#Carol York x reader
Text
Couch for Four
Dave York x Carol York x female reader x Quinn McKenna
Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: General audiences, but this blog is always 18+!
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: MMFF poly fam established in the fic Table for Four . Just a lil bit of fluff about PMS/PMDD. Talk of menstruation and some folks day dreaming about possible future pregnancy. Just a whole lot of fluff and Super Care Taker Dave.
Summary: When your PMS kicks in early and angry, Dave steps up to make sure you’re taken care of and comfortable. Which includes making sure Carol and Quinn are in on the plan.
Notes: I’ve been dealing with horrible PMDD for an entire two weeks now and Keri is an angel who helps me daydream about being taken care of when I feel bad. That’s all, that’s what is here. Pure self-indulgence.
It started last night, which was inconvenient but not the end of the world. Quinn was out with Carol last night and Dave was having Daddy-daughter night with his kids, so you had curled up on the couch and eaten a parsed together dinner of sad, small amounts of various leftovers, a half a Taco Bell quesadilla, a bowl of that amazing soup from the bistro down the block, and the rest of that bag of kettle corn from the vendor at the farmer’s market. It was by no means gourmet, but there was no one there to witness it so you just popped on Dirty Dancing Havana Nights for the eightieth time because you don’t care if the sequel isn’t as good, you just like to watch Diego Luna dance. Last night was not a problem. It’s this morning that’s the problem.
No amount of coffee in the world can bring you back to human when PMS wallops you out of nowhere like this, so your makeup feels painted on and your clothes feel too tight in awkward places. The breakfast sandwich that you ate on the drive to the office has somehow only made you more hungry and that has you unconsciously pouting at your desk in between phone calls and managing Dave’s many responsibilities.
You’re not getting as much done as you’d like to when you’re denying yourself the bottle of that new Sprite Lymonade – which you’ve become obsessed with – that you have stashed in the break room fridge with your name on it. You’re going to eat the goddamn salad you packed for lunch and not order a crab cake BLT and curly fries from the sandwich shop across the street for lunch. You’re going to get through work and be fine. You’re going to be normal. And only after accomplishing that will you allow yourself to go home and cry over more rom-coms and isolate yourself from your partners for a few days so they don’t worry about you.
When Dave walks into the office, he immediately knows that something is off-kilter with you. Instead of the bright, beautiful smile that signifies that you are excited to see him, your face is slightly sagging. Indicating that you aren't feeling the best and the wane, almost watery smile a dim ghost of your normal greeting. The double shot latte in his hand had been for him, but he sets it down beside your computer and smiles. "Good morning, sweetheart." He murmurs softly, figuring you might be battling with a headache or maybe even those head colds that seem to be running rampant around the office.
“Good morning.” In an effort not to have him worrying, you refocus on your computer like you’re already busy at work. “There is one phone message on your desk and you have a team meeting at 10. Any special instructions this morning?”
He frowns slightly, normally the first five or ten minutes of his day with you is spent chatting about more than instructions or messages. Something’s off with you and he wonders if you are upset that Quinn and Carol went out last night. “Nothing at all sweetheart, I know you have my schedule set for me.”
“Of course.” The electronic calendar containing his business obligations is meticulously micromanaged regardless of how crappy you yourself might feel.
“Are you alright?” He frowns slightly, shuffling closer as you pretend to be engrossed in the screen. “You aren’t upset I was with the girls last night, are you?”
“What?” It breaks your heart a little that he would even think that and you shake your head immediately. There aren’t many people in the office yet so you can reach for his hand and give a quick squeeze without fear of being spotted. “No. I’m just not feeling one hundred percent myself today. I’m fine, I promise.” That’s putting it mildly, unfortunately, but you’re a grown ass woman. It’s not like this is your first time with PMS.
“Okay.” Dave believes you, knowing that you aren’t one to lie to him. “If you need to go home, you know you can.” He doesn’t want you here if you need to be resting.
“I know.” He would never make you work if you needed to be home, probably much more lenient with you than he needs to be because he does care about you. But by the same token, caring about him is part of why you work so hard. “It’s…” There’s no use hiding anything from him. Dave York is not a man that anyone can keep secrets from. “It’s just…the usual.”
Frowning for a moment, his eyes drop down to the calendar and then he understands. “Oh.” He murmurs softly. “Okay. I understand.”
“Nothing to worry about,” you promise him. Even if it’s hitting early and hard this month, it’s still just the same old stuff that you’ve been dealing with since middle school.
He knows that’s not exactly true. Your periods seem to hit you more severely than Carol. She had explained it to him once, and Dave had been appalled that you had to go through that every month. So of course he would worry.
The fact that you have to leave your desk twice before his meeting to ride out a crying spell in the bathroom isn’t ideal, but hopefully he didn’t notice. The coffee he left you also seems to have heightened your anxiety, which only makes things harder, but it can all be managed. You worked at the fucking White House. You can handle anything. At least, that’s what you remind yourself when you’re staring at your own red eyes in the mirror on bathroom trip number three.
Dave kept his door open, watching as you leave your desk for the third time and he sighs. Standing, he walks out and to your phone to pick it up and forward the calls to his handset. Bypassing the need to have you screen his calls for him. It’s clear that this isn’t a normal day for you and he won’t treat it as such.
The blinking light on your desk phone when you get back again makes you frown, and you feel like you should be tucking your tail between your legs when you knock gently on Dave’s door and nudge it open. Apparently, you’ve been so out of it that you didn’t even realize it was cracked open. “Mr. York?” You’re formal because the other assistant in this section of the office is a busybody. “Is there a problem?”
Dave looks up from his computer and motions you to come inside. “Come on in and close the door, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly so that only you can hear him. “No problem that can’t be fixed.”
“I’m sorry I had to step away again.” His door clicks shut behind you and you brace yourself for him to be upset or at least disappointed – which everyone knows is worse. But he is generally an understanding boss and he’s an attentive partner, so the best you can do right now is wait to find out if you’ve finally tested him too much and hope that that isn’t the case.
“You don’t need to be sorry.” Dave pushed back from his desk and pats his thigh. “Come here, sweetheart.”
The pinpricks behind your eyes are immediate, and before you can stop them they’ve boiled over into full-blown tears with messy, garbled “I’m sorry”s hiccuped in between. There’s just no way in hell that you can manage sex right now. Not emotionally or even physically – cramps having kicked in finally and joined that unwelcome cacophony of symptoms.
“Hey, hey.” Frowning, Dave immediately stands, rushing over to you to pull you against his chest. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.” No clue why you started crying when he wanted you to sit on his lap, he’s a little alarmed at how you are reacting. Normally you love sitting on his lap at work, though he doesn’t want to have you sit on his cock this time.
“I just—I’m really sorry—” The game is now about keeping your voice down so Fran doesn’t hear you crying from outside the door. “I can’t today. I know it’s usually not a big deal but I just don’t feel up to it.”
“What?” He shakes his head, curling you into his chest a bit more. Protective of your feelings and wanting to provide you with comfort if you need it. “No, baby, I didn’t want sex. I just wanted to hold you. Nothing more.” He promises softly.
Good job dumb ass. The voice in your head chastises immediately, though you don’t move an inch from the safety of his arms. Always gotta assume the worst. “I’m sorry,” you murmur again, softer, this time apologizing for misunderstanding. “I guess I’m a little less myself today than I thought.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He had just wanted to hold you on his lap while he worked, but now he guides you over to the sofa in the corner of his office. “I have my sweats here. Do you want to get out of your tight skirt and pantyhose?” He offers.
It would be better. You know that. It would be so much more comfortable. Dave’s sweats and workout clothes are always soft and worn in, usually the kind of thing that you would jump at wearing if the situation arose. Carol does too, and sometimes you twin it in her husband’s clothes when you spend the weekend at their house. “That…” You’re nodding even as you protest. “That would be noticeable…I’ll just say I spilled coffee on my skirt, I guess.”
“You’re going to stay in here.” Dave tells you. “I’ve already set up the heating pad.” He uses it for when his back hurts or the ache and pains that come with his job, but he knows how much Carol depends on her heating pad during her periods. “And you can sleep or read or just watch me work.”
“I don’t understand.” Probably more than a little dense from all the fog of mood swings, you feel completely dumb when you just look at him like a lost puppy.
“You aren’t feeling good sweetheart.” One hand slides down to caress your stomach. “If you won’t go home, you’re going to let me take care of you.” He prefers that actually. “I have a drawerful of your favorite snacks and no more pressing meetings today.”
You really could cry all over again, both of your hands clasping over his on your middle. Sometimes you swear he gets moony over the idea of having more kids around, but he knows that’s not in your life plan any time soon. “You’re an angel, you know that right?”
“Gotta take care of my girl.” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours. “If I don’t, Carol and Quinn will have my hide.” It’s more than just the other two being annoyed with him, he wants to take care of you. Wants to make sure that you know you are loved and supported. “You want one of those Sprite Lymonades from the fridge? You’ve been drinking a lot of them lately. I can go grab one while you change. Or some tea?”
“Those stupid sodas are so good.” Slumping a little against his side, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle quietly. “I really appreciate this, honey…” He knows you’re never off your mark like this at work. So much so that he had no idea your periods and the accompanying symptoms were this bad until Carol had told him.
“I’ve got you.” He promises, sliding his hand around to your back and squeezing you slightly. “You go change and I’ll get you all set up for your much needed day of rest.”
He strides out the door a moment later with confidence and you snatch your purse out from under your desk to be able to have your phone and book on the couch in his office. Dave keeps his spare clothes and gym clothes in the small cabinet under the windows of his government issued office and you slip out the nondescript gray sweatpants and t-shirt that Carol got him on vacation over a decade ago. Exchanging your own clothes for his is like being wrapped in a warm York-family hug and you tuck your heels in next to the couch with your purse so you can lie down. Your partner’s clothes, a heating pad, and a book. This is the closest to comfortable that you’ve felt in two days.
If people are surprised that Dave is in the break room, they don’t show it. Most often you grab his coffee, but he fishes out his wallet to grab a couple of dollar bills to feed into the machine. He knows you will fret about not taking care of him since this is your job but Dave is a believer that as your boss and your lover, it’s also his job to take care of you. He punches the button for your desired drink and listens to it rattle around before dispensing the bottle of cold lemon-lime soda.
The electric blanket is tucked neatly against you when Dave comes back in, and you offer him a soft smile and a "Thank you" for the soda. "I'm just going to shoot Quinn a text and then order your lunch, and then I swear I'm off duty for the rest of the day." What you're actually doing is canceling on Quinn for tonight, but you'll just tell him that you're under the weather. He won't mind – it's not as though you had anything really planned. It was more of just an agreement to meet up for dinner and then see where the night took you.
“Don’t worry about that.” Dave shakes his head. “I’ll order lunch.” He promises. “Now. Do you want Oreos, a Twix, a Snickers, or the pack of those chocolate chip cookies you like?”
"You have my cookies?" Not expecting that in the least, since you had discovered them originally at a gas station of all places, you pause in writing a message to Quinn and lift your head. "You tracked down my stupid convenience store cookies?"
“I tracked down your stupid convenience store cookies.” He grins, walking over to his desk and opening the bottom draw to pull out not one, but two packs of the cookies you couldn’t find anywhere else.
“Daaaave…” There are the tears again, barely pushed back as you take the packages from him and stand up to give him a tight hug full of gratitude. “You’re so good to me.”
“You deserve it.” He promises you, kissing your hair. “Now I want you to let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
“I’m all set.” The salad you brought will keep until dinner if you eat cookies for lunch, but that has to be some kind of nutritional balance, right? “Thank you honey.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” He pulls out the blanket he sometimes uses when he’s too tired to go home late from a mission. Winking at you as he comes over to spread it out over you. “You just sit on your heating pad and look pretty.” He murmurs. “And cry if you need to. I won’t be mad about that.”
“Trust me, I won’t be able to stop myself from the way the day has been going so far.” You roll your eyes at yourself and give yourself permission to indulge in kissing him. It’s not like you haven’t done much worse on this couch, after all, but it means that you’re distracted enough to not hear Dave’s phone go off at his desk.
Once he kisses you and you are settled back against the cushions of the sofa, Dave makes his way back over to his desk. He picks up his phone and reads the text message from Quinn.
From SpaceCadet: Is she okay? She just canceled plans tonight. Said she wasn’t feeling well.
With your soda and your book you don’t even notice the way Dave’s face pinches when he looks down at his phone, finally letting your work brain turn off so you can just let yourself be distracted.
He glances over to you and starts typing out a reply. Having a bad day with her period. She’s been crying all morning. Got her camped out on the couch with a heating pad. Swing by her place and get a change of clothes and come to the house? I’m going to take her home.
From SpaceCadet: Copy that. Taking a half day and hitting the grocery store on my way there. Cooking for four or six?
Dave smirks at the reply, the girls love Quinn and he’s taken to them easily. Six. The girls are on a hot dog tear.
From SpaceCadet: Steaks for four and hot dogs for two. See you tonight.
There aren’t a lot of foods that Quinn has mastered but he can definitely feed kids and he makes a hell of a good steak. And since you had been showing him a thing or two or three in the kitchen he had really taken a new liking to cooking. So whatever he does, it’s almost guaranteed to be good.
Dave sets his phone down and glances back over to you to find you curled up with your cookies and soda, sniffing quietly as you read. It could be worse and he doesn’t want to smother you, so he turns towards his computer to knock out some emails.
******
When the end of the day comes you’ve managed a nap and a few more chapters in the novel that Carol had lent you, and you sit up on Dave’s couch still feeling burnt out and heavy with sadness despite resting all day. “I think I’m going to tuck in over the weekend,” you tell him, knowing it would be longshot to get anything done at home. Laundry and feeding yourself at most.
“That sounds good, sweetheart.” Dave nods, closing his computer down and locking his desk drawers. “Quinn’s bringing you some clothes and we are going to just veg for the weekend. Low key, relaxed and you won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Did you just say…” It takes you an extra second, but when you look back up he’s smiling in that completely self-satisfied way that he has whenever he’s plotted a surprise or knows he’s fully exhausted and satisfied you in bed. The expression that is his own little pat on the back. “You’re not letting me go home to wallow in privacy, are you?”
"Should we?" He asks, lifting a brow. "Are you telling me that I should let you go home to be alone and be miserable, stuck in your own head? Or my idea of bringing you home and letting me, Carol, and Quinn dote on you and spoil you?" If you really wanted to go home and be alone, he would let you. He just wouldn't be happy about it.
There’s guilt in your frown, and you dig your toes into the little rug runner under his sofa with a sigh. “I don’t want to spoil anyone’s good time.”
"You aren't going to spoil anything, sweetheart." It's Dave's turn to frown as he shakes his head. "We will have a perfectly good time just relaxing together. Carol knows what you are going through and Quinn and I? Well, we are good boys who do what our girls want us to." He sends you a small wink. "Even running out for your cookies."
In under thirty seconds your frown has turned into a pout with the corners of your lips distinctly turned up as you cross the office to put your arms around him again. “Thank you, love.” He’s very good at making big gestures seem small, and the longer you’re together the more natural it’s all starting to feel. Even bringing Quinn into the equation had been surprisingly simple. “I just—you know I wouldn’t ask for it. But I’m grateful to have it offered to me.”
"We will do anything for you, sweetheart." Dave reminds you, his own arms wrapping around your back and he kisses your forehead. "What do you think about letting me drive you home? Leaving your car here for the weekend?" You might want to go somewhere, but he and Quinn could always come back and get it if you need it.
“As long as it’s okay with my boss,” you flash him a grin, knowing that he doesn’t have anything on his calendar that you have to worry about this weekend and you were planning on face planting on your couch. “It sounds extremely sweet and pretty wonderful, honestly.”
"Okay, let's get out of here." Dave shoots you a grin, happy he's getting his way and you are going along with his plan. You will be pampered and taken care of. Just like you deserve to be.
******
Quinn and Carol’s cars are already in the driveway when you pull up to the house, and Dave parks in the garage beside his daughters’ bicycles. You’ve been having these family nights more often – all four adults together having dinner with his and Carol’s girls. Sometimes you’ll go to their recitals or watch movies with them all together, sometimes you’re just sitting at the kitchen table playing cards or board games while they do their homework. They’re used to you as their daddy’s assistant and friend, and now they’re used to Quinn, too. They tease you, of course, because Carol introduced him as Mommy and Daddy’s friend and your boyfriend, but it’s that cute kind of teasing that makes them giggle and sometimes ask if you’re gonna wear a big poofy dress when you get married one day. It’s harmless and sweet, and honestly you’ve really come to appreciate those moments of being a family together.
"Quinn promised to cook tonight." Dave tells you as he cuts the engine. "Steaks for us, so you know that Carol has whipped up some delicious sides and he probably bought a chocolate laden dessert."
“I owe you guys for this.” While you know that there is no point system – no one is keeping track of good deeds in this relationship the four of you have – you still know you’ll be doing extra little nice things for all of them to show them you’re thankful.
Dave scoffs but he doesn't answer, knowing that there is no point to it. Instead, he walks around the car and takes your purse and clothes from you. Keeping his hand on your back and chuckling. "Now that we are home, you can take your bra off."
“You bet your ass.” Both of you laugh and you let him sweep you into the house like a guest of honor instead of the frumpy pile of borrowed clothes and unsettled hair you are. A makeup wipe from your bag had washed away the careful face you applied this morning and while you do feel more human, you know you definitely look as tired as you feel.
"Honey." Carol immediately pops out of the kitchen, tutting and pouting at you as she sweeps in to wrap you up in a fierce hug. "You should have let Dave bring you home hours ago." She chastises you gently. "What do you need? The heating pad is already on the couch, or you can sit in the steam shower until dinner is ready."
“I’m okay,” you promise her instantly, accepting the tight hug and reminding yourself not to cry over how sweet she is. “I had the heating pad in Dave’s office all day and had a little nap while he worked. I just…” Sheepishly, you shrug a little in her arms and look around to find the girls nowhere in sight before you give Carol a kiss. “I just want to be around you guys.”
Carol pets your face, cooing against your lips softly. "We will take care of you." She promises, smiling as she pulls back. "Nothing better than two sexy men and me to dote on you when you are feeling yucky because Aunt Flo's being a cunt." She winks. "Pun intended."
“Unfortunately, she hasn’t even kicked in yet,” you laugh at the pun and let her steer you to a stool at the kitchen island. “This is just her pre show.”
"The show before the volcano." Carol winces and reaches out to rub your stomach. "I'm so sorry, love."
“I’ll be okay.” Another kiss can be stolen without too much fear, and you’re hugging her tightly when the glass door between the kitchen and the porch slides open. “Are they home? I thought I heard the car.” Quinn pops his head inside and looks around for a second before his eyes land on you with a sigh of relief. “Baby,” he sticks his lower lip out in a deep pout and immediately makes his way to your side to wind his arms around you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.” Periods are the number one reason he’s glad he’s not a woman, and he remembers how hard his ex-wife had it when they were together but it seems like sometimes yours are even worse.
“I’m okay now.” Carol has stepped away to make room for Quinn and you hug him every bit as tightly as you hugged her. “I have the world’s best people to look after me.”
"I've got some steaks on the grill." He knows red meat is good for you during this time and he was determined to make it the best damn steak you've ever put in your mouth. "And I'm already determined to give you a foot massage later on."
"When Dave said you guys weren't going to let me lift a finger this weekend he really meant it, huh?" It never fails to make you smile, though, because you know that the love between the four of you is steady as a rock. "Thank you, baby."
“You’re welcome.” Quinn winks at you and grins. “You know that we would do anything for you.” He kisses you quickly and lets you go. “I can’t over cook the steaks or York will never let me live it down!” He calls over his shoulder as he rushes back out onto the deck.
"So how was work, love?" When you turn back to Carol at the stove, Dave has already put a cold drink in front of you and is setting the table on your other side.
“It was snotty noses and uncooperative shots.” She chuckles. “So a perfect day in my world.” She is stirring the mushroom risotto and turns to send you a happy smile. “No emergencies, so it was wonderful.”
"We love any day the pediatrician's office doesn't have to deal with broken bones, virus epidemics, or random bouts of pink eye." Carol's work always keeps her plenty busy, but she always comes out of it with a smile and you admire the hell out of her for it. "Thankfully the office was quiet today. Seems like the day was pretty okay for everybody but my uterus," you chuckle lightly.
“Your uterus is angry with you.” Carol hums. “Or maybe it’s angry at the two sexy men that continuously fuck you but never gives it what it wants.”
"You just want another baby around without having to give birth to it yourself." Which isn't such a bad thing, but you still laugh a little as you sip the water that Dave had put in front of you.
“Duhhh.” Carol laughs and shakes her head. “No, but maybe we can talk to one of my colleagues, see if there’s something that can be done.”
"About me having a baby?" The immediate confusion has you sitting up in your seat before your mind catches up with your mouth. "Ohhh...wait...you mean about my dumbass periods."
“Of course, honey.” Carol reaches for the heavy cream to stir it in slowly. “I know you aren’t to that point yet, but you don’t deserve to suffer every month.”
It isn't too unusual for the topic of kids to come up considering you're the only one of the four of you without a biological child, but you typically wave it off just like you are now. "Every several years I have to change my birth control, that's all. They help the symptoms for a while and then they don't, ya know? It's fine. I just clearly need to see my gynecologist again."
“Okay.” She frowns slightly but she won’t push. “If you want me to make some calls, you just let me know, okay? I can call in some favors.”
"I appreciate it." Unfortunately, you're one of those unlucky women that got dealt a bad hand when it comes to monthly symptoms and you're managing it the best you can. What is lucky is that you have three people who love you who are willing to bend heaven and earth to help. "For now I'm just thinking good food and good company is the way to go. Even if I'm not up to running around with the girls...I'm glad Dave set this whole thing in motion." Because you know it was him. This level of coordination smacks of Dave York's handiwork.
“Of course. You know Dave.” She smiles indulgently as she looks towards the door. “He likes to make a fuss and he would do anything for you. We all would.”
"I'd do anything for all of you." That is as earnest a promise as you can possibly make, and you would make it as many times as they needed for the rest of time. Dave's gone outside after setting the table, getting a few private minutes with Quinn before dinner, and you glance back at the glass door before turning to Carol with a grin. "Did you guys have fun last night? Quinn was really excited but he wouldn't tell me what he had planned."
“We did.” She smiles fondly and knows you will understand. “We relived a little bit of the golden days. He took me to a dive bar and then we got a hotel room and pretended it was our old dorms.”
"Oh, cuuute." They've enjoyed rekindling their college romance and it's been sweet to see Carol and Quinn in that sunny, lovey stage. "That sounds like a perfect way to have some time together. He was so excited, I'm glad you loved it."
“I just hate that you were having a miserable time while we were having fun.” She pouts softly.
"If I had called you would have dropped everything and then you would have missed out on Quinn's whole plan." You shake your head, reaching out to rub her shoulder gently while she pulls the pan off the stove. "This is better. We have no plans for the weekend and the girls have a sleepover tomorrow. We can relax and be together with no expectations or changes of plans."
“As long as you do exactly what you want.” She murmurs softly as she covers the pot to keep it warm.
"What I want is to sneak a little forkful of whatever dessert Quinn picked up." The conspiratorial smile you share with her is broad, and you put your hands out to take the pot from her to put on the table.
“I think that I didn’t see you open the box on the first shelf of the fridge.” She winks at you and walks around you to put it on the table herself.
"You're a goddess," you promise Carol, as if she doesn't already know it. In their big refrigerator, a tall white cardboard bakery box stamped with the logo of the bakery down the block from your own apartment is waiting, and when you pop the lid your favourite cherry chocolate cake is staring back at you. "Oh my god," you groan happily and swipe a finger through the deeply rich ganache on top before turning back to Carol. "I love all of you. You're spoiling me and I'm going to return the favour so many times over."
“I knew you would want it.” She tells you proudly. She had told Quinn exactly where to go and what to get in order to put that exact expression on your face. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Let him have the credit.”
"Cross my heart." The motion of crossing your finger over your heart goes with it and you make a mental note to really rock the hell out of your next date with Carol as a thank you. "Do you need anything else from the fridge while I'm in here?"
“Can you grab the asparagus salad?” She asks. “Second shelf, metal bowl.”
"Done and done!" Even just being around your partners has brightened your mood, and even though you know it will ebb and flow for the next couple of days before your cycle starts, at least you're feeling buoyed by the idea that these three wonderful people all want you to be happy and cared for.
The rush to the table happens nearly all at once, with the guys coming in from the grill bearing a large platter and Dave going to fetch the girls while Carol gets the tray of condiments for their hot dogs. It's big, it's busy, it's noisy, and it's so wonderfully comfortable. Even though you're not feeling yourself, you feel the closest you possibly could.
“Hey babe.” Quinn curls around your back and kisses just below your ear. “How are you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing your shoulders.
"A little better." You feel like you can breathe again, emotionally anyway, so that is a big step in the right direction. "What are the chances you're going to stay this weekend and hang out with us?" Just like the rest of you, Quinn has an extraordinarily demanding job and you know very well that a traditional weekend away from the office is not always possible for him.
“There’s nothing on the books so I’m all yours unless there’s a crisis.” He murmurs, smirking as he sits down beside you. “So I’m praying the world doesn’t burn.”
"Or if it does, that it has nothing to do with NASA." A soft kiss between you helps you relax even further, and in no time the six of you are sitting down at the table like it's a perfectly normal family dinner.
Dave hums happily, reaching for Carol’s hand and he pulls it up to kiss the back of it. “It’s a good day.” He murmurs as he watches you and Quinn put your heads together and talk quietly.
"You did a very sweet thing for her today, my love." Carol hums, kissing the back of her husband's hand in turn.
“I hated seeing her cry.” He admits quietly. “It was all I could do to keep working and not just bring her home and sit her on my lap.”
“Poor thing.” She tuts softly, shaking her head as Dave fills her plate for her. “I’m just glad she works for you and not someone who would force her to keep going in agony.” There are plenty of bosses like that out in the world, but she hates to think of you working for them. If she could keep you safe and cared for and always have someone there to adore you, she would.
“She wouldn’t go home, so I had to just make sure she didn’t suffer too badly.” He hands his wife her plate with a soft smile.
“You did good.” She beams at him and gives him a kiss on the cheek before taking her plate. “Now we can have a nice weekend as a family.” And if that family already felt complete before you and Quinn joined it, then having the two of you is the icing on a very sweet cake.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Dave York#Dave York x reader#Dave York x you#Dave York x female reader#Dave York x f!reader#Carol York#Carol York x reader#Quinn McKenna#Quinn McKenna x reader#Quinn McKenna x you#Equalizer 2#The Predator#crossover fanfic#poly fam
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
dream ballet
Happy Danktober 4th! Today's prompts are Spanking, Scallop, and National Taco Day! Happy Taco Tuesday!
TBAD Polycule: Dave York x Carol York x Marcus Pike x F!Reader (22+)
Summary: You and your lovers share your strange dreams one lovely, lazy morning.
Word Count: 937
Warnings: none. Dave being a horny bastard toward the end.
A/N: Hi my TBAD babes <3 kissing you all on the mouth.
[full danktober list here]
[TBAD series masterlist]
"There is no possible way that there's an entry on tacos."
"It's possible. There's actually tons of meanings."
"This is wild," Marcus laughed and pulled an arm around you, tugging Carol closer in bed. You lounged with your head in Carol's lap, and she played with your hair idly.
"This website is insane. Tell me more about the tacos. Were you... eating them? Making them, were there too many tacos?"
"Too many tacos? Blasphemy," Carol scoffed.
"I was eating them," Marcus said, taking a breath and refreshing his memory. "We were in the kitchen. On the outside it looked creepy, we were all staring at one another and smiling across a big plate of tacos. Nobody talking, just smiling."
"You're right, that does sound creepy," Carol teased, earning her a visit to Marcus' ticklehands.
"Aw, this is so cute." You sat up and turned to face them. "Tacos signify warmth and comfort, going with the flow and being content with your life. Sharing with others--I'm assuming, since we were all there and not fighting over them--could mean you're a selfless person and a provider for your family."
"That's so sweet! What the hell?" Carol leaned over and reread the entry you were referencing on the dream meanings website. "So random, too. How do the tacos know?"
"Dreams don't always have to make sense," Marcus said, blushing a little and trying to deflect the praise as always. "In fact, dream ballets tend to occur outside the continuity of the production."
"They also were powerful tools of foreshadowing through dance and music."
"Foreshadowing what? Tuesday?"
"Plot."
"Damn, forgot you were a dance captain in high school," Marcus said with a shake of his head. He kissed Carol's cheek. "What'd you dream about last night? Anything weirdly symbolic?"
"...yes."
You looked up at her eagerly, opening another tab on your phone. "There... we were... okay, I can't remember a lot of it. But I do remember I was sitting on the beach with everyone. And suddenly the ground started shaking and we were picked up high in the air, and we were all sitting in the shell of a scallop."
"A scallop?!" you and Marcus said as one.
"Yes! Just the empty shell. It was so strange."
"What happened next?" you implored, typing furiously for anything that could be deciphered.
"The shell stopped rising, and you all looked at me and said this is yours," her voice was oddly monotone. "And then we all vanished. And I woke up."
"... and you say my dream was creepy. We were at least at home in my head."
"Oh, shut it," Carol laughed. "What's it mean, honey? Am I going to kill again?"
"Yes," you said dryly, before your face went all soft and sappy. "Scallops are the symbol of love and beauty. Aphrodite came from a scallop shell. You also like to wear lace a lot, so this tracks. Scallops can imply lace of fancy ornamentation."
"I like dressing nice!" Carol said, mock-defensively.
"Take the compliment, Carol..." Marcus growled, tickling her again. "You're our goddess of love and beauty."
She kissed him to stop him. "Fine. I'm the goddess of love and beauty. Happy?"
"Yes," you and Marcus answered.
"What about you, sweetheart?" he asked, reaching over and playing with your hair like Carol had done before. "Any dream meanings to share with us?"
"I'm six of one, half a dozen of the other," you said with a wave of your hand. "Dave spanked me for my birthday last year and my birthday is in a few days."
"You... you had dreams of getting spanked?" Carol said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"You were right about the foreshadowing," Marcus said with a similar smirk. You felt your face get hot at the very thought of what they may have planned for your birthday.
The front door opened and shut then, followed by a lock sliding home and a familiar sigh. Dave walked in through the door a minute later, sweaty from his run. "Look at you all," he said adoringly when he walked through, putting his running shoes back in the closet as he started to strip for his shower. The three of you watched greedily.
"Do you have dreams, Dave?" Marcus asked.
"Of course."
"Of what? Did you dream last night?"
"Hm, possibly." He wiped his face off with a dry spot on his shirt before tossing it in the hamper. "Why?"
"What happened?"
"Yeah, tell us."
"Was it weird or special?"
He gave you all a strange look, eyes landing on the phone in your hand. "Oh, you can't possibly believe that."
"We don't, it's just funny to look at," you said quickly.
"It called Carol the goddess of love and beauty."
"And it called Marcus happy, and that he loved providing for us."
Dave shrugged, slipping his shorts off. He tended to go commando on his runs, and this morning was no different. Your smiles grew wider, watching the free show. "I guess there's some truth to it. But anyone could have guessed that."
"I dreamed of getting spanked for my birthday."
"Well I'll try and make your dreams come true, then," Dave smirked. "I just dream of fucking you three stupid, all the goddamn time. Comes true every day."
He stepped into the shower, leaving his stunned partners on the bed gaping after where he was standing.
"I'm foreshadowing shower sex," you said, scrambling to your feet.
"That's not how foreshadowing works!" Marcus called, getting up as well.
"She's just making his wishes come true!" Carol laughed, joining the crowd in mobbing Dave in the shower.
#TBAD#danktober 2022#unhingery#carol york x dave york x marcus pike x reader#f!reader#really halfassed that header huh
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing �� sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting
word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
*****
In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.
After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.
“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.
“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries.
“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.
Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile.
The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.
“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.
Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.
“Oy, lovebirds!”
At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.
Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas.
Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.
“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.
“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila.
Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.
“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him.
Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically.
Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”
Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells.
“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —
And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie.
The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.
A quiet hush falls.
Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.
“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”
*****
As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly.
Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair.
“You ready to ride the waves, bub?”
“Yeah! I’m ready!”
Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.
Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art.
Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?
“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.
You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily.
When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.
Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.
“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”
“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”
“There goes my heterosexuality.”
You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.
“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?”
You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.
But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.
“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.”
It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.
“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”
Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.
Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.
Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.
“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.
“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.
The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.
“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair.
You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.
“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.
You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.
“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts.
The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.
“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.
Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.
Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely.
Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.
“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.
You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.
Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly.
“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”
Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.
You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”
Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.
*****
“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.
You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”
Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.
Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.
As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.
You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.
As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.
The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot.
Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.
You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.
“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.
“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.
“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.
You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from.
“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest.
“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness.
Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.
In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.
“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.
“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.
In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—
“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air.
But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.
You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.
“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.
“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.
Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response.
*****
Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting.
And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.
You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.
Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.
“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you.
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.
The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself.
The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.
“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.
Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.
“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.
“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.
You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.
“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.
Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.
“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.
“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.
“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure.
Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.
It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.
Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes.
Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.
You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.
Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.
Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange.
With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.
“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”
Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”
“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”
*****
and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!
reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader smut#wlw smut#gxg smut#marvel smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha x reader smut#top reader#sub natasha romanoff#dom reader#bottom natasha romanoff#butch4femme#butch reader#femme4butch
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Bodyguard
Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader
Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?
Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.
Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.
When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.
“How bad is it?” Nat asks.
Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”
“The actress?”
“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”
“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”
“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”
“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”
“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.
Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.
“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.
“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”
“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.
“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”
Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.
The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.
You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.
“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.
Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.
“Oh, hi,” you say to her.
“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”
“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.
“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.
“Right, okay.”
“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”
She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.
“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”
“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.
“I was listening.”
“Sure.”
“Tell me the last rule,” you say.
“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”
Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”
“Okay,” Kate replies.
“Thank you.”
You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.
She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.
“What are you doing?!” You ask her.
“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.
You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.
At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.
The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.
The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.
“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.
“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet.
“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”
“Not tonight,” you reply.
You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.
“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.
“No,” you say firmly.
“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.
“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”
“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.
“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.
“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”
“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.
Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.
She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.
“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.
“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.
You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.
“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.
You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.
“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.
“You can call me Natasha,” she says.
“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.
“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”
“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.
“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”
“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.
Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.
When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.
“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.
“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.
She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.
“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.
“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”
“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”
You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.
“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.
“Really?”
“Really. Inside and out,” she says.
“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.
“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.
There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.
You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.
“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”
“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”
To be continued…
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort#bodyguard!natasha#actress!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.
up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader
(is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.)
aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song.
but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it.
this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.
in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore.
eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.
"and i'm fading, thinkin':
'do something, babe. say somethin'.
lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe.
i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"
The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut.
No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen.
Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out.
And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years.
Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating.
The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it.
You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!”
The two bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?”
“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”
You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.
“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–”
“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar.
“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’
“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”
“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.”
“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.”
“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips.
“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go.
“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner.
The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles.
“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host.
“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks.
“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.”
The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen.
“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout.
“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.
“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.”
“It’s wild,” Gare laughs.
“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.”
The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.
You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.
“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.
Oh.
Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.
You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you.
The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car.
You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.”
You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.
“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.”
You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.”
“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.”
“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.”
“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.”
“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.”
“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?”
You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.”
Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back.
Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill.
“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.”
“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat.
“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold.
“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.”
“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling.
“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.”
“Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits.
“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.”
“Great.”
“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table.
“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?”
“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”
“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“
“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh.
“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–”
“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?”
“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.”
“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.”
“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!”
“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?”
He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.
“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans.
“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.”
“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.
“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.”
“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?”
“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck.
“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!”
“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”
You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before.
His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite.
“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.”
Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.”
“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.”
“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.”
“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.”
“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.”
“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…”
When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.
A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted.
Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.
You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.
In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers.
“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep.
“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand.
“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–”
“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger.
“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?”
Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.”
“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.”
“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.”
You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.”
His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.
“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside.
You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder.
You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest.
‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night.
‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’
Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door.
‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers.
The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead.
“How much?” you ask over the music.
“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear.
“HOW MUCH?” you yell back.
“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar.
The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part.
A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar.
“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool.
“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face.
“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!”
She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony.
“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle.
“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.”
“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?”
“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.”
“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease.
“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”
“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.”
Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.”
“I love that he’s in love,” you gush.
“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.”
There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd.
Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.
He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny.
Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it.
‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’
‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again.
‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’
You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that.
You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do.
Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be.
Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies.
People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather.
‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’
You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you.
With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.
The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin.
“You come here often?”
Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s.
“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.”
Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.”
You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.
He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you.
“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson au#rockstar!eddie munson x reader#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie#rockstar!eddie x reader
826 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag La Rue
pairing: Clarisse La Rue x reader
summary: Valentines Day rolls around, and what kind of girlfriend would Clarisse be if she didnt get you the only present you've been wanting?
a/n: i wrote like 5 fucking valentines day fics yesterday (one with natasha, one with wanda, one with clarisse, one with carol danvers, and one with katniss everdeen) yet this is the only one im posting and i kinda hate it. literally the shortest oneshot i've ever written. also, I'm literally a dog person writing about cats. what has life come to?
is this the worst thing i've ever written? yes. do i hate every other piece of written recently cuz im in writers block and haven't updated in like 3 weeks? also yes. im so done yall.
With a baseball cap covering her head, tucking her curls against her head and being the best disguise she could come up with, Clarisse’s eyes dart all around the cab. It zooms through the streets of New York, making the child of Are’s slightly concerned for her and her siblings safety as they get honked out. The man driving seems like he’s barely paying attention to the road, but in the end it doesn’t really matter as long as they get to their destination.
There are three children in the yellow car; Clarisse, her half brother Mark, and her half sister Ruby. They were the only ones who she could convince to come with her to town, past the safe bounds of camp half blood where nothing but their weapons can stop monsters from hunting and hurting them.
It’d be a lie to say Clarisse isn’t nervous, but she pushes the feeling down as she grips her spear tighter in her left hand.
This is for you. She’s going into town and risking getting in trouble for the end result of seeing her favorite smile. Your smile. Her partner of one year. It may not seem like a very long time to some people, but you guys are demigods. It’s surprising you made it through the year without being killed by some horrible, ugly monster.
The car stops and the guy counts the large amount of money Mark hands him before telling them to get out of his cab. It may have annoyed the teenagers on any other day, but it doesn’t bother them too much since today is a special day.
“Why are we here?” Ruby asks, eyes scanning the area around them as if sure something is going to jump out at them. In the blonde haired girl's defense, it’s very possible something will.
Clarisse gestures to the small building in front of them. It’s run down and in desperate need of a paint job, but it doesn’t matter. That’s not what grabs the child of Ares attention. It’s the small animals chilling in their little spots inside the store. That’s what she’s here for.
The sign above the small colorful store reads, “Mike’s Animals”. Boring name, but gets the point across. She can already see the little animal she came here for when they walk through the door, the loud bell ringing from the action of opening it but no employee comes to help them. Clarisse lets her siblings stare in awe at the other animals for a few months before shoving towards a section near the back. The kitten section. You had been showing her a website on your phone a few days ago, one with a different selection of the small animals. The website was for Mike’s Animals, but you explained that even though you’d really like a cat, pets aren’t allowed in Camp Half Blood. It’s a rule.
Well you wanna know what Clarisse says about that? Screw rules. What her person want’s, her person gets.
So if the police ever come around, asking you why Clarisse shoved a black and white kitten into her brother's coat pocket and then made a run for it while the store manager chased after them, that’s what you have to say.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
You're laying on your bed reading a book when your girlfriend walks in, a large box covered by a piece of fabric under one arm and a bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She ignores your siblings' gazes as she walks towards your space, setting down the box with a type of gentleness nobody in camp but you gets to see and then holding out the flowers.
They’re your favorite, clearly straight out of the flower fields by the slight glow they give off. They’re wrapped in a brown type of paper with a pink bow clearly down by one of the Aphrodite kids to hold it all together.
“Hey my love.” She starts. “These are for you.” You take the plants with a large grin on your face, bringing them closer to your face to smell the amazing natural scent coming from them. Something moves inside the box she sat on your bed, making you hold in a scream as you jump closer to your girlfriend and farther away from it. “What the hell is moving in that Clarisse?!” You ask, your siblings' attention all over you guys now.
Clarisse just laughs, but she seems slightly nervous as she puts the crate in your lap. “Just look. I hope you like it.” She continues to nervously ramble as you remove the cloth from the top of the box, letting out a small gasp when you see the small animal looking back at you with wide, curious blue eyes.
Your girlfriend stares as you gently pick him up, him instantly curling into your hold with a soft pur as you hold him close to your chest. “You um…you like him?” She asks with a small smile.
“Of course I do! He’s adorable, Risse!” She lets out a relieved sigh, laying down next to you as your siblings surround the bed trying to get a look at the animal. “You know Chiron will never let you keep that right?” One of your brothers asks with a laugh, and you frown as you look at your girlfriend.
She thinks about it for a moment before she says, “We’ll just hide him. He can lounge around the cabin while you’re gone, and you guys can hide him somewhere during cabin checks. Chiron will never know.”
Your siblings eventually leave you alone, going back to their acticicus as your two favorite beings cuddle up to you. Clarisse cuddles up next to your side, and the kitten on your stomach. “I really like you Oreo.” you whisper to the animal, making your girlfriend laugh. “Oreo? That’s the most original thing you could think of right?”
“Okay if you're so great at naming things, what should we name him?”
She goes quiet for a few seconds before mumbling in defeat, “I like Oreo.”
You guys enjoy the silence that surrounds just you guys as you pet Oreo, but then a small laugh comes from you when Clarisse gently grabs the cat and pulls him off your chest so she can lay her head there. “He’s been here for half an hour and you're already jealous?” “He was getting way too touchy. Mine.” She teases and then fakes an annoyed groan when he crawls onto her back and lays down, stretching himself out just to prove a point.
“Will you be my Valentine, my love?” She asks as she places her chin on your chest to look up at you. There's a certain softness in her eyes that you and only you get to see. In fact, it’s very, very rare you ever see the side everyone else talks about when they talk about Clarisse towards you. “You guys just don’t know her like I do.” You tell them. Not like they believe you, half of the camp still believing you somehow put a spell on her.
“Only if you’ll be mine.” You whisper back as if it’s a secret.
“Oh…this is awkward. I already agreed to be like ten other girls date.” Her voice is teasing as she tries and fails not to giggle.
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.”
“Hm.” You fake being offended as you cross your arms over your chest and look away. She laughs, and the sound practically forces a smile on your face.
“I’m kidding. Only you, angel. I’m yours. Always.”
“And I’m yours, Clarisse La Rue.”
“Always?”
“And forever.”
There’s a knock on your cabin door, and you figure it’s another camper until a voice calls from the other side of the door, “Clarisse? I know you're in there. Your siblings told me where you went. Cat’s out of the bag La Rue.” Chiron says. Very terrible choice of words. She groans into your stomach, rolling off of you and successfully getting Oreo to jump off her back and onto the bed.
“Those little snitches.” She snarls as she gets up to open the door, making you instantly miss her warmth.
You place the cat under your sweater, giggling and then shoving his face back under when he crawls to put his head through the neck hole. Once she knows he’s covered, Clarisse opens the door. Chirons eyes fall to you, and it’s only then do you think about the fact that there is a giant Oreo shaped lump in your sweater.
All your siblings fall silent as they watch to see what’s gonna happen.
“Mac and cheese day am I right?” You try to joke with a nervous chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh. He just runs a hand over his face and then stares at you. “You know what? I don’t care. You find a way to feed him that isn’t taking resources from us, you make sure he doesn’t do any damage to the furniture, and you keep track of him at all times, you can keep him.”
You grin at him, letting the small animal out of your sweater who in turn lowly hisses at the sight of Chiron.
He groans, walking off as he mumbles something about needing a very long vacation. There's only so much of your girlfriend bending the rules to get you presents he can handle before he was bound to just accept it.
The cinatar leaves, your girlfriend flipping him off when he can’t see. He yells over his shoulder, “I know what you’re doing Clarisse! Stop it or no dessert!”
She stops flipping him off. Next to you, chocolate cake is what she lives for.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
That night, as you sit with Clarisse at the bonfire, she listens to you complain about how much you miss Oreo. Usually, you’d be too busy roasting marshmallows and cuddling with her to think about anything else, but your girlfriend doesn’t do anything other than smile, happy she made you so happy.
“So how’d you get him anyway? You don’t have that kind of money and there’s no way Chiron gave it to you.” You say, and she freezes in her spot on a log, slightly tightening her arms that are wrapped around your waist as she avoids your eyes.
“I stole him.” Her voice is slightly quieter than usual, and she says this in the most casual tone she can muster.
“CLARISSE LA RUE!”
#clarisse la rue#clarisse x reader#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x you#fluff#valentines day#pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson series#cats#don't call my bitch the lightning theif percy!#what was that ending?#11 days late lol#valentines gifts#valentines day fic
491 notes
·
View notes
Text
i can see the end as it begins
chapter 1 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.
word count: ~5k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻
a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!
“I want a divorce.”
It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.
He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.
And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.
He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.
It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.
He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.
It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.
Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.
But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?
You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.
You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.
If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.
Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.
You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.
“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.
Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.
Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.
“Lots of women you could meet there!”
He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.
He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.
He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.
“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.
“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.
“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.
“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.
Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–
“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.
“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.
“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”
She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.
The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.
He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.
The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.
You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.
“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.
“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.
Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.
“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”
You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.
David. Dave. Oh. Oh.
“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.
Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.
The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.
Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.
When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.
David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.
It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.
The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.
No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.
When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.
“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.
“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”
Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”
You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.
You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.
“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.
“I don’t think you are.”
Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.
“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.
The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.
He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”
You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.
“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.
“Me too,” he rasps.
When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.
“Do you want me to come up with you?”
“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.
“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”
He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.
“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”
“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”
He shakes his head, still not looking at you.
“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”
“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”
His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.
“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.
His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.
“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.
“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.
Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.
“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”
You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.
“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.
At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.
“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”
Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.
He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.
“Good.”
He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.
“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”
You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.
“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.
With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.
“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”
He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.
“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”
You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.
The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.
“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”
You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.
“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”
His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.
“Just one time?” he rasps once more.
“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.
He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.
You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.
“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.
“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.
He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.
So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.
“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.
He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”
You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.
“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”
Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.
“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”
He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.
“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.
“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”
Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.
He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.
“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”
You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.
You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?
He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.
Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.
Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.
He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.
You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.
“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”
He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.
“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.
You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.
When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.
“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”
if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)
#fic: wildest dreams#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york smut#pedrostories#dave york fanfiction#dave york fic#dbf!dave york
336 notes
·
View notes
Text
strangers : fog | dave york
pairing: dave york x f!reader
word count: 5208
chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know
notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey
Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo
strangers masterlist | previous | next | playlist | inspo board
It’s sweet.
But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction.
It’s perfect. Just enough.
The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber.
Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure.
You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing.
Finally.
You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot.
He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness.
“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment.
“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected.
The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you.
“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting.
“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”
His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible.
He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief.
“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips.
Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions.
It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body.
“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”
“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths.
“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”
“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing.
“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”
You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.
“Fuck— Joel!”
You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness.
Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding.
The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin.
The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing.
There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins.
The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you.
The beach.
Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.
You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue.
Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake.
Good Morning, Babe
Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit.
Love you
Xoxo
You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation.
A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it.
Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions.
Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you.
Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom.
Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then.
Did she find out? Find out what?
*
The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.
The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks.
The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return.
Good Morning! Are you busy?
No. Are you okay?
Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to.
One sec!
It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief.
It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air.
The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat.
Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless.
Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better.
“Mmm… Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone.
“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”
“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”
“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well.
“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.”
“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air.
“I’ve got some time.”
Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone.
“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night, then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”
“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely.
“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”
“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”
“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”
“Fucking men, I swear.”
“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”
After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night.
Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.
There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation.
You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk.
You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed.
“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well.
“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette.
“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”
““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you.
“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes.
“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.”
There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh.
“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before.
“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”
“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“
“Ashley.” Details Jacey.
“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge.
“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead.
“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”
“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud.
“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession.
“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.”
“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”
“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”
The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again.
It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever.
On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being.
The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel.
In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.
You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone.
The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner.
Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together.
Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you.
His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing.
“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear.
Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant.
“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”
“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation.
“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed.
Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.
“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face.
“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom.
Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him.
“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him.
“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.
“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you.
Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it.
“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more.
“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face.
You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways.
“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected.
“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair.
“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground.
He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair.
“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you.
“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him.
His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more.
“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.”
“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss.
You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.
His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment.
His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.
“Fuck— Dave!”
“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.
“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more.
Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.
“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again.
You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it.
Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.
“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release.
‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there.
Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side.
“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.
A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time.
You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge.
It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it.
Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body.
A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific.
It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through.
The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire.
“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height.
Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest.
“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face.
The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.”
“Love you too, Dave.”
#Dave York#dave york x reader#Dave York x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#wildemaven writes#pedrostories
267 notes
·
View notes
Text
High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 11.1k
Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex
Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.
Co-written with @pedropascalsx
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.
The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.
Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.
The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar.
The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him?
After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.
****
Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.”
“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.
“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.”
Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door.
“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.”
The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.
“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”
“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.
You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.”
Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.
Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.”
Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.
You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”
Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”
“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”
He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.
“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’
“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”
“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”
Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”
“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”
“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”
“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”
“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”
He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.
“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”
“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”
“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”
Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”
“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”
He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.
“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.
****
Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.
“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”
“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”
“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”
“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”
“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”
He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”
“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”
Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.
“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.
“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”
“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”
“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.
“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”
Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.
The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.
“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”
“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.”
“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”
“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.
“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”
Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”
“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”
He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”
“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”
“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”
Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”
“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”
“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”
“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”
“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.
“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.
“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”
He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”
“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”
“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.
“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”
“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.
“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”
“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”
“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.
“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.
“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”
You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”
“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”
“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.
****
“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.
“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”
“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”
“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”
“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”
“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”
“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.
“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”
“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.
“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”
The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door.
“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.
“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.”
“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”
“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”
Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.
Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs.
You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening.
‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’
Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’
You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’
Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’
‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’
‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.
‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.
****
The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.
You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.
Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”
“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”
“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”
“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”
“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”
“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”
“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.
“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.
“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.
“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”
“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.
“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”
“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.
“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is.
“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.
“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”
“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”
“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”
“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”
“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”
“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”
“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.
“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.
“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”
“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”
“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.”
Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”
You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.
****
The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”
“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.
Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”
“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”
“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”
“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.
****
“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast.
“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink.
“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.
Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.
You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.
Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”
“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night.
“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”
The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.
“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”
“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”
Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”
“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”
Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.
You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard.
‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”
“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”
He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.
You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look” around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”
“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.
“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”
Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”
“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”
“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”
“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones.
‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it.
Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”
Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”
You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys.
“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.
Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”
“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.
“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”
He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”
“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.
“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”
“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.
Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”
“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”
“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.”
Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"
“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”
“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”
You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him.
“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”
You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.
“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”
You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.
Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.
You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.
Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”
Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.
“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”
You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”
Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.
“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”
“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”
“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.
"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."
“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”
"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."
“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.
“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.
“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.
He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.
You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.
Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.
With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.
Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.
It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.
Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.
“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”
“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.
“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”
“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.
“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.
Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”
Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.
He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.
You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”
The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.
You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”
“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”
“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.
He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.
It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.
His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.
“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"
“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.
"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."
“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.
You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.
With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.
One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”
You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.
Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.
“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.
There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.
The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”
“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.
With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress.
Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.
“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.
“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.
“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”
Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.
You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.
“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”
“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”
Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.
“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.
“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.
You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.
Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”
You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”
“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back.
“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”
“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”
You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.
He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.
“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.
“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.”
“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”
“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”
“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”
“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”
“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.
“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”
“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”
“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”
“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.
“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.
“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.
Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.
****
[A year later]
Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.
He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.
The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.
It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.
#pedro pascal#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x you#dave york x f!reader#dave york smut#dave york fanfiction#dave york imagine#dave york fic#dave york equalizer 2
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE BABYSITTER BLACKMAIL CHRONICLES - part 1 - Dave!York x Reader/Babysitter
Summary: Dave York's college-aged babysitter (you!) rides him after his wife leaves him high and dry.
rating: 18+
Words: 1.4k
tags: plot? What plot? , Cheating, Babysitter, Names (slut, whore, babygirl), age gap, poor Carol. Unprotected P in V, Female orgasm, no use of y/n.
A/N: Y'all this is pwp because I'm ovulating okay. There ain't no plot, the characterization is fucking laughable and I had to commit it here. Don't judge okay?
REBLOGS - COMMENTS - MEAN THE WORLD.
-------------------------
The York home is dark, the only light and sound coming from the flickering television downstairs. Rain moves drunkenly down the large window panes of the suburban home at the end of the street.
Carol York, mother of two is slipping into her sleep shirt, having just peeked in to see her two darling daughters sleeping soundly before closing their doors.
Tonight was a long night at her work party. Dave, handsome and charming had wooed everyone he met, having them eating out of the palm of his hand.
Carol wishes she hadn't drank so much at the open bar so she could have taken up Dave's offer of a deep fuck when they got home, the suggestion whispered in her ear in the back of the taxi home.
Now she perches at the top of the stairs, listening to the sound of the television downstairs murmuring gently.
"Dave?"
She bellows her husband's name down the stairs, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
"Yeah?" comes his husky disembodied voice from downstairs.
"Is the babysitter still here?"
You're the best babysitter they've ever had. Their daughters adore you, the house is always spotless when they arrive home and you're so polite with your ma'am and sirs. She feels so lucky to have found you.
"Dave did you hear me?"
"Yeah, honey." A pause, then his voice a little louder, a curl of amusement in it. "She's just finishing something up."
Carol wrinkles her nose, puzzled. Dave is such a stickler he probably has you cleaning the entire counter because he found a crumb. She rolls her eyes.
"Dave she's got classes tomorrow!" Carol chides down the stairs at him. "Don't work her too hard!"
She thinks she hears a muffled laugh before your voice sounds out from below.
"He's not ma'am," you call up cheerfully. "I like doing my job thoroughly."
Carol smiles, shaking her head at Dave's persistent need to control everything down to how much the babysitter cleans. Oh well, you always come back so that's all she cares about.
"Are you giving her a ride?" Carol calls down the stairs sleepily. "It's late I don't want her taking the bus at this hour."
"Lemme check if she's wants one," Dave calls back to Carol, but he's unable to stop looking at your face screwed up in ecstasy as you writhe in his lap.
You've been riding him for the better part of ten minutes, thighs quaking, cunt dripping.
He's seated comfortably on the couch, legs spread wide and his pants and boxers around his ankles. His dress shirt is still on and you cling to the light blue linen covering his broad shoulders.
"Yeah, I'm giving her a ride."
Dave calls this up to Carol, his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. But his eyes are stuck on you, perfect, bouncy, shiny, babysitter you. You give a breathless laugh in return, brows saddling when his length hits a really good spot. His voice lowers.
"You like your ride, babygirl?"
He grins up at you, large palms urging your hips to roll over his.
"Yes sir," you say breathlessly down at him.
He's holding you by the hips as your breasts bounce inches from his mouth. You're wearing nothing but your plaid skirt and it's ridden up, bunched at your waist. His hands slide up to cup your breasts as you shift yourself on his lap, tugging at the nipples as you bite back a moan.
His cock is buried within your slick cunt, partially exposed under your skirt. His hands slide back down to cup you’re the meat of your ass in a brutal grip that pulls you up and down along his length.
"Faster baby," he whispers against your throat. "Faster."
He lifts his own hips, pulling you to a new angle and fucking up into you. His face is pure concentration, teeth gritted and bared, brown eyes blown black, forehead dotted with sweat. You jostle in his lap, your thighs burning as you spread them wider, wanting to feel every inch of him. You gasp as he hits that sweet spot that has your toes curling.
"Shhh," Dave soothes when you start to whimper. "Don't wanna get caught do we? What would my wife do if she found our sweet, innocent babysitter bouncing on my cock like a little slut?"
At this his fingers slide along your clit, beginning to stroke with measured skill. He grins when he sees your eyes cheat to the back of your head. He glances down, pulling up the front of your skirt to watch your pussy swallowing his cock, gleaming with your arousal.
"Mmmm, like being my little slut, don't you?"
"Yes...” you breathe. “Yes sir."
It's not long before your breathing is labored and Dave is watching you with rapt fascination. The couch creaks slightly, and he slows his circling within you, wanting to extend the moment. You’re so wet it’s dripping down his balls, sure to stain the fabric of the couch below him.
"Listen to that," he says volume matching that of the television advertising some miracle spot remover. You listen, quickly flushing when you realize he wants you to hear the sound of your copious slick coating his fingers.
"So fucking wet, babygirl," he purrs up at you, his thumb tapping your clit at the base and making you jolt. He smiles broadly at your reaction, his sweet eyes crinkling in amusement. You grab his clean-shaven chin, tugging his face up so you can both meet in a ravenous kiss before you suck his tongue into your mouth as he fucks you.
You want to feel him everywhere.
You swallow your moan, biting your lower lip so harshly it drains the blood from it. Dave's free hand comes to cup your left breast, guiding it to his mouth so he can flick his tongue over your straining nipple. He hears your shudder and quickly takes it into his mouth and sucks harshly, sending a pleasured stripe to shoot through your body.
He can feel you milking his cock when he does that and he presses his face between your breasts, suppressing his moan there as his climax steadily builds.
He can smell sex and your perfume mixing in the air, making for a heady combination. And the sinful sight of your pussy gliding up and down his rigid cock is something he knows he's going to jerk off to for years to come. He still can’t believe you’re here perched on his lap, body shaking with the force of your mutual grinding, body bared to him.
"Fucking naughty girl," Dave grunts.
"Yes," you say, hips rolling lazily, your hands going to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over the stiffened peaks. Dave swallows an appreciative groan when you pinch each between your thumb and forefinger, squeezing gently. He sees the flush to your chest and neck and knows you're so close.
"Go on and come for me, college girl," he whispers, slapping your ass before gripping the meat of it in his palm. "Show me why I'm fucking you and not my wife."
Your motions are frantic and you're hands are back on his shoulders, using it for leverage as you begin to bounce on his lap, watching his head tilt back in pleasure.
"Bad girl," Dave gasps out, his large palms slamming you up and down on his cock, using you for his pleasure. "Fucking bad... Fucking me.... Such-such a slutty little babysitter... Fuck yourself on my cock."
"I will," you whisper down at him, your face damp. You tilt back slightly, watching his cock slick with your arousal as it begins to piston in and out of you, almost a blur in its speed.
Dave is similarly transfixed, holding your legs spread wide so he can see the sight of your sticky inner thighs and the way you've made such a mess at the base of his cock.
"Come now," he tells you in a silken purr. "Show me how good it feels."
Dave begins groaning when you start to bounce up and down in his lap in frenzy, the sound of his cock slamming up into your cunt slick and obscene.
"Yes sir," you chant barely above a whisper. "Yes sir, yes sir, yes siiiiiiiiiirrrrr."
Your back arches and he continues to hold your ass as your hips start to cant, your body tensing and then releasing as you come.
"Fuck I can feel that," Dave sighs, watching your pussy soak his cock as he feels your cunt fluttering around his throbbing cock. "So good for me, babygirl."
You shoot him a lazy smile, face flushed, hair disheveled and Dave feels his own release rapidly approaching.
"Keep bouncing," Dave instructs. "Gonna-"
But you're not bouncing. You're grinning devilishly down at him before sliding up his still throbbing cock. Dave feels the sweet velvet clench of your pussy being pulled from him and he swallows a whimper.
“What the fuck?” Dave asks in quiet shock, his hips still circling under you, desperate to prolong the friction. "You're not stopping, are you?"
"I am," you say hopping off his lap and pressing a chaste kiss to the end of his strong nose.
He sits there on the couch, cock hard and soaked in your slick. He watches you pull on your sweater before sliding your panties up under your skirt.
"I need to come," he tells you sternly.
"Sorry sir," you say with a smirk and a wink. "Mrs. York said you weren't supposed to work me too hard. See you next week."
#dave york x you#dave york fanfiction#fanfiction#pedro pascal#smut#fanfic#dave york x female reader#dave york smut#dave york x reader#dave york#pedro pascal fanfic#pedrostories
274 notes
·
View notes
Text
These Are My Ladies (Natasha Files) - The Moment
Pairing: Natasha x reader
Summary: The first time you realize that the Black Widow is your soulmate
Word Count: ~1.5K
A/N: Now I made These Are My Ladies awhile ago not thinking many people wanted more, but there was some interested. I am going to writing this series. If you have any ideas, let me know or if you have another
These Are My Ladies Natasha Files Wanda Files Carol Files Kate Files Yelena Files
Deadman’s P.O.V
After enduring a whirlwind of missions over the past month, finally, I found myself on a well-deserved break, returning to my New York apartment with hopes of relaxation. However, upon arrival, relaxation was the last thing I felt. Neglect had turned my once orderly space into chaos, with clothes strewn about and dishes piled high.
Though cleaning wasn't a chore I minded, I discovered I had exhausted my cleaning supplies. With a resigned sigh, I added a mental note to my list: a trip to the store was imminent. Before venturing out, a pang of hunger reminded me of my empty fridge.
"Great," I muttered, closing the fridge door empty-handed. Grabbing my keys, I headed out, deciding to make a day of it and treat myself to a visit to my favorite café. Nestled in a quiet corner, it was my sanctuary, known only to a few, offering not just excellent food but also solitude.
As I entered the café and placed my order, my mind drifted to the soothing distraction of a Sudoku puzzle. But my moment of peace was disrupted by a familiar figure outside—the Black Widow.
"Shit," I whispered to myself, snapping my book shut. Whether she had spotted me or not was unclear, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. The Avengers had never caught me, and I had no intention of allowing today to be the first.
Grabbing my food, I hastily exited the café, disappointed that my plans for relaxation had been thwarted once again. Determined to salvage what remained of my day, I made my way to a nearby park, seeking solace amidst the tranquility of nature.
Finding an empty bench, I settled down, exhaling a sigh of relief. With my food in hand and Sudoku book reopened, I lost myself in the challenge of the puzzles. Time slipped away, and before I knew it, I had devoured my meal and completed several Sudoku grids.
Glancing around the park, I spotted Black Widow in the distance, a coffee cup in hand. "Damn," I muttered, slipping away unnoticed, scanning for any other Avengers lurking nearby. Surprisingly, the coast seemed clear, prompting a sense of unease.
Nevertheless, I pressed on, knowing I had one final task ahead—the grocery store. After gathering my necessities and disposing of my trash, I made my way to the nearest store, pushing a cart as I ticked off items on my mental checklist.
Midway through my shopping, a strange sensation washed over me. Glancing around, my eyes met Black Widow's.
As we look eyes at each other, time seems to stand still, and the whole world around us fades away into a blur of insignificance. At this moment, it was as if the universe conspired this day to happen to bring us together, our souls are bound together to make an unbreakable bond.
At a single glance, there was a flow of an electric current surge between us, igniting a fire that burns deep within my heart and I know that she feels it too. This sensation is unlike any other feeling I ever felt. Just a second ago, she was one of my biggest enemies and now there is an unwavering certainty that she is my other half. There is a sense of belonging and understanding with us and we haven’t even said a word to each other yet.
Many people told me about how it felt to meet your soulmate, but this feeling is nothing how they describe it. It is even better. At this moment, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I just found my soulmate.
After what felt like an eternity, the world comes back into focus and we are back in the grocery store.
“Who put out a hit on me?” Black Widow says and drops her basket. Why would that be the first thing she says? Didn’t she feel the connection too?
“Don’t give me that look,” I guess I was making a funny face so I tried to go back to normal, “I have noticed you since this morning in the cafe. I have been trying to get away from you all day, but you are damn too good at your job” Natasha says and makes a face.
I smirked at her complimenting me on how good I was at my job even though I wasn’t working.
“I know that you know what is happening here” I say getting closer to her and she takes a few steps back, so I stop.
"No, this can't be happening! You can't be my soulmate! I don't deserve a soulmate," she murmured, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.
Her words struck me like a blow to the chest, the weight of her rejection crushing my spirit. Yet, even as my soul ached with the pain of her denial, I couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy. After all, hadn't I too grappled with feelings of unworthiness?
Summoning what remained of my resolve, I sought to reassure her. "I promise you, there's no hit out on you. If there were, you'd already be dead. They call me Deadman for a reason," I quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.
"You wish," she countered with a wry chuckle, the tension between us palpable as we stood in silence, each grappling with our own doubts and insecurities.
"Let me prove you wrong. Let me show you that I am the right soulmate for you, and that you do indeed deserve one," I implored, extending an invitation that hung precariously in the air.
After what felt like an eternity, she relented, her acceptance met with an internal cheer. "Perfect. I'll cook for you. What do you want for dinner?" I inquired eagerly, already envisioning the possibilities.
"I don't know; surprise me," she replied, and with the exchange of numbers, our tentative truce was sealed.
—
With only a few hours until Black Widow's arrival, I threw myself into a frenzy of preparation. Cleaning, cooking, and setting the table consumed my attention, each task executed with meticulous care.
Yet, amid the chaos, I sought to impart a touch of sentimentality, crafting a bouquet of paper roses as a token of my affection. It was a small gesture, perhaps, but one imbued with meaning—a symbol of my earnest desire to forge a connection with her.
As the appointed hour drew near, a knock at the door heralded her arrival. I took a moment to compose myself before opening the door, my breath catching at the sight of her.
"Come in, come in. I'm glad you came," I greeted her warmly, taking her jacket and ushering her into my humble abode.
"Wow, nice place. And it smells amazing in here. What did you make?" she remarked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"I made homemade chicken pasta with red sauce, Caesar salad, and cheesy garlic bread," I replied, hoping to impress her with my culinary skills.
"That sounds delicious," she murmured, a hint of appreciation evident in her tone.
Seating her at the table, I poured us each a glass of wine, savoring the moment as we embarked on this unexpected journey together. With each bite, I watched her closely, silently gauging her reaction to my cooking.
As we sat in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound in the room, I couldn't help but observe her every move. With bated breath, I awaited her reaction to the meal I had prepared with such care. And when I saw the subtle flicker of pleasure that crossed her features, I couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.
Halfway through the meal, our pace slowed, and our gazes locked in a moment of shared understanding. It was then that I felt compelled to break the silence, to address the elephant in the room—the improbable twist of fate that had brought us together as soulmates despite our tumultuous history as adversaries.
"Look, I know this is weird for both of us. After all, we've been enemies for so long," I began, my voice tentative yet determined. "But I want to make this work. I've always dreamed of finding my soulmate, and now that I've found you, I don't want to let this opportunity slip away."
I reached out to take her hand, a gesture of reassurance, only to have it swiftly withdrawn. The sting of rejection pierced my heart, a painful echo of the hurt I had felt earlier in the store.
Undeterred, I rose from my seat, retrieving the bouquet of paper roses I had crafted with such care. "I made these for you," I explained, offering her the delicate blooms. "I know they're not real, but they'll never wither or fade. They'll be a constant reminder of the connection we share, a symbol of the enduring love I have for you."
Taking a moment to steady my nerves, I continued, "I understand that this won't be easy, given our pasts. But I'm willing to put in the work, to prove that we're meant to be together."
As she accepted the flowers, a flicker of emotion crossed her features, and for the first time since our encounter began, I dared to hope that perhaps, against all odds, our love might blossom into something beautiful and enduring.
This is the moment where our relationship starts.
#marvel#marvel comics#marvel mcu#natasha romanoff#black widow#avengers#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romonova#natasha rostova#natasha rothwell#natalia romanova#natalie rushman#mcu
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 | n.romanoff
you visit the strip club downtown with your co-workers to let off some steam, but it seems like you've caught the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.
🖤 pairing: sub!stripper!natasha x fem!cop!reader
🖤 word count: 3145
🖤 note: SMUT (18+), this one been marinating in my drafts like im preserving wine
main m.list | AO3
You don’t know why you let your co-workers drag you to a strip club on a Friday night, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.
There are plenty of women, everywhere. Women in bikinis, women in stockings, women in thigh garters. You're in wonderland, honestly.
Hey, cops needed to let off some steam too, okay?
The cheers and hoots surround your table as Carol gets a lap dance by a brunette stripper. The blonde woman is blushing – you didn’t know she could do that – but she’s having the time of her life.
As Carol slides a bill between the stripper's tits with no lack of embarrassment, you laugh and get up to go get another drink.
It wasn't an overly rare occasion for you to be letting loose, but it was infrequent enough that your co-workers quite physically hauled you to this adult entertainment facility after a particularly taxing case.
ULTRAVIOLET was the most popular strip club in Queens, New York City. They served both men and women, with sparkling reviews about customer service and atmospheric aesthetics.
Carol, Valkyrie, and Maria would simply not shut up about the 'Black Widow', who was supposedly the sexiest, most stunning stripper any of them had ever laid their eyes on.
"She fuckin' looked at me in the eye," Valkyrie had moaned on a Monday morning, speaking of this stripper they so revered. "I can't look at anyone the same no more."
You were about to make a quick-witted retort about Valkyrie’s dramatization of mere eye contact, but Maria had only nodded solemnly in agreement and you had to admit you didn’t take Maria’s judgment lightly.
Aside from the talk about the Black Widow, you were hit with the novelty of the strip club once you stepped foot within.
As the Commanding Officer of the New York City Police Department, 104th Precinct, the boundless freeness of this place was quite a sight to behold. What with the heavy music, and the beer-tinged scent of the air, and nude women – the sensory overload did wonders to take your mind off work.
"You here alone?"
You spin on the barstool at the sound of a sultry voice. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping to the floor at the sight of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.
Scantily clad in matching sequined undergarments and fishnet stockings, stands a redheaded woman leaning against the bar counter, looking at you with magnificent green eyes.
"I'm not alone- I mean, not in that way, because I'm just here with friends. Well, co-workers, but they're my friends as well-"
Splendid job, Deputy Inspector Y/N L/N, you say internally. You can look in the eye of murderers and terrorists, but one look at a pretty woman and you're fuckin' gone.
"You're cute," the lady interrupts with a small tilt of her head, saving you from digging your own grave further.
You swallow harshly, feeling her manicured nails trace the curvature of your bicep.
"Just cute?" you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. Her fingers move down to the collar of your white shirt, fiddling with the fabric. Call it stupidity, but you feel the urge to reciprocate the contact. You move your hands to her hips.
The lady smirks. "Hm, maybe not just cute. But I think you need to show me."
The redhead hasn't broken eye-contact all the while. Your eyes feel like they're burning. You slide your left hand down to the hem of her panties, and tug slightly. When her panties snap against her skin, she jolts with the impact.
You smirk with victory, pulling her in by her waist so your mouth is pressed against her skin. "I'll show you," you murmur, kissing the warm with a fervour you didn't know you possessed.
The woman's breath hitches and she pulls your head closer. You accept the invitation, beginning to leave a hickey on the sensitive spot of her neck.
After a few moments of your concentrated work on her neck, the woman finally lets out a sigh-turned-moan of pleasure, and you nearly pass out from how sexy it is.
She tugs your head away and pulls you in by the collar for a kiss. Your eyelids flutter close.
Your quavering breaths meet in a frantic harmony, and you want to explore her mouth, but she ends it as quickly as it begins.
"What's your name?" the redhead asks, warm breath on your lips. "Y/N," you say hoarsely, trying and failing not to sound like you were left high and dry.
You slide your hands to the bare skin of her torso, silently delighting in the way it raises goosebumps. You need to get more of her, feel more of her. "Do I get to know your name?" you ask.
The lights in the strip club suddenly dim, and the music takes on a far more sensual tone.
The woman slides out of your grasp like sand falling through your fingertips, and you're left with the ghost of her burning embrace. Your question remains unanswered.
"Let's give it up for our next dancer," the bar owner says into his mic, and the noise dramatically fades away. "The Black Widow!"
Blue and violet lights dance in your vision as the woman who had kissed you just moments before, approaches the stage, hips swaying in time to the music.
Your eyes narrow, and you down the bourbon in one shot. You'd need it.
When the beat drops, The Black Widow throws her head back and she begins to move.
God, it's criminally sensual, the way she danced, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. You couldn't put into words the allure she possessed.
The redheaded woman runs a hand over her own skin, dipping into every curve, as the music crescendos, and you know you're not the only patron with their heart thrumming in their chest.
When she begins twirling on the pole, you see men clearing out a month's paycheck for this divine woman, and honestly? You don't blame them.
Money gets flung onto the stage and catcalls get yelled as perhaps the most erotic scene unfolds before your very eyes.
When The Black Widow lifts up a thigh to show off her tight stockings, you're unable to hold back any longer, drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame.
Sitting back down into your original seat, leaving the empty glass of bourbon behind, all else fades away. Your world stumbles on its axis as the woman makes her way over to you, running a hand through her luscious locks of hair.
Your mouth dries up as The Black Widow turns around in front of you and fully bends over, exposing the delicious curve of her ass. You sink back into your seat, bringing two fingers to your lips in silent contemplation. Internally, you're fighting the goddamned World War II with your libido.
She's still swaying in beat to the music, and spins around as the sound of a saxophone starts playing. The last thing you see is a playful wink from the gorgeous woman before an ample asset of tits covers your vision.
Fuck, you're not going to survive.
Your nose quite literally gets buried between her tits as the woman climbs onto you. You would pay to see your co-workers' faces right now. How would you ever face them at work again?
“Get it, Y/N!” you hear Maria call in the distance, and a shrill whistle follows.
You smirk against the pair of tits in your face, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and her sweat, and simlply her. You let the stripper work her magic.
After a few more minutes of your paradise, she pulls away, skin flushed.
You regard her with a darkened gaze, pulling out your wallet. You stuff a bill in the side of her thong, making sure to snap the fabric in the same spot as you had previously.
The woman's face flickers in recognition. She shakes her head, then dips her head down to whisper in your ear.
"11pm. Room 8. Private session. Don't be late."
Like it was planned, the music comes to an end. The redhead doesn't wait for your response before she gets off your lap, raising her arm in acknowledgement of the roaring cheers. Her hips sway as she walks away from you, and you don’t even pretend that your eyes are glued to her curves.
Money gets thrown onto the stage once again, all in hopes of earning a fraction of what you had just experienced.
"Holy shit, Y/N, what was that?" Carol yells at you over the noise, slapping your back. You shrug plainly with a stupid smug smirk as Valkyrie whines in jealousy.
Oh, you were so fucking ready for 11pm.
.
"A private, fuckin' session for Deputy Inspector Y/N fucking L/N. Who would'a thought," Carol slurs, banging a shot glass onto the round table.
You roll your eyes at Carol's dramatization. It wasn't as if your status as Commanding Officer steered women away from you – in fact, some of them were quite into it.
But for your prevalently horny friends who had women over just about every week, you were considered starved of sweet pussy and were in dire need of quenching that thirst.
So when you broke the news that the most sought-after stripper in the most famous strip club in Queens, had just offered you a private session, lo and behold the chaos that ensued.
"Shit, girl, I would get down on my knees for that lady. You are one lucky bastard," Valkyrie adds in, ruffling your hair as you grumble.
"You'd get down on your knees for any woman, actually," Maria says, the usually composed woman more laid back in the environment of the strip club. Or maybe it was the alcohol.
Valkyrie lets out an aggrieved noise, sitting up to whack Maria's arm, but in her drunken state she misses and slaps Carol's drink out of her hands.
"Oi!" The blonde cries out indignantly, looking at the drink that had splattered onto her clothing.
Carol grabs Maria's martini out of her hands and throws it at Valkyrie in retaliation.
Before you know it, your three idiot friends have gotten temporarily suspended from the strip club for 'causing a ruckus'.
Just like that, and the clock ticks down to eleven o’clock.
.
It’s 11pm, and you're overly aware of your police badge at your belt and your gun in your holster.
Or at least, you were, until Natasha swung one leg across your lap and sat herself down with an unspoken grace, effectively sitting on your lap. In the privacy of the enclosed room, you unashamedly stare down at her cleavage, eyes several hues darker than they were before.
“See something you like?” Natasha asks breathily, running her hands over her full breasts, pushing them up to elicit a reaction from you.
The moving lights in the dark room cast shadows, and when you back look up with a sinful smirk and half-lidded eyes, Natasha swears she feels herself get wet.
All the air in your lungs dissipates when Natasha begins grinding on your thigh in beat to the music, hips moving skilfully in the sexiest fashion imaginable.
Fuck, this woman was going to be your demise.
Your hands feel like they’re on fire as you watch her put on a show, simply aching to move and touch. Natasha trails her fingertips down your tensed arms, running over the curve of your biceps. She smirks at the goosebumps it raises, her hands dwelling to the edge of your pants.
Your breath catches as her fingers find the outline of your police badge tucked underneath your shirt. The Black Widow looks up at you, expression a no-tell. “You on duty?”
“Nope.”
“Is that why you’ve got a gun in your belt?”
“Nah, that one’s just for pretty girls like you,” you respond slowly, hands tentatively going to rest on her thighs. When the smirk reappears on the stripper's face, you relax and let your shoulders untense.
“If you say so, officer,” she comments huskily, leaning forward to nip at your earlobe. The shiver runs through your bones.
You’re about to counter with a quick retort of your own before Natasha begins grinding on that bulge in your pants, treating your gun like it was a strap.
“Shit,” you say breathlessly, hands burning at being unable to touch. Behind your back, your nails were digging into your palms so hard you swore you had already drawn blood.
Fuck, it was torture.
Her pretty moans and breathy whines ring in your ears as she moves her hips roughly, a torment to your demise.
After a while, you come to the realisation that you can feel how wet Natasha is through her undergarments, soaked from having just dry-humped your thigh.
“Fuck me,” she says, and your throat dries up. “What?” you ask, dazedly, still staring at her bouncing tits in front of your face.
“I said, fuck me,” Natasha repeats, head tilting to the side, halting all her movements so you would look at her.
You splutter. “But the sign said–”
“What can I say, officer, you wanna make me break the rules.”
That’s all the confirmation you need before your hands can finally touch her, finally, meeting and warm skin and sweat droplets and everything you’d ever wanted.
You let out a huff of amusement as Natasha wraps her pretty lips around your fingers and sucks, making lewd noises with her tongue. Your ears burn, now, having been tainted with the beautiful symphony of this woman’s pleasure.
“You’re very naughty,” you comment, your other hand slipping under her top to reach her full breasts. Palming at the mounds in your hand, you face moves to the bare skin of her collarbone and begin kissing it.
“Don’t make marks,” Natasha says breathlessly, when you let your teeth nick the soft skin there, and there’s a pit of desire in your stomach that growls in frustration, but you know you have to respect her wishes and instead move your mouth down to her chest.
Natasha doesn’t remember when you slipped off her bra, but she isn’t complaining about your haste and instead throws her head back when your mouth latches onto her breasts.
“Mhm, that feels good,” she moans, weaving her fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp. You hum in acknowledgement against her flushed skin, your tongue paying special attention to her hardened buds.
When both your hands move to the underside of her thighs and lift her up, Natasha lets out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden change of position. But as you lay her down on the sofa with your body weight pressing into hers, those whimpers turn into filthy moans.
You stall for a moment, hovering above her with your silver necklace dangling right above her face. She looks so pretty like this, her hair all splayed out, the sheen of sweat on her skin making her look tantalizing.
Natasha catches your swinging necklace between her teeth, winking seductively at you, and you’re snapped out of your moment, a laugh taking over.
“Have I told you that you’re incredibly bad?” you say, in between kisses scattered between her breasts, down her sternum and to her stomach.
“You- you have,” Natasha replies with some difficulty, as your kisses get lower and lower. “Maybe you should punish me for it, officer;”
She shuts up when you slowly spread open her thighs, revealing the dripping heat that is Natasha’s cunt. You maintain eye contact with her as you lower your mouth to her pussy, her lust-filled stare making your head spin.
When your tongue meets her cunt, it was game over.
“Fuck,” Natasha moans, already unable to continue looking at you in the eye, hands moving to grip the cushion of the sofa. Her thighs clamp around your head, and you’re suffocating, but in a way that feels so good you could die in bliss.
You lap at her dripping cunt like you were starving, like you would die without it. Natasha’s moans get louder. You move your mouth in rocking motions, pushing your tongue further in with each thrust.
“More,” she gasps out, and you quicken your pace, fingertips digging bruises into her plush thighs. In retrospect, you don’t remember how long you stay there, ravenously eating her out like your life depended on it.
When you feel her breathing get faster and more shallow, breathy little whines that get louder and louder, and you know she’s about to cum.
Instead of gently bringing her to a high, you internally say fuck it and decide that if this was the one chance you had, with the most sought-after stripper in Queens, you were going to make it an unforgettable one.
You move your mouth up to wrap your lips around her swollen, throbbing clit, and you suck on it, hard. In tandem with that, you easily slide two fingers in, curling them inside her to hit that sweet spot. Natasha positively screams, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Her orgasm floods the lower half of your face and your fingers, and the little mewls of your name Natasha lets out as she comes down from her high is one you’d always remember.
Finally, you emerge from between Natasha’s thighs. Slowly, you kiss up her stomach and her breasts, up the way you came down from, and you meet Natasha’s blissed out face.
You take a moment to take in her tousled hair, her swollen kissable-pink lips, her smudged makeup, her shallow gasps for air, and the pure lust in her eyes.
Just like that, and another jolt of arousal hits you. Before you can act on it, Natasha pulls you into a messy kiss, hot and sweaty.
“You look so fucking good-” Natasha says in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. “With my cum all over your jaw.”
You bite back a growl at her words, wanting to let her know just how exactly good you can make her cum. Natasha catches your hand that slides down to her wet cunt, before bringing it up and placing a kiss on your fingertips. “Our time is up,” she whispers, nodding to the clock behind you that now reads 11.31pm. “One private session lasts 30 minutes.”
This woman was going to be the death of you.
You turn back to The Black Widow with dilated pupils, slowly reaching into your pocket for that leather Saint Laurent wallet, and the ghost of a smirk on your lips.
In the wee hours of twilight the next day, you leave the strip club with your wallet emptied, a searing cramp in your hand, and the memory of an unforgettable woman whose real name you hadn’t even known.
Boy, you had one hell of a story to tell your friends.
i think i'm not gonna taglists anymore, sorry yall. there's just so many usernames and i have to constantly update it :(
main m.list | AO3
#natasha romanoff x reader smut#natasha romanoff smut#bottom natasha romanoff#sub natasha romanoff#top reader#dom reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha x reader#wlw smut#gxg smut#marvel#marvel women#x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Best Closers In The City
Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.
You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.
You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.
You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.
And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.
But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.
Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.
When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.
“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.
She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.
“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”
You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.
“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.
“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.
“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.
“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.
“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”
You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.
You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.
“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.
Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.
“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.
“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.
“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”
You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.
When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.
They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.
She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.
You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”
Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.
“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.
She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.
“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”
Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.
“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”
There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.
Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.
After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.
“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.
When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.
Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.
“It’s beautiful,” you comment.
“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.
You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.
“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.
“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.
“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”
“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.
“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”
“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.
“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”
“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”
“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.
You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.
“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”
You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.
“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.
Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.
“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”
Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.
“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”
“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.
“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.
“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”
“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”
You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.
“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”
“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.
When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.
“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.
You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.
Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.
“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.
“I do,” you say. “Can I?”
She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.
You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.
“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.
Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.
“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.
“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.
You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.
Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”
You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.
“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”
Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.
“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”
“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.
When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.
“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”
You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.
“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.
“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.
It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.
Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.
“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.
“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.
You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.
“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.
You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.
After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.
“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.
She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.
“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.
“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.
“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.
She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.
“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.
“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.
“I did.”
“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”
“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.
“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.
“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.
“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”
“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.
“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.
You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.
This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff smut#lawyer!natasha#natasha romanoff comfort#wanda maximoff#carol danvers#peter parker#kate bishop#beefy!nat
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Long Awaited Reward. {Dave York x F! Reader!}
Rating: Explicit.
Word Count: 15.8k
Warnings: Unhappy marriage, known infidelity, ?slightly forced hand, mention of car crash (no injuries), oral sex (m&f receiving), P in V sex, loss of virginity, fingering, cock warming, some feelings, derogatory language, aftercare.
Comments: Dave has been cleaning up after his wife for too long, and you tempt him with a proposition that he can’t resist.
Co-written with @absurdthirst ❤️
Gif by me: @pedropascalsx!
Carol York is perfect. She has the perfect family, the perfect house, the perfect car and her most prized possession; her perfect husband.
Everything about Carol York is perfect… or so it seems.
The truth is Carol York has her demons, skeletons that are piled up in her closet, haunting the rows of designer shoes and racks of glamorous gowns that seldom get to see the light of day.
But to anyone you may ask, they would likely describe Carol York as a perfectionist, kind, generous, charitable and all around the perfect housewife; but you knew otherwise.
You spotted her the moment she waltz into the hotel bar, clutching her designer purse in one hand and her phone in the other. She was with her usual group of friends, all equally as loud and pretentious.
Sitting quietly in the corner and picking at the rest of the food on your plate you rolled your eyes as her group of friends laughed so loudly it made the glassware shake, really you had no real reason to dislike her but you couldn’t help it. The whole stepford wives persona that they all exude simply leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
You think back to the first time you had met her about ten years ago, still in your teens and still in high school, she had loudly made a comment about how boys never notice the plain, boring ones while looking you up and down. Everyone had laughed along with her, even your mom, who then spent the next few weeks trying to talk you into buying a new wardrobe but you weren’t interested.
You left the bar before she did that night, sneaking out without her noticing you and pulling into your driveway about five minutes before you heard her speeding around the corner. Her brand new Mercedes squealing as she drove straight into Mr. Perkins’ Chevy. You opened your door to check on her but before you could step out, you saw Dave running towards her. She stumbled out of the car giggling as she admired the damage she caused, clearly enjoying the look of annoyance on her husband's face.
You couldn’t make out their conversation but you could tell he was furious, shaking his head as he pulled out his phone and made a brief phone call. Slowly, you started to close the door, not wanting them to see that you had witnessed everything and once the door was gently pushed shut you made your way to bed.
You woke up the next morning to a commotion outside your bedroom window, neighbours all lining up to get a look at the damage that had been caused by the selfish driver that had left no note and that’s when you saw her... Standing next to Mr Perkins shaking her head and pretending to be just as outraged as he was.
Over the next few days you had considered sending an anonymous note, or anonymously contacting the police but ultimately decided to keep quiet, despite the guilt that kept you from sleeping at night. It wasn’t your business and you weren’t about to go to war with the Yorks.
Carol could make your life hell. But Dave… Dave seemed like he’d be capable of so much more.
*
Dave growls as he rewatches the tape from a few days earlier, making sure that he hadn’t missed anything from that night. One of their neighbours had caught the whole thing on their RING doorbell camera but thankfully Dave was able to have Resnick hack into their accounts and delete all the footage and make it look like the camera had unfortunately stopped working a few hours before the accident.
It was only as he was about to delete the last trace of evidence from that evening he noticed it. Your door barely in the frame, opening a few inches and closing just as he got off the phone to Ari - who had managed to get the exact model Mercedes Carol owned and replace it with the damaged one before daylight began to fall across the neighbourhood.
“Shit.” He hisses as he slams his hand against his desk. Your parents were out of town on their cruise, so he knew that the person who witnessed his wifes reckless behaviour had to have been you. He ponders for a second why you hadn’t said anything yet and wonders if it’s worth just letting things sit… but decides that paying you a visit is the best course of action.
He slides his phone into his pocket and makes his way downstairs to his wife and kids… hating the way her face is buried into her phone as the girls watched Tangled for the 10,000th time this month.
“We need to talk, honey,” he says with a smile, as not to concern the girls. “Now.”
“Sure,” she says with a roll of her eyes, before following him into her ‘crafts’ room.
The second she waltzes in the room, he closes the door and swings around to face her with a look of fury on his face, “You had a fucking witness,” he scowls, “And she saw the whole fucking thing.”
“What?” Carol says in utter disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
With venom dripping from every word he tells her everything that he could make out from the video. How it was clear that you saw everything and how they had to pay you a visit and make sure that you keep your pretty little mouth shut and not ruin their comfortable little life in the unsuspecting suburbs.
*
The doorbell makes you jump, not expecting anyone and planning on having a quiet night in front of the TV with leftover chinese food and netflix, you groan as you pull yourself up and off your sofa.
“Evening,” a raspy voice growls at you, as the door swings open, “I think we need to have a little chat.”
Dave pushes past you and Carol enters right behind him as you step back in shock. Every single thing about Dave York is entirely intoxicating, his scent, his voice and the fact he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on doesn’t help either. Even in the comfort of your own house, you’re being commanded by him and following him into your kitchen.
“Can I get you both a drink?” You ask after a few uncomfortable minutes, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your hands shake.
“No. Enough drinking.” Dave cuts his eyes towards Carol, annoyed that he’s in this position. If it weren’t for the fact that the bitch knows what he does, would threaten to tell everyone, he wouldn’t bother fixing this mess she got herself into. “Sit down.” He orders, kicking the chair opposite him out from under the table.
“Yes, sir,” you say with a gulp, unsure why you addressed him with such authority. “How can I help you?” You ask meekly.
“Have fun the other night?” Dave’s eyes are flat, emotionless as he leans in to stare into your own. Using the intimidation that comes so easily to him.
“Wha-what do you mean?” You stutter, your body almost frozen in fear as you look over at him.
“Going out.” He doesn’t expand on that, wanting you to spill what you know without him giving you anything more.
“I went out for a meal with a few friends from my book club on Tuesday at The Charlton Hotel.” You say quietly, managing to rip your eyes from his for a few seconds before he’s commanding them back with a sharp tut.
“And?” He demands harshly. “What else happened?”
“I think you know.” Is all you say, your voice small and barely higher than a whisper. You glance over at Carol who has a smug look plastered on her face as she watches her husband clean up her mess yet again.
“Say it.” He growls, slapping his hand down on the table, making you jump. He hates this, hates having to fucking clean up yet another one of her messes, but he has his girls to think about.
“I heard Carol drive into Rodney’s car, and saw you start to hide the evidence.” Tears start to stream down your face, as you realize just how much danger you may be in.
Good. Now that you’ve admitted what you’ve seen, he can make sure you keep it quiet. Dave reaches out and captures your jaw in his hand. Leaning in threateningly, he grunts. “But you aren’t going to say anything, are you?”
The yelp you make as his hand harshly squeezes your jaw makes Carol squeal with laughter, but you block it out, concentrating on forcing out a small ‘no, sir’ as your tears begin to fall even harder, and your sobs grow louder.
He watches you for a moment. Not particularly enjoying the tears or the distress in your eyes, but he can’t risk his wife being arrested. “Good.” His tone softens slightly and his thumb brushes the bone of your jaw slightly. “Always knew you were smart.”
You nod your head to acknowledge that he just spoke to you, his fingertips are still gently brushing against your jaw as you stare into his eyes. “I promise I won’t say a thing.”
“You promise huh?” Dave snorts, admiring how innocent you are. “I think I’m gonna need a little more reassurance than that.”
“I’ll sign an NDA,” you stutter, “I’ll do anything.” Carol's cruel laughter makes you shudder, but it just makes Dave rub your chin a little harder.
“No, I don’t think that will work.” He doesn’t know how he should keep you quiet, just that you need to stay that way. “Maybe I should just make the problem go away.” He threatens.
You start to shake your head and pull away, the fear evident in your eyes, “No… no… what does that even mean?”
“What do you think that it means?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.
“Getting rid of me,” you say almost silently, the tone of your voice softer than a whisper.
“I don’t want to do that.” He admits. “So what is going to keep your pretty little mouth shut for the rest of your life?”
“I’ll sign whatever you want,” you say again, not really sure what he means.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I need something on you. Something you don’t want to get out.” He decides, smirking slightly.
“Like what?” You say, with a look of confusion plastered on your face.
“I’ll take pictures of you.” He decides, figuring you are - if not a virgin, close to it. You would be mortified if naked pictures of you were released to your family. “And if you breathe a word, I send them to every family member you have.”
“What?” Carol scoffs out from behind him. “I’ll take them. You are not seeing her naked.”
You remain silent as you listen to them go back and forth, unsure what to say, wanting to refuse but fear keeping your lips firmly closed.
“I told you I would handle this.” Dave hisses. “So shut up while I handle it.”
“Handle it then,” she growls back at him, “But I will handle taking any photos.” She stares at you with a look of disgust on her face as she shakes her head. “Plus I doubt she’s ever had a man as attractive as you see her naked before and I don’t want the desperate little slut trying to tempt you.”
“She’s a virgin.” Dave grunts, even though he doesn’t know that for certain. “Only slut in this room is you.”
“I-I don’t think that’s necessary,” you start to say, voice trembling as you try to find some confidence, they’re right but you don’t want to admit it to them, “I won’t say anything and let’s be honest… even if I did no one would believe me.”
“Aw bless her,” Carol mocks looking over at Dave, “Don’t worry honey, we know someone like you couldn’t handle someone like my Dave. And he’s not available anyway.”
Dave shakes his head, holding his hand up to silence his wife. “Then tell me what will keep you quiet.” He demands, his dark eyes on you.
You look over at Carol and see the cruel smirk on her face and the words just fall from your mouth and float heavily in the air.
“You. I want one night with you.”
“Absolutely not,” Carol bellows at you from across the table, “How dare you!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dave snaps, whipping his head around and glaring at Carol until she sits back. While she’s smug towards you, she’s also just slightly afraid of him. When he’s satisfied that she will be quiet, he turns back towards you. “What did you say?”
You concentrate on him, refusing to look back over at her despite her yelling. “I want a night with you.” You squirm in your seat under his stare, the expression on his face neutral as he watches you.
“A night for what?” He demands, wanting to hear you say it out loud. Carol huffs and grumbles under her breath beside him but he ignores her as he watches you.
“I want you to fuck me,” you say as quietly as you can. Your fingernails digging into your thighs to stop yourself shivering with anxiety.
“She wouldn’t know what to do with you,” Carol taunts cruelly. Furious at what she’s hearing.
“Neither did you.” Dave snorts, looking over at his wife and giving you a moment since you look like you are about to pass out. The idea has merit and his cock twitches when he thinks about ruining you.
“Maybe before we do anything you can take that picture,” you say, unable to meet his eyes.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Before, during, and after I’m done with you.” He corrects.
“You’re speaking like you’re going along with this madness,” Carol spits at Dave.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Dave asks, smirking slightly. “How many people have you fucked over the last eight years?”
You watch as she incoherently mutters something in response under her breath. Still squirming in your seat as you think about Dave’s hands roaming over your body.
“You thought I didn’t know?” Dave scoffs, chuckling under his breath. “Sweetheart, I know exactly how many dicks you’ve taken, how many times you’ve taken them. Why shouldn’t I wreck our pretty little neighbor to save your skin?”
“So is this happening?” Your timid voice asks, as they take a break from going at each other's throats.
“No,” Carol screeches back, “Dave is going to pull out his checkbook and write you a pretty little cheque and you’re going to keep your mouth quiet or I'm going to inform every woman in this neighbourhood what a nasty little whore you are.”
“No you won’t.” Dave growls at Carol. “You can have all the dick you want but I cant fuck her?” He snorts. “Go wait at the house.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She growls at him, before looking you up and down one more time. “You really think you can handle a night with him, sweetheart? He’ll be bored senseless within the first ten minutes.”
“We’ll see,” you say quietly, “Maybe I'll surprise us both.”
“Go to the fucking house, Carol.” Dave hisses. “Or shut your fucking mouth. You’re the reason this is even fucking happening.” He’ll blame her, making sure she won’t try to blame you. “If you hadn’t fucked up, she wouldn’t be in a position to ask for sex.”
Your eyes remain focusing on him as she spews some colourful language in your direction before storming out the kitchen and out of the house.
“Now.” Dark, amused eyes turn towards you. He has to admire the gumption of your demand. “What makes you think that fucking me will keep that mouth of yours shut?” He asks. “Just having my cock in it?”
“You can take the photos,” you say, with a shrug, “I know the hell she’d cause for me and my family if I was to ever say a single word.”
“Why do you want me to fuck you?” He asks seriously. Wanting to know your reasoning behind this.
“She’s getting what she wants, my silence. Figured I’d ask for something that I’ve always wanted… You.” With a shaky breath, you reach your arm out to touch him, “Everyone wants you. You can’t pretend that women don’t throw themselves at you.”
“Everyone doesn’t want me.” Dave shakes his head. Some women might be attracted to him, but he also scares some off. “But if you want me, I have to ask what’s wrong with you?” He smirks.
“Read too many filthy stories,” you say with a giggle, “I don’t know. Lonely I guess.”
“I’m not the easiest to take.” He warns you. “And I like to fuck hard.”
A gasp escapes you at the way he’s speaking to you, but you can’t ignore the way your body reacts to him. “One night. I’m yours to do as you please with.”
Sitting back, he rocks his jaw as he contemplates it. “Are you on birth control?” He demands.
“No,” you admit, “But I can show you that I’m clean. I’ve nev- I can get Plan B and you can watch me take it… That’s if you don’t want to use a condom.”
“I’m not going to use a condom.” Dave decides. “And I’m going to fill two out of your three holes with my cum.” He smirks. “I’ll let you guess which two.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, clearly nervous but excited too. “When? Do I need to do anything to prepare?”
He snorts and reminds himself that you are innocent. “Show up when I call you.” He tells you, standing up and towering over you. “And forget what you saw Tuesday.”
“Yes, sir,” you say, standing up and studying his face for a few seconds. “I saw nothing.”
“Good girl.” He turns around and starts striding to the door, aware that his wife would be spoiling for a fight and he wants to get it over with before the girls come home from their Nana’s house. “I’ll be seeing you.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” you say softly, watching as he leaves.
It’s a quick walk back to his house, sighing heavily before he opens the door and steps inside.
You immediately throw yourself back down onto the sofa and question whether any of that really happened and you really asked to have sex with Dave York.
*
“Are you fucking serious?” Carol screeches as she watches Dave stride into the kitchen. “Are you actually considering fucking that little whore?”
Dave pins her with a hot glare. “What do you suggest, Carol?” He hisses. “I’ve got to clean up your mess, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean you get to make a mess with her,” she yells. “You’re not doing it, you can keep up the pretense and then force her to sign an NDA.”
“I’m done with your shit.” He huffs, striding over and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking bitch, and this is your fucking mess!”
“Temper temper, Dave, we both know who’ll end up with the girls if this goes sour.” She says with a smirk, before stepping back and walking towards the cupboard with the wine glasses. “If you fuck her, i’ll take you for everything you’ve got.”
“I’ve got evidence, Carol.” Dave warns you. “Photos, texts, recorded conversations of you cheating.”
“Bullshit,” she says with a cruel laugh, before skulking upstairs with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm.
Dave growls, slapping a coffee mug to the side and wondering what the fuck is going on. Unable to believe that things have gotten so twisted.
*
A few days have passed since you saw Dave and Carol at your house and you’ve heard nothing. You figure that he changed his mind, and have decided to put the whole thing behind you and move on with the hopes that Carol doesn’t attempt to take revenge over your suggestion.
Laying down in front of the TV the sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table makes you jump.
‘Tomorrow night’ He sends you a text. ‘’Come over at 8. I’ll be taking you to a hotel.’
‘Is there anything I need to bring’’ You type back immediately, excitement swirling around in your tummy.
‘Your cunt.’ Dave snorts to himself as he hits send.
‘I’ll double check I’ve got it before I leave.’ You send back with a giggle. You decide that you’ll get up early and pop to the mall and buy something special for the occasion.
Dave hums at your smart ass reply, ignoring the way Carol huffs and puffs across from him. She’s pissed but she can just stay mad for all he cares.
You settle on an early night and sleep comes easily to you. You should feel guilty, but you don’t. It’s one night in exchange for keeping a secret for the rest of your life.
*
Between his wife’s cold shoulder last night and her quiet sullen expression this morning, Dave has had time to muse over what he will do. To contemplate it, rejecting several thoughts, he decides that he will just decide in the moment based of how you respond to him. He’s not a monster, he isn’t going to do things you don’t like, but you chose him. Your silence is worth getting some satisfaction.
The morning flies by and after a very expensive trip to the mall you find yourself clock watching, fighting the nerves and anxiety that are bubbling in your tummy. Wondering if you’re really going to go through with this.
Dave watches as you come and go from your house, working from home and he wonders where you’ve gone. He knows he could quickly find out, but half the fun is the wondering.
After a long soak in the bath and dressing in the new white lingerie you picked up that morning, you pull on your sundress and pack a few things for the hotel. Not convinced you’ll be sleeping but you pack some pajamas anyway, before slowly making your way to the York residence just before 8.
“I can’t believe you are going to do this.” Carol hisses as Dave picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
“Feel free to call the police department and confess to a hit and run while drinking.” Dave snorts, opening the door and looking back at his wife.
You see him at his door, and you shiver with anticipation. You pick up your pace a little until you’re waiting patiently next to his car.
“Get in.” He tells you as he unlocks the door.
“Yes sir,” you say with a shy smile, before climbing in.
Dave hums, taking his bag into the back seat before he climbs behind the wheel.
“So, how are you?” You ask after a few minutes of driving in silence. Clearly nervous and wondering if he can tell.
“Surprised that you are here.” Dave tells you. “Honestly.”
A small giggle slips through your lips and you see his brow raise in response and you’re almost certain his lips began to curl upwards before falling back into their natural state of neutrality. “I’m not… I thought you weren’t ever going to text me though.”
“Why is that?” He looks at you at the stop sign at the end of the road.
“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug, “I guess I figured you already knew I have no intentions of saying anything.”
“I figured that out the second your chin trembled in my hand.” Dave chuckles and sends you a small smirk before he turns to the right and starts driving towards the hotel he had booked.
“Mhmm,” you say, before nervously biting on your bottom lip. “You definitely had me in the palm of your hand.”
“Gotta say I’m surprised you came out and just said that you wanted me to fuck you to keep silent.” He snorts. “Thought Carol was going to stroke out.”
“Yeah, I still can’t believe I said it either.” You admit. “I can’t believe she didn’t punch me.”
“Fuck her.” He rolls his eyes. “She deserves it for being a fucking cunt who acts like she’s got a get out of jail free card for everything.”
“Well then I guess it’s time you got a reward for being such an attentive husband.” You reach over and gently squeeze his knee before letting your hand fall back into your lap.
“Are you a virgin?” Dave asks, wanting to know if it was true. He had said you were, but he didn’t know for sure.
“Is it a problem for you if I am?” You ask quietly. A little nervous about his answer, but figuring that he already knows anyway.
“No.” Dave shakes his head and his cock is throbbing at the thought. “I will just not ram my cock into you. I don’t want you to hate fucking.” He snorts.
“I won’t mind,” you say with another giggle, “I should admit that I’ve thought about it… Thought about you.”
“What have you thought about?” He asks, wanting to know how deep this little crush goes.
You moan as his hand grips onto your thigh, “Dirty thoughts. There was this story I read where the Dad sold his daughter to a crime boss to pay off his debts…”
“Yeah?” He chuckles.” Was I the crime boss? Taking the innocent girl and ruining her?”
“Yes.” Your hand comes down on top of his and gently moves it higher. “Took her virginity and became addicted to her pussy.”
“Hmmmm and you think I’ll become addicted to yours?” He muses.
“Maybe.” You inch his hand up just enough that his fingertips can brush the lace material of your bright white panties, wondering how he’ll react to the wet patch in the center.
“It would have to be pretty good.” He warns you. “Besides, why would you want a man who will cheat on his wife?”
“I don’t think you would do it if she hadn’t pushed you this far,” you say with a shrug, gently letting go of his hand.
“That upset you.” He doesn’t ask, says it as a fact as he turns into the hotel parking lot. He didn’t choose a seedy motel, the nice, modern chain hotel will provide little luxuries and complete privacy.
You don’t say anything, you simply offer a small smile before appreciating the fact he’d clearly put thought into where you were going. “I’m not a silly little girl,” you say as he pulls into a spot, “I don’t expect you to fall in love with me or for anything to come from this, Dave. I know this just for one night.”
“And yet, you’re wearing sexy lingerie.” His hand slides back between your thighs to press against your wet clit.
“I thought you’d like it,” you admit, before moaning his name softly.
“What color is it?” He asks before he chuckles. “White. Right?”
You nod your head, feeling slightly embarrassed at how predictable you are. His demeanour is slightly sharper than before, and you can’t help but ask, “Do you not want to do this?”
“I am trying to figure out if you really want to do this.” Dave tells you seriously.
“I do.”
“Good.” He growls and pulls his hand away. “If you regret it, there’s not a fucking thing I can do after I’m buried deep in your little pussy.”
“I won’t regret it,” you say softly, before cupping his face, “I promise.” In that moment you can’t help but wonder when the last time someone was gentle with him, his body seems to immediately stiffen as your fingertips rub gentle circles into his cheeks.
Dave nods, trying not to pull away from your fingers but they feel too good against his skin. Foreign to a man who spends so much time in darkness.
“Shall we go in?” You ask with a genuine smile, “We don’t have to rush into anything.”
“I’ve already checked in.” He tells you, holding up his phone. “Digital key.”
“Perfect.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your overnight bag and step out the car, waiting for Dave to lead the way.
You are an eager thing, he has to give you that. He claims his own bag and walks around the car, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the doors.
You love the way his hand feels on you, and wonder how he's planning on taking things tonight. "I think tonight is going to be a good night," you say with a smile as he leads you to the elevators.
"Have you eaten, or were you too nervous?" He asks once you are in the elevator and the doors are closed. The button for the eighth floor is pressed and he looks over at where you are standing close to him.
"I had lunch but nothing else," you tell him, resisting the urge to thread your fingers with his.
"Do you want to eat after?" He won't feed you before. Shooting you a grin, he shrugs. "If you eat now, you might throw up."
"Sounds good," you say with a smile. "I'm never one to turn down food."
"We'll order room service." He decides.
"Perfect." The elevator arrives on your floor and he gestures for you to step out first and you wait patiently for him to lead you to your room.
Dave pulls out his phone, opening the app and walking towards the room so he can open it with the digital key.
You step into the room and admire how nice it is, the king bed in the centre of the room looks nice and inviting. He stands in the doorway and watches you as you look around, "How do you want to do this?" You ask as you spin on your heel to talk to him.
He has to admire how eager you seem to be. Smirking slightly, he lets the door clothes and then flips the lock behind him. "You tell me, sweetheart." He chuckles. "This was your demand. How do you want my cock."
"However you're willing to give it to me," you say, watching as he slowly walks towards you.
"I think I want you to strip for me." He tells you as he brushes past you to sit down in a chair that he pulls next to the bed. Arching a brow at you when he settles down.
"Yes, sir," you say, before unbuttoning your jacket and placing it on the bed. "I've never done this before." You take a few small steps until you're in front of his chair and wait for him to tell you to start.
"Take your time." He tells you. "Do it slowly."
You nod and flash him a small smile before slowly reaching behind to unzip your sundress. Letting the straps slowly fall off your shoulders as the billowy material starts to fall down your body, revealing the brand new lingerie set you had bought earlier that day.
"So innocent." He murmurs, taking in the white lace and yet there is something so dirty about you. You pushed for this, knowing he's married. You want him, however you can have him. "Hmmmm stay just like that." He tells you as he reaches for his belt.
"I got this just for you," you tell him, as your fingertips trail against the soft material. "Do you like it?"
"It's pretty." He coos, smirking as your fingers trail over your body. Something you've obviously done a time or two because you aren't shy about it. "Why don't you come open my pants for me, Princess."
"Yes sir." Walking towards him, you bite your lip in anticipation, and slowly sink down onto your knees in front of him. Your fingers hover for a few seconds before finding the button and popping it open.
Dave watches you, under hooded eyes as you bite and lick your bottom lip. Your fingers fumbling slightly as you drag his zipper down. "Take your time."
You nod your head and wait for him to lift his hips, so you drag down his pants. "What do you want me to do first?"
"What do you want to do?" He asks. "I want you to suck my cock."
"I can do that," you say, as you pull down his pants and boxers in one clean sweep. The sweetest oooooh he's ever heard comes out of you as you see his cock for the first time. Thick, long, rock hard with the tip weeping.
Dave watches you, enjoying the way your eyes widen and you unconsciously lick your lips. Innocent. At least you are innocent enough to fake it. He covers your hand with his and slowly starts to move your hand along his shaft.
"It's so thick," you say, as he helps you increase the pace, "Is it going to fit?"
"It's gonna fit. It'll be a tight little squeeze around my cock." He grunts, twitching in your hand.
"Yeah?" You ask before squeezing him a little tighter, and loving the groan he gifts you in response. "My little pussy is going to fit around this gorgeous cock like a glove."
You might be a virgin, but you've obviously touched a cock before. He grunts, wondering what little boy you touched and how quickly he came. "You are going to scream before you leave this suite."
"Yes, but only your name," you say with a little giggle. "Tell me how good your cock feels in my hand, sir."
"Sir?" His brow arches up and he chuckles. "Do you have a little bit of an authority kink?" He asks, figuring that you would be attracted to him if that was the case. He's been told he has a commanding presence.
"I don't know," you admit with a shrug, still stroking his cock. "I guess I just like the idea of you in charge."
"Open your mouth." He reaches out and grasps your chin. "Taste my cock."
Your mouth falls open immediately, tongue dipping out to lip the head. You've never sucked cock before but you've watched a lot of videos and read a lot of smut, so you remember not to take too much at once and to swallow around him.
"G-good." He grunts as your tongue flutters over the tip and your lips wrap around him. "How do I taste?"
You pull off him with a loud pop, "First cock I've ever sucked, and I already know that no other will compare… Delicious."
He grunts, and his cock twitches in your hand. "Good. Suck it some more." He orders roughly.
You take the base of him in your hand again and wrap your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks before bobbing up and down slowly, feeling your arousal drip down your thighs as he groans in pleasure.
Dave lets you work at your own pace, slowly exploring him and getting comfortable with his size. You are probably soaking through your panties as you kneel in front of him. "Do you like that? Sucking my cock."
Not wanting to stop, you simply look up at him through your lashes and nod. You take him a little deeper and moan at the stretch, eyes filling with water as fat tears threaten to stain your cheeks.
He can't take his eyes off of you, eyes watering and about to spill down. He wants to see it. He rocks his hips up and pushes his cock deeper into your mouth and grunting when you gag.
You splutter around him, tears now streaming down your face as he grunts something filthy at you. It's overwhelming but you want more, the need to be at his mercy growing stronger as your panties get wetter.
"Slide back." Dave orders with a growl, suddenly wanting to be on his feet over you. "Now."
You obey his command immediately, letting him fall out of your mouth before sliding back and waiting patiently for your next order.
"Open your mouth, stick out your tongue." He stands, his pants shuffling as he moves forward, stroking his cock that is covered with your saliva. "I'm gonna fuck your throat, pretty girl."
You swallow hard at his words and the filthy smirk that spreads across his face tells you that he heard it. You place your hands in your lap and open your mouth, making eye contact as you stick out your tongue.
He smirks at how quickly you follow his order. How eagerly you obey him. "Good girl." He grunts, slapping his cock onto your tongue and then rocking his hips forward to thrust into your mouth.
One of your hands comes up and rests gently on his thigh as he starts to fuck into your mouth, you focus on hollowing you cheeks and swallowing around him. You gag around him as he starts to pick up his pace and you think he likes this, you think he likes seeing your innocent face overwhelmed by his thick cock.
Dave works up a quick pace, moving his hand to the back of your head and pressing you harder onto his cock. Starting to really fuck your mouth to see how much you will drool and choke on him.
The noises you make are filthy, your fingernails dig into his thighs as you gasp for breath, after a few moments you push your head back and pull off him with a loud gasp. Still connected to him with a line of saliva.
"Good girl." He pulls his hips back and he leans down, opening his own mouth and spitting, wanting you to swallow his spit.
"Delicious." You rise up so you're standing toe to toe with him, and you decide to make a move. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.
"Why do I like every other man is just going to be a disappointment when compared to you?"
"Because they are." He chuckles, sliding his hands down and squeezing your ass. "Now, stretch out on the bed and watch while I get more comfortable."
"Yes sir." Climbing onto the bed, you make yourself comfortable. Letting your fingertips trail down your body as you watch him.
Dave isn't wearing a button down shirt, so he doesn't get to show you how slowly he can undress. But he is making you wait as he slides his shirt up over his head.
"You're so sexy," you whisper, as he starts to shred his clothing.
He chuckles, flattered by your praise because he knows he's not in as good of shape as he used to be. No need when you aren't in the military anymore. He kicks off his shoes and strips off the pants that are already around his ankles.
"What do you want to do to me first?" You ask, as you push yourself up onto your elbows and admire the view.
"Undo your top." He grunts as he starts moving towards the bed. "Want to see your tits."
You reach around and undo your bra, letting the straps fall off your shoulders before pulling it off.
"Fuck." He hisses, imagining biting and sucking on the sweet little nipples you've exposed. "I'll enjoy cumming on them." He tells you. "Turn over, your ass up in the air and your face down on the bed."
You do as he commands, ignoring the way your cheeks burn a little. Waiting patiently to see what he's going to do next.
Kneeling on the bed behind you, he reaches out to caress your ass, enjoying the sight of your panties stretched over your ass. Swatting your cheek, one then the other sharply with his palm. "Fucking dirty."
"You going to keep these panties?" You ask as you lift your face off the pillow. "Something special for you to remember this night."
"Might." He hums. "Might just tie you up with them." He threatens lightly, knowing that he won't.
"You can do anything you want." You say as he softly massages your ass. "Are you taking me like this first?"
"No." He's not going to take you like this. His fingers curl under the waist of your panties and he starts to drag them down.
"Ohhh," you moan as he exposes your dripping wet core. "Dave."
"Nothing to moan about yet." He huffs, lowering himself down to eye level with your cunt. "Yet." Lunging forward, he spreads your cheeks and dives into your cunt from behind.
"Ohhh fuck," you yelp, his tongue beginning the most delicious assault on your cunt. "Don't stop."
He grunts, not bothering to pull away to tell you he has no intention of stopping. Making sure his tongue curls filthily. Licking you from clit to puckered hole.
"Daaaave," you scream, as he starts lapping against your clit, your thighs begin to shake as he pushes you towards paradise.
He actually enjoys eating pussy. Never minding it when his wife wanted until it began to be a one sided thing where she would make excuse after excuse not to suck his dick. So he had stopped doing it. Now, he is ravenous, licking through your folds and greedy to hear your moans.
"How do I taste?" you ask, mimicking his own questions from moments before.
He grunts, flicking his tongue against your clit and slapping your thigh. Enjoying your cheekiness as he works his jaw, wanting you to scream.
"Tell me," you beg, as he starts sucking your clit, pulling you closer and closer to that edge.
"Like Christmas." He grunts, pulling his lips away for a moment before he slides his tongue back up to your quivering entrance to tongue fuck you.
The noise that you make is indescribable, filthy yet so innocent as he starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you. Your finger finds your throbbing clit and you start to rub slow circles into it as he takes you apart with his tongue.
Dave's hand smacks yours, pulling it away. You aren't going to cum from anything you do to your body if you are in bed with him. You wanted him, you're going to get him.
You yelp as he slaps away your hand and he growls into your core. "Dave, please," you beg, over and over, not sure what you're pleading for but needing more.
Instead of chastising you, he gives you what you need. Sliding his tongue out of your dripping, quivering cunt, he moves back down to your clit and pushes two thick fingers inside you to replace his tongue.
The stretch from his fingers makes you sink your teeth into your lip, his are so much thicker than yours and it's almost too much. His tongue laps at you like he's a starved man, and it isn't long before your arms are threatening to give way and your thighs are shaking from the pleasure ripping its way through your body, and you're unable to speak even a single word as pleasure overwhelms you.
Dave hums against your clit, providing that slight vibration against your bundle of nerves as he sucks again. Not able to see your face, he's feeling and hearing your reaction and it's something beautiful and satisfying.
"I think I'm gonn-oohhh," you gasp before cumming hard on his tongue and around his fingers. Squeezing them so tightly it swear you hear him groan. "Fuck."
He isn't greedy right now. He doesn't pull his fingers back and immediately move. Working you through it with slow pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.
"All other men are officially ruined," you breathe out with a giggle, coming down from your high and loving the unexpected soft attention from him as you do so.
He chuckles as he pulls away, straightening and curling his fingers slightly before he pulls them out of your cunt and dragging you up off the bed to offer them to you to taste.
You wonder if he heard you wince as he removed his fingers, not used to the thickness of him. A smile spreads across your face before you take his fingers in your mouth, sucking gently before pulling off with a pop. "I read a story once, where she tasted them mixed together... Can we try that later?"
He hums, smirking slightly as his other hand cups your breast. "You are a curious little slut." He teases, not meaning it negatively. He likes that you are curious. That you want to try all your desires. Pre-cum from his cock smears across your lower back.
"I plan on making the most of my one night with you," you admit, before turning around to face him.
"Interesting." He smirks and squeezes your ass. "Now, do you want me to fuck you?"
"Yes, please." You reply excitedly, "Fuck me, sir."
It's not exactly gentle, the way he pushes you down onto the bed, although he makes sure you are comfortable before he follows. Sliding between your quickly spreading thighs, his hips are cradled by yours and he lays his throbbing cock against your mound as he slowly gives you his weight, letting you feel him spread over you.
"Dave," you moan, as he throbs against your clit. Nerves dancing around in your tummy as you get ready to take your first ever cock, "Please."
"Please what?" He teases again, brushing his lips against yours while he rocks his hips playfully. "You want something, you have to tell me."
"Kiss me," it's not what you were begging for, but the way his lips brushed against yours, has you needing more.
He knows that wasn't what you meant to say, but he chuckles. Giving into your pretty begging, he kisses you and slides his tongue along your lips.
You can't help but moan against his lips, before opening yours and letting his tongue gain entry. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you press him closer, the kiss becoming more frantic as you do so.
He doesn't rush you. Making out like he's not aching to sink into your virgin walls and claim you. His tongue caresses yours and he groans into your mouth.
Your spare hand trails down his back, your fingernails lightly digging in and leaving small scratches and marks wherever they can. "Fuck me, Dave," you beg softly against his lips, before resuming your kiss.
Pulling his hips back slightly, Dave moves his cock with his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds before he presses against your entrance. "With pleasure."
You take a deep breath, ready for him to shove his cock into you, but he's much slower than you're anticipating. Pushing in inch by inch and letting you adjust to the width of him.
Even if his hand was forced, he's not going to make this any harsher than it needs to be. Slowly rocking his hips as he fills you. Keeping his lips on yours as he gathers you closely.
It makes you hiss as he stretches you open, your fingernails digging a little harsher into his skin until he fills you to the hilt.
"Not a virgin anymore." He murmurs against your lips, making sure that he doesn't move while you get used to the feeling of him inside you.
"Thank you," you reply, "You feel so big, Dave."
"I am big." He hums, not boasting but he's got a good sized cock.
"And you’re all mine tonight," you say with a giggle, "You can move. I want you to feel good."
Making a sound of agreement, Dave starts to move Grinding deeper before pulling his hips back to start a slow and steady rhythm. While he wants to wreck you, there is time for that later. He needs you to get used to his cock and enjoy the ride.
You're surprised at how quickly the pleasure drowns out the ache of pain. "Feels so good," you murmur as he slightly increases his pace, searching for that spot inside of you. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
He rolls his hips down, rewarded when you squeal and your walls clench down around his cock. "There it is." He groans with a grin on his face as he makes sure to hit against that spot again and again with every thrust.
You swear that you can see stars as he notches against a part of you that you've never been able to reach. Your walls greedily suction around him as he pulls out your pleasure with ease. "Tell me how I feel," you beg, needing to hear how good you're making him feel.
"Tightest little cock sleeve I've ever been in." He groans, being purposefully filthy and moaning in your ear. "So goddamn hot and tight around me." He hisses when you clench down around him in response to his filthy words. "Gonna fuck you all night, just leave you on my cock."
"Please," you gasp out at his words, camping down around him as he notches against paradise. "Fill me up, make this pussy yours."
"Gonna." He grits out, clenching his teeth together and snarling when you wrap your legs around his waist. His next thrust is harsher than he meant, unable to hold back as he surges forward and fills you with his cock.
You cry out as he snaps his hips, and he immediately covers your mouth with his. Gripping onto to you as he rocks his hips, fucking into that spot whilst possessively claiming your lips.
He keeps his thrusts sharper, enjoying the way that you respond and clench around him. Loving how your nails scratch down his back and mark him up for Carol to see. He groans into your mouth and reaches down to hitch your leg higher on his hip, wanting to get even deeper.
You feel yourself teetering on the edge, seconds away from falling over. The sound of him grunting your name sends you flying, white hot pleasure ripping through you as you scream his name, your cunt clamps down hard around his throbbing cock before flooding around him.
He hadn't expected you to cum so quickly but he groans, rocking you through it with the same pace that had worked you up to your orgasm. Watching as you thrash under him and feeling the small catch in his throat when you whimper his name after screaming it.
"Fuck," you choke out, as he continues to chase his high. Your pussy still fluttering around his throbbing cock as you come down from your high. "You're incredible," you murmur against his lips, "So fucking incredible."
"You're incredible." He grunts, knowing that you want reassurance that you are good. "Gonna make me cum if I'm not careful."
"I want you to cum," you say, bumping your nose against his,
"Fuck, I want to feel you dripping from me.
You are filthy and he loves that. Twitching inside you as he chuckles. "Then you'll drip me while I recover." He promises, quickening his pace to one that he wanted to fuck you at.
He punches the air from your lungs as he chases his high, fucking you into the mattress as you bite down onto his shoulders uncaring about the marks you'll leave. You want to tell him that he feels better than you imagined, how all the books and videos on Bellessa House didn't prepare you for just how incredible it all feels.
Dave's hands run down your thighs, pulling them up more as he snaps his hips down, fucking furiously into you.Wanting to fuck away the traitorous thoughts in his head. He grunts. "Fuck. Shit-you- tight."
The pace is dizzying, the pleasure accompanied by a little twang of pain making your head spin. Opening your eyes you concentrate on his face, his pupils blown wide with lust as he grunts over and over, his pace getting a little sloppier with every thrust as he nears his high.
He feels his body starting to tighten. Balls pulling up against his body and he hisses out a curse as his hips stutter. "Fuck." Thrusting twice more, he grinds his cock deep and moans your name as he paints your walls with hot spurts of cum, emptying himself into you.
You moan louder with every spurt of cum that he fills you up with, never wanting to lose this feeling of being caught beneath him. "That was incredible," you murmur after a few moments of panting and catching breaths. "Thank you."
He hums and looks down at you with a small smirk. "You're welcomed?" He asks. "Maybe I should be thanking you."
"No," you say with a little shake of your head, "That was perfect. Better than I had ever imagined. How are you feeling?" You ask as he hooks your leg around his hip and lays down next to you, keeping his cock nestled inside.
He snorts, rolling his eyes at your question. "I just took your virginity." He reminds you. "I should be asking you how you feel." You shrug slightly and he sighs. "Surprisingly good for being the first time l've cheated on my wife." He tells you.
"Do you regret it?" You ask, stroking his face and trying to ignore the way it stung a little as he rolled his eyes at you. "Are you happy you came?"
"I don't regret it." He promises, leaning into your touch. "And I am happy that I came. Pun completely intended." He jokes.
"Good," you say with a smile, your fingertips rubbing the softest circles into his face. "I'm really happy that you came, I see how stressed you've been... And I just feel the need to take some of that away from you."
"You see that I'm stressed?" His brow furrows in surprise, sure that he had carried the stress well. At least Carol had not asked about it in a long time.
"You carry it on your shoulders," you say, before pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. "And in your eyes."
"Why would you care?" He seriously doesn't understand why you would want to ease his stress.
You immediately notice the change in him, and you worry you've overstepped. "You just work so hard... I'm sorry."
"No." Dave reaches for your hand when you pull it back, keeping it on his face. "I don't mean it like that." He explains. "I just don't know why you would care about me."
"Why not? You work so hard to look after your family." You resume drawing the little circles on his face with your fingertips, "I'm not saying I didn't want to do this for selfish reasons, but really I just wanted to give you some relief."
It's quite possibly the most touching thing that someone has done for him in a long time. Despite the headache he got from Carol, he feels relaxed. He hums and rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. "Then you need to keep relieving me tonight." He grunts, eyes closed and a hint of a smile on his face.
"However you need," you say with a giggle, before bending over and recapturing his lips with a bruising kiss.
"Are you okay?" He asks softly, wanting to make sure that he hadn't hurt you.
"I'm really fucking good," you say, before nudging your nose against his. "Better than I have been in a long time."
"Good." He accepts that, sighing softly as he wonders what the fuck will happen now. He's enjoying being here with you. Liking how you are soft and sweet with him.
"Do you wanna order room service, baby?" You ask, loving the way he pulls you even closer. "See if I can make you cum again before it arrives?"
"What do you want to eat?" He asks. "Might be harder for you to make me cum the second time around."
"I'm up for a challenge, and mhmmm... breakfast sounds good."
"Are you one that can eat breakfast anytime?" He asks with a chuckle, thinking of all the times Alice demands pancakes for dinner.
"I could eat you anytime," you giggle, "But yes. IHOP is my idea of a romantic date."
He snorts and shakes his head. "So I shouldn't tell you that I make better pancakes, hmmm?"
"Not unless you're planning on making me some," you murmur against his lips, "Order food, baby."
"You have to move off me." He reminds you in a teasing tone as he squeezes your hips.
"Hurry," you say, before moving off him and shooting him an exaggerated pout. "Extra maple syrup."
The menu is by the phone on the desk across from the bed.
Striding over to it nude, Dave is very aware of your eyes on him as he picks up the receiver and connects to the kitchen to place the order.
Your eyes roam up and down his body, taking in every delicious inch. He's gorgeous. Broad and begging to be touched... tasted.
He orders you pancakes, extra maple syrup with eggs and a mimosa. A steak for himself, with eggs and toast to keep with the breakfast theme. Turning back towards you as he finishes up the order. "Anything else?"
"Just you," you say with a smirk.
Rolling his eyes, he pulls the phone back up to his mouth.
"That's it. Thanks." Hanging up, he watches you watch him for a moment, finding the fascination in your eyes slightly thrilling.
"Come here," you tell him softly.
He could resist, probably should reestablish the power dynamic but he finds that he doesn't want to. Humming quietly, he walks towards you, keeping his eyes on you.
"Kiss me, Dave York, and then tell me what you want me to do to you."
You are an intoxicating mixture of submissive and demanding, making it hard to judge what will come out of your mouth. "If you want me to fuck you again, you better suck my cock."
The moment he's laying down, you're crawling down the bed and positioning yourself between his legs. He's half hard and you feel your core get wetter at the thought of him hardening in your mouth. "With pleasure."
Eagerly, you take his cock into your mouth, making him groan before you pull off of him. He grunts, but is satisfied when you lick up the length of him. "Fuck. Greedy little thing, aren't you?" He huffs happily.
You hum happily around his length, gently sucking his cock and loving how it feels as he gets harder and harder in your mouth.
Dave reaches down, his hand smoothing over your hand and around to your jaw. Feeling it open and work as you bob up and down on his cock. "Does it turn you on?"
You nod yes, too greedy to pull off to speak. This is the only night you get him and you refuse to let a moment go to waste. You hollow your cheeks like you've seen in porn and moan in pleasure around him.
"Less suction." He urges you, smirking down at your wide eyes.
"Don't suck my soul out. I don't have one."
You pull off him and shake your head, "Yes you do. No one loves their kids the way you love those girls without a soul, Dave."
"They are my kids." He tells you. "Of course I love them."
"You have a soul, Dave," you say again softly, before taking him back in your mouth. He's fully hard and you're on a race against the clock to get him to cum again before food arrives. You swallow over and over as you take him as deep as you can, trying hard not to gag as you start bobbing up and down.
He watches, groaning when he's bucking his hips up slightly.
"Good girl." He moans your name quietly, feeling his body responding to your eager mouth.
You gently stroke the parts of him you can't fit into your mouth, wanting him to flood your mouth with his cum, needing to make this moment just about him. You double down on your efforts while remaining conscious that you've only done this once before earlier this evening. The groans he rewards you with spurring you on as his hips start to rock in and out of your greedy little mouth.
"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" Dave grunts, wondering if you want him to fill your pussy again or mouth this time.
The smile that spreads across your face even with your mouth stuffed full of his cock makes him chuckle. You gently nod, not wanting to hurt him, still bobbing up and down. The ache between your legs growing stronger and stronger with every passing second.
His groan of your name is strained, nearly unheard as it's forced from his throat with all the air in his lungs. His body tensing up and his balls pulling tight against his body for the second time tonight.
You hum in delight as he starts to spill down your throat, one of his hands holding your head still as he rocks his hips.
The salty tang of him is addictive and you hope it's not the only time time he'll finish in your mouth tonight. You swallow as much as you can, feeling some slip from the corner of your lips and he fills you up. Each one of his thrusts coming with a raspy groan of pleasure.
You gently pull off him as he hisses from the overstimulation, making eye contact, you gather up the cum that's dripping down your chin and neck and bring it up to your lips, being sure to swallow every drop. "You taste delicious, Mr York."
The knock at the door interrupts you both and Dave springs up. Reaching for his boxers as he looks back at you. "Get under the covers."
"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle, loving how possessive he is.
Dave opens the door, sure that it's not Carol coming to scream at you, he had not let her know where he was taking you. The waiter nods and he backs up to allow him to bring the tray in. "On the table is fine." He tells him, looking at where you're peeking out over the covers.
You avoid eye contact with the waiter, focusing on watching Dave. Your eyes scanning his broad shoulders and feeling yourself grow more desperate to feel him again. You whisper a soft 'thank you' to the waiter as he puts the tray down and makes his way back towards the door.
Only after the lock is flipped again does Dave start to chuckle. "That man wanted to see you so bad, I thought he was going to strain his eyes."
You whip off the covers and raise an eyebrow, "Do you wanna call him back?" You tease as he shakes his head.
"Think I'll keep you to myself." He decides, motioning you over. "Come eat. Don't get dressed."
"Please do," you say as you slide off the bed and stroll over to him. Unashamed of your nakedness in front of him, because you feel so at ease. "I'm starved."
"Good." He winks and starts to pull the covers off the dishes. "If you spill syrup on yourself, I'll just lick it off you."
"Sounds like you're trying to make me spill it." You take a mouthful of the soft fluffy pancakes and moan in delight,
"Second best thing I've tasted this evening."
"What's the first?" He asks, smirking slightly and finding your flirty, playful humor to be far more enjoyable than he had thought you would be. You always seemed so nervous around him.
"I think you know," you say, before reaching over and stealing a fry from his plate. "How are you feeling?"
"Surprisingly good." Dave tells you, smirking slightly and pushing his plate towards you. "I don't like being forced to do something, so I had thought I would resent tonight. But I have enjoyed myself."
"Did you really feel forced?" You ask, feeling your face drop.
"I wouldn't have said shit, I can't believe I even suggested it;
I think it was because she was being so mean."
"No." He shakes his head, wishing he hadn't said anything to you. Not liking the way your face has fallen and you look upset. "I don't feel forced. You gave me the excuse to touch you."
"Good," you say quietly, biting down on your bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "I-uh, you know you can leave if you want to? I'll sign anything, I’ll do anything, but I think you already know that I'd never do anything that you could get implicated in and get you in trouble."
"I'm not leaving." Dave assures you. "I think we are past signing anything, don't you?"
"Yes," you reply, a small smile briefly lifting your lips upwards, before you dig back into your food.
"Good." He smirks slightly as he watches you eat. You've got a good appetite.
"What do you want to do after this?" You ask, between bites of pancakes. "I could make you cum again. With my hand this time?"
"You are the one who should tell me how this is going to go." He reminds you. "You are the one without the experience. What do you want to do?"
"I want to ride you."
"Then finish your dinner and I'Il let you climb on top."
"You'll tell me what to do?" You ask, a little embarrassed. "I mean I've seen it in porn, but I want you to feel good."
Dave snorts, nearly choking on his drink and looks over at you to see if you are being serious. "Sweetheart, if your pussy is around my dick, I feel good."
"That's it?" You ask, all wide eyed and hopeful. Gently placing the fork down onto your plate.
He nods, watching you preen under the praise. "You could sit on my cock while you eat and I would be happy."
"Right now, sir?" Your voice softly begs, as you stare into those dark brown eyes.
You continuously surprise him. He pushes back from the table and lifts his hips to take off his boxers. "Come sit."
You push your plate across the table before standing up and stepping towards him. "Yes sir." Grateful that you're still slick enough for him to slide in, you slowly lower yourself as he guides his cock towards your entrance. "Fuck. How do you feel thicker like this?"
The angle is better but he's too busy groaning your name to tell you that. Gripping your hips and closing his eyes in bliss.
"Feel good baby?" You ask, with a giggle. Feeling his thighs tighten beneath you as you clench around him.
"Feels good." Dave breathes out. "How does it feel for you?"
He asks, sliding his hands up to explore your body shamelessly as you sit on his throbbing cock.
"Incredible." Shamelessly you lean your head back and rest it on his shoulder, loving the way his hands feel on you.
"I think we are doing a good job of making the most of this one night," you say before grinding down on him. Clenching as tight as you can around him.
He hisses, jaw clenching at how good it feels. How tight you are gripping him. "Gonna make sure you remember this." He grunts.
"Fuck," you groan, as you rock your hips. His grip on you getting tighter as you rest your head back on his shoulder. "I know you are."
His hand possessively comes back around the front of your waist and holds you tight. Fusing you to him as he snaps his hips hard and fast to see your reaction in his sudden change of pace. Loving the innocent yet filthy moan of his name that he steals from your throat.
Dave digs his fingers into your waist, wanting to leave tender marks for you to remember him by. Bruises that you can press and remember how he had held you, fucked you. "Another moan." He demands, driving his hips up again. "More."
You give into his demand so easily, letting the room fill with the sounds of your pleasure. You push down and meet each thrust of his hips with your own, feeling pleasure course through your body, making your eyes roll back and your clit throb.
This has been to get back at Carol, to give you what you want to shut you up, but right now, this is for him. Watching you start to cum is his own personal little pleasure.
Knowing that he is making your eyes roll back is a thrill.
"Dave," you mumble softly, feeling the coil inside of you threaten to snap and throw you over that edge as he fucks up into you. "Please." You start to beg over and over as it starts to feel all too much but not enough at once.
He hums, continuing to rock up into you at a harsh pace.
Wondering what you are asking him. For him to cum, for him to make you cum again. He hisses out your name and drags you down for a kiss.
His lips are possessive and rough but you love it. His hand grips your jaw as he kisses you hard while continuing to grind his hips.
You murmur his name softly against his plush lips, before interlacing your fingers with his and bringing his hand up to your breast. "Make me yours."
He follows your lead, groping your breast and tangling his tongue against yours again. Taking control and wrapping his other arm around you and lifting you up onto the table, scattering the dishes.
"Tell me what you need," you murmur against his lips, as he tightens the grip he has on you and as you wrap legs around his waist.
Dave shoots to his feet, crowding over you. "Let me-" he grabs your thighs and pulls them up onto your waist. "Hang on."
"Yes sir," you say with a little giggle. "What are we doing?"
You watch his face, as he stares down at you, clearly enjoying the view. The urge to reach up and gently brush his cheek becomes overwhelming but you figure that may be overstepping a line, so you wait patiently for him to make his next move.
He stares for a few moments, rolling his jaw a few times before letting himself go."Tight little pussy," he growls quietly, before cupping your cunt and swiftly moving his hand up to your chest. "Perfect tits." He squeezes your breast roughly for a few moments and quickly let's go so he can grip your trembling jaw.
"Enthusiastic little mouth, you're being absolutely perfect for me... aren't you? Are you trying to make it difficult for me? Make it impossible to keep you for just one night?" You blink up at him, all doe eyed and innocent, staying completely still and silent as his hands roam your body.
Mumbling filth and praises and reminding you that no else has ever touched you how he's touching you right now, no one else has ever buried themselves deep in your perfect cunt and tasted your cum.
"I was furious," Dave admits after a few moments of silence, with a shake of his head. “Another careless mess she left me to clear up. But fuck, this time I might thank her when I get home." He tucks his thumb underneath your jaw and tilts your head up a little, before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is quick, but it's consuming, the kind that makes you curl your toes and gasp for air... the kind that leaves your body begging for more. "I don't think I've felt this relaxed in years, or this happy."
"Dave," you breathe out and he immediately shushes you and presses another kiss to your lips.
"Will you let me show you how thankful I am, baby girl?"
"Yes," you breathe out, the easiest question you've ever had to answer.
You're still comfortably perched on the table, and he takes his seat in front of you again before he spreads your legs and places them over his shoulders.
The view has his cock twitching. Your pretty little pussy glistening with both of your arousal, his cum still slowly dripping from you. The heat of his breath coats your cunt and it sends the most delicious shiver down your spine as he teases what's to come.
"Should I lick this pretty little clit?" He murmurs against your thigh before gently sinking his teeth into it, "Or should I shove my tongue into that pretty little asshole? Watch you squirm as I eat your ass?"
He watches the way your chest starts to heave up and down, loving the innocence sketched across your face. "I'm going to lick your clit, and have you cum on my face and then you're going to taste yourself from my lips." He decides out loud, but not before gently biting your thigh again.
Your innocence is so appealing. Your enthusiasm for him is intoxicating. Dave hasn't felt this good about sex in years, since Alice was born. Definitely not as eager to eat Carol out as he is you.
Every flick of his tongue is calculated, he's taking his time, wanting to watch you come undone slowly and not wanting to rush this. He can tell you're eager for more, and you'll get it, but right now every swipe of his tongue is designed to make you beg for more. He needs to hear it, and the louder you'll be for him, the more he'll give to you.
There's something completely thrilling about taking someone's pleasure and making it his own. Controlling it.
Controlling you through it. It's just as satisfying as pulling a trigger, in some ways more so, because the people he fucks know him.
A soft whimper of his name stumbles from your lips as he methodically licks at your clit, loving every tremble of your thighs and shaky exhale he's pulling from you. "P-please," you beg quietly and wantonly as he picks up his pace a little bit.
Your fingers gently weave through his hair, pulling him closer to you as he flicks and sucks at your clit, groaning in pleasure as you moan his name.
There's something innocent about your face as he works you up. Even as dirty as it is, you still look innocent. Making him more determined to pull you apart.
You can feel that little coil inside of you threatening to snap, as your thighs start to shake uncontrollably. The sound of his groans paired with the expert flick of his tongue making you see stars and moan his name so sweetly.
He growls into your core, as your fingers twist in his hair as everything starts to go dark. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you teeter over that delicious edge.
"Cum," he growls, lips still attached to your clit and you can't deny him. Your thighs tighten around his head as your thrown so deliciously over that edge, your back arching as you press his head closer to your pussy.
Dave groans, changing from sucking on your clit to lapping delicately at your folds. Tasting the sweetness that pours from you as you shake.
You weakly call out his name as your orgasm continues to course throughout you. His mouth is still working its magic, as you tremble beneath him, and your fingers start rubbing soft circles into the back of his head.
"You. Are. Amazing." You say, before erupting in a fit of giggles, fingers gripping on to the edge of the table to steady yourself. "Is it my turn to take care of you?"
He doesn't answer, instead he does exactly what he said he was going to do and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your arousal straight from his lips. Keeping your mouth pressed to his as he explores your mouth enthusiastically, loving the way he can pull those sweet little moans from you with just his kiss.
"Finish eating baby girl," he says with a wink, "The night is still young and I've not had my fill of you just yet."
You pull yourself up from the table, and take a seat next to his, smiling at the way he immediately pulls your chair closer and you both eat your dessert in a comfortable silence.
"Dave... Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," he grunts back, squeezing your thigh slightly.
"Why do you put up with it? I understand you have the girls but everyone knows they worship the ground you walk on." You say with a shaky breath, scared of overstepping a line.
"Baby, you deserve to have someone waiting at home that'll treat you right. That'll show you just how grateful they are for you. How much they love you."
Dave frowns slightly, punching his brow together and he wonders why you care so much, although it's nice that you do. "Carol- she knows the darkest parts of me." He tells you. "Things that would give you nightmares and run away screaming."
"You know the darkest parts of her," you counter back.
"You're clearly working overtime to clear them up. So she can't use dark secrets against you in court." Your hand finds his and you lace your fingers with his, "You waltz into my house and insinuated that you could get rid of every trace of me, Dave, and here I am.. Am I running right now?"
You make a good point and Dave slowly shakes his head. “Why?” He asks quietly. “I’m married, I’m a killer. You should be running. You shouldn’t have given me your virginity.”
“I have no regrets,” you say with a shrug, noticing the change in him. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
“Don’t say that about yourself.” He huffs. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
You move closer to him, and place your hands on his chest. “And there’s nothing wrong with you, Dave.”
He stares at you for a moment and contemplates your point. “And you think I should leave Carol.” He is talking out loud. “I would get less time with my kids and she’d be a bitch about things.”
“You deserve to be happy, and you don’t need to worry about not seeing the girls. Anyone would happily stand up and testify that you’re an incredible father, Dave.” you say with a smile. “And whatever happens, no matter how tough it gets, you can always call me. Anytime you need to talk… or if you need a little stress relief… maybe I could find a way to help with that?”
Dave arches a brow at your suggestion, basically an invitation to continue this if he wanted. “Yeah?” The smug smirk returns. “Liked it that much, huh?” You are far from a slut, but the idea of making you *his* slut is broadly appealing.
“Dave,” you say, before biting down on your lip for a few seconds and then letting go, “I fucking loved it. The things I want you to do to me… I’d let you do anything. You are intoxicating.”
He looks at you for a moment and then chuckles. “You might just be worth it.” He muses, reaching out and cupping your cheek. Patting it lightly and then gripping your chin. His phone starts to buzz in his pants pocket on the floor and he shakes his head when your eyes slide over there to the pile. “Just leave it. Let her stew.” He decides. “She’ll fuck up.” The prediction is an easy one. “She always does.”
“I’d really like you to fuck me again, Mr. York,” you say with a giggle ignoring the buzzing as he instructed, your chin still comfortably nestled in his hand. “Do you think you’ve got another round in you?” You tease as you gently squeeze his cock, loving the way he hisses in response.
“You’re gonna be a brat.” Dave growls. “I can tell. You fuck a girl one time and now she’s addicted.” He’s teasing, known that he’s going to fuck you again as soon as he gets hard. As long as you aren’t sore.
“Are you surprised?” You tease back, “How could I not have gotten addicted, baby? You are delicious. And yes. I’ll be brat if I have to be.” You press your lips to his and gently bite down on his bottom lip. “The things I’m going to beg you to do to me.”
“Like what?” He wants to know how dirty you are, what you want. “What would you beg me to do to you? Darkest little secret.”
You feel your cheeks burn as he stares at you, ready to hear all the filthy thoughts you’ve had about him. “You could tie me up,” you say quietly, “Keep me tied up until you’ve used me for as long as you want. Cover me in your cum.”
“*Nasty*.” He smirks and gives a small chuckle. “I think you would like that, wouldn’t you?” It’s interesting that you would have such filthy dreams when you were just so innocent. His cock twitches and he watches your eyes fall to his groin.
“I want you to use me for your own pleasure,” you say, as you gently rub his cock. “However you want.”
He groans quietly and starts to harden under your touch. “You sore?”
“A little,” you admit, “But nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits quietly and sincerely. He’s a dick, and an asshole, but he’s not a sadist.
“I’ll tell you if you need to stop,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want you.”
“Get on your knees.” He orders. “Show me your cunt.”
“I love how filthy you are,” you giggle, before obeying his command.
"I'm a dirty guy." He admits, reaching out and spreading your cheeks to see all of you.
"And all mine for the night." You say, moaning gently as his fingertips drag through your folds.
The phone buzzes again and he doesn't pay it any attention as he starts to push his fingers inside you. Curling them up to press deep.
You moan his name, nuzzling your face in his neck as he works magic with his fingers. "God. I might not let you leave."
He smirks because he hasn't told you to turn around, but you couldn't resist getting close to him again. "I might not go."
"Seems like i'm not the only one who's got addicted," you tease, between breathy moans.
"Hard to resist when you are so easy." He snorts. "When you're giving it away, why wouldn't I take it?"
"Easy?" You say, pushing his arm away. "Maybe I won't give it away if that's what you think."
"Hey, I was teasing." He frowns, but he drops his hand when you push him away.
"Make it up to me," you say, a smile spreading across your face to let him know you were teasing.
He huffs and shoots you a halfhearted glare. "You're not funny." He grumbles.
"You're sexy when you're grumpy." You say, grabbing his hand and leading it back towards your cunt.
"Brat." He huffs, but his fingers still find their way back inside you. Perhaps pushing a little harder than necessary, but you moan anyway.
"Your brat," you breathe out, as he starts pumping his fingers and finding that magic spot with ease. "Make me cum and then give me your cock."
"How about I give you my cock and make you cum on it?" He challenges, continuing to finger you roughly and he reaches out with his other hand to slap your ass.
"That sounds perfect," you say with a grin, "Do you like knowing that you're the only man to have ever touched me like this?"
"Fuckin' love it." He admits with a low growl.
"The only man I'd let touch me like this," you admit quietly
He doesn't say anything, but he hears you. His touch turns more possessive, commanding on your body as he works you up.
"I'm close," you choke out, as the delicious coil inside of you threatens to snap. "I would let you do anything to me, Dave. Anything.”
“Then cum for me.” Dave orders, slapping your ass again as you clench down on his fingers.
“Yes sir,” you say, before rocking your hips a little, chasing his fingers and your high. Feeling your pussy possessively pull his fingers back in as your walls flutter around them. “Tell me I'm yours.” You beg, wanting to hear him claim you.
“You’re mine.” He groans. “I marked you, claimed you. Mine.”
“All yours, Dave,” you whimper as your orgasm begins to overwhelm you. “Yours.” You cum hard, a steady stream of arousal coating his hand and wrist as you whisper his name before falling forward onto his chest. Your arms wrap around him, holding him gently as your breaths grow less rapid, your clit still pulsating and your cunt dripping as you come down from your high. It's surprising how comfortable you are with him, feeling nothing but content with him seeing you at your most vulnerable. He had said not long before that you should have never given him your virginity, but you disagree and in this moment you know you could never regret a single moment of any of being with him.
"How do you want me?" You ask quietly, cupping your hands around his jaw.
Dave pulls back slightly as he considers your question. His dark eyes narrowing slightly as he starts to realize that you might have done him a very large favor by demanding to spend a night with him. He had grown complacent, used to dealing with Carol's shit. Living in an honestly unhappy marriage because of the girls and because he knows that she would make his life hell. "Permanently." He decides.
"Sounds like you got addicted to this pussy after all," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips.
"It's a good pussy." He snorts, smirking against your lips.
"You wanna sleep? Or do you wanna fuck me again?" You ask, as he wraps his arms around you just a little tighter.
"Sleep," he says, before placing a quick kiss on your lips. "If you're good, I'll wake you up with my cock." He smirks when you whimper and settles down with you in his arms. "Sleep, baby."
"Goodnight, Dave," you mumble softly before falling into the deepest and most comfortable sleep you've had in ages. Feeling warmer and safer than you ever have, nestled up in his arms.
**
The justification for the way that he rolls you over in your sleep and spreads your legs is simple. The night isn't over.
Neither one of you have left the room and the sun still isn't quite yet peeked over the horizon. Allowing him to fully reason why there's nothing wrong with lining up and pushing inside your tight cunt slowly to watch your eyes start to move under their lids as you start to break free from sleep.
"D-Dave," you stutter incoherently, as he presses against something devastating inside of you. Still fighting sleep as he begins to overwhelm every single one of your senses.
He chuckles mockingly. "You wanted me to wake you up with my cock." His hips slap forward to punctuate his words.
Words refuse to form in your throat, as you let out a stream of pleasured moans and whimpers of his name. He finds that spot with such ease that it knocks the air out of your lungs, you feel your pussy flutter around him as you try to pull him towards you for a kiss.
You're so soft, so warm. Pulling him closer and Dave grunts before he presses his lips to yours. He had woken up harder than a rock and had almost resisted the urge to touch you again, but then your words came back to him. Realizing that you were right.
"Good morning, baby," you say with a giggle, before letting your hand run up and down his spine. Loving the way he starts kissing you between thrusts.
He doesn't answer you, just slides his tongue into your mouth as he pounds into you. Increasing the pace as you wake up.
"Fuck," you garble, as he works you into the mattress. Fucking you harder with each thrust, pulling the filthiest sounds from you as that coil inside of you threatens to snap.
"You gonna cum?" Dave demands through his teeth, breathless from his efforts. "Cream all - fuck - over my cock?"
"Yes!” You call out, your fingernails digging into his warm skin as everything goes dark. Your body starts to convulse beneath him as pleasure pumps throughout you. You hear him telling you to take it all as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.
Dave's never been one to lose himself in sex, but he's completely lost. Unable to think of anything but the clutch of your cunt and your sweet moans. His hips driving forward to hear more.
"Cum," you gasp, as his movements become a little sloppier, moaning as you're still coming down from your high. "Fill me up."
Dave hisses against your lips, fingers digging into your shoulders and he feels his pace falter. "Fuck."
"You feel so good," you murmur against his lips.
Another thrust before he's grunting, pushing deep and moaning your name against your lips as he floods your cunt with ropes of cum. Feeling more relaxed than ever before when he's done and slumping down into your arms.
"You good?" You giggle, as you wrap your arms around him.
"Great." Dave sighs as he tucks his head into your shoulder for a moment more. "Just great."
You glance over at the clock and see it's still early, and decide to hold him a little tighter, letting you both fall into another sleep. Not ready for when he'll pull himself away later that morning.
**
Dave had fallen asleep inside you. When he wakes up again, he can't believe that he actually fell asleep inside you.
Pulling away slowly so he can slip out of the bed and shower, frowning slightly as he thinks about the night and the entire situation while he cleans up.
You wake to the sound of the shower, feeling a twinge of disappointment he snuck out of bed without waking you.
You stay glued to the spot, nestled up comfortably and listen to the sound of the water. The urge to join him grows stronger but you don't act on it, figuring he would have invited you to shower with him it that's what he had wanted.
You wonder if you should start gathering up your things, but you don't, instead you pull the pillow he had slept on closer to you and snuggle into it. Inhaling his scent and letting yourself enjoy the memories from the night before.
Dave showers methodically, like he would if he were coming back from an op. Stripping his skin down to leave no trace of evidence on it, although the same cannot be said this time about his heart or mind. Stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist, he's already made the decision that he had been thinking about. Opening the door to find you wrapped around his pillow and smirking as he leans against the frame.
"Good morning," you say quietly, as you look over at him.
Admiring how good he looks as droplets of water drip down his chest.
"How are you feeling?"
"Surprisingly pretty good." Dave admits, looking a little confounded by that. "I normally never sleep well, but I slept through until I was getting up to take a shower."
"Good," you say with a small smile, not letting up on snuggling the pillow. "I guess I should shower now as well. Before we go back to our regular lives."
Dave shrugs slightly but you don't see it. "Think you might be tipping off the police who caused the damage." He comments.
"No. I promised," you say, panic rising in your voice, "You don't trust me?"
He watches you shoot up off the pillow, your eyes frantic.
"Fine." He shrugs again. "Guess I'll tip them off, then."
"What are you talking about, Dave?" You say, as you pick his shirt up and pull it on, before rounding the bed towards him.
"Decided I'm not going to let Carol keep getting away with shit." He had thought about it in the shower and decided it was the right thing to do.
You place one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek, studying his face for a few seconds before realizing that he's officially done with cleaning up messes that aren't his own. "I can do it. I can talk to them. Request it's anonymous, you don’t need to be the one making the report."
"Good." Dave nods. "The car hasn't been fixed yet, they should be able to get all the evidence they need off it."
You gently rub your thumb back and forth against his cheek before nodding, "Whatever you want me to say, I'll do it. I'll help however I can."
"Just tell the truth." He smirks at you. "But leave out the part where you fucked her husband."
"That's my favourite party of the story though," you say with a giggle, before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Guess I'll have to keep it to myself."
"You can tell me later on, once the dust has settled." Dave snorts. "There's plenty of evidence of other misdeeds that will be found."
"Sounds like you'll have a lot of stress that you'll somehow need to work out, Mr. York."
He snorts, smirking at you and tilts his head. "Stressful job, stressful life, about to be a single parent." He chuckles.
"Hope your little pussy is ready to be pounded every night while I work out that 'stress'.”
"Ready and wanting." You say before smashing your lips against his and wrapping your arms around him. "Anytime you need me."
[3 months later]
A smile stretches across your face as he crawls up from the bottom of the bed, his cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs as he pushes yours open.
With a possessive growl and he calls you his before slipping inside of you in one fluid motion, capturing your lips as he fills you to the hilt.
It had been a new start for you both, and you couldn't be happier that you started it together, with the girls.
Who'd have thought that witnessing that little wreck would have been the best thing that had ever happened to you?
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal characters#Dave York#David York#Dave York x you#Dave York x Reader#Dave York x F! Reader#dave york x female reader#Dave York x OFC#Dave York Smut#Dave York Imagine#Dave York x original female character#Dave York x Yn#The Equalizer 2#The Equalizer fanfiction#My fanfiction#my fanfic#i love dave york yall#absurdthirst
338 notes
·
View notes
Text
the christmas fair
part four of home for christmas
natasha romanoff x reader
The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.
Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.
Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.
But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?
fluff, friendship, an attempt at humour, cringe of course, brief angst?
wc: 3.1k | part one | part two | part three | part five
Wanda’s arm wrapped itself behind your back as she took her place beside you on the sofa, supplying you with a cup of hot chocolate whilst Monica, Carol, Kamala and Kate sat around you too. It was routine for the group of you to get together after a date and this instance was no different, despite it not being your regular topic of conversation, a debrief of yesterday was a must.
“Not to just jump right into the elephant in the room,” Kamala spoke. “But, she kissed you?”
“I can’t believe her,” Monica sighed. She's been strongly supporting your side since the beginning - as had the others - and she wasn’t giving the redhead the benefit of the doubt. To her, she is the one that broke your heart and nothing else.
“Did you kiss her back?” Kate smirked. She, like Wanda, was willing to see the more optimistic side of the situation. Though they’re completely in your corner, with that also comes their desire for you to be happy. They’d attempt to beat Natasha up if that’s what you asked but they will also give her a little leeway - if that’s what you think she deserves. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to them all and they will support you with whatever choice you make.
“I may have,” you mumbled, hiding your heated cheeks behind your mug.
“Of course you did,” Carol laughed, stretching her leg as far as she could to give your knee a teasing nudge.
“Was it a good kiss?” Kamala asked through a smile. All of your friends seemed to find much amusement in your embarrassment.
“It was- I mean - it was a kiss, y’know?” you bumbled out, really hoping for a slight topic change to cool the way your skin had begun to burn beneath their teasing giggles.
“So it was pretty good, then,” Monica smirked, laughing at the way you tried to hide behind Wanda’s shoulder.
“God, I dunno,” you sighed. “It was good but I don’t know what that means - if it means anything. I don’t know if it changes anything for me and I don’t know if I want it to.”
“That’s okay,” Wanda spoke. Her voice was soft and the epitome of support and one glance at the softened eyes of your friends was enough to make your heart swell.
“Yeah, we’re all here for you - no matter what,” Kamala nodded, receiving hums of agreement around the room.
“We all know she broke your heart,” Monica added. “Whether you admit it or not.” She looked at you with a faux sternness with that, cutting off your murmurings of denial before you could even attempt them. “I, for one, do not like her. I hate her for how she left you but I can be civil-”
“I’m not sure that look you gave her the other night was ‘civil’,” Carol laughed and the woman couldn’t even deny it, she only shrugged with a huff of a laugh.
“She deserved it,” she returned. “My point is, I’m completely on your side. If you want her to go back to New York next week and never come back, I’ll keep her away. If you figure out this mess you’ve got going on and you decide she’s changed - that she’ll fit into your life - I will stick by you.”
“Mhm,” Wanda nodded. “We’re fighting in your corner. This is your life, don’t let anybody else dictate your decisions. It’s about your feelings.”
“I’m sure we could all gang up on her for a fight,” Kamala added, making you all laugh at the clear determination on her face.
“I could finally put my archery classes to good use,” Kate spoke.
“Alright,” you laughed. “I love you all but I’m not sure any of that’s necessary yet. I just - I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never felt so torn, y’know? It’s such a mess right now,” you groaned. “I want your honest opinions. What do I do?”
“Tell her to get back on her high horse in New York,” Monica spoke.
“I say, give her a chance,” Kamala stated.
“Me too,” Kate agreed. “You’ll never know for sure if you don’t explore it all.”
“While I think second chances are nice and all, I say you let us send her packing,” Carol spoke, making you all laugh lightly at the way she mockingly showed off her muscles.
“I think you should give her a chance,” Wanda smiled, she knows you best and she can see that glint in your eye. “But don’t give her a chance for her, do it for you. You deserve to know if she can give you what you deserve. I joke around with the ‘hopeless romantic’ thing but you know it’s just because I wanna see you happy. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I’ll help you pick up the pieces if it doesn’t go how you want it to. But I love you too much to just watch you give up a chance on something that could make you happy.”
“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing thickly at the tears that dared to bubble beneath the surface. “You’re the best friends a girl could ask for, you know that right?”
“Of course we do,” Monica grinned, stepping over to you to pull you into a hug.
She was quickly followed by the remainder of the group, soon barely able to breathe, crushed within five pairs of arms. You’d have it no other way.
“How about we take a night off from the Romanoff situation and go to the fair?” Kate questioned.
—
An hour later, the six of you were fumbling around with skates on your feet, trying your hardest to stay upright on the ice. It was the perfect way to forget about everything burdening you, it was difficult to focus on much else besides the mere act of not falling flat on your face.
Of course, to your luck, Yelena had decided to accompany her sister to the annual town fair right at the most inopportune time. You didn’t notice each other for a while, being fortunate to avoid one another at first. Little did you know, Natasha and her sister had been having a similar afternoon with a conversation surrounding you. She too, was attempting to steer clear for the time being, hoping the pair of you could organise your thoughts a little better before coming face to face again.
But, during an attempt to amuse your friends by separating from the onlooking group to try your hand at some kind of spin that would have them in awe, your body collided with another. The solidity of a leather jacket-clad torse was a relief compared to the frozen ground you’d expected to land on when you stumbled.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you hurried out, instinctively grabbing onto the arms that held you upright. “I- Natasha?”
“Hi,” she smiled. It was an observably awkward upturning of her lips but it was a smile nonetheless. “Fancy bumping into you here,” she laughed. You saw how it turned into a genuine chuckle when you laughed at the comment too.
“It was a graceful fall at least, right?”
“Like a ballerina,” she lied. You both knew you’d almost taken down a couple of other people with you but that wasn’t the point right now - you were practically begging her not to make fun of you. It was almost like before.
“What’re you doing here? I mean, you’re at the fair obviously - but what are you - are you here with Lena?” you stuttered out, regretting the short glance towards your staring friends who failed at hiding their amusement at the scene playing out in front of them.
“Yeah, she dragged me out here,” she laughed. “It’s almost as fun as I remembered.”
“Almost,” you whispered, voicing your thought aloud when you meant to keep it in. She looked at you fondly, remembering the way she’d used to do this all with you and you broke your inquisitive gaze with a clearing of your throat. The silence had lasted a little too long for your liking and Wanda skated over at just a glimpse of eye contact with you.
“Hey, Nat,” she nodded.
“Oh, hi.” She’d clearly forgotten she wasn’t existing in a moment that only the pair of you shared and her cheeks flushed pink as she let go of your arms - neither of you realised you were still holding onto the other.
“Sorry to drag her away but Kamala wants more hot chocolate.”
“Oh- right- yeah,” she nodded. “I’ll see you around?”
“Sure,” you smiled before letting Wanda guide you away.
—
“Okay, scale from one to ten, how awkward was that?” Kate asked you. “It looked like at least an eight from where we were.”
“Surprisingly, I’d give it a six,” you answered before taking a sip of the sweet drink in your paper cup.
“That is a surprise,” Monica returned. She was pleased that it hadn’t resulted in a need for a duel right there and then and that you were smiling bashfully at the thought of it. “I’d have put it at a nine. You literally fell into her, even I was embarrassed.”
“God, don’t make me think about it,” you grumbled. “I saw my life flash in front of my eyes.”
“Anything seeming a little clearer yet?” Wanda asked, bumping her shoulder into yours whilst you made your way over to the ferris wheel.
“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I’m not sure - I’m hoping to just avoid her for tonight and think about it tomorrow.”
“You do love to procrastinate,” Carol half-joked, as you joined the queue.
A while later, practically shivering in the cold, your breath forming in puffs of white before you, the line had shortened enough for you to make your way onto the ride. Carol paired off with Monica and Kate with Kamala but you had your seat stolen by some queue-jumper you could’ve rugby tackled on the spot.
You shook your head at Wanda just before she went to verbally attack them - you didn’t want to be banned for life.
You waited for the next available seat to make its way to you and felt the freezing metal through your jeans, instantly regretting agreeing to come on this ride at all.
“I can sit somewhere else if you want me to,” a voice rasped in your periphery. Natasha. Her hands were pushed into her pockets as usual and she inched away as though she knew your answer before you uttered it. The relieved grin she gave you when you patted the space next to you almost made you swoon; that smile almost made you forgive her on the spot. God, does she know how much she affects you?
“Of all the ferris wheels in all the towns, you get onto mine,” you smiled, revelling in the laugh she let out at your quotation of a movie you’d shown her years ago.
You let yourselves sit in the quiet as you lifted higher and higher off the ground. It wasn’t so uncomfortable this time. As though you’d both started to untangle the entwined and knotted mess of feelings about each other. Like the tension of a coiled spring beginning to loosen.
Seeing the town from this high up was picturesque; you could pinpoint houses, and places where memories were formed. She pointed out the part of the place you both called home where she’d laughed at you falling off a skateboard until her cheeks hurt. She brought it up for years afterwards and just a gesture of her hand in the direction of the spot was enough to make you gently shove her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbled as the metal of the wheel groaned and you were left stationary in the air, the cold breeze against the tip of your nose from the highest point you could be.
“Oh god,” you sighed, hearing the ride conductor shout up an apology and an approximate of ten minutes until you’d be let down. You laughed at the thought of Wanda stuck beside a stranger she’d taken an instant disliking to.
“Guess we’re trapped for a while,” she breathed, resting her arms on the bar in front of you with her hands fidgeting familiarly.
“Could be worse,” you laughed to ease the tension. “You could be Wanda.”
You nodded your head downwards to where your best friend was suspended in the air, positioning herself so far away from the boy beside her that she was practically falling off. Natasha laughed wholeheartedly at the sight. You both did and it brought up thoughts of the past, how it used to be, which made you think of the fact that she was truly here.
“How come you’re back?” you asked, turning as much as you could to challenge yourself to actually look her in the eye. “Not for the holidays - I mean, you just never come back. What changed?”
“I have to write a book. A kind of Christmas-themed one and, what better place to get inspiration than right here?”
“They got the twenty-first century Scrooge to write a festive children’s book?”
“Oh, shush,” she laughed, poking at your arm at the way you’d faked a gasp at her statement.
“I thought that, maybe, forcing myself to come back here would spur something on inside me, y’know?” Natasha shrugged. “This is my home. The people here gave me the happiest times of my life - the kind of things New York hasn’t given me. I thought maybe, I could find that so-called ‘Christmas magic’ here again.”
“The kind you used to see?”
“Mhm.”
“And have you found it?”
“I think so.”
–
It gave you a lot to think about. You could see that ounce of the old Natasha you knew before, in that time before it all changed. You can see that, perhaps, she truly has changed. Maybe that inner dialogue she was battling with had been defeated. You hadn’t even known it existed but seeing her now you can see that something had hurt her.
You saw the light in her eyes that you’d missed so much and things were beginning to seem that slightest bit clearer. You can’t ignore it all and forgive her, as much as you wish you could, without some form of a true explanation. An apology. A true, heartfelt, clarifying apology. You know you deserve it and now you’re letting yourself see that she deserves to be given the chance to gift you with it.
You’d been bombarded with questions after the shocked look on your friend's faces when they watched Natasha help you up from your seat. Of course, they wanted the gossip of the past twenty minutes.
“I think she’s different,” you mused. “But it’s somehow just as confusing. She seems different but I don’t know if I’m just seeing what I want to see. And then I think, if I actually should forgive her, shouldn’t I have some kind of apology to accept? Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“You need to calm down,” Kate stated. “No offence,” she added with a sheepish smile.
“You do,” Wanda nodded with a laugh at the way you rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to figure it all out in one night. Let's just enjoy tonight and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, you’re right. I-”
“Fancy seeing you here,” Yelena interrupted, sidling up beside you with her arm flinging over your shoulder. She, of course, was not surprised as she had been having the same run-downs from her sister. She was also a lot less merciful and spotted the ‘couples wreath making’ booth nearby and directed you in its general direction before anybody realised.
“Anybody want a go? Winners get a prize,” the man running the event announced as you approached, seemingly hoping to gain a final couple to join the others on the small stage behind him.
“These two do,” the blonde grinned, pushing you and the redhead into him with forceful hands on your backs.
“Oh- no- we’re not-”
“We have our final contestants,” he beamed, not listening to your protests whilst he guided you to your place.
“Yelena, you’re a menace to society,” Wanda uttered from where the group watched the two of you stand awkwardly.
“I’ve gotta get my entertainment from somewhere,” she shrugged with a laugh, finding great enjoyment in the way you fumbled around with the objects on the table to try and make something that resembled a holiday wreath.
“This goes here, right?” Natasha mumbled, attaching various decorations to the hoop in front of you. You only smirked at the innuendo you heard. She didn’t notice.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “I mean - I’m not an expert but wreaths usually do have some kind of foliage.”
“Shut up,” she laughed, poking an elbow into your side. Wanda smiled fondly at the sight.
“I don’t like her much but they do look kinda cute together,” Monica whispered to her and she nodded in agreement.
“My sister’s an idiot but she’s not a bad person,” Yelena spoke. “She just needs to be honest, not just with herself but with our little friend up there.”
“I hope they can work it out, for both of their sakes,” Carol added. They all watched on as you laughed with each other and worked easily as you attached ornaments to the masterpiece you’d been working on.
You won, of course, and Natasha braggingly lifted the wreath above her head to show it off.
“A perfect wreath from a perfect couple,” the man smiled and you both returned it uncomfortably.
He handed you a Santa hat before wishing you well.
“You’re joking?” you laughed. “This is the prize?”
“And the wreath, of course.”
“Oh, well that was definitely worth the ten bucks we had to pay,”
“Alright, let’s go,” Natasha chuckled, guiding you towards the group before you actually did get banned for life.
“Carol, you paid for this,” you frowned, holding up the hat defeatedly. Though it was Yelena’s idea, she pushed the payment onto somebody else, as she often does.
“I dunno, I think the entertainment was worth it,” she smirked. Natasha took it from you to pull it onto your head, swiping a piece of hair out of your face with the tips of her fingers gliding over your cheek.
“And you do look pretty cute in it.”
“Whatever,” you huffed, partly in annoyance and partly to disregard the way she made your heart beat aggressively against your ribs.
“Should we head back? I’m freezing,” Kamala asked and, after a just about awkward goodbye, you parted ways for the night.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff#au: home for christmas
166 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey first of all, thank you for your writing! I enjoy reading your work a lot. I wanted to request an addition to the older sister! Reader AU where the avengers manage to catch a person who used to be a high ranking officer in the red room and has a lot of intel. They specifically requests to see reader. And reader goes in and the person is smug and taunts r about everything she did under dreykov and what dreykov did to r. (Hints to a lot of sexual assult trauma, if you dont mind) and r has gotten used to the taunts, having bward plenty during her red room days. Carol though who was outside in the interrogation room with r’s sisters is livid. She is very protective of r and so she comes inside the room angry. But as the person keeps taunting and saying demeaning stuff about r u still remain unaffected but carol cannot take it. I mean thats the idea I had, you could do whatever u want with it! Thanks again. And sorry for the longg request
Mine to Protect
Family is More Than Blood Masterlist
There things in this story that be triggering of people, please advise the warnings!
Warnings: heavy description of past sexual experiences (usage of handcuffs, voyeurisms, power dynamic, ) implied sexual assault (uses it to taunt the Reader and Carol), original male character uses pet names from the reader, gross dirty talk, past trauma mentioned, self harm, death of an original character, mention of killing, Carol is hella pissed this this and protective.
Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader (platonic)
Word Count: 3.0k
All of your life, you’ve known pain. The pain was physical suffering\ or discomfort. It caused great trouble, and it could be mental or physical. Pain in the Red Room was negative. It was mystery hands that held you down and took whatever they wanted from you. Hours spent at training, at the ballet bar, or forced to kill your fellow Widows because of an order given. You hated pain and all the negative thoughts that came with it.
However, your life changed. It wasn’t contained by the Red Room. You had room to grow, dream, and create the person Dreykov tried to destroy. Now, pain wasn’t always negative. There was pain that morphed into pleasure when Carol bit down on your neck and soothed it with her tongue; a warmth would fill your belly. Sometimes, you went a little too hard as you trained against Steve and felt each punch from the super soldier, but your laughter bounced off the walls. Other times, you brunt your hand when cooking with Wanda or lose an arm wrestling match with Maria. All that pain was good, a reminder that you were free.
You sat outside. The brisk New York fall air filled your lungs. There was an ache in your fingers as you played the guitar. It would take time for callouses to form on your fingers. You heard the door open and close, but it didn’t stop you from humming to the song you were playing. It was Steve, Tony, and Maria. Oh boy. Stopping, you put the guitar beside you and gave the trio your attention. “Why do I smell trouble?” You asked.
“It’s not me,” Tony said, sniffing under his arm. “I showered.” You rolled your eyes at the billionaire.
“Does the name Andrei Lebedev?” You kept your face neutral, but your stomach dropped. That name would forever be in your nightmares.
“Yes, he was part of Dreykov’s second ring. He disappeared when the Red Room fell. He’s been on Melina’s list, but we haven’t been able to locate and deal with him,” you explained.
“Deal with him?” Steve questioned. “So would kill him if you found him?” You huffed in frustration.
“Don’t act all high and mighty, Rogers. These men have power even with the Red Room gone; they are better off dead.” With a vacant spot, there was a fight to be at the top. You and some of the other freed Widows were working on eliminating them before they could gain momentum. You looked at Maria. “What’s going on?” She handed you a file.
“Lebedev was found in New Asgard,” you opened it and saw a mug shot. The man was 6 feet, 5 inches tall. He had striking blue eyes. Unlike the last time you saw him, his dark brown was longer instead of neatly combed. However, a faint beard outlining his jaw gave you the idea that he was going somewhere safe to shave. “He was looking for asylum, but Val thought he was acting odd and brought him in for questioning.”
“Once they learned who he was, Fury had him transferred to us for questioning,” Tony added. You handed back the file.
“What does this have to do with me?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going.
“He won’t talk to anyone, not me, Maria, or Natasha,” Steve said. “He’s asking for you.” Fuck. Of course, he fucking was. God dammit. Why was Wanda away on a mission?
“What do we want from him?” You asked. Killing him would be the easiest solution.
“Fury wants whatever information we can get from him before sending him to the RAFT,” Maria explained. “Will you talk to him?” You sighed, stood up, and grabbed the guitar.
“Let’s get this over with.”
*
Sometimes you used pain to punish yourself. Your time at the tower was perfect. Self-inflected pain was the best tool you used to remind yourself of the past. Of the blood you shed and the countless lives ended by your hand.
On the other hand, pain helped ground you. A pinch of the skin on your thigh, biting down on your lip, or fingernails digging into your palm. Anything to help you stay present, preventing your mind from slipping away.
You stared at the door that separated you from him, nails digging into your palm. Your sisters and Carol will be watching. There was no fighting them on that. Sighing, you opened the door. “My malen’kiy pauk (little spider),” it had been a long time since you’ve heard someone call you that name. You closed the door. Immediately, pulling the chair away from the table to sit down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he continued. “But our last meeting was a little different,” he moved his handcuffed hands onto the table. The clash of metal echoed in the quiet room. “If I remember correctly, you were the one handcuffed. No matter to me,” he leaned forward. “I do love a change in a power dynamic.”
You crossed your arms against your chest, placed your right leg over your left, and leaned back into the chair. You remembered that day. Andrei Lebedev was part of Dreykov’s second circle or the vtoroy. These men were trusted as handlers and could leave the Red Room on missions or requests from Dreykov or his inner circle. But they were still seen as less than. They aimed to become part of the pervyy, the men closest to Dreykov. Although Dreykov was the face of the Red Room, it was impossible to run it without help. These men had the same amount of power as him; their word was God because you knew Dreykov knew about the order. A majority of the members of the party were killed in the Red Room explosion. The men you were after were part of the vtoroy. If the Red Room remained, Andrei would be part of the pervyy. He was a cable solider, a little hot-headed, but Dreykov would have crushed that spirit into submission. As a mission success, the pervyy granted Andrei’s request: a night with you. It wasn’t the only time you laid underneath this main.
“Being an Avenger looks good on you, kotenok (kitten). It fills you out nicely,” he groaned, licking his lips. “I bet you taste just as sweet. Do you want to be a good girl again? Just for me.” Still, you remained unfazed, face neutral. Men like this loved to talk, to inflate their ego with their sexual conquests. With time, he would reveal everything.
“I think about our time together a lot,” he smiled. “Your moans were music to my ears. They helped me through many lonely nights.” Lonely nights? The phrase stuck out to you for some reason. How many nights was he truly alone? He was freshly shaved and showered; you figured Val wouldn’t give him time alone to do all these things before locking him up. The man disappeared without a trace once the Red Room fell. Not even Melina, with her contacts, could find him. Andrei was bright but needed to be more smart to avoid capture. Who was helping him?
“Come on, baby,” he whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum. “Let me hear that voice again. You were very talkative when we last saw each other. I miss it,” his fingers tapped against the table. “Tell me, pretty, can anyone make you cum like I can?”
No one could see how your nails dug into your bicep, nails so sharp you knew it would pierce your skin. Pain. It grounded you, saved you from slipping into memories of that night, and kept your face stoic when all you wanted to do was scream.
*
As Carol recognized the true strength of her powers, she practiced keeping her emotions in check. Anger was powerful. Her rage could bring down skyscrapers, collapse entire planets, and turn the milky way into chaos if she wasn’t careful. Through her space travels, she witnessed horrible injustices that boiled her blood, ground her teeth, and left her fuming. Still, she kept her anger in check. However, she was struggling. The way this pig spoke to you was disgusting and vile, and you were just taking it. The only time Carol saw you move was when you first entered the room. She wasn’t sure if you were still breathing.
Unlike you, Natasha couldn’t stop pacing. She would get to one side of the viewing room, turn around, and repeat the process. Not even Maria could get her to stop; Carol believed it had to do with Natasha still being upset with her girlfriend. The youngest of the trio was quiet, playing with the ring all three of you shared. A quiet Yelena was never good, in Carol’s opinion. She saw the blonde tense up every time the man said something about her sister. Andrei laughed. “Why don’t you undo these cuffs? We can put on a show one more time before the cart me away. If I remember correctly, zaychonok (bunny), you loved having an audience,” he groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head. “My little slut. It got you so wet.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Carol mumbled. All she saw was red. Unlike before, no one was there to protect you; no one was there to tell him to stop. But she was here now. You were hers to protect. She felt her powers itching at the palm of her hands, begging to let loose. It was getting harder to control it, this anger growing inside her. She knew he was still taunting you; maybe she heard Natasha or Maria’s voice, but it was becoming white noise. All of it was pointless besides one singular thought. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” To her surprise, no one stopped her when she left the room.
*
The door busting open startled you. The hinges barely had enough strength to keep it upright as your girlfriend entered the interrogation room, eyes glowing. Andrei was pulled to his feet and pinned to the wall by her forearm. You saw her entire body shaky. “Oh, is this the pet’s new master,” he teased. There was a shake in his voice as Carol was cutting off air into his lungs. “Tell me, do you pass her around like her old master, or do you keep her to yourself?”
“If you say one more word,” she hissed. “I will crush your windpipe.” You stood up, barely making a sound, but Andrei saw you.
“Oh, this is your lover, isn’t it?” He laughed, gasping slightly. “I’m jealous,” he taunted. “She is a gem—a queen among women. Tell me,” he whispered. “Can you make her scream like I can?”
“I won’t hesitate to paint this wall red with your blood,” you wanted her to do it so this nightmare could end. But it wasn’t the mission. “You can’t hurt her,” Carol continued, putting more pressure on his neck. The man gasped. “She is mine to protect, and I will kill all of you if I have to to keep her safe.” The man smiled, and for the first time entering this room, a chill went down your spine.
“Oh, you think with her living with Earth’s mightiest heroes, she’ll be safe; you are wrong.” Got him. It only took Carol intervening, but he was ready to talk. Gently, you placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. Her eyes flickered to you.
“It’s okay,” you forced a smile. “Let him go.” You saw the internal debate happen in her eyes. Soon, she released him and threw him back into the chair.
“Power dynamic,” he said, rubbing his throat. A bruise was already forming. “I guess I was wrong about you two.” You sighed and sat down, this time closer to the table. Carol closed the door but stayed in the room, standing in the corner. Your arms were still crossed, and your nails again found the indent in your arm. “You got yourself an impressive guard dog over there. She needs a lesson in obedience.”
“I don’t own her, and she doesn’t own me,” you said. “Who helped you avoid detection after all this time?” He gasped.
“I’m offended you don’t think I could do it alone.”
“You aren’t smart enough, Lebedev,” you deadpanned. “So give me names, or my guard dog will attack.” His eyes glanced at Carol in the corner, and you saw him gulp in fear. Instead of talking, he leaned forward, faces inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your skin. A sharp pinch of your skin kept you present.
“Answer me this, kotenok (kitten). Do you feel safe here?”
“Is that a threat?” You countered.
“Merely a question,” he said. “Do you feel safe here with your sisters close by, Captain America as an ally, and Tony Stark’s super fancy AI keeping watch?” He slammed his hands down, but the sound didn’t scare you. Your nails dug deeper. “Do you feel safe?” He asked again. “Because Oriel Sergeev wasn’t the only person upset when the Red Room fell from the sky.” Oriel Sergeev? He was the man who created that ‘fun’ room.
“Who is helping you?” You asked again. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the chair.
“I don’t kiss and tell; you should know that. The Red Room provided stability, a balance, and you and those cunts you call sisters broke it,” your jaw clenched. He huffed out a laugh at your reaction. “It’s only a matter of time before bad girls like you get punished.”
*
You watched Maria and a few other agents lead Andrei to transport. A body collided with you that almost sent you falling to the ground, but Carol’s arm kept you upright. It was Yelena. Her jasmine scent perfume invaded your senses, grounding you further. “Ugh,” you groaned. “I hated that. I hated the way he talked to you.” You chuckled, kissing the top of her head.
“You aren’t the only one,” Natasha said, and you looked past Yelena as the redhead joined the small group. “Carol beat me to it. I was about to go in there and kick his ass.” You heard Carol laugh behind you, kissing the side of your head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m,” you stopped before you lied to them. “No, but I will be,” you sighed, ending the hug with Yelena. “I think I need a shower, then I’ll start feeling better.”
“Do you want me to join you?” Carol asked. You shook your head.
“I just need a moment by myself,” you smiled. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” As you turned to walk back to your room, Yelena grabbed your hand. Spinning you back around and flipping your arm to show everyone the cut on your arm.
“Your bleeding,” she said, and you pulled your arm back.
“It’s nothing, and it will heal by the time I get in the shower,” you saw the unasked questions from all three of them. “I needed to ground myself when I was in there with him. That’s all. I promise I’m okay, and I’ll come to you guys if I need anything.”
*
A towel was tightly secured around your body as you stepped out of the bathroom. You hated the way his words crawled underneath your skin. No matter how frequently you scrubbed your skin raw, you felt his hands on you. There was a part of you that wanted to track down his escort van and kill him, to watch his blood stain the pavement. Or maybe have Melina take care of it. But you knew if one of the Widows took the job, it would get traced back to you. Still wet from the shower, you sat on your bed and picked up your phone. The number you dialed wasn’t saved in your phone. It was a number you had memorized as Widows kept giving it to you. She answered on the second ring. “My favorite Black Widow,” she said. “What do I owe the pleasure? Have you considered my offer?” You sighed.
“No, Valentina, I’m still not joining your team. I need a favor.” You were speaking as you could hear cars driving by.
“I’m not a charity, darling. Favors will cost you/” You nodded.
“I know, and I’m willing to pay for it,” you stood up and walked into your closet. “I need to put on a hit. His name is Andrei Lebedev. He is currently in SHIELD custody and on his way to the RAFT. I need it done without using any of the Widows you have employed, and not a single agent hurt.” Valentina laughed.
“You are making a lot of demands for someone not in charge,” you dropped the towel and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
“I always repay my debts, you know this?” This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked a favor from her. Her contacts ran deeper than Melina’s, and in this world, information was valuable. But you knew she would do it and come back to you when she needed something. The Widows that worked for her always told you what they did. You had enough dirt to bury the director, but it would hurt your fellow Widows.
“This will cost you, but I’ll get it done.”
“Thank you.”
“Aw, don’t go getting soft on me,” you rolled your eyes. “My offer is always on the table for you. That will never expire,” you huffed.
“Bye, Valentina.” You hung up the phone before she could respond. You refused to join her every time she asked, even when she proclaimed how much money you could make with your skill set. You feared it would be impossible to say no to her one day.
Two days passed when Maria announced that Andrei Lebedev was killed; no agents were hurt in the ambush. The agent’s eyes never left yours when she told everyone the news. Maybe it was bad you didn’t care if she believed you or not when you claimed you had no part in his death—effortlessly passing blame to whoever helped him. His death was one you never lost sleep over. Like you told Steve, these men were better off dead.
#family is more than blood au#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers x you#carol danvers x y/n#black widow sisters#yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader#yelena belova x reader#natasha romanoff x reader
192 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ronique
Ronique
breathing-in-waves
Love will 𓂀 find you
becasbelt
needs more salt
cointriicked
WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON?
loganecnkloster
Untitled