Sins of the Flesh (priest!Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: priest!Dave York x f!reader

Summary:  His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed. “Lord, have mercy on me.”

Word count: +10.9k

Warnings: religion! catholic religion to be precise, a lot A LOT of religious references and undertones (shot every time you find one lmao), age gap (around 15 years, reader is legal), smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex, breaking of celibacy vows!, catholic guilt, me making divine metaphors… i think thats it.

A/N: first of all this is all @asta-lily​’s fault, she asked why no one had turned this man into a priest and i said “ok ill do it” so i did it, she is to blame. also i wanna say thanks to the pocket wives that encouraged this creation, sorry my loves, this isnt as slutty as yall thought lmao, and thanks to @alliterative-albatross​ who gave me all the bible verses that shaped this story as well. and i wanna thank the creator of this playlist that i listened over and over while writing this, and yeah, sorry for this monstrosity, love you <3

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by @asta-lily

“So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.”–James 4:12.

Sunday 1.

Like a piece in a puzzle.

That’s how you fit in.

There, sitting in the middle of a ten people polished wood bench, eyes on the four feet tall crucified Jesus on the wall above the altar, ready for the first sermon you were to hear after coming back home.

Home. That was the name.

That church felt like home.

You were enjoying sitting there, among the children you met a couple of hours earlier when you were introduced to them as their new catechesis teacher, breathing in and out the myrrh incense burning and invading the navel and your lungs, filling them with new energy, getting them ready to feel the love that you were sure was about to pour over you.

You heard your name behind you and you turned around to see Mrs. Stevens, one of your mother’s friends waving at you from two rows behind.

“Hi, honey!” she smiled at you and immediately you reciprocated “I heard you were in town, are you staying this time?”

You drowned a chuckle inside your chest and bit your lip, nodding. Just realizing you even had missed the venomous messages hidden behind the kind words mouthed by old catholic moms.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens, I’m staying this time.” you replied, the woman lifted her hand a bit to the sky and you smirked to her.

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fic trailer: hot summer nights

Rating: E (Explicit) - for story

Length: 2:51

Hot Summer Nights by @danniburgh

Summary: It’s hot, both Dave, Georgia’s dad’s dark, tall bodyguard and the weather. Dave was always there, in her house and in her mind, as if it was his job to guard her thoughts instead of her dad’s well being.

Happy birthday, @danniburgh! 😘💕🥳 Hope you enjoy my little adaptation of your fic — starring Dave and Georgia exploring their dark sides. 😈 Lots of love, bby!!

kevva help me (Ezra/adult!Cee)

Rating: E (Explicit)

Length: 4.2k

Summary: Nothing about Cee’s life has been normal, so why would falling in love be any different? The dark, twisted scoundrel who killed her father is an unlikely choice, but he’s also inescapable.

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST, age gap - but Cee is NOT a minor for any sexual encounter, PIV sex, creampie, oral (f & m receiving), fingering (f receiving), cum play, cum eating, allusions to rough sexual activity. Please let me know if I missed something important.

A/N: Dead Dove, y’all. This might toe the line of decency a little bit, you have been warned. If the idea of this pairing upsets you, please ignore — this is NOT a reader insert nor is it canon for the film. I have never written an Ezra fic before, so please be gentle. 😅 Thanks and much love to my darling @ezrasbirdie for the beta and supporting this attempt at something other than a reader insert fic.

They will find something to take from you.

Ezra’s words echo in Cee’s mind long after their return to the Pug, long after they get back to Central. Without being asked, she waits at the hospital for the doctors to patch him up as well as they can.

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series summary: Ariana Hemlock is no ordinary woman. Blessed with a Gift she shouldn’t have, she’s called back to the town of Black Hallows after she inherits her Great Aunt Rosa’s house. Peculiar phenomena plague her new home, and she meets a strange man with the face of a someone she’s seen before. Is he to blame for her troubles, and if he is—why? And why can’t she seem to stop thinking about him?

pairing: Fae King!Ezra x Ariana Hemlock [OFC]

rating: M [warnings: non-descriptive childbirth and breastfeeding]

word count: ~2.2k

note: Okayyyy, here it is. Well, the prologue. I’m throwing this out into the world and accepting whatever comes with it. You can still find the original on Ao3, and if you search my blog it’s still around, but I went ahead and took it off the masterlist. So let me just give a big thanks to everyone who’s held my hand over this, but especially to @danniburgh​, @mothandpidgeon​, @starlightmornings​, and @unhinged-summer-fun​ for looking it over and listening to me dump ideas non-stop. Also to my husband, who has not known peace from the name Ezra for the last month and a half. Anyway please enjoy whatever this turns out to be.

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There are places on Earth where the mossy ground is old and soft and soaked with ancient magic. Places so sacred and tired that even the toughest of crones refuse to speak their names for fear of disturbing the slumber of something primeval. Forests with trees so crowded that moonlight does not penetrate the canopy. Seas with waters dark and still as death, no matter the weather or season.

Places where power lives and breathes. 

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Stolen for the Devil (The Thief)

Pairing: The Thief x The Devil

Summary: “That’s how you’ll remember,” His voice appeared inside his head, The Thief felt his muscles tighten in fright and turned around, the bathroom was empty, he was sure there was no one but him in the room, “you’ll remember who you belong to.”

“I belong to no one.” The Thief replied by sole instinct, and the mark in his arm stung so hard he hissed in pain.

“You became mine the moment you tried to steal from me.”

Word count: +3.5k

Warnings: this is some gay shit, so if you dont like it-scroll past it. Smut! spit as lube, mild painplay, some weird wordplay, soul selling is a warning?

A/N: yHRBEWHJBFJH IM NOT SORRY!!!! let the thief be fucked by the devil why do we care. Also maybe this is like a prequel to the fucking commercial? idk dude dont worry about it. ALSO ALSO, sorry, i tried to make the his/His thing work, sorry if its confusing.

Masterlist // AO3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

drawing by @luckyspenguin

Two hands pressed against a wall that sounded hollow enough for him to try, The Thief smirked as the wall gave in and a secret door opened in front of him. A soft, white cold light turned on as soon as he stepped into the small space and he wanted to laugh out loud at his luck.

“No haría eso si fuese tu.” (I wouldn’t do that if I were you) he heard behind him; a voice so deep and low he could’ve sworn it was meant only for him. The drag of the voice made the small hairs of his nape rise and the fact that it was in spanish, a language no one knew was his native one, made his stomach sink with something darker than fear.

“Pero no eres yo.” (but you’re not me) The Thief replied, feeling the presence of whoever or whatever it was behind him getting closer and closer, towering over him.

“¿Qué buscas?” (what are you looking for?) he asked, making a shiver roam up and down through The Thief’s spine because of the deepness of his voice.

“La daga.” (the dagger) he replied, feeling the warmth of the body behind him, creeping inside of him, mixing with his own. The Thief closed his eyes when he felt a hand holding his arm and wrapping it almost entirely, it wasn’t strong, but he knew it was a hold of warning, it stung him. He sighed and the sudden smell of flowers and burnt matches inundated his nostrils. And that was the moment he knew. He was fucked.

“Vete,” the voice said into his ear, The Thief opened his eyes in surprise, dark pupils dilating fast as his sight focused on the wooden box at the end of the small secret room he had been so eager to find and open to gain yet another treasure, “leave and don’t return unless I want you to.” the guttural rumble that reverberated through his entire body made him choke on his own words and he couldn’t ask Him why he was being set free.

The Thief nodded slowly as the hand that held him in place released him and he breathed in deeply as the small secret door closed in front of him and the imposing presence that had made him give up on one of the items he had been wanting for so many years disappeared from behind him.

Discouraged, he turned around, strolling back from where he had entered into the old church and took off the leather gloves that he had been wearing, pushing them into the pocket of his trousers. The Thief sighed, mumbling at himself about how close he had been to it and how much he still wanted that dagger.

“I know your name, Thief,” he heard inside his head in that deep, rumbly voice that made his blood drop to his feet. “do not test me.”

“Yes, sir.” The Thief replied in a whisper as he walked out of the church.

___

The hotel room was big, but it was empty and cold; he didn’t expect that job to leave him so unsatisfied and he felt like there was nothing else he could concentrate on unless he had that dagger in his possession; he knew it was impossible, but for him impossible meant challenge, so he took off his jacket, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned the first three clasps of his shirt, reaching for his laptop to work up another plan, something good enough to deceive that who kept him from taking what he wanted.

As he sat on the desk in the middle of the room, a warm current made the curtains dance in front of him and his arm began to weigh; he felt his skin hot and his body feverish and there was something inside his body that made him feel like hot lava ran through his flesh.

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sworn to protect (Pero Tovar/f!reader)

Rating: E (Explicit)

Length: 7.7k

Summary: You are the headstrong daughter of an Italian wine merchant, and your father’s frequent trips into the city lead him to hire a bodyguard to keep you safe back home on the estate where you live. Enter Pero Tovar: a grumpy Spanish warrior who’s seen it all in his travels. He’s fought in the Crusades and battled monsters in the Far East, but he’s never met anyone quite like you. You frustrate and amaze him in turns, and you find yourself warming up to your bristly protector. Warmth turns to desire, which you both try to resist — until a shocking confession and a moment of peril changes everything.

Warnings: SMUT, PIV sex, oral (f & m receiving), religious guilt/turmoil, virgin!reader, age gap (but everyone is of age), angst, enemies (ish) to lovers, references to pregnancy, some period-typical views on sex/purity, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Co-written with my beloved @ezrasbirdie. This is just an indulgent bodyguard!Pero AU with lots of historical liberties taken. Bonus Pride & Prejudice reference for those of us with the 2005 movie burned into our memory.

“Papa, I don’t need a bodyguard,” you protested, kicking a small stone across the grass. You stood across from your father, arms folded in, perhaps, childish defiance as he loaded the last of his casks onto a large cart.

“With your mama away as well, angioletto, I will not sleep soundly on my journey unless I know you are protected,” he replied, wiping his hands off on his tunic. “You would deny your dear old father this comfort?”

You sighed in frustration. It had only been a year or so since your family procured the vineyard, and getting the aristocrats in the city to buy your father’s wine had been a challenge. His trips to the city had increased, and some happened to coincide with your mother’s trips to court.

“Why can’t I just go with you, papa?” You asked, still closer to throwing a tantrum than was appropriate for a girl of your age and station.

“Someone needs to run things here, angioletto,” he said, setting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing.

You were well aware of the dangers here; the land was near the last road out of the city, a frequent refuge for those running from the law. More than once, bandits had camped at the edge of the property, and you could see their fires burning, twinkling in the night from your bedroom window. The sight sent a chill through your body and made you blow out your own candle for fear of being seen.

But you didn’t want your father to know that you were afraid; not after all your parents sacrificed to make this possible.

“Very well, papa,” you said, tapping your foot. “Just who is this man you’ve hired to protect me?”

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Originally posted by lordsmaxwell

summary: Marcus Moreno saves you from a lousy date.

rating: E [warnings: SMUT, fluff, slight angst, themes of spousal loss, art history talk, there’s only one bed, oral f receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia-adjacent-ish]

pairing: Marcus Moreno x fem reader

word count: ~5.2k

note: Hello friends! I’m trying out a new man. This is unbetaed, all missing words are my own fault, and I’m yeeting into the universe. I might do a second part if there’s interest because I have ideas, but no promises. The painting mentioned in the fic is Il Bacio by Francesco Hayez, and there are some themes here. Props to @unhinged-summer-fun​ for tossing that my way, because she’s an angel. Anyway hope u like bye.

masterlist

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You like Missy. 

Of all the kids in your after school art class, she is by far your favorite. Unofficially, of course. You’re not supposed to have favorites. Talkative, kind, and fearless, she started out with no artistic ability at all. That didn’t stop her from using the boldest colors on the largest canvas. You’d have killed for that kind of confidence at that age. 

She’s been taking your classes for five months, and you hope she never stops. Mostly because you think she has potential, but partly—shamefully—the handsome man who picks her up after class is a literal superhero. You smile at him shyly when he thanks you for your time. Marcus Moreno, leader of the Heroics, thanks you for your time. It always makes your cheeks warm with pleasure. 

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series summary: You’re an NYT bestselling author with a consulting gig on a movie adaptation of your most recent book series. In a truly unbelievable Christmas rom-com-style turn of events, production begins just after Thanksgiving, leaving you on set through the holidays with the lead actor you’ve had a huge crush on for years, Marcus Pike. He’s the sweetest guy in the business—so why does it feel like he’s avoiding you?
chapter summary: Marcus tries to set the record straight, but will you hear him out?
rating: E [warnings: SMUT, ANGST, ACTUAL COMMUNICATION BETWEEN TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE; oral [m and f receiving], PIV, face sitting, cock warming, pregnancy mentions]
pairing: actor!Marcus Pike x writer!plus size!fem reader
word count: ~7.5k
note: I’m not how sure I am about this final part. It’s much softer than my usual fair, but it’s the holidays, and it’s Marcus Pike. So. If it sucks, I apologize. Thank you to @starlightmornings​, always, for the beta. And thank you to everyone who read this—I know it’s technically already a story that’s been told, but reworking it has been such an amazing challenge, and I’ve had so much reading everyone’s thoughts. 

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You really wanted to regret calling so many times. Leaving more than one voicemail and sounding absolutely nuts. Texting him when he’d taken too long to call back. It was early in the relationship to show all your neuroses.

But he was supposed to call back. He was supposed to tell you when he got to his place. You thought he’d call back. Text back. Anything.

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