.. instead of saving difficult topics for 'when im ready for it'#as if its preparing me for high school it gave me smth to turn in my hands and revisit again and again as i grow. stories that never#treated u as dumb all along. just someone who could learn and come back to it as many times as u need to. i loved SU for the longest time#but i felt guilty for enjoying it hearing the way ppl bash it. bc i was a kid and thought other ppl understood it better than me and made#feel bad for leaning into the message of paying forward kindness and not questioning why steven didnt punish the diamonds or hold them#accountable. but im rewatching it now and going oh. i still love this show and what it was trying to teach me#yapping#diary
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*Slams fic down on your desk like an interrogator does a newspaper*
Absolutely phenomenal dp x dc fic. Awesome concept brilliant plot incredible execution. Pretty much The Single best supporting/mc oc I have ever encountered, such good characterisation, super interactions and relationships, we are healing and growing in this house tonight lads!!!!
#Features: jason centric! Extremely eldritch ghosts! Dan getting a second chance! No bashing or apologetics! Croc running a coffee shop!#Off screen eldritch... vore? gore? it sure is eldritch whatever it is and couldnt happen to a nicer person (or two)! Joker getting bodied!#Deaged danny and dani! Terrifying queen x that's my WIFE :D!!!#the phrase 'traumatic existential adjustment'#asexual characters! Gremlin dan! a hundred semi adopted street kids! Batman trying to become a better person! Robins getting validation!!#I CANNOT EMPHASISE ENOUGH HOW MUCH FOUND FAMILY THERE IS#dp x dc#dc x dp#danny phantom#batman#jason todd#red hood#fic rec#dc fic rec#dan phantom#if you like dp x dc you HAVE to read it plz also the actual writing skill level is really good#AND happy ending
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BEANOTOWN #3: UNO, DOS, TRES!
Pencils, inks and lettering by Jude! Script and colours by Nia (niasnook)!
#the beano#minnie the minx#roger the dodger#the bash street kids#toots pye#danny morgan#teacher#cuthbert cringeworthy#dennis the menace#comic#fan comic#webcomic
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"Down with the French" 🤣
Excerpt from this strip.
Year: 1955
Artist: Leo Baxendale
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As someone who has been a fan of the Beano since they were a little kiddo, I was really upset to hear of the passing of one of my favourite artists, David Sutherland.
His drawings and comics have a very special place in my childhood, I grew up reading the Bash Street Kids every week and collecting past comics and Beano books that he made art for.
He illustrated for the Beano for just over 60 years and his art has brought smiles to generations of kids and personally, has helped me learn to read and inspired me to create.
He was a very special man to so many people.
Source
#the beano#beano#british comics#dennis the menace and gnasher#the bash street kids#biffo the bear#comic illustrators#comic artists#david sutherland#tw death
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Dandy comic rarity offered on eBay, a special tribute to the comic’s relaunch in 2010 - and other amazing Beano and Dandy artworks, too
A very limited edition, specially printed copy of The Dandy, is up for sale, along with some amazing comic art and more
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#Allan Morley#Auction News#Bash Street Kids#Captain Hurricane#downthetubes News#Duncan Scott#Eric Roberts#Geoffrey Dickinson#GlennDundeeArt#Humour Comics#Jerry Swaffield#John Geering#Keyhole Kate#Minnie the Minx#Nigel Parkinson#Punch#Robert Nixon#The Beano#The Beezer#The Dandy#Tom Paterson#Valiant#Winker Watson
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yet another dream about killing someone and trying to cover it up.. this is normal right
#first time it was some annoying teenager (i was also a teenager) and he was being a real dick and i bashed his head in with some object#in that one there was a full investigation and the blame was being pinned on an old woman that they thought just#went crazy out of nowhere and they wanted to death sentence her and i couldn't fight for her without drawing attention to myself#so i was just trying to clear the evidence before the cops could get to it#anyway this one i just had i was a housewife with 2 kids and an abusive husband and we were on a road trip in the 70s#and we were staying at a cheap hotel when he said something and i realized i couldnt live with him anymore so i got him into the bedroom#and strangled him to death which took a lot longer than i expected#and i was trying to think of what to do with the body and what to tell the cops like if i should get rid of the body then report him missing#be like ohh i dont know what happened he said he was just going for a walk or to get some beer down the street#anyway i was thinking of that while putting off the body thing when i started going through his stuff and realized how much money he#was hiding and that made it more complicated bc how would i explain getting the money if i put it in savings or spent it??#i woke up around there but i still remember how graphic the killing was. in both these dreams actually#all those damn horror movies probably
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Joel Miller
Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)
Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse
Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.
Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]
Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.
Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.
Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)
When you find an old shirt of Mr. Miller’s lying around, you can’t resist. When he finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.
Cry, Baby
Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.
Just Peachy [anal]
Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.
Wingman (himbo!Joel crackfic)
Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.
Watch Your Mouth
Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.
Love Tap (dad!Joel)
Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.
If You Like Piña Coladas (neighbor!Joel)
You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.
My Body, His Choice [freeuse]
After a long day, Joel just needs some relief.
Who’s Your Daddy? (stepdad!Joel)
You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.
Make It Stick
Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.
Cowboy Killers
On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.
Seeing Pink [DD/LG]
Joel steals more of your innocence every day. Fortunately, you love to give as much as he loves to take.
Bucky Barnes
Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)
The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Daryl Dixon
Dead Ringer
Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.
Easy Street
You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.
Nighthawk
You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.
Cherry Pie
You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.
Walker Bait
An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.
Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk
Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.
Honey Trap
You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.
Pregnant Pause
Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.
Mr. Dixon
Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’
I’m a Good Girl, Officer!
Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.
Playing Dangerous
Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.
Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)
Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.
Best Served Cold
Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.
Coming Soon:
Bite the Bullet
Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.
Atlantic City
A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.
Requests are open!
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Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.
ANYWAYS
Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.
It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.
And he’s shirtless.
Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.
He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.
“Fucking hell,” you whispered.
The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.
Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?
A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.
And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.
“Stop, you’re too kind.”
“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.
“Some of that for me?”
“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.
“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”
He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.
“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.
“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”
“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.
“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.
“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.
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Can You Remember Who You Were?
Pairing: Dave York x f!reader
Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.
Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation
WC: 9.1K
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.
When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.
It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.
Dave, Dave, Dave.
Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.
Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.
After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.
Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.
"Promise not to steal your coffee again."
You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.
"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.
"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.
"I'm just kidding."
You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?
"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.
Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.
You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.
To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.
"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.
"No, I don't."
He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.
"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."
Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.
"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."
Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.
"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.
"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"
You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.
The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.
By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.
Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.
Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.
You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.
"I've been having dreams."
Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.
"What sort of dreams?"
You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."
Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."
"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."
"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"
Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."
"How so?"
You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.
"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."
"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"
Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"
When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.
"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.
"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.
"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.
"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."
You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.
Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.
When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.
By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.
But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.
Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.
And it frightened him.
He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.
He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.
"I should go."
You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"
Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.
As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.
Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.
It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.
On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.
"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.
"Well, what do you think happened?"
You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."
You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."
"What theory?"
"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."
One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.
Even so, you humored her and let her continue.
"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.
"Uh, can't say that I do."
"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."
"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.
"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."
"What do you mean, if it's possible?"
Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."
You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.
"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."
"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."
"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.
"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."
You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.
By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.
You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.
In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.
"Need a ride, pretty girl?"
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.
"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.
You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.
You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.
You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.
Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.
"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.
"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.
"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.
You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.
Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.
His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.
Something felt wrong.
You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?
"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."
He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.
"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."
He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.
You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.
His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"
Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.
You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.
With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.
"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.
"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.
"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."
"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."
"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."
You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.
"Would you... hurt me?"
Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.
"No," he whispered, "never."
You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.
"Then what would you do to me?"
His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.
But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.
Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.
"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.
"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.
"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.
Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.
Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.
"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."
Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.
"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.
"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.
He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.
Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.
"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.
"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.
"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.
"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.
There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.
It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.
"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"
"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.
Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.
"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"
You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.
"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.
When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.
"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.
"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.
Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.
He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.
Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.
"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.
"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."
And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.
His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.
Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.
"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.
"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."
"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.
"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.
You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.
"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.
"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.
Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.
"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.
Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.
"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.
"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.
"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.
Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.
"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.
"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.
"It's okay," you whispered softly.
There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.
Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.
With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.
"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."
He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.
"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."
You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.
"Why?"
He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.
"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.
You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.
"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.
Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.
"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.
It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.
Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.
"Dave?"
His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.
You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."
"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"
You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.
"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.
After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.
"There was something else."
You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.
"I think we had... a family."
Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.
"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."
Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.
"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."
"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.
"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.
"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"
"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.
Could you really have known one another in a past life?
You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.
Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.
Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.
You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.
"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"
"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."
Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.
"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.
"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.
"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.
The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.
"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.
"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."
"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.
"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."
You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"
You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.
"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.
"Why?"
She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.
"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"
Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."
"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"
Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.
"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.
"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."
Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.
"Where did -"
"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."
Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.
You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.
She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.
You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.
When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.
"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."
She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.
When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.
"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."
You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."
Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.
"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.
"I think I do."
A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."
You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.
"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.
But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."
#dave york x f!reader#dave york fanfiction#dave york x you#dave york smut#dave york x reader#dave york#roll a trope challenge#the equalizer 2 fanfic#the equalizer#omegaverse#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o verse#reincarnation
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