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very minor thing I still definitely deserve a medal for:
being raised catholic, and now as an adult repeatedly falling in love with characters that fandoms like to declare catholic, but still managing to reject those headcanons because at heart I'm too much of a stickler for accurate analysis to get behind them when i know the person in question is really meant to be anglican/episcopalian/whatever other flavor of christian
i am being, as the poets say, so brave about it
#i dont wanna list examples bc this is just a lil vent post im not looking to make this pop up in any tags & insult anybody#bc tbh some of the worst offenders are absolutely top-tier favorite characters of mine with woefully small fandoms#& the LAST thing i wanna do is be rude about or discourage anyone who posts about/writes for/discusses them#just because i happen to have trouble getting on board with one part of their analysis.#but it does amaze me that this Keeps happening#talk about resisting temptation#& for the record when i say 'raised catholic' i do not just mean christmas and easter catholic okay#im talking 'college was the first time in my life religion wasnt a required subject' catholic#'virtually everybody i knew as a teen went to different single-sex high schools' catholic#horrible uniforms. strict nuns. classes interrupted for masses for even the minor holidays. joined choir for something to do-catholic#as an adult i still have friends & acquaintances who work in/for churches type-catholic#my mom actively tries to hide rosary beads & scapulars in my bags & car every time i come home catholic#(i dont even think most people know what scapulars ARE for christ's sake! & if they think they do they're probably picturing the wrong one#meanwhile i've got a routine list of hiding spots to check for them before driving away)#my point is.#if it made even a scrap of sense for any of these characters to actually be catholics trust me i'd be the FIRST one saying so#bc i know i could write the SHIT out of all the angsty repressed queer guilt religious trauma stuff everyone's drawn to it for#that's like the very least i could get out of having been up to my eyeballs in it for the first two decades of my life#but 99% of the time it just doesn't track w/ what we know about them at all im sorry.#im sorry your moodboard yearns for stained glass saints#im sorry your fic hinges upon a flashback to a certain sacrament#but im just not buying it
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pregnancy was never easy. if it was, fathers could do it.
and truly it was something that toji had learned throughout being married to you and seeing your belly swell with your baby girl. the constant mood swings, back pains, cravings and all. but toji is a wonderful husband. for that, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
anything you want, you get even if your midnight cravings hit. toji will still get up and get dressed before drive to the nearest store that has your favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.
but being pregnant also means that toji has gotten far more protective than usual. more staying by your side, more checking up on you through his phone, more hiring security cameras and guards to keep you safe. despite your protests, he still thinks it’s necessary.
“sweethea—what the heck?” toji grumbles, eyes almost popping out of his sockets to see you’re not beside him. eyes glancing left and right and that’s where the panic begins to seep into him. “fuck” he scrambles out of the bed, seeing the clock hits at two am,
“no, no, no—“ he feels bead of sweats racing on his temples before slipping on his shoes and a shirt over his head. thinking that something might have happened to you.
god, i can’t go through this. not again. not you. please, please, not you.
toji may not have been the most religious man that has ever walked on earth. but he will beg on his knees and plead to the man up above to never take you away from him,
and just as he about to grab a gun off his safe, he hears the refrigerator door shut downstairs. the sounds making him halt as he quick to whip his head to the source of it.
his eyebrows then furrowed, putting the weapon down carefully before stepping out of your shared room. sometimes he curses himself for buying a home far too big because now he feels like it’s an eternity coming down the stairs. but again, he bought it for you.
the living room lights are already turned off, the only dimmed light he could see is from the kitchen. not only that, but he could hear the metals clinking. so slowly, with ever so confusion written across his face, toji approaches slowly
and there you are ever in your glory, body draped in your favorite pink silky robe sitting on the floor with your back against the fridge. a plate of not one but two red velvet cake slice in your hand as the other forks your way through the delicious treat.
toji heaves out a breathe of relief, knowing that nothing had happened to you. and the noise is loud enough for you to stop chewing and look up. eyes widen at your husband’s figure standing only a few feet away,
“hi” your voice sounds small. almost like embarrassed because you feel like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie off the jar,
“sweetheart” the nickname falls from his mouth like he’s happy to see you after being a part for so long. “what are you doing?”
your mouth slowly begin to chew, a cute smile making its way as your eyes glinting with innocence that toji can’t deny but feel like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
“the baby is hungry” is the only thing you can muster to a response, like it’s an obvious thing. “she wants cake” you giggle quietly,
oh yes, he is definitely falling harder for you again
“the baby is—“ he sighs, hands coming up to rub his face up and down. not because he’s upset but rather amused. “she wanted red velvet cake?”
“mhmm!” you nod vigorously, taking another big bite of the dessert. “and cream cheese frosting!”
and for the first time in a while, toji laughs with his head shaking at the sight of his beautiful wife eating cake at two am. “she told you that?”
“yes! i heard her whisper to me before i go to bed ‘mama.. can we eat the cake? but wait until dada goes to sleep’ because she knows how dada doesn’t allow mama to eat cakes” you smile at him, doing your best of baby voice. licking the cream off the utensil,
toji is grinning so hard he feels like his cheeks are hurting, his eyes are full of love when he looks at you and the little girl you’re growing in there,
“well dada is just taking care of mama so she will be healthy. she needs veggies and whole foods” he takes another step closer, sliding next to you. his eyes never leaving yours, looking at you so lovingly by the way you eat. “i thought something happened to you.. i was panicking”
you pout, not wanting to cause anymore distress on him. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that. but i couldn’t wake you up, you looked exhausted”
he frowns, bending his knees close to his chest. “you should’ve. i would gladly grab the cake for you hence you asked, baby” he leans forward and kiss your temple,
a grateful smile places on your lips, humming in a contentment at the feeling of his soft mouth on your skin. “hmm, i know—“ you cradle his cheek with your free palm, thumbing against his cheekbone and down to his scar.
he used to be so insecure about it until you made him not to be. giving so much praises and kisses about the scar that you think look so hot on him.
“want some?” you extend a spoonful of the cake towards his mouth, in which he opens almost immediately, biting onto the sweet goodness. “how lucky i am to have you, mr. y/l/n”
he laughs, wiping the walnut crumbs off the corner of his lips. “i should be the one saying that to you, doll”
maybe second chances do exist. and it’s a privilege for a person to earn one. toji may had done very questionable things in the past that would make a person think twice in befriending him, let alone married to him but change is real.
and the flaws are what makes it him. it’s one of the reason you are drawn to this beautiful man. because despite every negative seed he may have in him, he still tries. trying and trying to be the person you deserve and the father that your baby girl deserve.
it upsets you to no end knowing that everyone can’t see that. they just see him as a cold, reserved, selfish man who keeps himself closed from the world to see. they don’t see the tears he had shed almost every night for failing to be perfect, they don’t see him having a small banter with you because he wanted to take your last name, they don’t see the amount of times he locked himself in his room because of people talkinh, they don’t see him always rushing out of his office on fridays because he wants to get home before you do just so he can cook your favorite dish,
they don’t see all of that but toji doesn’t care. he doesn’t need their validation nor approval. he just needs yours.
because it’s you he always comes home to. you are his salvation. you are his peace. you are his dream came true.
you, you, you, you.
before you could protest, he presses his lips against yours and move his hand down to your bump,
“happy doesn’t even begin to describe how grateful i am to be your husband”
#lmao idk how it got from pregnancy cravings to angst#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro fluff
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I choose you and me religiously - joshua hong imagine
istg every love song i hear, he's the only one i can think of. i'm in my joshua brain rot era and i'm loving every second of it😭😭
for my other joshua fics, check them here
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All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)
"This is so not fair"
"What?" your boyfriend blinks back at you with his doe eyes, knowing full well what this does to you
"You can't use that every time you're trying to win, Josh" you grumble, hitting him playfully with a pillow. He blocks it with his arm, laughing at your annoyed but cute expression, clearly he's having more fun than you.
There are so many things Joshua does that makes your knees go weak. The moment you met him you knew you were in deep deep trouble. It was hard not to get swayed while staring in his eyes when they say so much.
Even before, you can never keep eye contact with him because if you do you'd end up a blushing mess. His eyes confessed to you first, and you stared right back getting lost along side him.
Your relationship with him is like those cliche movies and cute scenes in books you only dreamt of happening to you, then along came him and made those into reality.
Like how can you not think he's the cutest human ever when he made a beaded bracelet with his number on it and gave it to you because he was too shy and too much of a gentleman to ask, how he held pinkies with you on your first date while walking around the park, or how he giggled (yes, this man straight up giggled) the first time you kissed.
Every thing he does is an arrow shot straight to your heart. He might not be aware of it but he got you on the palm of his hand. You can't even argue with him because the moment you see his sad eyes and pouty lips, you're already waiving the white flag.
You thought it would be scary for someone to have this much power over you, but not Joshua. He's honest, gentle and kind through and through. In a world of boys, he really is the gentleman.
He never did anything to make you feel uncomfortable or angry or upset, sure there are little arguments here and there but he will never let a day end without making sure you two are okay.
Most often you would say he's too kind for this world, all you get is a shake of his head and a smile. It's just who is he is. Not a single mean bone in his body. You would fight the world for him, always his number one defender and he loves that about you.
Why would he care if the world was mean to him when he got you on his side?
That's all that matters to him anyways.
"Do you ever get angry?" you ask
"Of course, I do" he answer with a chuckle, prompting you to raise your brow at him
"I've never seen you angry, is that a bad sign? They say you should see your partner angry to see that side of them or whatnot"
"I just never find any reason to be. I feel upset, I do. But then I resolve it. It takes too much energy to be angry, life's too short for that don't you think"
"Okay but like what if someone insults you?" you prod
"Do they know me?" he asks back "Just hypothetically"
"But like what's the scenario" "Oh come on, indulge me for a moment will you" you say, getting annoyed at your boyfriend but he just laughs. You always look cute when he annoys you, wishing he could keep you in his pocket all the time.
"Okay let's change it then, let's say we're walking out at night and someone says something about me-" "Well that's different, darling. They won't even finish the sentence, I'm already walking up to them" he cuts you off, even though it's just a made up scenario he already feels a bit mad at the thought of someone disrespecting you
"And what? Fight them?"
He doesn't say anything for a while, staring back at you like he's making you read his mind. Then he pulls you by the arm until you're cuddled against him.
"They can hurt me any way they want, I can handle that. But you, I'd lose my mind if anything happens to you. I can't even imagine it, it's making me mad"
Looking up at him, you see the change in his expression "Oh love, I didn't mean to upset you. Sorry" you mumble, smoothing the crease in between his brows
"No need to be sorry, it's the truth. I treat you with nothing but love and respect, I can't have some stranger treat you any less"
Your lips immediately form a pout when you hear his words. Your sweet sweet boy.
"You really love me huh" you whisper
He looks down at you, his expression quickly changes when he sees your cheeks squished against his chest and the cute pout on your lips. Like a little cute dumpling.
Leaning down to give your cheek a few pecks, "A little bit more than how much you love me"
You laugh at that, you never doubted your feelings about him. You know you love him so much, every single cell in your body knows that. "Sounds impossble"
"Oh you disagree? Lovely, we can sit here all day and talk about all the things I love about you. I can go on and on and on"
"Okay okay fine I get it, I thought you don't like arguing" you tease him
"I like arguing with you like this because I know I'll win"
"Okay Mr. Confident"
"I'm only telling the truth. Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong" this time he's he one teasing, knowing full well you're weak for his stare
"Not fair, you can look at me and I'd say yes to anything"
"Anything?"
You pinch his side, earning a yelp and a laugh from your boyfriend. Then he hugs you again, holding your hand his time so you don't get any ideas.
"Want to know something? I feel the same, the moment you looked at me I knew I was going to be yours for the rest of this lifetime" he whispers
He tucks your hair behind your ears to see you eyes more, leaning down again to give your nose a peck "You had me the moment we met"
You smile at him before stretching your head to meet your lips with his, feeling him smile during the kiss. You don't say anything, you just let him feel all the emotions that are too big for any word in any language.
Exchanging I love you's through kisses.
#fic#tags#seventeen#seventeen joshua#seventeen scenario#seventeen au#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt#svt fic#svt x reader#joshua hong#hong jisoo#joshua imagine#joshua scenario#joshua au#joshua boyfriend#svt boyfriend
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Religious Corruption: No Sweeter Innocence
Professor!Dave York x Virgin!F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 27.8k
Warnings: Religion kink, corruption kink, innocence kink, age gap, unbalanced power dynamic, grooming (?), professor/student relationship, blasphemy, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), panty kink, exhibitionist kink(?), oral sex (make receiving), filthiness with rosary beads, desecration of Holy spaces, daddy kink, baby/little girl pet names, spanking, orgasm denial, loss of virginity, explicit photo without consent, vaginal sex, cum swallowing, mentions of analingus, face sitting, pussy spanking, unprotected sex, angst, heartbreak, controlling parents, arranged marriage, children, mentions of pregnancy.
Comments: Incoming freshmen are innocent, especially at St. Brennans Catholic College. Religious Studies with a handsome professor proves distracting. A man who enjoys your innocence and has every intention of corrupting you.
Co-written with @pedropascalsx
!!Additional Warning!! - 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.
You brush the front of your blazer and fix the hemline of your skirt. Fighting the temptation to check with a ruler that it’s at least two inches before the knees as required.
It had been a long summer, and you were ready to start your first year at college and dive into your classes.
And whilst St. Brennans Catholic College wasn’t your first choice, you knew your parents were making the right one by insisting you went there. Following in their footsteps and hopefully meeting your future husband in bible study as your parents did many years before.
A new year. Fresh minds to educate, to mould. Dave watches with an amused eye as nervous students file into his lecture hall, skittish and unused to the freedoms that they are now experiencing. Some of them are away from home and hearth for the first time. Narrowing his gaze on a few as he predicts who will be the troublemakers and who will ultimately drop the class before midterms.
You shuffle into the hall with your head buried in the textbook you had been instructed to buy for this class.
Religious Studies with Professor D. York.
You take the first seat you can find and settle down as comfortably as you can, before reaching into your bag and pulling out your notebook and pencil case. The sound of shoes scuffing against the polished hardwood floor makes you shudder, before the sound of a throat being cleared echoes throughout the hall. And that’s when you look up and see him.
The first day of class is always daunting for some, exciting for others. It's always interesting to see who falls into which category. The ones that are already prepared make him smirk slightly, twisting to point back at the large whiteboard the department had insisted on replacing his chalk board with. "This is Religious Studies and I am Dave York." He announces in a clear voice, wanting those on the back row to hear him. "If you are not supposed to be here, leave now." Silence amplifies the shuffling of papers and the creaking of chairs as they all try to get comfortable.
"Good." He huffs, clicking on the projector so that the introduction slide comes up. "My office hours are Monday through-"
You listen as he starts to talk and you feel a flood of guilt course through your veins as you find yourself focusing less on what he’s saying and more on the way his broad shoulders strain the material of his shirt.
You feel your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you force your eyes away from his frame, and that’s when he catches your line of sight. You’re not sure if you imagined it or not but you swore he was looking deep into your soul and you could feel the moment your heart stuttered in your chest. And then he simply cleared his throat, looked away and continued on…
Leaving you sitting there flustered and unaware of if you imagined the whole thing. Your eyes flicker around the room as you try to gauge if anyone was looking at you or seemed just as taken back as you currently were.
But everyone was either staring directly at him or desperately scrambling to note down every world that was spilling out of his mouth.
Dave smirks slightly, watching her squirm in her seat, sensing immediately that she's innocent. Perfect and untouched. Her flustered expression amuses him and he can imagine those eyes wide and glassy as she looks up at him, leaning into his hand at her jaw.
"Everyone fill out your survey that is at your seat. It's that you remember to put your school email not whatever gmail - 'pimp4life' account you use." There is a nervous round of chuckling and he lifts a brow. "I'm serious. That was one student's email that he wanted to use. Needless to say, he transferred out."
You write down your assigned email address as neatly as you can. Focusing on anything and everything but the man stood in front of you and the other 50 people in your class.
‘Shoot’ you think to yourself as you realise that you’re going to be spending 2 hours a day 5 times a week in this room staring at him.
Dave drones on, talking about the course material and the syllabus, watching as some students frantically scribble and others are lost to the haze of realising ‘how much work’ is involved with college. Still, his eyes come back to her. Watching, assessing.
Every time he looks in your direction, you swear you can feel him everywhere. The intense gaze of his eyes seems to burrow under your skin and spread throughout your body.
You try to ignore the way you feel a pulse down there, but the more he looks your way the stronger it grows.
You gently clutch at the cross draped around your neck and silently chide yourself and will yourself to be a good girl.
She’s the one. Dave hums to himself when he sees her flutter her lashes and look down at the paper in front of her. Close enough that he can see the way her thighs squeeze together. “We’re going to start out with the seven deadly sins.” He announces with a grin. “Starting with everyone’s favourite. Lust.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as the word lingers in the air ‘lust,’ that's exactly what this is you tell yourself.
Just a silly school girl crush. You’re in a new town filled with people you don’t know and this is just a silly little crush that you’ll be over by next period.
The rest of the time goes smoothly, his eyes flickering back to her several more times as he lectures. He checks his watch and sighs. “For tonight. Your homework -“ he holds up his hand as a collective groan rolls through the room. “Your assignment is to write about what you think lust is. Give an example of it. A book, a movie - not 50 Shades of Grey. Give me good examples of displays of lust.” He raises his voice higher to be heard as people start to shuffle.
You feel heat rise in your chest as he announces the assignment. ‘An example of a display of lust’… “Shit,” you mutter under your breath before internally scolding yourself for cursing. How could you possibly turn in this assignment when you’ve never in your life seen a movie that wasn’t ‘G’ or ‘PG’ rated.
Every reading material you’ve ever read has been approved of by your parents and the parental controls on your cell phone have prevented you from ever accidentally stumbling across something you shouldn’t.
“If you have any questions or concerns, stop by my office in Eaton Hall.” Dave reminds them as the bell rings and he watches the mass of bodies swell towards the door.
You quickly gather up your things but not before jotting down the location of his office in your diary.
He hadn’t shared his school email address with the class yet, so you’d have to swing by and ask him for it. You allow yourself one last glance in his direction before heading to the door, by the end of next period you’ll be laughing at yourself for being so affected by him.
Your next class goes by a lot smoother, you really like your English literature professor and you even consider going down and asking for her suggestions on some material that could help for Professor York’s assignment before deciding otherwise.
And ultimately you decide to skip swinging by his office as well. Instead you make your way to the school library. You’re more than capable of finding something with a good example of ‘lust’ in the library. You don’t need your parents approval, you can simply go in and find something appropriate with a steamy kiss.
*
You find yourself pulling at your blazer as you stand outside his office, ‘what was I thinking?’ you think to yourself after your failed visit to the library.
A book with a ‘good example of lust’ in a library of a privately owned catholic college? You take a deep breath before finally knocking on the large wooden door in front of you, the plaque bearing his name right in your eye line as you do so.
“Come in.” Dave calls, reading through the scriptures that he had pulled for the lecture. Looking up, there’s an immense sense of satisfaction in seeing you poke your head through the door. “Come in.” He waves his hand to motion you inside.
“Hello, Professor York,” you manage to stutter out. You purposely avoid making eye contact with him and instead find yourself focusing on the large wooden globe situated at the end of his desk, “I was hoping to get your email address, I have a few things that I need to discuss with you in regards to the assignment you set earlier.”
You continue to tug on the sleeve of your blazer, the feeling of his dark eyes burn into you sending a shiver down your spine.
“Sit down.” His nostrils flare slightly but he looks welcoming and he leans towards you over his desk. “What are your concerns?” He asks, reaching for a card with his email address and phone numbers on it to push across the grain of the wood.
“Oh, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you shrug before giving him a shy smile, “I can just email you.”
“Sit.” His voice deepens slightly, taking on a sterner tone. The smile makes his cock twitch but he ignores it for now.
You nod your head and take a seat, making sure to cross your legs as tightly as you can as you do so. “I am just… unsure of what material to use for your assignment,” you say, your voice thick with innocence as you attempt to keep your composure.
You stare down at your hands that are resting in your lap, “I-uh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything and I’ve never read anything that would be suitable… and we didn’t have cable growing up so I can’t think of a TV show either.”
Dave’s eyes widen slightly and he hums as he leans back in his chair. Perfect. “Sheltered, hmm?” He asks, tilting his head. “You never read or watched anything when you slept over at someone’s house?”
“I wasn’t allowed to have or go to slumber parties,” you admit with a shrug, “My parents had me lead bible study at weekends.”
His eye twitches and his hand flexes slightly. “Nothing at all.” He muses to himself and his eyes drag up and down your frame as he watches you.
You feel yourself growing more and more embarrassed as he stares down at you. “Maybe you could suggest something? I have two free periods after lunch so I could go to the bookstore or rent a movie?”
His lips curl up slightly and he lifts a brow at your brashness. Not what he expected from the daughter of the cloth. “I can lend you something.” He decides, pushing his chair back from the desk and standing to move past you to the bookshelf that lines the northern wall of his office.
“Thank you,” you mumble as you watch him approach the bookshelf, he’s quiet and he picks up a few books, studies them before putting them back down. Slowly he turns around and looks you up and down with a smirk spreading across his face.
Rubbing the cover of the book, he walks over to you to lean on the edge of his desk and hands it to you. “This should be familiar to you.” He offers, watching as you take the book and read the cover.
You read the title out loud and shake your head, “I’m sorry, sir, I’ve never read this one,” you say innocently.
He chuckles before reaching out and turning the book in your hands and you whisper the title out loud “The Art of Masturbation.”
“The concept. Not the book itself.” Dave huffs, amused at how you are pressing your knees together and your fingers fidget around the spine of the book.
“I-uh, I…” you stammer before shaking your head and thrusting the book back towards him. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I don’t know about any of that.”
“Well I’ll be…” Dave breaks off the curse, his entire body lighting up and he pushes the book back towards you. “Take it back to your room and read it.” He insists, his voice low as he rumbles out the words.
Your fingers linger in mid air for a few seconds as you contemplate rejecting his offer and asking for something different, but the way he looks at you, stirs something up inside of you that makes you want to please him. So you reach out and you take it, giving him a soft smile and an appreciative ‘thank you’.
Dave watches you for another moment and nods. “Do you have any more questions?” He asks you softly.
“No thank you,” you say before putting the book and his business card in your backpack, “Thank you again. I’ll read it tonight.”
You stand up and walk to the door, reaching for the handle before he calls your name. You turn around and blink innocently at him. “Bring the book back tomorrow during office hours.” He tells you, pinning you with another stare.
“Yes, sir,” you reply with a nod, giving him another polite smile before slinking out of the door.
The second the door closes behind you, you let out the inhale you didn’t realize you were holding in. You slowly pull on the straps of your backpack, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that everyone somehow knows what’s nestled in there.
You walk as fast as you can back to your dorm, deciding that you’ll just make a sandwich once you’re home and feeling grateful that you have no more classes until tomorrow.
Dave watches the door long after you’ve gone. He had pulled your introduction paper as soon as you had dropped it on his desk after the lecture and looked at your file. Learning that you were the daughter of clergy. Not Catholic of course, but you had been raised in the church. So it makes sense that you are as innocent as you appear. Which makes you exactly what he’s looking for.
The moment you get back into your dorm, you free yourself of your backpack and go straight towards your mini fridge. Pulling out a water and the ingredients to fix yourself a sandwich.
Armed with your water and your sandwich you make your way towards your bed, your eyes immediately landing on your backpack.
You make yourself comfortable and pull open your bag, reaching in and pulling out the book Professor York had just loaned you and you slowly open the cover. Taking a deep breath before reading the first page.
*
Dave waits for you to come into the classroom, sensing when someone opens the door and files inside. Eyes flickering over to see if it’s you before looking back down at his lesson notes. He wants to see your reaction, to see how you had absorbed the book he had given you.
You watch every step you take as you enter the room, making your way towards the same seat you had been sitting in 24 hours before.
Reaching down you pull out your notebook and pencil case from your backpack, your fingertips grazing the book he’d loaned you as you do so and you find yourself whipping your head around to make sure no one could see into you bag and see the material that had made you drip your arousal into your panties.
The book that has made you push your fingers into your plain white cotton panties and press them against that spot that you know you shouldn’t touch, lingering there for a few seconds before you came to your senses and pulled it away. Hearing the sound of your mother telling you that ‘the lord is always watching’ ring out continuously in your ears as you attempt to push away the guilt.
There’s a sense of extreme satisfaction in your demure, flustered appearance today. His cock is half hard as he imagines you touching yourself while reading. Or maybe you had put the book away and huddled under your covers while you had your hand in your panties. Wondering if they are wet right now. Clearing his throat, he gathers the class’s attention. “What is lust?” He asks, looking around expectantly.
“What is lust?” His words feel like a punch to the throat.
You find yourself sinking into your seat, desperate to shrink yourself and finding yourself praying to the lord he doesn’t call on you.
It's your second day of college and you feel as though you’ve committed more sin in the past 24 hours than you have in your whole life.
‘What is lust?’ you think again to yourself. Lust is staring at the wide expanse of your professors shoulders and wanting nothing more than to feel the warm skin that covers them. Lust is wanting to put the same lips you use dutifully in prayer on his and taste his mouth. Lust is wanting to put the same hands that you use to recite the rosary on the beads you carry everywhere with you on his body. Lust is sitting in a room full of people and feeling the small damp patch on your panties grow larger and wetter as the seconds tick by.
No one answers the question so Dave continues. “The dictionary defines lust as a ‘very strong sexual desire’.” He lectures. “But what does religion tell us about lust?”
“It’s a sin,” someone calls out from behind you and you fight the urge to chuckle.
“In most western religions, yes.” Dave answers, chuckling slightly. “But why Is it a sin? Can anyone answer that? According to the Bible?”
“It’s immoral,” you answer, surprising yourself as the sound of your own voice fills the room, “It defiles you. Leads you towards the temptations that strip you of your virtue, the ones that can make you impure.”
“Virtue, purity, defilement.” Dave hums looking around the hall and waiting for anyone else to pitch their theories. “Lust is a sin because it is selfish. It is greedy.” He lectures. “To lust is to solely focus on the desires of you alone.”
You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you start to scribble down his words. You desperately avoid looking directly at him and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together so tightly that it hurts. ‘Why would he start with this?’ you think. It feels like a form of torture.
“Sexual desire is natural, so what is the difference between lust and attraction?” Dave poses, watching you bend over your notebook and write furiously. “Because if attraction is the same as lust, we are all damned.”
You look up from your notepad and find your eyes immediately burning into his. A heat floods your body as you feel your breath hitch.
It’s only the second day, and you’re so screwed.
The lecture goes on, Dave posing questions, encouraging the class to engage. To talk and debate. Still he watches you, enjoying the way that your breathing hitches and your eyes widen every time he looks at you. He continues on until the bell rings. “Turn in the papers on my desk!” He calls out.
You steady your breath as you walk down the stairs towards his desk, placing the paper upside on the already large stack on his desk. You sneak a glance at him engaging in conversation with another student before following the rest of your peers out of the room.
Your next class is only a few minutes from the lecture hall he teaches in so you make a beeline towards the bathrooms, hastily slamming the door behind you and heading into the first empty stall.
You cringe as you see your slick coating your thighs, and hastily clean yourself up the best you can before heading over to the sink and splashing cold water on your face.
“Pull yourself together,” you murmur into the mirror before heading out to your next class. In just over an hour you’ll need to swing by his office and return his book and you’re determined to not let him show how much he affects you.
Dave sits in his office, waiting. He’s read through the papers and some of them are laughable, making him wonder what kind of education these kids receive. He’s always argued against sheltering, because they are unprepared when they step out into the world. An oxymoron when he stops to think about it.
Dave likes innocence. Loves it. Craves corrupting it like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. Enjoys the moulding of someone pure and innocent and exposing them to pleasure. It was a sin, yes, but he wasn’t a priest.
Your paper was saved for last. Savouring it as he reads your innocent words. Imagining you writing them while your panties are getting wet. You had shifted today and he had seen a flash of white. The symbol of purity and chastity. Making him imagine them covered in your sweet arousal as you rub your thighs together in class.
Reaching down, he adjusts his cock, pushing his erection under his waistband. Looking at the clock, he smirks when there is a timid knock. “Enter.”
You push away the anxiety rising in your chest as you reach down to touch the brass doorknob and slowly begin to turn it.
You don’t make eye contact with him, instead you immediately pull your backpack off your shoulders and start to rummage through it and pull out the book he had loaned you.
You take a few tentative steps towards his large oak desk and place the book down and slide it towards him, “Thank you, Sir,” you say before looking up at him, “I hope the essay was up to your standard.”
Dave looks at the book and then he slides his eyes up your body to look into yours. Embarrassment and shame shine in them, like a beacon to anyone who knows what to look for. His brow lifts and he taps the cover. “Did you find anything useful in there?” He asks huskily.
You take a small step backwards and give him a slight nod, “Yes, Professor York,” you say quietly before thanking him for loaning you the book.
He huffs, shaking his head and leans back in his chair, rocking it slightly. “Call me Dave.” He orders. “You can talk to me about anything here. You had said you are…sheltered.”
“I-uh, grew up in the church,” you say before pulling on your sleeve, “My father is a clergyman and my Mom met him through bible study here at St Brennans.”
You sit down on the seat next to you and continue pulling at your sleeves, “Hard not to be sheltered when your parents don’t let you think for yourself.”
“Hmmmm.” Dave nods, aware of your background and he tilts his head down so that he looks at you from under his lids. “And after reading the book last night, did you touch yourself?”
You feel heat rising in your cheeks at his question, the urge to run for the door and back to your dorm flooded through you before you finally gave a noncommittal shrug.
With your eyes focusing solely on your hands in your lap and your voice barely higher than a whisper you reply, “I… I tried.”
“You….tried…” Dave huffs and shakes his head, enjoying your frustration. He waits a beat and lets you stew. “Spread your legs. Right now.” He orders you. “Show me your panties.”
A shocked giggle falls from your lips, “Sorry?” you ask, convinced you must have misheard what he said… there is no way.
Dave huffs again, leaning forward and bracing his arm on his desk. “Show. Me. Your. Panties.” He orders slowly. “Now.” He can tell you heard him the first time, but he’s enjoying the way your eyes widen with shock. No one has ever told you to spread your legs before and he likes that.
You know he heard it, the way your breath hitched before you swallowed hard. You don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to say no to this man, all you want to do is please him.
So you slowly reach down and wrap your fingertips down on your hemline, slowly pulling up your regulated uniform skirt, inch by inch.
His eyes darken, pupils expanding as you slip your skirt up over your skin. Revealing the innocent white of the plain cotton panties. “Spread your legs.” He orders, voice deeper - almost growling.
You immediately comply, your hands coming down and resting on your thighs as you pray he can’t see the damp patch on your panties.
You feel yourself squirm against the seat as your professor silently stares at you from across his desk.
His cock presses against his trousers and he breathes out slowly, feeling the tension mounting in the room as you wait for him to react. “You’re wet, aren’t you, little girl?”
The word gets lodged in your throat and you can only just bring yourself to nod. Heat courses through your veins as you get more and more flustered under his stare.
“Mmmhmmm.” Dave lets the silence settle, listening to you breathe. Letting you watch him stare at your panties, imagining the sweet, untouched cunt underneath. He wonders if you shave or trim. Probably think it’s sinful to do so. His eyes flicker back up to your wide ones. “Come here.”
A shaky breath fills the room as you slowly stand up, the material of your skirt falling back down beneath your knees as you take a very slow step towards him. Each step feels heavy with anticipation as you round his desk and make your way in front of him.
“Good girl.” He can see the way that your skin is raised in goosebumps and he turns in his chair to face you, to let you see the bulge in his slacks where he is straining against them. “Since you couldn’t finish yourself-“ Dave smirks and glances down at your now covered panties. “Do you want me to show you how? To touch yourself, how you should be touched?” He asks softly. “To see how you should be creaming those panties of yours?”
Your thighs press tightly against each other as you squeeze your eyes shut. Each word dripping from his mouth seems to go straight to that bundle of nerves that you briefly touched last night.
His words replay over in your head, as a whole bunch more from other people crash into the forefront of your brain, ‘satan's doorbell… god is ALWAYS watching… it’s a test from the lord himself, one he gave us all to see if we could resist temptation and remain on the path with the righteous…’
You were a good girl, you knew what path your parents expected you to take and you knew that you were at this specific college for a specific reason but you couldn’t help it, the word drifted from your lips so effortlessly, it put up no resistance and it bounced off the walls so perfectly, “yes.”
Exhaling slowly, a grin of triumph crosses his face, reaching out slowly and taking hold of your side to pull you towards him. Spreading his legs wide to let you step between them, he savours the moment. Right now you are still innocent. Never having felt the touch of a man and it will be him that touches you. “Good girl.” He groans. “I’m going to teach you to enjoy it. It’s going to feel so good, baby girl. Show me your panties again.”
You begin to inch up your skirt again, quicker this time, your hands trembling with nerves as you bunch the plaid material up just above the little pink bow on the front of your panties.
Dave hums, his fingers sliding over your waist to grip it and he leans forward, pressing his aquiline nose against your untouched cunt and inhales, drinking in the scent of your arousal.
You gasp as you feel the heat of his breath coat your panties, your hands grip the edge of his desk as you attempt to hold yourself still.
You look down at him and see his eyes burning up into yours as a devilish smirk engulfs his face, without another word he takes a deep inhale.
“Innocent.” He murmurs to himself. “You should always wear white panties.” He says louder, sliding his finger along the edge. “Only white.”
“I would do anything you say,” you reply, lost in the haze and the spell he has you under.
For the first time in your life, you are letting the want that you had become an expert in repressing free. Your mouth wasn’t echoing the words that had been placed there by other people, it was freeing the ‘yeses’ and the soft sweet noises that always threatened to choke you as you swallowed them down dry.
Dave is pleased, turning you around and pulling you down onto his lap. Letting the hardness of his cock press against your ass. “Good girl.” He coos into your ear, hands sliding up your thighs. “Open for me, little girl. Let daddy rub your clit for you.”
You’re so pliant for him, and you let him mould your body onto his. You feel yourself flush when you feel the hardness of his cock against your ass, you wonder what it looks like… whether he’ll show you or tell you to touch it.
You spread your legs and bury your teeth into your bottom lip as his fingers brush against the waistband of your panties.
“Hmmm so warm.” He teases, feeling the heat radiating off of you. He knows you’ve stared at his hands, he watched you today in class. So you are visualising it as your eyes close. “Ah, ah, ah.” He chides. “Eyes open for daddy, little girl. You enjoy me touching your little pussy.”
You open your eyes and look down at his fingers pushing into your panties, your legs widening as he pushes lower. Arousal is dripping out of your slit and down your legs and part of you is nervous about how he’ll react to just how wet you already are.
Dave groans into your ear, fingers sliding through your shorter curls and he cups your cunt possessively, feeling how you soak his palm. Your little mewl of bewilderment and pleasure spurs him on. “You should have called me last night.” He whispers into your ear, circling your folds with his finger. “I would have shown you then so you didn’t have to go to bed so worked up. Poor, innocent thing. Daddy would have taken care of you.”
Words continue to fail you as soft moans slip out through your pretty mouth, you can’t put into words how good it feels but you know you never want him to stop.
You never knew it could feel this good, you had allowed yourself to gently press your fingers across your clit a few times but it never felt this good.
Dave moans in your ear when he finally touches your clit. That responsive little button that makes you jump in his arms and a soft moan pour out of your lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” He hums, his hand moving your panties as he starts rubbing your clit.
“Don’t stop,” you whimper as he lights the most delicious flame in your core, his thick digits getting to know your body better than you do, better than you ever have.
“I’m not going to.” He chuckles in your ear. “Not until this pussy is spasming for me. Cumming all over these panties.”
Your hips start rocking as his fingers rub perfect circles into your clit, your neck rolls back as pleasure pumps throughout your whole body. You feel your nipples harden and your pelvic muscles clench as he continues his delicious assault on your body.
“Please,” you start to murmur over and over again, not quite surely what you’re begging for but finding yourself unable to stop.
“Shhhhhhh shhhhhh.” Dave shushes you, knowing that the school wouldn’t be happy if he was found with his hand in a student’s panties. Although that was some of the thrill. “Just let daddy take care of you. You’re gonna cum, sweet girl. All over my hand, aren’t you? Your pussy’s gonna feel so good.”
His finger presses harder, makes tighter circles and he wants to cup your tits but there’s time for that later. He’ll show you how to play with your tits and soak your panties from playing with your nipples alone. He has so many plans for you.
You feel something glorious build inside of you, it’s almost overwhelming but at the same time you want more. The metallic taste of blood floods your tastebuds and you dig your teeth so hard into your lower lip that it draws blood.
He plays your body so effortlessly, ripping pleasure from you like it was what he was made to do. Soft whimpers escape you and the sound of his fingers rubbing against yours soaking wet pussy fills the room.
“Do you hear that?” he grunts in your ear and you just moan his name in response, “Daaave.”
His pace on your clit becomes faster and faster as your moans become breathier and breathier, “Oh my G—” you start to gasp, but he grabs you by the jaw and silences you, gritting in your ear that the only person's name you’re allowed to moan is his.
Dave watches you, keeping his fingers moving over your clit. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks harshly.
You whimper a small moan in response, feeling the band you didn’t know that existed inside of you grow more and more taunt; the band ready to snap inside of you.
And then he stops… “Use. Your. Words.” He punches out in short sharp breaths.
“Yes sir,” You moan out, ready to beg him to move his fingers again.
Dave waits a few beats, letting you calm down to the point where he will have to wind you up again. You whimper and he chuckles, starting to rub your clit again slowly.
Your thighs start to shake, and you start to tremble as you chant his name. “I’m gon- I think- I” you stutter out before your body begins to convulse, his words become incoherent as white explodes behind your eyes and pleasure rips throughout your body.
His fingers keep rubbing those perfect circles into you as you come down from your high, the overstimulation makes you wince and you place your hand over the top of his, “Dave,” you murmur, unsure what you’re trying to say.
His cock is throbbing against your ass and he hums, finally taking mercy on you and pulling his fingers out of your panties. His finger is coated in your slick and he smirks, knowing you will be scandalized when he tastes you.
You watch with wide eyes as he sinks his fingers that are dripping with your arousal in his mouth. ‘Oh’ you mumble as he closes his eyes as he sucks every last drop of your arousal clean from his fingers.
“How do I taste?” you whisper as he opens his eyes and slowly removes his fingers with a loud pop.
“Sweet.” Dave smirks, sliding his hand back into your panties to gather more. “Like honey. Do you want to taste, little girl? Taste your own pussy?”
You shake your head, “I-uh- I should go.”
Frowning, Dave pulls back slightly and pins you with a searching stare. “You don’t have to go.” He is annoyed that you want to leave and his hand cups your cunt again. “Stay.”
“I can’t,” you whisper, looking away from and trying to keep the shame that’s threatening to consume you at bay, “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
Dave huffs, pulling his hand out of your panties and he drops his other from your waist. “Fine.” His tone drops flat, no emotion in it.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur as you scramble to your feet.
Dave calls your name sharply. Watching as you slowly turn around and face him. Mortification is written on your face and he lifts a brow. “Leave your panties.”
“What?” you choke out, “What do you mean?” you feel yourself getting flustered under his stare, “I have my first bible study in a half hour… I don’t have time to go back to my dorm and get another pair.”
“Then go without.” Dave tells you, smirking slightly.
“You want me to… to give you my panties?” you ask again.
“Yes.” He frowns at you. “Are you having a hard time understanding me? Take off your panties and put them in my hand.”
You nod your head a few times before hiking up your skirt and gripping on the waistband of your panties, your fingers linger against the elastic for a few seconds before you begin to roll them down past your thighs and push them down until they pool at your feet. You step out of them and quickly bend down to collect them, your fingers brushing against the damp patch as you begin walking back over to Dave and placing them in his outstretched hand.
“Good girl.” Dave coos, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot and looking down to see the cream you’ve smeared over the liner. “Now you can go.”
“Oh-okay,” you stutter as you stumble towards the door, “Goodbye Mr Yo— Dave.”
You close the door behind you, and you swallow hard. Trying not to draw any attention to yourself as you make your way through the busy hall and onto your bible study session.
The urge to keep walking past the door as you approach the library that your study is being held in boils in your tummy, but you figure that it’s best not to miss your first session. So you brush down your uniform and plaster your kindest smile across your face as you make your way over to the table that has your study group number on it.
A few students are already sitting on the table, engaging in small talk as you approach. You wait until they’ve finished chatting before telling them your name and taking a seat. Pressing your legs together as tightly as you can as you pull your chair under the table.
The session goes by pretty quickly. One of the girls insisted that everyone share their favourite passages and then quizzed them as to why. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at her, you recognize her as the overeager girl from Professor York's class.
You say your goodbyes as the session nears an end but not before scribbling down the proposed date of your next meeting.
Just as you start to head out you hear her call your name and this time you do roll your eyes.
“You’re in Professor York's class right?” she asks whilst looking you up and down, “He’s a little… intense, right? I heard that as the weeks go on the amount of people that survive his teaching method gets smaller and smaller.”
“Oh,” you reply, attempting to sound interested, “Good to know I guess.”
“Yeah,” she says with a smirk, “I just think sometimes it’s best for certain people to drop out before it becomes clear when a professor is clearly too… blunt for what they can handle. Just some friendly advice. See you Friday.”
You scoff at her as she pushes on ahead of you and you shake your head thankful the day is over and feeling ready to get back to your dorm, eat dinner and have an early night.
It has been an interesting day to say the least.
*
Dave picks up his phone, reaching up to take his reading glasses off and give his eyes a break as he sees the notification from a number already programmed into his phone. Your number.
Opening the text, he smirks. It’s a picture. One that was obviously taken by someone who isn’t used to shoving a phone between their thighs. A skirt is rolled up, showing off the wet and glistening lips of a sweet pussy, clit engorged. Groaning, Dave reaches down and palms his cock, knowing he will jerk off to it later.
Fingers hovering over the keyboard to text back, he pauses. You had disappointed him today. So there will be no reply to the pretty little picture he got.
*
You wake with a groan, you had spent half the night tossing and turning and checking your phone to see if you had a response to the phone you made the rash decision to send.
You didn’t get one last night and the only notification on your display was a text from Mom with some random bible quote on a sunset background.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to wallow in the guilt that kept attempting to rear its ugly head and you knew that by responding to her message that you wouldn’t be able to repress those feelings, so you elected to ignore it and get ready for a shower.
The breakfast hall was bustling, you were running late after having an extra long shower and made the decision to swing by and grab a to go coffee and muffin to fuel you until lunch.
For the second time in your life you were fighting the urge to skip, yesterday bible study and today Dave's lecture.
It was clear he wasn’t happy with you after leaving yesterday, and the lack of response to the photograph makes you think that he wasn’t impressed with that either.
Dave wonders what you are thinking, what you are doing, as he gathers his papers from his office to make his way across campus to his lecture hall. Stepping out into the hall and pulling the door closed, he has his key in the lock. “Professor York!” He groans to himself as the sound of the perky and high pitched voice of the blonde in the same class as you. “Professor York, so glad I caught you!”
Turning, Dave plasters a smile on his face. Trying to place a name to her and blanking for a few moments before it comes to him. “Deandra Hall, right?” Her giggle makes him nearly roll his eyes but he lets himself seem happy in her response. “What can I do for you?”
“I have a few questions that I was hoping to get answers for before your lecture today.” The laughably coy attempt to flutter her lashes at him is almost insulting but Dave is struck by inspiration.
“Walk with me to class and we can talk.” He suggests, finishing locking the door to his office and slipping the key into his pocket. If this goes well, he should be in for an entertaining class today.
*
You sip your coffee as you round the corner on your way to class, keeping the pace with your fellow peers and trying to remain cool about seeing Dave for the first time since the… incident.
And then you spot them.
Dave and little miss ‘friendly advice’ walking together, clearly engaged in conversation and it makes you feel sick. She makes no effort to conceal the way she’s batting her eyelashes at him, her hand resting on his arm as they walk into the room together.
You linger for a few moments before deciding to enter the lecture hall, hoping that the room was already filling up with your classmates and he’d be addressing everyone and not still engaging in chat with… her.
Dave knows the moment you walk in, but he doesn’t look up. Making it appear like he is engaged in a very involved conversation. Even though he is barely able to keep himself from asking her to go to her seat.
She’s flirting. He realised that about five seconds after they had started walking to the lecture hall. She has a crush on him and is trying to figure out how to get close.
He’s not interested. At all. The only reason he was still talking to her is because it would be rude to cut her off when she’s asking questions about class. That and to see how you react.
Jealousy is not a feeling that you’re used to. You’d grown accustomed to the fact that some things were just not meant for you. At a young age you’d learned that there was no point crying over not receiving the barbie doll that you’d been eyeing up in the store on Christmas day because that’s how life worked. Sure it stung when you were the only girl in your class not able to join in with the games they played but you learned to keep envy locked away in a box.
But you could feel the way it burned on your face, the green eyed monster that you were sure you had locked up in a box with the key nowhere to ever be found; had not only made an appearance but had twisted itself around you and made itself well known from the expression on your face alone.
So you made the decision to sit in a different spot than you had in the past few days and hoped the cover of darkness would mean that Professor York wouldn’t be able to see how irritated you were.
Throughout the lesson you sat and stewed, wondering if you really had any right to be jealous at all, as he’d never offered you anything other than an orgasm. One he gave to you in the most spectacular fashion, but you don’t know what this is, you weren’t even sure if this was something at all.
Dave smiles after he suggests that Deandra takes her seat, finally getting her to shut up for a moment and looks around the hall.
At first he doesn’t spot you, the seat you had chosen empty and he rocks his jaw before he looks up towards the back. Finding you huddled into a corner and staring down at your notebook like it was the focus of your ire. Good.
“Envy.” He announces loudly, making your head pop up. “Tell me about it.”
You groan and sink down into your seat, ‘Of course,’ you think to yourself as you start scribbling in your notebook.
The room starts to fill with the sounds of multiple students offering up their answers and examples.
Dave is amused looking around the room and noticing how you will not look up. Someone is jealous.
“Envy comes in many forms. Coveting or greatly desiring someone’s possession. Even their time.” He lectures. “Being jealous of your friend or boyfriend spending time with others is envy.” He smirks as he looks at the shocked faces around the lecture hall as they absorb that information.
You refuse to look up, you refuse to give him a prime example of envy by the expression etched across your face alone. ‘Is it too late to transfer to another class?’ you think to yourself as he engages in a back and forth with a student about why they’re convincing envy with something else.
“Deandra, you have something to add?” Dave barely keeps from rolling his eyes at the insistent girl waving her arm to be recognized like she is still in grade-school, but he acknowledges her.
“Yes, Professor,” she remarks and you can hear the smugness in her voice, “Envy can manifest itself in many ways. Jealousy being most common… like someone maybe noticing an obvious attraction between two peo—” he cuts her off with a shake of his head and asks the class for an example that hasn’t already been shared.
He looks around, eyes settling on you and he calls your name. You have barely looked up but now every head in the hall turns towards you. “You had some good insight with lust.” He says mildly. “What are your thoughts on envy?”
He knows you know what he is doing and there is a challenge in his eyes as he waits.
“I-uh, well.. it’s a sin… obviously,” you say after staring at him silently for a few seconds, “But it’s also an emotion. Something we are all capable of expressing and in my personal opinion the hardest of the sins to not commit. We are not always in charge of how we are feeling and how others make us feel.” You put an emphasis behind the word and end the sentence by slightly raising your eyebrow.
After a few seconds of silence, you decide to add a final thought… “But my personal honest thoughts on envy? I don’t believe something we are unable to control, like an emotion, should be considered a sin.”
“Interesting.” Dave praises, nodding in agreement as he holds eye contact with you for another moment before looking around the hall. “Everyone agree? Envy is an emotion that is uncontrollable?”
“No,” comes out of the shrillest voice in the room, “I disagree, Professor York. If we all exhibit the restraint the Lord has blessed us with, we can control anything.”
You scoff loudly, and feel every eye in the room find its way on you, “Really, Deandra? You think that you can pray away emotional responses?”
Dave tsks, shaking his head. “Even thinking about it would be considered a sin by the scriptures, wouldn’t you agree? So involuntarily the sin is committed.”
“We all sin.” Deandra intones piously. “The point is that we should strive to realise that none of us belong to this place. We are of God.”
You roll your eyes at her righteousness and take a little bit too much enjoyment in Dave’s obvious lack of patience with her.
“Except no one can be God.” Dave reminds her. “To suggest that is blasphemy and sin itself. We are discussing these things now to have a better understanding later on in the semester. Not to start tallying ‘Hail Marys’ in confession.”
‘No one can be God’… his words repeat in your head over and over as your mind drifts back to what he did to you less than 24 hours ago.
You suppress a chuckle as you look down at the man in front of you. He’s right. ‘No one can be a God’, but he’s taught you that people are capable of making you feel godly things.
During the remainder of the lesson and the way you hear him discuss sin with such nonchalance, you realise that he’s definitely not a God fearing man.
And this realisation makes you fear that he’s capable of things that’ll make you test your faith in the man himself. And with all the discussion of sin going on around you, you think that might be the biggest sin you could ever commit.
The lecture winds down and Dave grins when he notices the range of emotions on the faces of his students. Making them think beyond Bible verses or catechisms is what he is paid to do, although he pushes the boundaries of what the college had in mind when they created his department. “Tonight, your assignment is to write about envy. Personal experience and what you did about it.”
You scribble down the assignment, you weren’t sure what you were going to write, but you had a feeling that you could cook something up without going to him for help this time.
Still you linger for a few moments after your classmates start to exit the hall. Hoping that he’ll call you down for a talk, maybe discuss the photo from last night… or touch you again. But he doesn’t, you watch as he doesn’t throw a second glance in your direction and simply walks out.
Dave can feel your eyes on his back as he walks out. Wondering if he will get a visit from you during office hours but he doubts it. He’s sure you will be stubborn and he hums to himself as he swings his keys in his hand. He would rather have you in his lap again, making another mess of your panties while he makes you cum.
*
The rest of the day goes by in a bit of a blur, you had two double periods and you made the effort to eat at the cafeteria rather than alone before popping out to buy some essentials and a few bits to make your dorm feel a little more homely.
You finally make it back to your room and immediately get to work on a few assignments, purposely leaving the one for Professor York's class until last.
With a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand you open up your diary to the page with Dave’s assignment scribbled down.
‘A personal experience with envy’ - you had many but it was the next part that you struggled with ‘and what you did about it.’
‘Mhmm,’ you sigh out loud as you recount a few times where you felt envious for a moment before you put it in that box and moved on. But that’s not what he’d want to hear. You know he’d find that boring, you know that he wouldn’t be impressed or he’d make you rewrite it. So you thought for a little longer, going as far to jot down a few ideas… maybe you could write about something you’d wanted to do? Before you stored it away. No. He’d see right through that.
Your mind drifts back to him and how good he looked today, wearing a light grey suit; light enough that if you were to have been touched again by him that your arousal would have left an obvious wet patch on his pants.
'Ugh’, you grumble again. You think of the way your heart stopped when you saw him round that corner… and saw her obviously trying to gain his attention in more ways than just one… by batting her lashes and running her fingers up one of his arms as they walked together.
You wonder if he’d touch her like he touched you yesterday, you wonder if he touched her instead of you today and you feel sick at the thought of it. You feel jealousy bubble up in your stomach and consume your entire body.
‘Fuck,’ you curse as you slam the lid of your laptop down, ‘I wonder if she’d still be giving me friendly advice to drop out of his class if she knew…’
And that’s when it hits you. The little button of pleasure roaring to life with a pulse that you couldn’t ignore.
You hitch your skirt up over your waist and start pulling your panties down without a second's hesitation, before you start desperately trying to mimic the movements he made on the day previous. It feels good, you can’t deny it, but it doesn’t feel as good as he made you feel.
‘Dave,’ you mumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, imagining it’s his thick digits playing that part of you so effortlessly and having you whimper and gasp for air as he pulls something glorious from you. And then you imagine her, stone faced and furious, sitting across his desk as he takes you to a whole new level of pleasure as she desperately tries to steal his attention from you.
“Good girl,” he’d whisper over and over in your ear, drowning out her incessant pleas for him to notice her with every drip of praise he covered you in. She’d only shut her mouth and get up and leave after realising you’re all that he can see, and after watching him clean his fingers with his tongue as you attempt to regain your composure after he makes you cum with a loud scream of his name.
…And that’s when a burst of hot white pleasure explodes behind your eyes, and for the first time ever, you’d reached completion with your own sinful hands.
You lay there for a few minutes listening to your own shaky breaths, before sitting up and pulling your laptop open; before you have time to change your mind you start to type out ‘a personal experience with envy’, one that would end up with your fingers dripping in arousal.
*
In his own home, Dave taps his pen against the stack of papers as he looks at his phone. Like he had predicted, you hadn’t shown up for office hours. Leaving him to look at the panties you had soiled yesterday and open his phone to look at the picture of your sweet little pussy again.
His cock twitches as he imagines if you had come. Making you sit on his desk and spread your legs so he could taste you. Watch your eyes flutter while you have your pussy licked for the first time. Pulling his aching cock out of his pants and watching your eyes widen in curiosity and fear. You would want to touch him but be resistant.
Blowing out a breath, he snatches up the phone and starts typing. ‘No visual aids tonight?’
*
The sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand makes you jump, you pick it up and your jaw drops at the notification on your homepage.
You open the message and read it back a few times, contemplating what to say or whether to send him another picture.
‘Didn’t think they were your thing.’ You punch back before hitting send.
Dave smirks, admiring the sass you seem to have with the impersonality of a phone between you. Chuckling, he types out a response. ‘Why would you think that?’
'Lack of response? You acting like it never happened? You flirting with Little Miss Southern Belle. Thought maybe she had stolen your attention... Should I keep going?’ You type back with a grin on your face.
Shaking his head, Dave feels the thrill of victory flooding his veins, making his cock even harder. ‘There’s jealousy in those words, little girl. And here I thought you would have come to me for help since you are a good girl.’
You scoff at his audacity. ‘For help? Do you mean for the essay that I have already completed?’
Part of you is tempted to take a photo of your glistening pussy, your cum has made your pussy lips and the tops of thighs shine.
Just as you get ready to start spreading your legs to snap a shot for his eyes only, you see the text bubble appear on your screen.
‘Send it to me now.’
Dave sits back and unbuckles his belt, needing relief. His cock is throbbing and he’s got your panties laying on his desk, taunting him.
‘Dave, I haven’t edited it yet…’ you reply, a white lie but you’re not 100% sure you were actually ever going to hand this one in.
‘I don’t give a shit about grammar and spelling.’ Dave immediately sends back, eager to see your envy.
‘Oh,’ you groan before immediately attaching the file and sending it to him.
You’re unsure whether to switch off your phone and run from what you’ve done or be brave and wait out a reply… if one comes.
Dave smirks when his email pings and he sets his phone down to pick up his glasses. Wondering if you will squirm as you wait for his response.
Starting to read it his cock throbs, aching for relief as he visualises your words. Bringing the scene to life.
He gives in, pushing back from his desk just enough so he can pull his cock out and spits in his hand. Needing to find some relief since you will not come over and let him touch you like he wants.
‘What is taking so long?’ you think to yourself as the seconds stretch into minutes and time seemingly comes to a standstill.
Dave smirks as he sends the message to you. Wondering what you will think when you get the picture he had just taken, he stands up to go wash his hands.
‘Oh my,’ you mumble as you look at the picture on your screen. The same thick digits that were pressed against you yesterday, covered in a pearly white liquid. ‘Is that your seed?’ you text back feeling slightly flushed. With a weird feeling in your stomach making want to taste the shiny liquid.,
Seed. He snorts when he reads the word and imagines how flustered you look right now. ‘Yes. It’s my cum. Or ‘seed’ as you call it. Had to jerk off thinking about your paper and looking at the picture of your pretty pussy.’
You feel heat flush in your face, ‘Can I see a photo of you? Your…?’ You type back quickly and wonder how he’ll react or if he’ll even reply.
He considers it. He really does. Even soft now that he’s cum, he’s still impressive as far as most men go. He can imagine you would gasp and wonder how he would look when he’s hard, but then he wants to see that. Wants to witness the curiosity being fulfilled. Instead of snapping a picture, Dave sends you a message back. ‘I’ll show you in person tomorrow. My office.’
‘Before or after class?’ you reply quickly, a little anxious that you sound overeager.
Smirking, Dave hesitates as he thinks about what would be best. ‘After. More time to….explore.’
‘See you then, Sir.’ You reply before plugging your phone into your charger and settling down to sleep.
*
The next morning, Dave dresses with care, shaving his face smooth and making sure that he had trimmed his pubic hair nearly. Knowing that you are going to see a man’s penis for the first time has him eager to get through the class and to his office hours.
Humming to himself as he dresses and puts on his favourite cologne. He wonders if you slept last night or if you touched yourself again. He has no doubt that your paper was real. You had made yourself cum and he chuckles to himself. He will have to ask you which one you preferred. His fingers or yours.
*
The morning begins with a phone call from your Mom, guilt dripping from your face as you watch the phone ring out.
You promise yourself you’ll call your parents at the weekend before climbing out of bed and making your way to the showers.
You make an extra effort this morning and whilst you may have been shielded from certain things, you know how to keep yourself tidy and fresh. You wonder if today he’ll touch you again, or if it’ll be your turn to touch him.
You think about the pearly liquid from the photo he sent you and wonder how it feels… how it tastes before chiding yourself and throwing yourself into getting ready for the day.
You remember what he said about the white panties and reach for a new pair, cotton with some frill around the edges.
*
Every morning Dave stops for coffee on his way to his lecture hall. The cart in the quad makes a roast that he enjoys and despite what people might think of him, he likes his coffee sweet. Three pumps vanilla, one pump salted caramel with sweet cream foam. He smirks to himself as he purchases another one for a lucky student and whistles as he walks through the hustling students.
The lecture hall is almost full when you arrive, you settle down in your original seat and get your things ready.
You glance around the room and notice that Professor York still hasn’t arrived.
You notice that a few seats near the front of the class are open and consider moving closer but don’t want to look too desperate, so you decide to stay where you are.
The room continues to fill as you wait for your professor to arrive, anticipation building up in your stomach as the seconds tick by.
Dave strolls into the lecture hall and sets the coffee cup directly in the middle of his desk and looks up at the students, making sure that he doesn’t make eye contact with you.
“The first one who recites First Corinthians, Chapter 3 Verse 3 gets this coffee.” He tells the calls. “It’s exactly how I drink my coffee everyday and it’s delicious.”
About twelve hands including yours immediately shoot up, waiting for him to call on one of you. You watch as he scours the room, seemingly taking in everyone but you.
It’s tempting to call on Deandra, not because he actually wants to hear her voice but to watch you seethe in jealousy. In the end, he doesn’t and chooses a boy who looks like he’s probably never gotten laid before. “You- blue shirt, red hat. What’s your name?”
“Patrick,” he stutters before going ahead and attempting to recite the verse, Daves intense stare boring into him is enough to make him lose focus and fuck it up spectacularly.
You raise your hand again as Dave gives Patrick a small nod, and looks around for the next person to call on.
“You, third row.” He calls out to a pretty brunette. She’s not his type, but he’s pretty damn sure you don’t know what his type is. “Snoopy T-shirt.”
“Sarah,” she responds quickly, she perfectly recites the verse without so much as a stutter and you hate the way he immediately floods her with praise. Your stomach knotting at the way he calls her a good girl and inviting her out of her seat to collect her coffee. He says something so only she can hear and you feel blinded with jealousy.
“Does anyone understand what that means?” Dave asks, looking around the room and barely glancing at you before he’s on to another person.
You can’t help the way your mouth twists at him overlooking you for a second time, you’re certain he peered in your direction this time, so you’re unsure why he completely dismissed you.
“Anyone?” Dave looks disappointed in the class and tsks quietly. “Okay then, switching topics. Someone tell me their story of envy. We aren’t in confession, self reflection is good for the soul.”
You slowly lower your still raised hand as he looks around the room for people to offer up their stories and you know that there is no way you can share yours, so you sink down into your seat and start to second guess whether he wants to see you afterwards or not.
Dave calls on a boy who introduces himself as David, sounding proud of the fact that he has the same name as his professor. Boring Dave to death with a story about some action figure he had wanted as a boy that all of his friends got for Christmas but his own parents denied him and lectured him on Christmas Day for being disappointed or covetous. He had 'borrowed' the figure from a friend to play with after going back to school and it had caused him to be jealous and resentful.
"Okay. Good story." This class is very sheltered and Dave reminds himself that he is supposed to be accepting of that fact. He moves into the other religious uses of envy throughout the Bible and other texts. The college doesn't like him teaching anything but Christianity at a Catholic college but it is used to reinforce the 'envy is bad' theory that he is teaching.
The rest of the class drags by unbelievably slowly, Dave seemingly boring himself as he recites and instructs people to read from the required textbooks now in front of you all.
You find yourself intensely watching the clock and rolling your eyes at how painfully slow it ticks by.
When you aren’t looking, Dave studies you. Watching as you try to concentrate but it’s clear that you are thinking about something else.
The butterflies in your tummy are getting harder and harder to ignore as the end of lesson approaches, he has gone out of his way to ignore you this whole lesson. ‘Maybe he’s changed his mind’ you think to yourself, maybe he wants someone more experienced.
The rest of the lesson is spent on a quick quiz and jotting down the texts Professor York expects us to memorise for tomorrow's lesson. He asks for the papers on envy to be turned in and seeing as you emailed yours, you didn’t have a physical copy to hand. You loiter for a few moments, noticing how he doesn’t even glance in the direction you’re in and you feel another stroke of unease flood through you.
Dave waits until you leave before he starts to gather up his papers, shoving them in the leather satchel he carries and quickly makes his way out of the lecture hall. Eager to get to his office and have you arrive.
You don’t know whether to make your way to his office, or just slip back to your room. You find yourself slowly making your way down the hallway, stopping at every cabinet or plaque. The temptation to run to your dorm room and hide under the safety of your blankets grows stronger, but the desperation to feel his fingers on your skin and his breath of neck beats it out.
You stand silently for a few moments, weighing up the options in your head and then you feel the vibrations of your phone in your skirt pocket.
Dave frowns down at his phone, he had halfway expected to have you waiting outside his office. ‘I don’t like to be kept waiting.’
‘Fuck’ you mouth, as you quickly punch out ‘I’m coming’ and make your way as quickly as you can to his office without actually running.
Your hand forms a fist the second his door is in sight and you as soon as you can reach it, you gently knock the door three times.
Dave takes a minute before he calls for you to enter. He knows it’s you. Watching you slip inside, he smirks. “Lock the door behind you.”
Your heart is in your stomach and somehow your stomach is in your throat. You can’t find the words to greet him, so instead you politely nod and turn back to lock the door.
With shaky fingers you fumble with the lock before slowly turning back around and straightening out the front of your uniform.
Something tells you to stay still and wait to be called over. Like an unspoken rule that as soon as the lock has clicked shut that he is in control.
“Show me your panties.” Dave smirks slightly, repeating the last time you were in this office. “Are they wet, or are you unaffected today?”
You stay rooted to the spot, reaching down to pull on your skirt, hoisting them up just over the elastic on your panties. You know he can see your thighs shiny with your arousal, so you don’t need to answer his question verbally.
“Interesting.” Dave tears his eyes away from your thighs to drag them up to your embarrassed orbs. He sees curiosity fighting to get through, under the layers of repressed religion. “Did you touch yourself thinking about my cum?” He asks, leaning back and watching you.
“No,” you admit honestly, “I almost did it in the shower this morning, but it doesn’t feel as good as when you did it.”
He chuckles at your admission, nodding as if he knew that would be the case. “I’ll make sure you feel good any time you want.” He promises. “There are so many other ways to feel even better. So many ways.”
“Yeah?” you ask quietly, still waiting for him to give you permission to move closer or take a seat, “How so?”
“My fingers inside you.” He lifts his hand and curls two fingers slowly. “My tongue on your pretty pussy. My cock.”
You feel your cheeks burn at the gesture he makes, as well as the filth he so effortlessly speaks. Your thighs automatically squeeze together and your clit pulses at the thought of his tongue on you, you had heard about this before in a magazine you had once taken a glance in at the doctors office. Your mother had seen the title of the magazine in your hand a few minutes later and immediately ripped it from you.
“Can… Can I see it?” you whisper.
Dave drops one finger and crooks the remaining one towards you, motioning for you to come to him. “You want to see a man’s cock, little girl? My cock?” The cock in question twitches under his slacks when you nod shyly and he loves the way you shuffle forward as if you are pacing yourself. The innocence. “If you want to see it, you need to pull it out.” He challenges, just to see what you would do.
A little gasp breaks free of your lips as you realise what he’s asking you to do. You take a tentative step towards him and feel a mixture of guilt and excitement stir up in your tummy.
A few seconds later you’re standing expectantly in front of him, you’re not sure if he wants you to do it with him sitting down or if he’ll stand. So you wait for instruction, your eyes flicking between the large bulge in his pants and his dark eyes.
“Nervous?” He rocks forward and stands, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Do you not want to? Should I show you this one time?”
“I want to,” you say innocently, “I just need some guidance.”
“I’ll make it easy on you.” Dave decides, dropping his hand from your cheek to his belt. There is the clinking of his buckle as he undoes it and flicks the button of his slacks open. “All you have to do is unzip.” He murmurs, having decided to not wear underwear today to shock your virgin sensibilities.
You try to hide the way your hand is trembling with nerves and anticipation, you slowly reach forward and let your fingers brush the material of his pants before you take one last look at him and gently reach for the zipper, slowly pulling it down.
You gasp loudly as his cock springs free, no underwear to contain it.
He’s hard, the head flushed to a deep red and there is just the beginnings of precum built up on the tip. It’s a silly thing to be proud of, but whatever doctor had done his circumcision at the hospital had done a good job. The head mushrooms perfectly and he bobs slightly under the weight now that he’s not confined.
A little moan escapes you as you look at it. The thickness makes your pussy clench as you wonder how something that thick could ever fit inside of you. The urge to reach out and touch it grows stronger the longer you look, but still you wait for instruction, unsure what he’s wanting you to do.
Dave wants to bite your bottom lip, take over nibbling on it. “You can touch it.” He urges, wanting to feel your hand around him. To be the first cock you touch.
Your eyes burn into his before you gently reach out and brush your fingertips over the length, before pulling away, embarrassment flooding you as you’re unsure exactly how to touch it.
Dave reaches out, grabbing your hand gently and opening your fingers so they wrap around him when he pulls it to his cock. Groaning when you curl your fingers around him and his cock pulses harshly in your grip. “That’s good, just like that.” He pants.
“Oh,” you gasp, “Show me how to make you feel good, Sir.”
His chuckle is dirty and he keeps his hand around yours as he starts to guide you. Helping you and watching your eyes widen as you feel the smooth skin move over the hardness beneath. “There you go.”
You keep your motions as steady as you can, flicking your wrist up and down and focusing on the way his breaths get slightly shakier as you keep going. You’re kneeling between his legs, crouched in a position that’s extremely familiar to you, but performing an act of depravity that you’d never imagined yourself doing less than a week after starting college.
“Stop.” Dave doesn’t want to cum from your hand, not just yet. You immediately stop and he flicks a bead of his precum off the tip and holds it up on his finger. “See what you do to me?”
The words leave your mouth before you have time to process you’re saying them, “I want to taste it.”
Dave smiles approvingly, like you just answered a question in class correctly. “Stick out your tongue, little girl.” He orders, wanting to stick his cock on your tongue, but his fluids will do for now.
You ignore the guilt rising in your stomach like bile for your role is the debauchery, and do as you’re commanded, shuffling forward and obediently sticking your tongue up, looking up at him through your lashes.
He hums, smearing his precum on your tongue and groaning when he pulls his finger away. Watching you as the taste expands on your tastebuds and he wants to give you more.
You let out a satisfied hum and squeeze your eyes shut as the taste of him explodes on your tongue, salty and a little bitter. You squeeze your thighs together as you feel your pussy start to drip with excitement.
“Sit on my desk.” Dave orders, wrapping his hand around his cock as he slowly starts to stroke himself again. “You want more, don’t you little girl?
“Yes, please,” you ask, with the same kind of politeness that falls from you as you’re standing in line for a sip of wine and a wafer at church. But this time desperately for something else to grace your lips.
He continues to stroke himself as you climb to your feet, turning around and pushing your butt onto the desk and pressing your knees together like a good girl. Standing, Dave lets go of his cock and uses his hand to spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between. “Close your eyes.” He orders, waiting until you’ve compiled to lean in, licking his lips before he presses them to yours.
The unexpected intrusion is not what you imagined, but you feel like you might cry if he pulls his lips from yours. He’s gentler than you’d expected, one hand resting on your thigh whilst the other gently grips the bottom of your jaw and guides your mouth.
Keeping it light for a long moment, he feels your surprise, then delight in the soft kiss. Feeling any resistance give way, Dave waits for the moment your lips part on a sigh to slowly slide his tongue into your mouth.
You breathe moans into his mouth as his lips envelope yours, his tongue dances across yours as his hold on your gets tighter. You follow his lead and gently press your tongue against his, before reaching up to touch his face as he continues to kiss and lick into your mouth.
He admits that he might have pushed it. Take the kiss too deep. Growling hungrily into your mouth and stroking your tongue with his harder makes you gasp and pull away. Leaving him breathing heavily and reminding himself that you are not used to this type of kissing.
“Sorry,” you murmur, worried you’d upset him by pulling back, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” Dave shakes his head and his hand comes back to your cheek, cupping it and giving you another moment. “I’m sure no one has kissed you like that before.”
“No one has ever… kissed me before,” you admit shyly, convinced the revelation is going to have you sent out of his office.
“Oh you innocent little thing.” Dave breathes out, cock twitching against your thigh and he just stares at you in wonder. You are perfect. Completely innocent and unbroken. “Did you like it?”
“I really liked it,” you say, unable to suppress the smile that’s spreading across your face, “I never imagined… I’d ever be doing this, but I can’t stay away.”
“Do you want me to kiss your lips?” Dave asks, a small smirk on his face.
“Yes, please,” you reply instantaneously.
Dave chuckles, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours briefly before he pulls back. “But I didn’t say which lips, little girl.” He teases. “Should I kiss your pussy? Make you feel even better than before?”
“Yes,” you choke out, “Yes I want you to tas—” Heat flooding your cheeks as you cut yourself off.
You take a deep breath and look him in the eye, taking in the amused look etched across his face, “I want you to taste my uh… my pussy,” you say with as much confidence as you can muster.
“Good girl.” Dave praises, giving you another kiss before he slides his hands up your thighs. “Lift your hips for me.” He urges, eager to get your panties off so he can debauch you further.
You lift your hips and he wastes no time freeing you off your panties. “Dave,” you moan as you feel his hot breath on your exposed core.
Chuckling, he turns his head and presses his tongue to the inner band of your thigh, just shy of your pussy but it allows his shaved smooth cheek to graze your swollen clit.
The noise that leaves you is drenched in sin, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from begging for more.
The answering sound is one meant to soothe you, making you wait while he explores. His eyes drinking in the sight of your pussy lips, soaked and your hair is trimmed. “Someone freshened up.” He coos teasingly, using his fingers to spread your lips wide. “So pretty.”
“For you,” you gasp out, somehow feeling his touch everywhere.
“Let me thank you then, baby girl.” He looks up at your eyes, wide with wonder when he lowers his mouth to your pussy.
“Ohhhhh,” you moan at feeling of his mouth on you, he starts gentle, his tongue gently lapping at your clit as you bring your hands up to cover your face.
Dave tuts, pulling his tongue away from your clit and you whine. “Let me see your face while I lick your pussy, little girl.” He orders quietly.
You groan at the loss of his mouth on you, before removing your hands from your face and letting them rest on the desk, wanting to tangle them in his hair.
“Good girl.” He winks at you. “Good girls get to cum on daddy’s face.”
“Oh, god,” you gasp out at him, “Yes, yes, please.”
“Yes please what?” He teases, loving how sweet you sound when you beg.
“Yes, please, daddy,” you reply barely above a whisper.
Dave huffs, pleased with the mixture of innocence and demand in your whispered plea. You have no idea how good it can feel but you want it. “Pull on my hair, baby girl. Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” He promises, diving back into your folds.
You want to scream out with how good it feels, his tongue ravishing your folds as he goes between sucking and licking you.
“Oh, Dave,” you moan out as your fingers tangle up in his hair, pulling his face closer to your dripping pussy as you feel something extraordinary start to build up inside of you.
Dave curls his tongue around your clit and pulls the little bud into his mouth to suck on it. Groaning into you like a starved animal as the passes of his tongue get faster and more frantic.
The mouth is one of the wonders of the world you decide, as with every lap of his tongue he coaxes you into the kind of paradise that you’d been told only existed for the purest of hearts.
He spends a few moments concentrating solely on your clit and you feel your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably, every muscle and nerve ending inside of you suddenly becomes enriched with pleasure and then he groans… his arms wrapping around your thighs either tighter and the sounds coming deep from within his throat making it 10x more intense, you think you might stop breathing, you think you might scream… and then he stops. Lowering his mouth to lap up every drop of the arousal dripping from you.
He can hear the frustration in your gasp, smirking to himself as he licks his lips and spreads your thighs wider to watch your pussy pulse while your orgasm slowly fades away. “Give it a second.” He murmurs, feeling that you are about to ask a question.
“Please,” you beg mindlessly, repeating the word over and over continues to edge you. Bringing you closer and closer everything before releasing your clit from from his lips, “I-I can’t,” you whimper as he slowly moves his tongue back down to your entrance, this time slowly pushing it in and out, his groan reverberating against your core as you start to ache your back off of his desk.
It’s deliberate, the in and out of his tongue mimicking what his cock will do to your little pussy. Except he cannot get as deep as he would want to. His nose is butting up against your clit and he breathes into you, absorbing every little flutter your cunt makes, groaning when your walls start to pulse around his tongue. “Cum for daddy, little girl.” He pulls away to order before he plunges his tongue back into your velvety softness.
Your fingers entwined in his hair are almost vice-like, gripping so hard that you’re certain it must hurt. But you can’t do anything but shake and whimper as the coil inside of you finally snaps. You whimper and moan his name in a breathless chant as your whole body is flooded with what you can only describe as something euphoric. Each one of your senses is heightened and your body knows nothing but pleasure in that moment. He continues eating you like a man starved throughout your high, refusing to let up or reduce his ministrations.
Your breathy whimpers feed into him, making him throb as he licks and sucks up every drop of arousal that weeps from your pussy. He knows he’s stained the trousers he’s wearing and he doesn’t care, enraptured with your taste. This is true heaven, and he’s taken you there for the first time.
You gently push away his face, the overstimulation being too much as you catch your breath. He peppers a few kisses on your trembling thighs before standing up and over you.
Dave kisses you again, giving you the taste of yourself from his lips as he moves between your thighs, wanting to feel your slickness against his cock. Maybe even jerk off right there. Splattering his cum against your still virgin pussy. He groans as the first touch of his length against your puffy lips feels exquisite.
You feel your body seize up as he drags his cock through your folds, oh no you think to yourself as you imagine losing your virginity on the desk of a man who you’ve barely spoken to. A man who clearly doesn’t value the promises you made to God… “Oh,” you mumble out loud, “I can’t… We can’t do this,” you say as you push him away.
He says something to you that you can’t quite make out, you find yourself apologising profusely as you pull your skirt back down, grab your backpack and run towards the door, unlocking it without looking back and practically running down the hall, keeping the same pace all the way back to your dorm.
Dave stares at the door for a long moment after you’ve left. In your panicked state, you’ve left behind another pair of panties and apparently didn’t hear him when he said he wasn’t going to take your virginity. Huffing to himself, he grabs your panties and wraps them around his fist, sitting down in his chair again to jerk off.
You kick off your shoes and set the chain on your door before throwing yourself under your covers. It hasn’t even been a week since you left home and you’re already unrecognisable to yourself.
You know your parents are mad at you after glancing through the family group chat and seeing that they’ve been informed that you’ve not gone to evening mass once since arriving at college. You should have figured they’d have been in contact with the local priest and checking up on you.
After spending an hour considering going to church and repenting or reading through your favourite passages for respite, you decide that what you really need is a nap. So you snuggle down, and get comfortable in bed.
Switching your phone off and letting yourself have a much needed cry before drifting off to sleep.
Dave works, checking his phone and he considers texting you, but he doesn’t. Sensing that it would be the wrong move, he wonders if he was mistaken. If you were too innocent. It didn’t seem like you were when you were flooding his tongue with your cum.
Finally, around 7pm, he still hasn’t heard from you so he decides to send you a text. ‘Make sure you eat tonight.’
Your one hour nap turns into several. And you wake up and see that it’s already dark outside, you reach over and switch on your phone. It’s past 8pm and you have a text from Dave and a few missed calls from your parents.
You open his text and feel a bit of relief that he doesn’t seem too angry with you, you punch out a simple reply before snuggling back into your blankets.
‘I will. Thank you.’
Dave frowns at the message. Will? What the fuck do you mean by will? You should have already eaten by now. Tucked back into your dorm room safe and sound. The urge to get in his car and drive over to you is nearly overwhelming but he knows it will raise eyebrows. A professor coming to a student dorm hall is not usual. ‘Will? You haven’t eaten yet, little girl?’
How does everything he says to you go straight… there? You think to yourself.
'I took a nap, and I've only just woken up. About to make a PB&J.'
‘You need something better than that.’ Dave immediately sends back. Before sending a second text. ‘Scramble some eggs and have some toast. Breakfast for dinner is a college staple.’
‘You’re very bossy, did you know that professor York? I have bread, peanut butter, jelly, chips and oreos. I will survive.’
Dave growls at your answer, unhappy with your dietary choices. You can’t function on that.
‘I AM bossy, but I want you to take care of yourself.’
You feel your chest get all warm at his admission, almost too soft for the way he’s bossing you around. ‘I promise I will have a super hearty breakfast in the morning… pancakes AND waffles. Dave… are you mad at me for leaving earlier?’
Dave stares at the message, frowning at the idea that you think he’s mad at you. ‘Do you want me to show you proof I’m not mad at you, sweetheart?’ You really are innocent, and he is enjoying the sweetness of your soul.
You take a bite into your hastily made sandwich before raising your eyebrow at his text? ‘Show me?’ you say out loud not sure what he means… ‘I’d like you to show me.’
He smirks at your admission. ‘I’m not mad at you. But I want you to know that I would never take what wasn’t offered.’ He promises before he sends the picture he had taken earlier.
You moan out loud at the photo that flashes up on your phone. It’s your new panties covered in his cum, a brief flashback of the salty tangy taste of him floods your tastebuds.
‘Seems like such a waste to have it somewhere I can’t taste it.’ You punch back.
‘I was going to coat your pretty pussy in it.’ Dave admits, chuckling to himself at your bravado over text. ‘But plans changed. It happens.’
‘I thought you were going to put it inside. I’m sorry for freaking out… I would have liked that. I would have liked to see you cum.’ You reply, your fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as you curse yourself for panicking.
‘I will NEVER do that without your permission.’ Dave knows he’s a lot of things. He’s definitely going to hell despite everyone believing there is salvation with prayer, but that is a line he would not cross. ‘Not until I hear the words come out of your mouth.’
You bite your lip and feel a little guilty for not telling him you weren’t ready and just running out, ‘I think that if anyone could make me say those words… it would be you.’
Dave decides that virginal hysterics are not that big of a deal and decides to reward you with a little something so you can go to sleep with him and only him on your mind. He selects a video and sends it to you. ‘Sweet dreams, little girl. Remember to eat.’
‘Holy shit,’ you say out loud as a video of him finishing flashes up on your screen, you watch it back a few times, moaning at the way your pussy clenches with need every time.
‘I would like you to show me how to make you do that, if that’s ok? I ate. Goodnight, Dave.’
*
You wake with a jump, the sound of your phone vibrating incessantly on your nightstand makes you groan as you reach out to grab it.
** INCOMING CALL: MOM**
You want to ignore it and let it ring out but you fear that at this point your parents might just turn up and hunt you down.
You groan one last time before clicking the green button to accept her call.
‘Hi Mom,’ you say sheepishly knowing you’re in for a telling off, ‘I was going to phone you tonight.’
She doesn’t bother saying hello, instead she just scoffs, and begins her lecture. ‘We haven’t heard from you in days. Priest Vickers has informed us that he’s yet to meet you and The Pritchards have told us that their son has only seen you in ONE bible study… What exactly are you doing there?’
‘It’s been less than week, i’m just trying to find my foot—”
“We put the Lord above else,’ she all but screams down the phone, ‘If everyone else can find time… so can you. Your father is livid, he’s so angry that he considered coming to your dorm last night and checking on you in person. You are to be calling us EVERYDAY.’
You shake your head and she continues ranting and raving at you down the phone before glancing at the time, you promised Dave that you’d get a decent breakfast today and you still hadn’t showered so you take a deep breath and interrupt her ranting.
“Mom, I have an early class, I need to shower and brush my teeth and eat. I’ll call you later. Goodbye.”
After ending the call you see her number flash up on your phone again and you roll your eyes, leaving your phone on the nightstand as you lock the door and make your way to the bathroom. You’ll deal with it all later.
After showering and getting ready for the day, you skip off towards the cafeteria. As you approach the large hall you have the urge to check you have your card on your person, and as you dig through your bag, you see something that makes you stop in your tracks.
The brand new rosary your father had gifted you the day you left for college. ‘Who are you?’ you think to yourself as your fingertips brush the rosary. This isn’t you. This isn’t who you’re supposed to be… You fill tears sting your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as you stare into your bag at the rosary.
You know what you have to do, you know where you have to go. You immediately spin on your heels and talk towards the exit.
*
The next morning has Dave up early. Ready and out the door to head to campus with the purpose of running into you on the way to the cafeteria and making sure that you eat properly. Completely coincidental, of course. Your last text had him burning, imagining you stroking his cock or even better, sucking his cock until he spills down your throat and you swallow every sticky drop.
He is just coming towards the coffee cart when he sees you dart out of the cafeteria and practically sprint towards the chapel. Dave grunts, knowing the priest won’t be awake yet, the old codger never gets into the confessional booth before 11am.
Changing directions, Dave follows you. Wanting to make sure that you are alright and wondering why you are not eating like you told him you would.
*
You breathe a sigh of relief when you notice the chapel is empty, no one waiting to confess their sins or engaging in morning prayer. Heading straight to the confessional booth, you shut it behind you and take a deep breath before sitting and waiting for the priest to speak.
Dave opens the door to the chapel, finding it deserted and he knows you have to be in the confessional. His steps are light, quickly walking towards the box where all confess their sins before God and slips into the priest’s seat sliding the first window open to keep the privacy barrier between you.
You begin by completing the sign of the cross.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was 3 months and 17 days ago.”
You take a deep breath and bite down on your lip before speaking again.
“I have engaged in… improper activities with a man. A man who I can’t get out of my head, I allowed him to… touch me, and I-I-uh want him to touch me again. He is all I think about,” you admit with a sigh, “I have known him less than a week and I have been more intimate with him than I have anyone else. I have neglected prayer, and I have avoided speaking to my family. All because I don’t want to say anything that’ll risk me being pulled away from here… from him.”
Dave hums, heat filling his chest and it makes his cock start to harden as he listens to you confess your sins to him. He doesn’t say anything yet, knowing you will discover it’s him so he waits for you to continue.
“I-uh, I don’t think I could say no to this man,” you admit blissfully unaware you’re admitting this to dave, “I want to please him. I want to see his face contorted in pleasure as I sin with him. Before this weekend, I had never known the pleasure that my body is capable of… and now all I think about is him drawing it out of me… What should I do, Father?”
Dave contemplates several answers, some of them demure, fitting with a priest. Others are immoral and make his hard cock twitch. “You should follow your heart, little girl.” He murmurs softly. “Make this man’s face contort in pleasure like you wish. Right now.”
“Dave,” you gasp out, “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.” Dave retorts. “Didn’t you promise me you were going to eat a hearty breakfast?” He asks. “Confession isn’t in the cafeteria.”
“I was on my way but I,” you reply, “I saw my rosary. And I spoke to my Mom this morning and I just keep letting everyone down. So I came here.”
“Why are you letting everyone down?” Dave asks, annoyed at the way you sound frantic and upset. “Forget everyone for a second. Are you letting yourself down?”
“I don’t know,” you reply softly, “I don’t know how I am supposed to feel. But I know that I barely know you, in fact I know nothing about you, but what I do know is that I want to make you feel good.”
“Then make me feel good.” Dave tells you, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. “Right here.”
The idea of desecrating the confessional has Dave about to burst his jeans, cock throbbing as he slides the divider out of the way and looks at you without the screen. “Right now.”
“Tell me what I need to do,” you say before shifting towards him, kneeling down as he feeds his rock hard cock through the window.
Dave groans at the lewdness of this. The sin of lust and fornication being committed right here in a sanctuary of God. The confessional booth where sins have been expunged will be stained with the sacrilege. “Wrap your rosary around the base of my cock.” He’s panting as he orders you to mark the beads with this act, knowing every time you pray and rub them, you will remember how you had violated them.
The words feel like a bucket of ice water being poured directly over you, but you still reach into your bag and pull it out. Doing exactly what he instructed and feeling your panties get soaked as you do so.
His cock bounces in your face from the way he reacts, twitching and a bead of precum leaks from the head to gather and nearly drip off of his length. "Now, open your mouth, pretty girl. Put it on your tongue."
You moan in response, one hand lightly wrapping around the base and rosary, before opening your mouth and pressing your tongue to the tip, you look up at him, eyes wide and awaiting your next instruction.
Dave can see your face through the slot, moaning softly at the sight of his cock on your innocent little tongue. “Close your mouth around it and suck.” He groans when your lips immediately latch onto his skin. “Good girl. Slowly start to take it deeper.”
You follow his commands, wrapping your mouth around his thick length, you’re not sure how much you’ll be able to take.
His eyes threaten to close but he forces himself to keep them open. Not wanting to miss a second of this. Slowly, his hands come through the slot to cup your cheeks, pulling you gently towards him as his hips push forward. “Like this.”
“Mhmmm,” you hum out around his dick, the quiet groans he occasionally lets slip spurring you on. He starts rocking on his heels, gently fucking into your mouth.
He shudders when your tongue moves, curling around his shaft and pressing against the head when he pulls his hips back. “Fuck.” He whispers so he doesn’t echo the curse through the church.
The urge to use the hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock to relieve some of the pressure pulsating in your clit is almost impossible to ignore. You can keep your arousal seeping out, coating your core and pussy lips, pooling in the middle of your panties.
You accidentally let a loud moan slip out as he increases his pace, fucking your mouth a little faster with each thrust, you hear him tell you to be quiet and to swallow around him as he pushes deeper and deeper.
It’s impossible to keep this up for long. The way your mouth sucks at his cock and the entire scene has him throbbing and poised on the threshold of pleasure. Your confession turning into the biggest sin so far and he’s loving it.
Rocking his hips faster, he curls his fingers around the edge of your jaw. The beads keep him from plunging too deep and choking you, butting up against your lips. “When- when I tell you, start swallowing.” He grunts quietly.
You wonder what you must look like right now, your eyes watering and you’re pretty sure the drug store mascara you’re wearing isn’t waterproof and you can feel your spit and saliva coating your chin. He lightly taps your cheek as you moan around him again, ‘would he be ok with you touching yourself?’ You think. Needing to do something.
“Fuck.” He moans quietly. “Are you touching yourself, little girl? Praying to my cock while on your knees with your hand between your thighs?” He can’t see your other hand but he wishes he could. Wants to see how wet you are, watch you touch yourself in this booth.
You show him your free hand, and look up at him, waiting for his permission to slide your free hand into your panties. You suck on his cock a little harder as he presses it deeper, past your tonsils and almost to the back of your throat. You feel as though you’re about to choke and you start to pull back.
“Touch yourself.” Dave orders quietly, knowing he’s not going to last much longer. “Fuck, slide your fingers inside your pussy.”
You briefly drop your hold on his cock, using both hands to hoist up your skirt and rip your panties down just past your thighs. You slide in hand between your legs and resume your grip on his cock with the other, you rub your clit, trying to replicate the feeling of his fingers on you.
You bob your head on his cock a little faster, your form sloppier than he’s used to and you start to gag around his length.
“Don’t choke yourself.” Dave chides, the last thing he wants is to have you vomit in the confessional. “We’ll get there. I’m gonna cum.”
You slow the motions on your clit and return your focus on sucking his cock, you’ve given yourself a little relief and now you want to focus on making him cum. You tighten to grip on the base of his cock, careful not to painfully press the rosary against him too hard and suck a little harder, taking him deeper and breathing through your nose as he just instructed. His grip on your face tightens and his strokes get a little sloppier as he rocks in and out of your mouth.
“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum.” He warns you, feeling the edge of his orgasm starting to build up. “When- when my cock starts to throb, start swallowing.” He instructs as he pushes his hips forward again and again until he feels it. His balls draw up tight against his body. “N-now.” He groans, your name coming out of his mouth on a low growl as he starts to flood your mouth.
The sound of him groaning you name unlocks something primal in you and the need to please him grows stronger than ever. You swallow the best you can as your mouth becomes coated in his cum, the saltiness of him consuming your tastebuds and sliding down the back of your throat. You take as much as you can, but you feel some dripping out the corners of your mouth.
It seems to last forever. Spurt after spurt of his cum pumping onto your tongue. He groans when he feels the last of it work out of his cock and he twitches in your mouth, panting quietly. “Shit.”
Slowly you move off of him, letting your hands fall into your lap as you stare up at his dark eyes, your chin shiny with your saliva and his cum, mascara running down your cheeks and your hair ruffled from his hands in it. You must look horrendous, you think to yourself.
“Did I do okay?” you ask and even you can’t hide from the innocence drowning each word.
“Perfect.” Dave coos, his hand coming back through the slot to cup your cheek and he kneels down to look at you through the access. His eyes light up when he sees how debauched you look and his thumb swipes through some of the cum to smear it into your skin. “You did perfect, little girl.” He licks his lips and smiles. “You look so pretty like this.”
“I must look a mess,” you reply meekly, “Can I do that again? When you’re ready?”
Dave groans, happy that you are wanting to do it again. “Go to my office.” Dave tells you, reaching in his pocket and handing you a key. “I will meet you there.”
“Wait,” you say before leaving. You dig into your bag and pull out some makeup wipes and start dabbing your face, somehow missing every stream of mascara lacing your cheeks, “Did I get it all?”
He chuckles quietly and takes a wipe from your hand to finish cleaning your face up. Wiping away all visible evidence of your sin. “Go wait for me, little girl.” He orders. “But don’t make yourself cum, yet. I’ll make you feel good.”
You make your way out of the chapel and down the hall, weaving your way through the crowd of people and towards his door. As you approach you see Deandra sighing as she waits outside his door and you can’t help but feel a little smug as she gives up and walks away.
When the hall clears you unlock the door and let yourself in, taking a few minutes to look at his bookshelf, before making your way around to his chair.
Your fingertips trace the soft leather, before you pull it out and take a seat. Making yourself comfortable whilst you wait for him.
Dave is about ten minutes behind you. He had sent out an email cancelling the class for the day and had stopped by the cafeteria and picked up food for both of you. He opens the door and smirks as he sees you sprawled on his chair. “Comfortable, little girl?”
“Yep,” you reply sweetly with a little shrug, “You know it’s not going to look good if I turn up to your class late, if you’re planning on making me a feast,” you say gesturing to the food in his hands. Unaware that class is cancelled.
He snorts and sets the bag down on the desk before he turns towards you again. “Good thing you aren’t going to class.” He murmurs before he crooks his finger at you. “Come here.”
“But I’m comfortable here,” you say feeling a little braver than usual, “Why don’t you come here?”
He chuckles at your moxy, deciding to indulge you since you had just sucked his cock. Striding around the desk, he holds the back of it while he takes your chin and lifts it, stretching your neck out as he lowers his head for a kiss. Eager to taste his cum on your tongue.
For the second day in a row he has taken you by surprise with a kiss, you let him take the lead as you get it used to the soft dexterous heat, before realising that he didn’t lock the door and it’s likely a certain visitor is on her way back to his office following the news that class was cancelled.
You pull back and rest your forehead on his, “Deandra was looking for you, we should probably lock the door unless you want her to waltz in.”
Standing straight, Dave walks towards the door and flips the lock, closing you both inside his office once again. “Open the bag.” He tells you as he turns around. “You need to eat.”
“You’re bossy, have I ever told you that?” you say as you reach into the bag and pull out some fruit cups, eggs, bacon, pancakes and waffles. “This isn’t all for me right?” you ask as you spread the boxes out across his desk, still comfortably nestled in his seat.
“I was looking for you when I saw you going to church.” Dave has no issue with you being in his chair and settles down in the seat across the desk and shrugs. “Was going to make sure you ate properly.” He ignores the bossy comment because he knows he is, and that you secretly like it.
“Mhmm,” you say as you take a bite of eggs, “I mean technically you gave me a meal in the church.”
Dave stares at you for a second, speechless at the dirty comment that just came out of your innocent mouth before he barks out a laugh. “Yes, I did.” He hums.
“Sorry,” you say after a few seconds, “Sometimes I forget to engage my brain before I speak. One of the perks of a lonely childhood I suppose.” You push over a little tray you’ve made for him, before taking a large bite of a waffle.
“Stop apologizing to me.” Dave tells you mildly as he leans forward and takes the tray. “I was admiring how dirty it sounded coming from that innocent - well, not innocent anymore - mouth of yours.” His smirk is smug and he winks when you look at him.
You breathe out a little giggle and you wiggle down in his chair, “How long have you worked here?” you ask, wanting to know him a little better.
"Nearly ten years." Dave tells you, figuring he deserves to tell you something of his background. "This was my alma mater too."
“Really?” you say not meaning to sound so stunned by his admission. “Don’t tell me, you’re the son of a clergyman too?” You say with another giggle.
"No." Dave chuckles and leans back in his chair, raising his brow at you. "I was actually headed to Seminary." He admits.
“Mhm,” you say back, “I can’t imagine they taught you to… do that,” you say in reference to your dalliance in the confessional, “there.”
"No, but after figuring out that I wasn't one for the rules and restrictions of the cloth, it became intriguing." Dave chuckles, watching the embarrassment bloom over your face.
“Oh,” you say before digging into some pineapple, “Can I ask you something else?”
"Sure." He takes a bite of his own meal, pleased that you are eating vigorously and not being shy about it. He hates when someone thinks that eating heartily is a bad thing.
“There are so many… gorgeous girls in our class,” you say, avoiding eye contact, “Why me?”
"You aren't gorgeous?" He asks, his tone making it clear that he doesn't believe that at all.
You roll your eyes at him and start picking at your food again, ignoring his question.
Dave harrumphs, not liking your non answer and decides to turn it around on you. "Why not you?" He asks. "Or better yet, why me?"
You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your mouth as you look up at him, “You’re… you’re kind of the most attractive human being i’ve ever seen. And I just… feel like I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He can't deny that it boosts his ego when you say that you find him wildly attractive. "How would you disappoint me?" He asks, tilting his head at you in confusion.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing, you say with a shrug.” I worry I’ll do it wrong or I'll be boring… I don’t know.” You attempt to change the subject with another question, “Do you have siblings?”
"It's my job to teach you how, little girl." Dave reminds you, not bringing up the very real fact that you could say no at any point in time. That you could go to the school administration and get him in trouble. You don't seem to understand the power that you hold. But he moves on to your other question. "I have an older sister."
“Will you teach me more?” you ask quietly, “Is she in the church?”
"I'll teach you as much as you want." Dave promises with a wicked smirk. "Soon you'll be sitting on my cock in that chair while you recite your catechism." He doesn't wait for your scandalised expression before he moves on. "She's a nurse."
Your face burns at the casual way he speaks, you want to ask if they’ll be anyone else, he’ll be teaching. But instead ask something else, “Will I lose… will you take my virginity in here?” you ask with wide eyes.
Dave snorts, but he doesn't ridicule you for that question. Most of your sexual experience has been in this office but he finds he doesn’t want to take you here. "I would prefer to take your virginity in a bed." He sets the tray down and spreads his legs as he speaks. "You should be spread out on a bed and every inch of your body kissed and licked before I take your innocence." The fact that you are speaking like it's a foregone conclusion bodes well for him and he is eager to find out when that will happen.
Heat floods throughout your body at his words, ‘Are you really considering giving your virginity to this man? Are you really considering giving away your virtue to a man you’re sure has no interest in ever marrying you… of ever loving you?’ your teeth find your lower lip again as you brain bombards you with a final question, ‘Are you really considering disappointing your parents and going down a road they spent years blocking with bible studies, mass every evening, making sure your weekends and after school activities were revolved around the church?’ And then the words leave your mouth and linger in the air, “When… and where?”
"My house." Dave decides immediately, knowing it would not be good in a college dorm bed. They are too narrow and uncomfortable for him. His bed is where he wants you. His sheets stained with your innocence if you bleed. "When is.... up to you." He had meant what he said, he wouldn't force you into something you didn't ask for. The point was to get you to give yourself to him, not to take.
“Your house?” you repeat, “I’d like that.” You take a deep breath before nibbling on some more fruit, “I’m not sure when though.”
Dave shrugs, disappointed but he knew this wasn't going to be a quick conquest. "You'll let me know when you are ready." He tells you lightly, like it's the easiest thing in the world. "And I'll make it amazing for you."
“And we can still do other things in the meantime?” you ask as the pulsating between your legs grows stronger.
The slow smirk blooms on his face and Dave nods. "Of course we can, little girl. I still have to finger you, eat your pretty little asshole, rub my cock through your folds, cum on your pussy, have you suck my cock while I eat your pussy. So many other things to do."
“I liked it when you tasted me,” you admit, “I’d like to try that other stuff… but i’d like you to keep doing that as well.”
"Of course you would." Dave chuckles, well aware of how good oral sex is. "No one turns down head." He thinks about it for a moment and stands up. "I'll give you a choice, little girl. I can eat your pussy while you finish your food. Or we can go back to my house and I'll show you how to suck my cock while you have your pussy eaten."
“The latter,” you say far too quickly and internally chide yourself for appearing so desperately.
"Good choice." Dave smiles in approval and picks up his tray again. "Eat up, little girl. You will need your strength."
You eat the rest of your breakfast in silence, occasionally stealing a glance at Dave who’s finishing off his own. You take a step out of his chair and start to clean up the empty containers.
"I'll clean this up." Dave waves you off and stands up. "You need to change out of your uniform. Put on something comfortable.....and easy to take off." He smirks, imagining you naked and sitting on his face.
“Okay,” you say with a small smile, thinking about that sundress you have hidden at the bottom of your suitcase, “Meet you in about twenty minutes?”
Dave hums, looking down at his task as he agrees. "Little girl?" He calls you back right as you reach the door to leave. "Don't change your panties." He orders as he looks up. "I want to feel how wet sucking my cock got you."
The second you’re in your room, you start to strip out of your uniform, a twang or guilt rearing its ugly head at the fact you’re about to skip the other two lessons you have today.
You dive into your suitcase and pull out the yellow sundress you bought in secret a few days ago. Carefully cutting off the tags and sliding it on, you freshen yourself up the best you can before taking a few seconds to have a look at your panties.
White of course, just as Dave likes them, and with an obvious patch of wetness that you know he’s going to tease you over.
You shake off the nerves bubbling in your tummy, grab your phone, keys and bag before bouncing down to the spot he told you to meet him.
Dave takes his time, picking up the trash and shoving it back in the bag so he can throw it away on the way to his car. He'll drive over to your dorm and pick you up before he takes you to his house. When he opens the door, he rocks back when he comes face to face with Deandra. "Class is cancelled." He tells her, not willing to dawdle.
You don’t see his car when you get to the spot and take a seat on one of the benches, punching out a quick text to let him know where you are. The breeze makes you shiver a little and second guess your choice of outfit, but you figure you’ll be wearing a lot less very soon.
Deandra pouts for a second, glancing down at the bag in his hand and turns on a smile. "I- I was hoping to talk to you about our last assignment?" She asks hopefully.
Shaking his head, Dave pulls his keys out of his pocket. "You can email me." He tells her as he locks up. "Office hours were also cancelled in the email. I'm going home."
After a few minutes you see his car pull up and you climb into the passenger side. “Hey,” you greet him, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss him.
"Sorry, baby girl." Dave reaches over and squeezes your knee as he pulls away from the curb. "Deandra came up to me when I was coming out of the office and it took a few minutes to shoo her away."
“If I look away too long, she’s likely to get those acrylics into you, Professor,” you say with a giggle, “Also… baby girl… I like that.”
"You like that better than 'little girl'?" Dave asks with a smirk. You might not have noticed the possessive tone to your voice, but he did.
“I like them both,” you say with a shrug, “and don’t think I missed you ignoring the first thing I said.”
"What?" Dave looks over at you for a moment before he looks back at the road as he navigates off campus and towards his house. "Her sinking her claws into me? Not going to happen." He knows what type of girl she is and he's not interested.
“Good,” you say with a slightly smug tone, “How far do you live from here?”
"Only about ten minutes." Dave tells you, having bought a house years ago when he was first hired on to the college. He hadn't seen a reason to rent and it had paid off to have a place away from campus.
“Nice,” you reply sweetly, playing with your hands in your lap.
"You seem nervous, baby girl." Dave hums. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
“I’m not nervous,” you admit, “I just need to… never mind.” Embarrassment floods through you as you nearly admit how desperate you are for him to touch you, how the ache in the middle of your legs is growing stronger and almost painful.
"You need to do what?" Dave asks, looking back over at you again. "Tell me what you need."
“It hurts,” you say as he drives out of view of campus, your hands snaking up your thighs and under your dress, “Like if I don’t touch it, it’s gonna explode.”
You're turned on. Dave grunts in understanding and bites his lip as he contemplates what you should do. Finally, he reaches out and puts his hand on your thigh. "Put my hand on your clit, baby girl." He orders, wanting you to use his fingers. "In your clit or inside your pussy."
You place your hand on top of his and slowly lead it up your legs, opening them wider as you do. Leading it down to feel the wet patch on your panties before pulling your panties to the side and putting his hand on your clit.
“Jesus, little girl.” Dave groans, wanting to push his fingers inside you but you had brought him to your clit. He quickly turns his wrist so he can start rubbing it for you. “Want to cum?” He asks, knowing you do.
“Yes please,” you beg, desperate for something to ease that ache.
“Close your eyes.” Dave orders. “Just feel my finger on your clit.”
“Yes, Dave,” you breathe out as you do what he says, “Please.”
He makes slow, tight circles on your clit, keeping firm pressure on it as he drives. Feeling it throb against his digit as your chest heaves and your hips start to grind down subtly.
An endless stream of moans pour from your lips as he works something spectacular from you. “Oh, Daddy,” you moan without realising what you’re saying until it’s floating midair.
He chuckles, sliding a finger down through your folds to wet it even more before moving back to the bundle of nerves.
It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over that edge, whimpering uncontrollably in your seat.
“That’s it, baby girl.” He coos, close to the house and his fingers speed up. “Cum for daddy.”
You cum hard and with another moan of his name, “I think you’re trying to kill me, Professor York.”
Dave huffs, pulling his fingers out of your panties and turns the wheel to turn onto his street. “So I should take you back to campus?” He asks teasingly. “Give you a break?”
“Don’t you dare,” you say with a loud giggle.
It’s only another few moments before he is pulling into the driveway of his house, opening the garage door as he pulls up so he can drive right in. “Too late now.” He grins as he winks at you. “I’ve got you home.”
His house is beautiful. The front yard is perfectly maintained and the house perfectly painted. “Wow,” you say, “This is… gorgeous.”
“Thank you. It was rundown when I bought it, but it’s been slowly improving.” Dave pulls into the garage and closes the door as he parks and shuts off the engine.
“You did this?” you ask in shock.
Dave smirks as he gets out of the car. “My parents were poor, I paid my way through college working for a construction crew building houses whenever I wasn’t in class.”
“You truly do have magical hands,” you say as you step out of the car, “It really is a beautiful home.”
“Thank you.” He motions you over to the door into the house. “It was college working my ass off and a partial scholarship, or the military.”
“Your parents must be super proud of you,” you say, reaching out and gently touching his elbow.
“They disowned me when I didn’t go to seminary.” Dave tells you matter of factly. There was nothing he could do about his parents' views, so he didn’t dwell on them.
Your stomach drops at his revelation, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t.” Dave assures you. “It’s their loss. I don’t let it affect me.” He guides you into the house and the kitchen. “What do you want to drink? Water, juice, tea, soda?”
“Water would be nice, thank you,” you say, “And your house is just as beautiful inside as it is outside.”
“Doesn’t look like a bachelor pad, you mean?” Dave jokes, opening the cabinet and pulls out a glass to get you some water.
“I can’t say I’d know what one of them looks like, so I'll just have to take your word for it,” you say, reaching out to take the water and thanking him.
It reminds him again of how sheltered you have been. “Do you want to look around? Take the tour?”
“Lead the way, Sir.”
It’s important for you to feel comfortable, so he takes his time. Slowly wandering through the house with you, telling you about the house and what he had done before guiding you to the master bedroom. The door is open and his bed is made, so Dave stands in the doorway and gestures for you to enter if you want.
You smile at him before pushing past him and walking over to the bed, and perching yourself on the edge. He’s still standing in the doorway, as you run your hands across the soft duvet. “How do you want me?”
“That’s a loaded question, baby girl.” Dave admits, still not moving from his spot. “How I want you, is naked and filled with my cock. How I get you, is up to you.”
“How about we start with the naked part and go from there?” you ask as you stand up and slip the straps of your dress off your shoulders, before letting the whole thing fall down and pool at your feet.
Dave groans, drinking in the sight of you in your pretty white bra and panties, looking innocent but your face is filled with dirty thoughts. “That sounds good.” Dave reaches for his own button down and starts unbuttoning it, shrugging it off his shoulders and tosses it down. Both of your shoes are by the kitchen door and he reaches for his jeans.
The sight of him without a shirt makes your breath hitch, the wide expanse of his strong shoulders making you feel like you might drool. “Should I take my bra and panties off now, Daddy?”
“Take your bra off.” He orders, lowering the zipper of his jeans and starting to push them down his hips. He’s wearing boxers today and they are already starting to tent as he watches you remove your bra and reveal your breasts to him.
You let your bra drop down on the floor, saying nothing as you notice the large bulge in his boxers. “Tell me what you want to do to me,” you say in a whisper.
“Lay down on the bed and spread your legs, baby girl.” He kicks off his jeans and smirks as he does. “I want to see the wet spot over your pussy.”
You immediately climb back on the bed, making yourself comfortable before spreading your legs, eager to feel him touch you somehow.
The last thing is for his boxers to come off. Despite you sucking his cock, you’ve not seen him naked, probably never seen a naked man before right now as he pushes his boxers down, cock bobbing as he kicks them off and stands straight for you to look your fill.
“Holy fuck,” you curse before scolding yourself internally, “I-uh, I need you.” Your eyes flick up and down his bare form, you want to kiss every inch of him, you want to feel every part of him and you want him to do whatever he wants to you.
“What do you need, baby girl?” Dave asks, starting to walk towards you slowly, eyes fixed to the soaking wet patch of fabric over your pussy. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I need you to touch me, kiss me… use me,” you admit sheepishly, “Whatever you want to do.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say, little girl.” There is a growl to his voice and his cock twitches. “You know what I want.”
“Tell me,” you beg, wanting to hear the depravity fall from his lips.
“I want to suck on your tits.” Dave murmurs, “until you are squirming and begging me to lick your pussy. Then I want to lick your pussy until you cum all over my face like a messy little girl.” Dave sets one knee on the bed and leans in, cock hanging between his legs. “Then, I want to kiss up your body and slide my cock into the tightest, sweetest pussy I will ever have. Fill you with every inch of this.” His other hand wraps around his cock and he squeezes himself, groaning quietly. “After you cum on my cock and I’m about to cum, I want to pull out and paint your skin, your soft, untouched skin with ropes of my cum.”
“Yes,” you say as you rub your fingers between your legs, “Do it. Do it now.”
Euphoric victory hums through his veins and he nods. “Whatever you want, baby girl.” He had permission, he can taint you, deflower you. Soil you for any other and know that he was the first. He crawls up the bed and hovers over you, leaning in and pressing his lips to your gently before he ducks down and wraps his mouth around one of your tight nipples.
It comes to no surprise to you how responsive your body is to him, you gently gasp as he sucks hard on your nipple, your hand coming up to entangle in his hair. Your soft moans fill the air as you realise that you don’t need to hold back, “I’m all yours to do whatever you want with,” you whisper as he continues to tease your nipple with his tongue.
“Naughty girl.” He teases, switching to the other breast. “Sinful.”
“Should I start to repent?” you ask with a moan as his teeth graze you.
“Maybe you should.” Dave grins up at you. “Pray while I’m fucking you.”
“Pray for salvation as you send me towards damnation?” you say with another giggle, “Ruin me for whoever my parents make me marry.”
“Fuck.” Dave hisses, frowning as he pops off your tit. “You marry who you want.” He growls, suddenly pissed off at the idea of you being married off to some virginal twat who doesn’t know shit about pleasure.
You giggle again, “I’m pretty sure that my parents have already chosen someone for me, I’ll just need to cross the T’s and dot the I’s. My mom will have reassured his mom that my pussy is untouched, my lips unkissed, but they don’t need to know. They’ll never know I let the first and only man -ohh just like that- I've wanted to use me as he wishes.”
He has to stop talking about it or it will piss him off. Instead of answering, he bites down on your tit, just above your nipple to make you gasp out before he sucks on your tit again like you asked him to.
“Mark me up,” you beg, “Please.”
You love the way his mouth feels on your sensitive bud, the little streaks of pain when he drags his teeth across it. Every movement feels like it’s dripping with sin, and your body craves more.
He does as you ask, until your skin is littered in impressions of his teeth, making him smirk at the sight.
“Taste me,” you begin to plead over and over, “I need your tongue.”
You squirm under him on the bed, looking down at his handiwork. The bruises and teeth impressions making you gasp, “Make me yours,” you moan out as you trace your fingers on a particularly prominent mark.
Dave groans, moving back up and kisses your lips before he winks and starts to kiss down your body. Every inch is covered with his lips and he bites your hip playfully.
You groan at his ministrations, loving the way he’s teasing you, but also wanting to feel his mouth on you.
He's eaten you out, he had tasted you yesterday but this time there is a purpose. He wants to make it good for you, to get you wet enough that you don't hurt when he takes your virginity. His cock throbs in anticipation as he pulls your panties off and settles between your thighs to hook your legs up over his shoulders so he can spread you wide and spear his tongue into your core.
“Make me feel good,” you ask as sweetly as you can, watching the way he’s licking his lips as he stares at your glistening pussy.
It is the easiest order that he would ever follow, smirking and nodding. His eyes are fixed on yours while he lowers his mouth to your pussy and he groans at the tangy taste of your cum bursting on his tongue as he slides it though your folds and flicks it over your clit.
You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, knowing he won’t like that. So you keep yours locked with his as he begins lapping at your clit, “Dave,” you moan, repeating his name over and over like it’s the only word you’ll ever speak again.
He takes his time, he has all the time in the world right now. His classes are cancelled, the doors are locked and his phone is on silent. Right now all that matters is you right here in his bed. He smirks and pulls his mouth away from your throbbing clit. "Recite the Divine prayers, baby girl." He orders you before taking your clit back into his mouth.
You make the Make in the Sign of the Cross, before reciting The Chaplet, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. - Mhmmm, oh Dave - Amen.” You smirk as you begin to recite St. Faustina’s Prayer for Sinners, “O Jesus, eternal Truth, our Life, I call upon You and I beg Your mercy for poor sinners. O sweetest Heart of my Lord, full of pity and unfathomable mercy, I plead with You for poor sinners. - Oh god, Please, Dave -” you cut yourself off with a loud gasp as he does something magnificent with your clit, words failing you as your thighs start to shake uncontrollably and your breaths become more shallow.
Every swipe of his tongue matches your words. Keeping tempo as you recite the prayer while his tongue sins. He groans into your pussy, loving how your breath hitches when his tongue flicks and your voice pitches higher when he sucks on the bundle of nerves. He wants you to cum, he needs you to cum and he doubles down on his ministrations to make that happen.
You cum hard and fast, your orgasm ravishing your whole body, making you scream his name and unconsciously pull his face even closer to your pussy as you ride out your high.
His scalp burns as you pull on his hair, making him moan and your juices flooding his mouth. His tongue is still moving while your thighs are squeezing his head and shaking around his ears.
“Kiss me,” you beg as you finally regain your composure, vaguely aware of him somewhere between your thighs, “Kiss me and fill me up with your cock.”
It's music to his ears and he swears that he could cum right now. His own breath shaky with excitement and anticipation as he crawls back up your body and his thighs slide between yours. His cock rests against your belly while he presses his wet mouth to yours, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth and feeding your taste to you.
You kiss him with all the strength you can muster, getting braver with every kiss, feeling more confident and licking your way into his mouth. You feel his cock twitch against your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation.
There is a moment where he waits, still kissing you. Giving you a chance to change your mind if you want. Giving you the chance to keep your virginity for now if you wish to keep it. Wanting to hear you tell him yes one more time.
You can see the way his dark eyes soften for a few seconds, “I want this,” you whisper, “I’ve spent my whole life letting people make decisions for me. And unless you don’t want to… I want you to fuck me.”
"Baby girl...." Dave nudges your nose with his and kisses you again. "I want nothing more." He promises, cock twitching.
He slowly lifts his hips and gives you enough space between your bodies to look while he reaches down and takes himself in hand. Sliding the head of his cock through your slick and puffy folds and teases the entrance of your pussy by circling it several times before he positions himself.
Staring into your eyes, Dave lowers his body to yours to press you into the bed, his hips nudging slowly forward until the head of his cock slips into your heat and he starts to feel you.
You wince a little at the stretch of him, he takes his time, pushing in inch by inch, one of your hands wraps around his left shoulder and squeezes a little.
"It's okay....it's okay, baby girl." He stops when he feels it. The tiniest amount of resistance and he gives you a moment. Knowing that with a push of his hips, you will be considered tarnished. He kisses you softly. "Are you ready?" He whispers.
“Yes,” you say with a little smile, “I’m ready, Dave.”
He breathes in your cry when his hips snap forward, breaking through the barrier of your innocence and planting himself fully inside your walls.
You whimper into his mouth as he plants his lips firmly over yours, it stings, the stretch of him almost indescribable as he splits you open.
You’re not sure if it’s overwhelming, or not enough. You feel completely consumed by him, not able to form a coherent thought as he takes over all your senses.
"You're doing so good, baby girl, you feel so good." He whispers when he pulls his lips back and starts to kiss across your cheeks and your nose, giving you another minute to adjust to him.
“Do you… do you need to move?” you ask as you let your fingertips trail up and down his back.
"When you're ready for me to." He twitches inside you and pulls back so he can look into your eyes. "You tell me when you want to feel more, baby girl."
Your lip trembles at how soft he’s being with you, so soft that you could almost imagine him really caring for you, you quickly push that thought away and whisper for him to ‘move.’
Dave groans when he pulls his hips back, withdrawing from the heat of your body and hating how he doesn't have the tight squeeze of your walls around him before he slowly pushes back in. Feeling the way your walls yield as he fills you again so smoothly.
His thrusts are slow and calculated, he takes his time with each one, concentrating intently until he finds that spot inside of you that makes you yelp out loud.
"Good, baby girl?" He pants out, sliding his hands under your shoulder blades and he groans when you squeeze him tight. "You like that?"
“Yes,” you manage to choke out, “Keep moving.” You plead. “Please, Dave.” Words fail you as he continues to thrust in and out of you, the pain reducing with each drag of his cock and the pleasure increasing as you adapt to the girth of him.
Rocking his hips, Dave keeps his pace steady and the angle the same that had made you cry out. Wanting to make you feel good and cum on his cock. "Gonna- fuck, baby, you're so good."
“I think I’m gonna cum,” you pant seconds before your clamping down around his thick cock, and flooding him with your cum, it takes you by surprise how intense it feels and you find yourself digging your fingernails into his back as it all becomes a little too much.
He moans with you, gritting his teeth so he doesn’t fill you up, knowing that your pretty, untouched pussy isn’t protected against pregnancy. He has to pull out and he wants to feel every second of your pleasure. “Good girl, fuck, good girl.” He praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck.
Soft whimpers fill the room as he frees himself from you, you feel exhausted, unable to move from the spot your laying it, just basking in the soft attention he continues to pay you whilst you come back down, you feel the tip of him nudge against your clit before the sound of him aggressively stroking his cock floods your ears.
Dave’s teeth are buried in his bottom lip, barely suppressing a grunt as he works his cock. The slick of your cum coating him along with the thin strings of blood from your innocence. Marking him with your virginity and making him burn. His eyes are nearly black as his body trembles, jerking slightly as he hovers over you. “Fuck, fuck.” He hisses, your name grunted out right before he starts to cum.
You moan as you feel the warm spurts of his thick seed coat your pussy, and drip down through your folds, it feels like he cums forever. You whimper softly as your cunt clenches hard every time he lets a raspy grunt free and occasionally lets your name break free from his lips.
When he is done, your skin is covered in him. Thick ropes of cum splattered on your skin and glistening under the light. You look like an angel, dragged down to hell and he wants to take a picture to immortalise it but he doesn’t think that would be allowed. Instead he pants over you, his hand holding your knee and he looks over you like a priceless work of art.
“How was I?” you ask as you look up at him studying you, “Did I make you feel good?”
Dave chuckles, enjoying your eager expression. “You were amazing. You should see how you look right now, covered in me.”
“Show me,” you say, gesturing to your phone on the chest of drawers, “I want to see.”
His grin is immediately as he reaches for your phone. “I’ll delete it after I show you.” He promises, holding it out to you to unlock.
You punch in the key code quickly and then let your exhausted arms rest at your sides, “Show me,” you whisper again as he begins to angle your camera.
Dave snaps several pictures, quickly sending one of them to his phone before he turns it around and shows you the pictures he had taken.
“Oh wow,” you gasp, barely recognising the girl in the photo, before yawning loudly and looking away, “I feel exhausted.”
Dave smirks and takes the phone back from you to delete the photos like he had promised and sets it down on the nightstand. “Why don’t you pray while I clean you up and then we will take a nap?” He suggests.
“I don’t wanna pray right now,” you whisper, “But a nap sounds good.”
Nodding, he leans down and kisses your forehead. “I’ll go get a wash rag.”
You’re already asleep by the time he returns with the rag, you don’t feel him gently clean you up or feel him climb into bed beside you.
Dave pulls you against him, enormously pleased when you curl into his chest and sigh, settling into his arms. There is a blood stain on the sheets and he has quite a bit to write about tomorrow.
[Six Months Later]
He whispers in your ear to ssshhhh as the door to his office is knocked a few more times. You’re thankful you’re the one who locked it today, confident that no one will be able to come in and find you sitting on his lap. Your uniform skirt hitched about around your hips, sitting on his cock whilst he draws lazy circles on your clit with one hand and makes papers with the other.
Your confidence had grown since Christmas break, and going back home to find out that your suspicions were founded. Your parents had been talking to one of the elders who had a grandson your age, a few years ahead of you at St Brennans that they were expecting you to marry. Your mother had gushed about how he’d seen you in the hall a few times and felt that you would indeed make a suitable wife, it took everything in you to ask if he’d still find you suitable if they all knew that Dave had developed a few hobby that involved bending you over his legs and spanking you as you recited the verses that were bled into your skin as a child.
The very next day you found yourself driving back to your dorm but instead of stopping in front of your building you kept driving, until you arrived at your Professor's house.
Unable to spill your guts and tell him what was upsetting you, the second he shut the front door, you ripped off your jeans and bent yourself over the back of his couch and begged him to make you forget.
He proceeded to drop to his knees and lightly tease your clit for a few minutes before dragging his tongue up and burying it in your ass. You can still feel the way your body tensed up as he took you by surprise, never having touched you there before, only briefly mentioning he’d wanted to.
He stuck two thick digits inside of you whilst making you squirm and whimper on his tongue. Seconds after you came he sheathed his cock inside of you, filling you the hilt and pulling hard on your hips, fucking you harder than ever before and making you scream that you were his.
After then you found yourself more and more pliant, always ready and willing for him to use your body however he wanted, all whilst trying to push away the obvious feelings you were getting for him.
“Don’t cum,” he orders as he feels your walls flutter around him, “If you cum, I’ll bend you over this desk and you’ll spend the rest of the day unable to sit down. And that just wouldn’t look good to your bible study pals now, would it?”
You groan as the circles he’s drawing on your clit get more precise and make you squirm even more. He knows what he’s doing, he wants you to soak his cock and say his name like a desperate little prayer as he works you towards heaven. As you tremble more and more, he drops his pen and sneaks his now free under your sweater and starts to massage and squeeze your tit, ‘Don’t cum’ he warns again, knowing you have no way of stopping yourself and you’re definitely about to defy his orders.
His cock twitches inside of you as you flood his lap, cumming around him hard as he tuts throughout your high, still refusing to let up on the way he’s working your clit.
You hear him say something about you being a naughty girl, before he’s pushing you off of his lap and over the stacks of papers on his desk. “How many this time?” he says out loud as he admires the view, his hand coming down to knead to flesh of your ass, “At least 5 for defying my orders and I can’t ignore this now, can I?” he says whilst grabbing at your skirt, “The rule is 2 inches below the knee at the very minimum, yes? And you’ve got your pretty little pussy out on full display for me… so that’s got to be at least another 15 more.” He coos mockingly as you groan on his desk, “Oh I know poor baby, but you’ve got to follow the rules.”
Dave smirks at how filthy you are now, begging for his cock and anything that he will do to you. “Get your rosary beads out.” He orders, rubbing your ass and warming up your skin before he lands the first strike on your ass.
He’s done what he wants with you and he loves it, loves how you take everything and beg for more. How’s he’s turned you from a sweet, innocent little girl and turned you into a cock hungry little whore. Leaving your Bible study to come suck his cock and let him cum on your face.
His secret stash of photos has grown. Password protected and for his eyes only, he has dozens of photos of your body covered in his cum, filled with his cock. On your knees with your innocent eyes looking up at him or your pussy stuffed full. He loves it.
You reach into your bag and pick out your rosary as he instructed, “I’ve got it,” you say as innocently as you can, knowing that he’s about to mark you up in his favourite way.
“I want you to count out the licks.” He leans over and coos into your ear. “Then you are going to use your rosary in prayer while you sit on my cock again. And you don’t cum.”
“Yes, sir,” you respond as a mixture of anticipation and excitement courses throughout your veins.
Sir. You know he loves it when you acknowledge the power imbalance between you. Sir or daddy being his favourites. He hums in approval and smirks as he slaps your ass again.
You choke out the word “Seven,” unsure if that was indeed number seven or number eight. His large hand gently rubs as the burn patch of your ass and you wonder if he’ll make you ride out the 20 he suggested.
Dave makes sure that he keeps the tempo of your punishment slow, working you up and making you anticipate. Knowing your pussy will be throbbing when he slides back inside you. Smirking to himself, he pushes your foot wider to spread your legs more. The next slap aimed for your pussy.
You yelp louder than you definitely should in your professors office. The pain is almost unbearable as you realise what he did.
“Shhhhhh.” Dave chuckles, fingers sliding through the mess your orgasm had left. “Do I need to stuff your panties in your mouth?” As much as he loves your virginal white panties, you had bought some white thongs that he had stripped off of you today.
You half mumble the word ‘no’ before falling forward onto his desk, he gave you a word to use when it all gets too much and it’s hanging off the tip of your tongue, “Dave,” you murmur, “Please.”
“Do you think you deserve a reward, baby girl?” He can tell you’re overwhelmed, nearly to the edge of making him stop and he caresses your ass again. “Do you want to sit on daddy’s cock for him again? Can you be a good girl this time?”
“Yes,” you just about manage to croak out, “I want to sit you on your cock.” You push yourself up on steady legs, and much to your surprise he gently leads you around to face him.
Dave sits down and pulls you into his lap, opening your legs and making you straddle him. “Just like this, little girl.” He murmurs, reaching between you so he can line up his cock to push inside your sweet pussy.
You slowly sink down on him, resting your hands on his shoulders as you do so. You moan softly as he fills you, somehow feeling even bigger from this angle.
“Feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs, letting you lean forward and tuck your face into his neck. His hands rub slow circles on the gooseflesh skin on your ass, slowly caressing you while you flutter around him.
You hum in agreement, letting your arms wrap around him, “You always feel good,” you admit as you nuzzle your face against his skin, “always.”
Humming in approval, his fingers graze the beads. “Start praying, sweetheart.”
You start reciting a prayer of self protection into the crook of his neck, trying to focus on not moving, trying to focus on not clamping down around his hard cock and milking him of all of his pleasure, “Dave,” you whine as he very slowly fucks himself up into you just to tease, “Don’t be mean.”
He huffs in amusement, loving how you are whining his name. “Greed.” He rasps out, twitching inside you again. “So greedy for your pleasure.”
“Who’s fault is that?” you ask as you suck on his neck, don’t hard enough to leave marks, but enough to make him hiss.
“You want to blame me?” He grunts, gripping your ass more firmly and rocking you on him while you curl against his chest.
“Yes,” you reply petulantly, before bringing your face up to his, “I do.”
Dave smirks, making his cock twitch inside you just to make you gasp. He leans into you, making you think that he was going to kiss you but his teeth find your bottom lip. He bites down on it, loving how you moan.
You purposely clench down around him as he nibbles your lip. Your hands reaching up and gently gripping his jaw softly. “You know I’m going to have to leave for my next class at some point?” you say with an exaggerated pout.
“You don’t have to.” Dave huffs, kissing your lips and biting it again. “You could stay.” His hips thrust up. “Right here.” He thrusts again. “All day.”
“Yeah?” You say as he fucks up into you, “How are you going to teach your next class with me keeping your cock nice and warm?”
“I’ll teach over zoom by powerpoint.” He teases, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. “Or maybe just show everyone what a bad girl you are.”
“How do you think your number #1 fan would react to seeing me bouncing up and down on your cock?” you ask as you grind down on him.
He chuckles, knowing how jealous you get over Deandra. You’re possessive and honestly it doesn’t bother him as much as he had thought it would. It shows how deep he’s gotten.
“I have to go in like two minutes, Dave,” you say as you start bouncing up and down on his cock a little faster, “Unless you want to explain to Professor Thomas why I’m late to his lecture again.”
He rolls his eyes, huffing at the idea of talking to that pompous windbag again and listening to his lecturing about decorum. “Fine, baby girl.” He slaps your ass playfully and urges you to ride him faster. “Gonna fill you up and you keep it inside you, okay? I’ll put more in this sweet pussy tonight.”
You hum happily at his words, as you ride him a little faster, “Fill me up, Daddy.”
“Shit.” Dave hisses, tightening his grip as he starts to push his hips up harder. You know how to make him cum. “Fuck, fuck, little girl-“ He groans your name as he thrusts one last time, burying himself deep and painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.
You kiss him gently on the lips before standing up, tucking your panties in his shirt pocket, knowing that he wouldn’t be happy if you left here wearing them.
“Good girl.” Dave tucks his cock away and pats your ass as you straighten your appearance in the mirror that he has hung in a corner. “I’ll pick you up after your last class.” He tells you softly.
*
It’s only after you give him a decidedly promising kiss and slip out of his office does it hit Dave. He’s gotten in too deep.
He’s allowed you to do things that no one else has, including practically living at his house. More often than not, he will pick you up after your classes, telling himself that he doesn’t trust you to eat or take care of yourself. Or that he wants to fuck you. But often it’s when you’re in his bed asleep that he thinks about the first time you had napped there, pulling you into his arms and letting you sleep on his chest.
Dave frowns, analysing his feelings and realises that he hasn’t written for months. The meticulous notes that he used to take have been abandoned for the pure pleasure of spending time with you.
He’s completely changed for you, and the most ironic thing of all is that you don’t even know it.
*
You sit on the island in front of the oven swinging your legs, the timer on the oven still showing over twenty minutes as you kick your legs impatiently.
Dave is sitting at the table marking some essays and you decide it’s best to stop distracting him for a little while.
Your mind drifts to the way he greeted you an hour earlier, you had barely stepped in through the door before he was pulling you in for a kiss. Possessively moulding his lips on top of yours as he pulled you as close to him as he could.
You thought he was going to drag you into his bedroom then and there but he just kissed you a little softer and peppered a fleeting kiss to your forehead before telling you he had a few papers to mark, so you offered to make dinner.
You’re pulled out of your daydream by him asking you to grab some new markers from his work office, a room you’d only been in once.
“Sure, baby,” you say with a grin before jumping down off the countertop.
“Baby,” he repeats with a raised eyebrow and a boyish grin, “Mhmm.”
His office is meticulous, everything perfectly placed and dusted. The smell of leather is both inviting and a little intoxicating. You look for the pack of markers on his desk and don’t see them, so you start looking in his drawers, finding nothing in the first few and in the third finding a small leather bound diary.
You feel a twinge of guilt as your fingertips brush against it, for the most part Dave is so closed off, only giving you small parts of him, on occasion.
The book feels heavy in your hands and you know it’s because you feel guilty, you shouldn’t be doing this, but you just can’t help yourself. You open to the first page and see a girls name you don’t recognise at the top.
Your eyes scan the page in disbelief.
You were a conquest. Just like the girl on this page, and the girl on the next and the one after that.
And then it was your name.
He listed your age and how long it took for him to get you into his bed.
He had underlined the fact your father is a clergyman over and over, like you’d be his biggest challenge.
You feel a painful lump form in your throat as you realise that you never meant a thing to him.
You feel sick, your legs threaten to give out beneath you and the room feels like it’s spinning around you.
The sound of him calling your name from down the hall makes you want to scream or cry or both; you can’t decide. Before you realise it your feet are dragging you down the hall until you’re face to face with him again.
He doesn’t have time to speak before you’re throwing the book down in front of him.
“You got me into bed the quickest,” you shout, “Does that make me the winner or the loser?”
Tears start to stream down your face as he picks up the book you threw down on top of his pile of unmarked essays, “You’re evil,” you spit, “Is this a game to you? Pick the weakest girl and strip her of her innocence! Her virtue! Just for fun?”
Shit. Horror and guilt sink like a stone in Dave’s stomach and the chair scraping back against the floors as he stands up sounds like the scream you want to hurl at him. Dropping the book down on the table like it offended him.
Eyes wide, he holds up his hands. “Sweetheart, let me - let me explain.” He rushes out, unsure of what to say or how? How does he admit that in the beginning you were a conquest but that changed and he didn’t even know it until it happened? That the reason he stopped writing in it was because it had changed. Today in his office, he had come to the conclusion that unlike the others that he had tarnished, he was keeping you. Needing to see where this would go.
The heartbreak on your face makes him feel dirty. Like a true sinner for the first time. His kinks were hurting you, he had hurt you and he hates it, hates himself for it.
He fucking loves you.
It’s a stark realization and Dave nearly retches because he knows he’s fucked up. “Please.”
You take a deep breath and shake your head, “No.” You grab your bag from the counter and head towards the front door, hearing him scramble behind you and yelling your name, but you keep walking.
He tries to reach you before you get to the door but he can't. Tripping over the fucking rug that you had wanted him to buy for the space on a rare weekend out shopping. He should have known then that he was fucked.
Calling out your name again does nothing, the door slamming so hard that a framed landscape falls off the wall. Leaving him to decide if he should chase after you and create a scene in the street or call you.
The cold air feels like a slap to the face as you run down his driveway. Your eyes are stinging from the never ending flow of tears, but you manage to pull out your phone and order an uber to pick you up from down the street.
‘How could he do this?’ you think to yourself, maybe you knew he was never going to love you. He was never ever going to truly care, but you never imagined this. You were a conquest. A game. Something for him to laugh over after he got what he wanted.
Your virginity is preserved like some kind of sick trophy in the walls of the house that you’d grown to love, one that he’d refer to as ‘home’ when telling you to stay the night.
You wipe the tears off your face as you round the corner, seeing an uber matching the description as the one coming for you pulling up.
#dave york#dave york x you#dave york x reader#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#dave york fanfiction#dave york x virgin!reader#dave york au#religious corruption#professor!Dave York#pedro pascal
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Hi there!! So uh, i was wondering (as a baby punk/goth) if you have any suggestions as to how to subtly dress more punk?? I would love to go full out with it, but i couldn’t without getting into an argument, so if you have any tips, let me know :] thank you!!
Ideas for subtly adding alternative elements to outfits:
Safety pins. Add them any and everywhere. I have them on the lapels of almost every jacket I own, and up the back of a pair of converse (possibly being used to keep said pair of converse together). But adding them to bags or as earrings (or hanging from earrings) works just as well!
Band t shirts. You can buy them anywhere and pair them with anything. Simply jeans and a band t shirt are fairly common even for non-alt people
Start adding some black and other dark elements to your outfits. Even if its just a black friendship bracelet. Maybe it has beads on it that spell out a band name?
Learn how to do simple sewing and mending. The more times something is repaired, the cooler it looks in my opinion. AND thats something that is honestly a life skill and everyone should be able to do if they are physically able
Ladder lace your shoes (I have a how to here), its subtle but can tell someone who knows what they are looking for a lot
Ripped jeans are in fashion. Just make your own out of an old pair, it will look more alt and be cheaper. And you can tell your parents that you were just saving money and making ‘cooler jeans than the people who get them pre-ripped’ should work cause a lot of older people seem to have beef with pre-ripped jeans
Go just a *little* heavier on the eye make up (but not so much you get in trouble). And if anyone says anything about it, there are plenty of more mainstream artists you can say you drew inspiration from (Kiss, Mick Jagger, Prince, David Bowie. All musicians that parents are likely to have listened to)
Choose boots, converse, or vans over other options if you have the choice. Other options are fine (and probably cheaper unless you thrift them) but it’s undeniable that those shoes are staples of alt fashion
Simple chain necklace. Get it from a craft store. Its small, its subtle, it can be hidden under your shirt
If you or your family is religious (specifically christian here), get a stylized cross to wear. I have a cool looking metal one made out of nails. You could always claim that it represents something about Jesus’ suffering or something
DIY in general, even if it doesn’t look punk/alt. The fact that it was DIY basically makes it punk/alt
I’m not Goth, nor do I know *much* about Goth fashion, BUT, I think lace is pretty common? And not exclusive to alt spaces, soo you can just say you think its pretty
Any other ideas or tips for anon are welcome of course!!! (Especially on the goth stuff here lol)
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☆MR.PLANT HEADCANONS!!!♡
(TW: Mentions of religion, murder)
*Was diagnosed with ADHD/ Autism at a very young age, but it took a really long while since he had to constantly write stuff in pen instead of talking.
*Has hated pens since he first learned to write because his shaky hands write terribly in pen.
*Despite not being able to talk, he can laugh, scream, and hum. He really likes stimming by laughing because it feels like the one chance he gets to sort of talk. (That felt really sad-)
*Grew up in a Christian household, and even though he isn't religious now, when he's really scared he'll pray just in case. (I'm really sorry if that came off as disrespectful or anything, please let me know if it did I'm not Christian so I wouldn't know that well)
*Has really noticeable eye bags due to his lack of sleep, when he was a teen he used to put some of his mom's makeup on that specific part to cover it up but stopped after he got bullied for it.
*He was definitely a mama's boy and still is, he visits her weekly to take care of her and Emails her often to talk with her.
*Is a workaholic to a dangerous level but can never keep a job as he always murders someone in the end.
*His special interest is knifes, he has a lot for cooking and eating, along with to kill people. He always looks for new ones whenever he can, like a kid in a candy store but he limits himself to only buy 2 at a time. He also looks up facts and articles about them a lot, it feels very comforting to him.
*Speaking of knifes, he cooks really well! Ask him to make anything and he'll be amazing at it to a whole new level. He has at least 2 cabinets filled to the brim with spices and herbs and tea packets. Whenever Argos comes over he likes to bake some new treat he learned how to bake and insist he tries it. (They're usually French or Italian)
*He has a Funk Pop Keychain he got in High School of Deadpool and pirated all the movies with it and read all the comics as a kid. He knows the second one word- for- word and summarizes the movies and stuff when he's bored.
*He has very good hygiene to an impressive level, and he still has one of those hand sanitizer rubber things from a few years back. He has a weird habit of carrying around tooth picks despite not being able to open his mouth.
*He'll grab onto Argos' hand and just start squeezing it out of nowhere. Don't ask why, not even he knows. Not like he could answer anyway.
*He watched Aqua Teen Hunger Force as a kid (if ykyk) and his favorite was always Master Shake because of his voice and risky humor.
*When he uses a computer he always minimalizes tabs, never keeping an unnecessary one open because he gets really frustrated at computer lag. He also plays music on one tab when he wears headphones. And his favorite game to play on it is Yandere Simulator because he likes to make all the characters really upset at his answers. (Took inspo from Ashur Ghravi there)
*He always picks at his fingers when he gets stressed. He tried a picky pad but he hated the noise the beads made and the texture of the silicone so he threw it away along with his other failed attempts at stopping the habit. He gets really insecure when people talk about his hands, he always thought they were too boney and cold for anyone including himself to like them. (He cries when they leave him alone after)
*When talking music his favorite artists are John Leher, Lady Gaga, Michael Jackson, and Lemon Demon. (Don't tell him he has to pick just one.) He really likes music from the 70s - 90s music, old- times music always brings him nostalgia from his parents and grandparents playing it when he was little, it brings back memories to playing around in the summer heat and relaxing at home.
*He enjoys dressing simple a lot because it feels like he doesn't have to worry about dressing himself too much. But he ADORES looking at really stylized outfits, the more complicated the better! He watches Rupaul's Drag Race so he can judge the outfits along with the actual judges (But who doesn't???)
*He's grown really good at slow dancing over the years. But he always waits for someone (Argos) to ask if he wants to dance because he doesn't want to seem like he's showing off. But when I tell you he feels like a brand new person, swaying along with the music, taking in every word and step and tap while he dances, I mean he feels like he could become the next background dancer for Mitski. And he feels so proud of himself for that!
*Hes definitely a salty over sweet kinda guy, with sugar he can only take so much of it before he has to be excused. Yk? Thats why him and Argos always go to the same place, because he feels like when he knows what he can get each time he can prepare himself more for what he will eat. (In other words, safe food) And when I tell you he gets picky about food, I don't mean he only eats a handful of things and refuses anything else. No. I mean he's a.. Selective eater. Like, he loves trying new foods and he's willing to try anything. But for example, let's say that he hates mustard (same) and you give him something with mustard. Now, he will eat it and be nice about it, but that doesn't mean he'll enjoy eating it. Got what I'm tryna say? Okay.
*He loves watching old black & white films to try and decipher their 1900s talk to now. He often has to pause the movie to look up what certain words mean, but usually he knows what they're saying and he just laughs along about it.
(WRITER TALKING) Okay, so, thanks for reading this!!! I really hope you liked it! :0 I adore TWOMP so much its ridiculous, but I obviously have a favorite. Mr.Plant is honestly the most relatable character I've ever seen in my life, everything about him makes me go "HE'S SO ME!!!!!" if I'm honest. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Bye. :3
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This evening I'm catching up with Les Mis Letters so here are some language notes from the last few chapters:
LM 5.5.6 - The Two Old Men Who Do Everything...
1. A fun pun! Marius says: “The men of the revolution are so great, ... and each one of them seems to me an antique memory.” In French the last part of this line is: “... et chacun d’eux semble une mémoire antique.” M. Gillenormand then responds with “Moire antique!” meaning antique moire - a rippled or wavy fabric - and the next day he buys a dress of this fabric for Cosette. If you haven't spotted the joke yet, "antique memory" in French is "mémoire antique" so M. Gillenormand either only heard or only chose to hear the very last part of what Marius was saying and interpreted it as Marius talking about the fabric.
2. In one of M. Gillenormand's long speeches he says “... I am always harping on your people, but do look favorably on my dealing a bit of a slap to the bourgeoisie. I belong to it.” The last sentence is exactly the same wording in French that Grantaire uses in his line "Vive la République! J'en suis." translated in Hapgood as "Long live the Republic! I'm one of them." It's such a common phrase that I don't expect much was meant by it but I found it to be an interesting parallel.
3. “[Aunt Gillenormand] went regularly to service, told her beads, read her euchology, mumbled Aves in one corner of the house, while I love you was being whispered in the other,” This is just kind of interesting- the "I love you" in this sentence is written in English in the original text. I'm not sure why.
LM 5.6.1 - The 16th of February 1833
1. There's a missing sentence in Hapgood's translation after: “Collé, Panard and Piron flow from it, enriched with slang.” The sentence after it is: “On crache de là-haut sur le peuple le catéchisme poissard.” which I would translate as "One spits vulgar catechismes (summary of a religious doctrine) on the people from up there."
2. Very shortly after the previous sentences, there's the line “Uproar reigns in front, tumult behind.” I feel like Hapgood didn't really capture the vibes of the language correctly here because the words used for "uproar" and "tumult" are "Brouhaha" and "Tohubohu" respectively. Brouhaha can be kept as-is in English, and apparently Tohubohu can be translated as hurly-burly although I've not really heard that expression before, but both give a more accurate sense of the onomatopoeic nature of the words being used.
3. I can't comment on all of it right now but there's SO much fun argot being used in the conversation between Thénardier and Azelma- my version of the French text has a ton of its rare footnotes to explain all the slang. One tiny thing that's bothering me about the Hapgood translation is Thénardier ends with “That don’t matter. You must try. You understand me, Azelma.” but the French ends with “Entends-tu, Azelma ?” so it really should be "Do you understand, Azelma? / Do you hear me, Azelma?"
These chapters are a bit longer as we approach the end here! I think I'll have to save the next one for tomorrow, but now I'm only one behind.
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Nicholas who's trying to rejoin the Christian faith yet is still doubtful. It's not like reconnecting with an old friend who you lost contact for years after drifting apart. Rather, it's more akin to trying to become friends with a tumultuous ex after all the dust has settled.
He had gotten rid of all his religious paraphernalia. No longer owning a bible nor a cross, not even the Punisher. Not even a rosary. Nicolas now feels like he has to prove himself—prove that he can be faithful. Vash is the one that convinces him that it's okay to buy it. Especially as it might help him feel closer to his lord and savior.
Instead, he buys a bracelet with chunky glass beads on it. Nothing too fancy as the words of how adornment shouldn't be external played on loop in his head. Ultimately, it gives him peace of mind. Feeling a bit more secure in his choices as he takes it off his wrist, folding it in half. Rubbing his thumb over the beads' texture as it sat in his palm.
Nicholas let silence fill the room, still struggling to find the words for prayer. How he hoped the rumination was taken into consideration. That his trying wasn't for naught. Eventually getting up to join Vash in bed.
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uhhh, so TFGS headcanons????? fuck
(below cut)
Rosa
- when Rosa was younger, like 7-10 yrs old kinda, she didnt know how to say words like 'phenomenon', the 'f' sound of 'ph' confused her so much
- when she first started working at the gas station, she hadn't had any paranormal experiences. She also didn't believe in the Higher Realms
- Rosa never really was friends with Tony, even though they worked alot of day shifts together
- when she was a teenager, she listened to South Park Mexican absolutely RELIGIOUSLY
- she LOVESSSS Kali Uchis
————
Jerry
(strangest guy..,,.,. the man ever)
- Jerry listens to the strangest shit, he managed to find an unreleased album from Frank Sinatra??
- absolute glow-in-the-dark fanatic. Shoelaces, shirts, jewelery, literally ANYTHING
- makes references to the most obscure shit ever. From commercials to newspapers, it's insane
- funko pop collector. To the point that he forgets which he has, and he accidentally buys the same ones
- he LOVES the hunger games, he has the books and blu-ray discs and everything
- sneezes SO. FUCKING. LOUD. that shit could wake the dead and enlighten the deaf
————
Jack
- he has so many books he has to put them shits in those huge ass plastic boxes, you know the ones??
- with all the shit he's seen at the gas station, he really does NOT care if someone dies and it shows up on the news
- Jerry keeps giving him beads and rocks. He doesn't know what to do with them so he puts them into the glove department in his car
- sometimes Jack gets so detached from reality that seeing viscerally bright and neon colors is a relief for him
- he's double jointed!! He doesn't use this weird fucking thing often because it's kinda useless but still
————
Tony/Carlos
(so delusional about this fucker what)
- he was in track for a little while in middle school, runs so fast it's fucking scary
- catholic, but Tony is SURE he's going to hell
- knows how to use a crossbow very, VERY well!! No particular reason for this but crossbows are a really fucking hot weapon
- fucking converse shoe wearer I swear
- mostly writes in pen, because pencils don't really look that nice with the way he writes
- definitely gatekeeps where he buys his clothes (thrift stores)
- Tony doesn't really like wearing normal T-shirts, the sleeves have to end just above the elbow for him to be comfortable while wearing it.
- prefers savory to sweet, but he does occasionally like something sugary.
#tales from the gas station#jerry pascal#jack townsend#rosa vasquez#antonio vargas#17locust#🦧#tftgs antonio#tftgs tony#tftgs jack#tftgs jerry
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Qåmtsu Blouse Pins
A unique element of the Qåmtsu costume, among other Hebitian costumes, is the general insistence upon a blouse. This, in its simplest form, is 3 rectangles of fabric sewn together, with the front left open and two gaps in the side seams for the arms. Generally a small amount of fabric is used to make a "collar" of excess fabric around the neck and over the chest (similar to the construction of an 18th century bedgown or manteau de lit). The more wealth, the bigger the collar, until the collar resembled more of a shawl, covering the wearers shoulders and even upper arms. Some also added wide sleeves with pleats to further show off the amount of material they could afford.
While these blouses could be worn open, they were most commonly worn with a set of 2-4 pins. The varieties with large collars necessitated such pins, in fact. These caught the excess fabric so it formed a gathered stripe, and closed the front. A man's pins started at or just below his chula, while a woman's started below the pectoral muscles.
The pins themselves were most commonly a ring of metal, wood, glass, or stone, with a corresponding piece of wire, which had a ball affixed permanently to one end, and another which screwed on and off on the other. These balls sometimes had pendants and chains attached.
Variants, however, exist; a pennanular pin indicated someone from the north of Qåmtsu territory, nearer to the Helta Highlands. These were usually larger, about half the size of one's palm. A heart shaped ring was common in the south of the delta. A triangle was popular near the westmost portion of river territory. The gem encrusted style was from the southeast, edging close to the mountains. Those with dozens of shell pendants came from the coastal portion of the delta. The style one adopted flucated before the Union, not necessarily preserving the style one grew up with. After the Union, however, one tended to be inheriting pins instead of buying them, and trying to keep those multigenerational connections became more important. However, simple pins made of bits of spare wire and cheap beads were and remain popular.
The branch of the Garak family Elim Garak belongs to retains no such pins, not even in secret. However, a close branch (Mila and Tolan's cousins) have a few: these are a combination of delta styles, with heart shaped rings and two good sized pendants made of mother of pearl attached to each end of the pin. The pendants are carved with small images of Hebitian religious figures, and hang on beaded chains with imitation coral and amber, indicating a middle class past.
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Oh look, Kwarrel Lives fic! Set during that ‘wandering the galaxy’ period, Kwarrel still wouldn’t admit that he’s a dad, but he’s a dad.
~~
For the first time in too long he had access to proper embroidery supplies. Nothing fancy, no beads, nothing large enough to feel comfortable in his hands, but better than the makeshift-at-best crap he’d been working with the past damn-near-thirty years. Actual needles. Proper thread. Hoops. There had been multiple times the past few decades he’d have given a foot for a proper embroidery hoop. Both of them if he could’ve had all of this. It wasn’t quite on the level of seeing a proper sky again, but it was close.
Of course, for most of that time his focus would have been on adorning himself, on bedecking himself as was right for any Perison. Why shouldn’t he? Even the barest of hem patterns was a necessity of proper dress among his people, and even someone who had done the horrible things he had, even someone who hadn’t worked to put those feelings and actions in their past, wouldn’t be denied them. Walking around in the plain, makeshift work that had been what he all could manage in Incarsecon had been humiliating, and long had he yearned to be able to do things properly again.
But, Kevin came first.
The new clothes he’d grabbed him were far from the best, but they were what he could afford off the work he could get and he was trying to keep under the radar, set a good example. Even if Kevin already knew crime well, and sometimes went behind his back to try to help. The clothes were too big too, but while wasn’t shooting up like river cane as much as a man would hope now that they had enough food semi-regularly- more importantly food he could eat semi-regularly- he was consistently growing. Things would fit right eventually, and they would look good and proper the whole time, he promised every deity he could name, his own and otherwise.
To think, for the forty years or so he’d been an adult he hadn’t given two shits about kids aside from having at least one moral. Turns out that was all the opening fate needed to go ‘you’re somebody, watch this child’ and for you to get attached.
So instead of getting himself even cheap beads, better thread, supplies that fit, he was buying new clothes, shoes, glasses. Spending his evenings drawing designs onto shirts, skirts, and pants. Simple things, geometric shapes, sparks, lightning, snowflakes and stars. About the calmest evening of his life so far had been the two of them ‘arguing’ over how you drew snowflakes and stars… Kevin wanted simple, subtle, and while Kwarrel burned to deck them both out in the brightest colors and boldest patterns to that he would stay. He spent his breaks stitching- it wasn’t as if he wasted money on his own lunch anyway- working primarily in shades of grey and blue, things that would pop gently against the dark colors he preferred. Sometimes he slipped in flowers, once a line from a poem he’d remembered from his youth, and always religious symbols.
Kevin’d shown him once the symbol his own people used, drawn it in dirt in the Void in the days following a meltdown, after it had sunk in how far he was from home. Kwarrel’d taken great care to memorize it, it wasn’t a difficult shape, with the intent to recreate it in thread when he could. He knew well how hard it could be to be the only one of your kind around, to grasp tight to connections to your past and your culture in the midst of the endless variety and change of the greater galaxy. And so he was careful to find a spot for it in every item he embroidered for him. He was also- though it may have been rude, he didn’t know- careful to find another spot to put one of the many protective symbols he’d been taught in his youth. It’d taken what felt like ages to remember it right- he’d never drawn it out himself though one of the old men had stitched it for him before he left Ha’n- but with the Void, and space, the long hours he worked, and all the things going on in Kevin’s head and his heart, he wouldn’t have been able to live himself if he didn’t try to get every bit of protection from the monsters in the dark for him.
He'd never been a religious man, but after that first time somebody’d snatched Kevin up he’d decided he was covering all his bases. That kid needed as much protection as he could get short of being locked up again. Yes, he had his own god to look out for him, but Kwarrel had many he could, hopefully, call in for back-up.
Certainly, the First Father had to be appreciating all the prayers for help actually raising this kid he was getting, if nothing else.
Kwarrel bought new-enough clothes, he embroidered away, skipped his meals, prayed his heart out for this kid who damn near everyone, nearly including him, seemed to have passed over in the crowd, and who now mattered more than just about anything.
His own needs and desires could wait.
#fanfic#kwarrel: i'm not entirely sure the gods exist to be honest with you#kevin: *exists as a black hole for trauma*#kwarrel: ......hey i know it's been nearly fifty years since i've called but-
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🚪 and 🕸️?
🚪A fic you love that’s set in Rue Royale
someone buy me roses by indigostohelit - the very first iwtv fic i bookmarked, and still one of my favorites. many lines i could quote but the author's note really says it best:
Started as "fun with religious sex hang-ups", turned into "handjobs later cited in court proceedings as evidence of irreconcilable differences", bon appetit.
🕸️ A fic you love that’s set in Dubai
drawing in a subject by nestorious - this is a follow-up to another favorite of mine also set in dubai, both of them concerning the Rashid of it all. some absolutely fantastic lines in here, but this one really struck me this time around:
“You’re not persuasive,” Daniel said, watching the beads form. “You’re not good at scolding yourself, are you, Armand? You have to outsource it to other people. Like you’re doing to poor starved Louis.”
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alrightie, alrightie, here I come with my ship request:
can I please get a romantic ship for myself, pretty please? thank you!
I go by she/her and I am bisexual
for fandoms I am fine with either HOTD or GOT, whoever you think will fit better.
I am average height and with an average body (and a feature on myself that I don't really like are my hips dips). I wear glasses (as I tend to see all the world blurred without them) and I do look every inch the Clark Kent aesthetic of the good-hearted nerd. I have brown eyes and I dyed my hair to be a more orange-y brown (does that make sense? but it's a middle way between straight up red hair and brown). I also tan a lot in the summer (except my face, since I am always holding a book over it, whenever I got to he beach).
when I am not writing, cursing Tumblr or having exam, I enjoy reading, watching TV series and crafting beads necklaces and bracelets since I can't stay still unless I am doing something with my hands; I enjoy putting on makeup and find it quite relaxing and for the sake of my own health I need to start every morning with my four steps skincare routine.
I'd describe myself as the anxious girlie that has this scary aura but really hasn't tried to communicate with anybody because she is scared of making a fool of herself. I am a perfectionist with a pendant for rules and routines, although I can be quite clumsy and totally forgetful as I am always stuck into my own reality. I enjoy creating, whether it is in writing, crafting or using my bullet journal. I am an INFP and a scorpio sun, pisces moon and libra rising (and I live by that religiously)
I enjoy: the color purple, being on time, academic validation, new books, old vintage stores in the open air and nice overpriced cafes (although I shouldn't drink it because 1) I don't like the taste, 2) it's bad for the anxiety), and one day I'll just make good on my promise to either buy a bookstore and sell books while I appear as the mysterious and edgy shop clerk or disappear in the woods to write my own novels and support myself economically.
I dislike: pushy people, late people, and I can tell from a mile whether somebody is fake or not; I also don't forgive and forget easily, although I am extremely non-confrontational (to the point of discomfort). I dislike also ignorance and arrogance (although I think that to be confident is a good thing, putting others off for the sake of making yourself better is a red flag to me).
aesthetically my friends would describe me as either the pastel Taylor Swift girl or the light academia overworked student.
fun facts about me:
everybody finds it strange that I am a girly girl who likes also sports (such as Motorsport and F1), but I enjoy watching sports either alone or with my family and it's a bonding thing among me and my sister.
I had and still have an obsession with anything mythological and it influenced greatly the career path that I took (not me on Saturday wandering in the children's section of a bookstore and considering buying this whole cute book about myths across the world) (the only reason why I didn't was because I didn't know where to put it).
I was born on the 31st of October and I am still convinced that one day I'll pull a YA main character move and reveal secret magical powers (I am joking, I am joking but being a telepath sounds cool, although my only superpower right now is overthinking everything)
alright, so I think that this is enough and I can't wait to see ho I get!
thank you again for this chance and have a lovely day!
-𝒜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝒾
i see you as a sheltered highborn lady (in a good way!) you have an ability, let’s call it, you’re all too aware of the bad in people. you can see the scales being tipped on one direction or the other. it might make you a tad pessimistic at times. it’s exhausting for sure. but your houses keep has a library with all the books you could want, all the spare time and all the material for your crafts. you’re spotted from afar. from your auburn hair to the way you observe people has a certain someone thinking you’re too special to stay hidden away here. you’re stolen;
♡ i ship you with…! ♡
♡ Tormund Giantsbane ♡
• At first you’re only a good contribution to the Freefolk. That is to say literate, Tormund brings you scrolls to read before deciding if it’s worth passing them forward to Mance
• He was right to think you were special, you’re a mediator and gods know they need one from time to time. From orphaned children, full grown adults to even taller giants your presence alone starts to cease arguments
• He’s also the one to pick up on your ability, deciding whether or not they’re trustworthy on the spot, searching them for darkened auras and such. A handful of these newcomers that you’ve dismissed (re: put very little effort into getting to know), ended up being killed for one treason or the other
• Tormund’s the first to notice how weary you become afterwards and how it worsens upon meeting new faces. He may not know why, at the beginning, but he knows that you look tired and require extra energy and that means warmer blankets, less time around people, more food, MANY attempts to slip you giantsmilk. He’s very concerned, he just wants you healthy
• And happy. This man absolutely loves making you laugh! His stories aren’t particularly funny but the way he describes things and talks force you into a fit of giggles. The sound has him grinning for the rest of the day
• It doesn’t take long for Tormund to decide he likes you. He wants to steal you as his this time. He appreciates you communicate like a wildling even if you don’t see it as such. The ginger doesn’t mind standing up for you when you can’t— he really likes taking care of you but has this respect that you don’t need him to do any of it
• Tormund is whipped though, you can ask him just about anything and consider it done before the request completely leaves your mouth (The exception being he won’t do anything that would jeopardize Mance’s cause)
• For example Tormund, at your request, pitched up a tent. You have big plans for this area apparently. The Freefolk can come and borrow or swap books, you plan on offering to teach them to read— you went on and on about this… library. He may not understand why it’s important to you but he doesn’t really need to know more than that. “You want this? You’ll have it.”
• Tormund may not be able to give you that noble life you’ve been accustomed to but he desperately tries to keep you happy. He’ll fight to get you a sliver of normalcy on the other side of that fucking wall
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Jewelry-Tober Days #3 and #4
Looking for religious-goth imagery? Searching for pumpkin spice fun? Can't decide? Here are the necklaces I created for day 3 and day 4 of my new jewelry challenge that reflect both sides of Autumn!
Btw, you can use code "TUMBLR" for a discount!
Day 3: Elegant Romantic Goth Necklace
During colder months, I love it when people find creative ways to wear black clothing. I imagine this cross necklace and earring set to pair perfectly with a rather simple black and/or red outfit. This jewelry piece features a cross with hand-beaded seed beads. However, don't think the fun ends there! The Cross necklace comes with a pair of matching red and black earrings. Super elegant yet simple and gothic <3
Day 4: Autumnal Nights
The season is changing and I am longing for golden light pouring into a cold room, seeing all of the stars in the Midnight sky, sipping a hot steaming cup of coffee, and stepping on cronchy caramel-colored leaves. This jewelry piece reflects the spirit of autumn by including golden yellow moons, warm brown maple leaves, deep brown and copper-colored freshwater pearls, and vintage glass beads.
♥ Does not come with a pair of earrings, however, I recommend matching it with the "Fawn" Earrings from my Tinkerbell Collection! It features brown maple leaves, copper-colored pearls, and bronze metal leaves. Earring Dimensions: 2 Inches (Drop Length 2.5 inches). 1 strand.
(However, if you have sensitive earrings do not buy these earrings as the hoops may cause sensitivity. If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to switch out the hoops for 925 silver hypoallergenic hooks if that is a worry of yours. <3)
pssstttt, use code "TUMBLR" for a discount!
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Helping Guide for Trendy Rakhis for Raksha Bandhan 2023
Introduction
Raksha Bandhan is a traditional Hindu festival that falls on the full moon day in the Shravan month. In your diary, you can mark August 30, 2023, to celebrate it with your family. The festive occasion is also famed as Rakhri, Avani Avittam, and Janai Purnima and commemorates the beautiful and unique bond between brothers and sisters.
Every year when unmarried and married sisters tie a Rakhi on their brother’s wrists, they put their faith in them. The sacred Rakhi thread has a deep cultural significance. It strengthens the relationship between the two. The brother is her constant support, and she feels completely protective when he is around. Moreover, the brother also promises to protect her always. He continues wearing this Rakhi thread of love and protection for many days, which shows that sisters are unique and genuinely valued.
Before the festive occasion ends and you may get busy enough to indulge in last-minute Rakhi shopping, here are our recommendations for the trendiest Rakhis online for Raksha Bandhan 2023 with the best gift combos. Investing in these online Rakhi gift ideas will be beneficial whether your brother stays with you or in a different city or country. Select a Rakhi that will look adorable on your brother's wrist with a suitable combo to make the Rakhi celebration an event to remember.
Owing to technological advancement and the round-the-clock availability of the internet, you can buy Rakhi and Rakhi gifts online from the comfort of your room. Within a few clicks, your order will reach the desired doorstep. However, ordering Rakhi for your brother from a trustworthy online Rakhi shopping platform is a must for a hassle-free experience.
Bracelet Rakhi:
It is made of threads, beads, stones, pearls, and metals, like gold or silver. These Rakhis are a modern take on the traditional Rakhi and are worth buying for fashionable brothers. These Rakhis are in demand as they are a combo of Rakhi & Bracelet.
You can order bracelet Rakhi with sweets & assorted chocolates. They are delightful indulgences for your siblings, giving cherished memories.
Golden Rakhi:
Many online platforms have a wide range of golden Rakhis to grab your eyeballs. It is made of gold or gold-plated materials to give it a rich and luxurious appearance. Skilled artisans enhance their appeal by creating beautiful designs, patterns, and motifs. Moreover, gold is associated with purity and prosperity, so golden Rakhi for your brother will enhance his fortune and strengthen your bond.
Create a festive package combining golden Rakhi with a decorated Puja Thali. It will provide a ceremonial and religious touch to his Rakhi celebration.
Personalized Rakhi:
Raksha Bandhan celebrates & honors siblings’ love. This Raksha Bandhan, you can order a Rakhi online with a small photo of you and your brother, his name or initials, or a message reflecting your heartfelt love and good wishes for him.
A Personalized Rakhi with a customized gift, such as a keychain, mug, or cushion, will be treasured for years.
Cartoon-Character Rakhi:
Raksha Bandhan allows you to strengthen your bond with your siblings. So, if you have a kid brother, dedicate this Rakhi festival to him. Order a cartoon-printed Rakhi online, such as Peppa Pig Rakhi, Mickey Mouse Rakhi, Minions, etc. It will add an element of fun and excitement to his Rakhi celebration.
The top-notch Rakhi gift ideas for kids include Rakhi with chocolates and sweets, T-shirts, colored pencils, puzzle books, crayons, etc., to help make a special place in their hearts.
Conclusion: Brothers are special. So, you can't settle for the ordinary when selecting a Rakhi online. You can also check the latest Rakhi collection with gifts available at Rakhi Bazaar https://www.rakhibazaar.com/. The company offers an express Rakhi delivery service that allows you to send Rakhi to the UK from India and worldwide. You can also send Rakhi to India from the UK, the USA, etc., free of shipping costs.
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