#dave york f reader
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Wholehearted Attention
A Dave York Fan Fic
Stabby it’s been to long. I’ve missed writing Dave & I have lots of ideas for him in draft. But then someone sent me this photo & the idea formed itself & here we are… yep a Dave York Saturday is needed by all for some relief.
Synopsis:- You have had a stressful day at work & are having some me time in the bath, when Dave gets home & he is happy to encourage you.
Word Count:-3700
Warnings:- ALL OF THEM!!! seriously DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral both, mentions of piv, establish relationships, smut, swearing, cum tasting, squirting, drinking, shower sex, mentions of erotic literature, self pleasure, toys. Yea we are full on talking Dave at his Davest. Daddy is used.
God I’m so happy I wrote this & that Dave gets all of this.
Thanks for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome. I hope you enjoy.
“Thank fuck” you sigh as you walk through the door. The most hellish day of work is over. Presentations just kept coming at meetings. Phone calls & emails never stopped. You are glad to be kicking those heels off. You need a calm night a really calming night. You don’t know if your partners going to be home at all tonight, his work means his returns can be a little bit all over the place.
You know what you need. Your parents would scoff but you don’t care. You pour a large glass of wine & light a couple of candles as the bubble bath starts to fill up. Jasmine & cherry blossom. The same fragrance as your perfume which this year they made into bath products too. You also click the radio on to listen to some smooth rnb music as you undress & step into the tub. Nice & hot & ready for you to have a long soak. You when you have these moments of calm, always bring a small table with you, to put the wine, a small towel, your phone & a book on. The book is one of the items your parents would disapprove of. It’s called The Captains Desire. It’s pure smut. Men can watch porn all they want but women, as well as that, get to read & imagine it. You know you are up to the part where it’s about to get very hot. So this time you’ve also brought your bullet vibrator with you just to stimulate yourself enough. But before you enjoy your wine & read you make sure to wash yourself while the water is still warm. Steam comes off you as well as the tub.
15mins into your bath & You are lick your lips as you read, getting lost in the pages. It’s hot. It’s at the point where you want to enjoy it & so you slowly put your glass of wine down & grab the vibrator. No lube needed your in a hot steamy bath & you click onto button 1. You gasp as the vibrations start against your clit & you turn the page ready to see how the captain will respond to the tease in the book. But then the worst thing happens. As you select the second pulse setting your vibrator dies.
“What no!” You put your book down quickly & grab the towel to dry it off. You click again to start it up & it goes for 10 seconds before stopping again. You even try swapping the betteries round (down worry your hands are dry your aren’t stupid) but to no avail. “Fuck”
You say as you slam the toy down on the towel. It hadn’t even got you started. You sink completely under the bubbles & water & close your eyes for a minute. Trying to calm down. You know you need to come up for air soon, but your left hand has started to pleasure yourself underneath the suds. Your clit is so needy. You slowly push yourself up out of the water, eyes still closed & reach for the towel on the side.
It’s not there.
You start to panic.
You’ve got soap in your eyes & you don’t want it to sting. But before you can thrash around in the tub you feel the small towel Grace across your face. Your grip it & give yourself a proper dry before opening your eyes.
Your partner is home. He’s in a light blue shirt & black trousers, with a silver buckled belt. He’s home & he’s looking at you in awe.
“I’m home sweetheart”
“Dave” you lift your head a bit more & he leans his head down to softly kiss you. Your wet hand cups his face as he starts to breathe heavily. However you can already tell he’s not up for getting in the bath with you, well not yet anyhow. He’s not wearing a tie, he likes to be pulled by it from time to time with you just to give you some control.
“Having a relaxing evening”
“Very until my bullet stopped”
“Naughty, touching yourself without me” he mocks. Dave likes complete control, even over your self pleasure.
“Well you read that book & tell me if it’s not sexy” you roll your eyes at him, put the towel down now, your face is soap & bubble free & sip on your wine. Dave raises an eyebrow.
“Is this like 50 shades?”
“Ha” you scoff. “They wish they had written anything like this. This isn’t a romance this is desire & let’s just say that one of the book reviews for it online someone said they actually couldn’t recharge their dildo enough” Dave scoff at you.
“The captains desire” he reads before reading the blurb. “Captain Flores is on a survival mission that goes wrong & he is left with just his lookout Emilia Rutton, a woman who swore men off 6 years ago. But survival will mean much more than just getting out of this war zone alive. Hmmm doesn’t sound that smutty to me”
You sigh & look at Dave.
“Then read some to me”
“What?
“Read the next couple of pages to me & let’s see how it makes you feel” you’re still sipping on your wine.
“I’m not reading that” Dave put the book down.
“Why not? Are you afraid the Captain Flores is better at seducing than you?” Dave gives you a face like thunder. No one’s ever challenged his powers of seduction. You know he’s sometimes on mission where he needs to flirt kiss or sleep for information or for the kill. You’ve learnt to accept that over the last couple of years. You also know he’s cut back on doing that a lot since he was able to fill your cunt on tap.
“Didn’t you fall into my arms at that club?” He starts to clear the small table items off it putting them on the bathroom counter.
“True but if you’d not said you have a sour cocktail because you probably are just so sweet I’d have never sucked you cock in the disabled toilet that night”
“Ahhh memories, we should go out & do that again”
“Dave were banned” you both laugh.
“True but it was worth it”
Dave then sits on the cleared table at the end of the bath & takes the glass of wine from your hand. You rest your arms on the end on the bath lying on your front. As you turned Dave saw your arse come out of the water for a few seconds. He also loves that your head is directly in line with his crutch, so Dave man spreads as he sits on the little table & strokes your face.
“I’m going to read a page at random, okay? let’s see how it goes” he says. Your eyes light up. You know that even if there is no sex in a chapter it’s full of sexual tension from chapter 4 onwards of imaginary scenarios.
“Ahem” Dave clears his voice & randomly opens a page. You lick your lips hoping for him to read something dirty.
“Flores… she moaned begging for more. Feeling the way he licked her pussy dry… wooo” have slams the book shut but keeps a finger in that page.
“Problem Dave?” You ask like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, all innocently.
“Thought you said this was smut, I’ve just read the next line. This is worse than some hardcore porn”
“Dave”
“I’m serious” he shakes his head. “& yet you can just casually sit in a bus with this in your hand & imagine all of that” you nod. “Damn women are built different.”
“Keep reading Dave im sure when you get to the captain you’ll sound so suave” Dave pulls a face at you.
“Okay” he slowly opens the book back up & you can see him try to see what’s coming next.
“Don’t spoil it for yourself Dave” you chuckle & smack his knee.
“Just wanted to see that’s all.” & he spreads his legs a bit more continuing to read. “Emilia knew it wouldn’t be long before she squirted covering the captains mustache. His left hand was fisting her arse as they lay on the hut bed. The broken mirror on the floor meant Emilia could see the captains angle. How he adored her. How his face was glistening each lick of her clit, each motion of her arse pucking had her moaning his name like this was the last time she’d ever be fucked. Her naked body still damp from being caught in the rain…” you are feeling aroused & you suddenly realise Dave is too. He can’t spread his legs anymore than that but there is a much larger bulge in his trousers than usual. Hes palming it as he reads. “… rain that they may have to shower in afterwards. Both of them are thinking this. There are few facilities in this shack. Both Flores & Emilia have wondered how good their naked body’s would work if they grabbed the soap, to clean each other only to just get dirty again…” his hand undoes his belt & the top button of his trousers just to stop his growing erection splitting the trousers. “Emilias body rolled feeling every sensation, not worried anymore if she’d suffocate the captain, although she was concerned as she now knew she could squirt that she might down him… oooh fuck” Dave’s hands tremble almost making him drop the book. You’ve slowly leaned forward unzipped his fly & started stroking his penis. “Oooh baby”
“Don’t think that was in that chapter Dave” you say long firm strokes get him fully erect in a few seconds.
“Who gives a fuck about a book, when I can have the real thing” he stands up & drops his trousers & boxers to the floor & strokes his own penis.”you now have my whole hearted attention” he slides the table forward, puts the book on the floor & strokes his angry head against you lips. “Do you want to make your daddy happy?” You nod & start to lick around the angry purple head of his penis now he’s sat back down. The pre cum is salty & tangy.
“Ooh sweetheart” his hips already bolting. “No wonder you take long baths if you read that kind of stuff” he caresses your face as you start to slurp taking him into your mouth further. The grip on your chin is firm but you know it will get harder. He fills your mouth. Saliva coating his length. Your eyes wide each time he hits the back of your throat. He’s on the edge of the table now because he wants to be ever further down your throat. The noises you are making are forcing Dave to concertrate, he doesn’t want to cum in the first few minutes, but the feel of your plump lips engulfing him make his eyes roll back. His grip on your chin gradually getting tighter.
“You like making daddy happy, fuck baby, your mouth was made for my cock, fuck.” He’s growling. He briefly lets go of your chin to remove his blue shirt so he is also naked before both his hands return to your head one on the chin & one runs it’s way through your hair before he encourages more movement, more bobbing, because he wants to see you as a spluttering mess when he ejaculates.
“You gonna swallow it all when the time comes, sweetheart? Is my good little girl gonna make me happy? Bet your soaked even without being in the bath” he whines as he holds your chin in place. You nod & he pushes down harder. One hand of yours helping his penis as you choke around it. The other has your fingers digging into your thigh. He’s panting hard, his moans echo around the bathroom. The feel of his length inside your mouth & the way your suck & twirl your talented tongue, has him struggling to hold on.
“Fuck baby, ooh shit oooohhhh mmmmmm shit fuck more more I can’t I… I… oooh jesus!” Dave screams your name. His ball almost burst. Your mouth spills his seed as it flows into your mouth & it doesn’t stop. Often Dave will trickle & then will give you some more when he fucks you in which ever position he likes that night. But no, your gagging & you swallow some as you remove his penis from your mouth. His cum escapes as he sits back & let’s go if your head.
“Fuck oooh fuck” he pants as he try’s to calm down, he’s still hard so you grip him again & slowly start licking off his cum & your spit from his length, you chin getting even more covered in the residue. “Well sweetheart you do have the magic touch.” He smirks as you let his cock go from your mouth as is starts to soften with a pop. “You did miss a spot” Dave says. You know you have, you can feel it on your face. His salty seed & your saliva. You take your thumb & push it back into your mouth.
“Tastes like heaven Dave” you moan & lean your head over the edge of the bath once you are done. Dave thinks your going into for a kiss but you aren’t. He’s a little perturbed when you move your head back, but then his eyes widen. You blow a spit Bubble & then gulp it down to create another one.
“Oooh my little slut you have all my attention” you both know his cum is mixed in with your spit as you keep regurgitating the bubble. The 5th time, it’s large & sloppy & you let it pop so your lips are covered by the moisture. You’ve never seen Dave move in for a kiss so quickly in your life. His tongue & yours working together, tasting the tangy mess your collective bodily fluids have made. No romance novel would ever cover this moment. He’s hungry for you despite you satisfying him.
“Want more Dave?” You mumble eventually as your lips break.
“Just a taste sweetheart, just a taste” both his arm go underneath you & with his magnificent strength he hoists your naked dripping body out of the bath so you glisten in front of him. He licks his lips & he cups your left breast. “We don’t want you wrinkling sweetheart do we, not while daddy is ravenous” he raises an eye brow before smacking your bum. Your little squawk has him all excited, as he then takes a few steps back & lays on the floor.
You know what he wants, & he expects you to know. His crutch & penis are so inviting to ride on but Dave wants you to take pride of place on your favourite seat. You’re still standing & walking up the side of him. You’ve not towelled off. You’re still dripping but that’s what he likes. If Dave had his way, he’d have you as a stay at home partner walking around in just the matching underwear he buys you so then he can shred it from your body when he needs a release & he can fuck your body until you physically can’t cum anymore. Dave is that man & damn you’ll play the needy bratty slut for him on command. You secretly enjoy it more than you let off but it does also stop Dave’s eyes wandering else where.
“How much of a taste would you like daddy?” You say as you stand across him. He’s looking up. He could try & make eye contact but he’s really looking straight up your legs, & past your thighs to see what your index finger is doing to your clit already. He’s not sure if it’s your arousal or bath water that’s dripping onto his face. He doesn’t give a fuck. You want this too.
“I want it all, I want you to forget your name & give me a facial” his hands are running up your lower legs, stopping just below your knees. He knows your ticklish behind them but he stops as you lower yourself slowly ready to sit on Dave’s face.
“Say please daddy”
“Oooh no sweetheart, you should be the one asking for it” those two firm hands pull you straight over his head & he sniffs at your sex. “Oooh fuck baby,” & he licks his first stripe over your clit.
“Mmm yeaa” you moan back. He’s going in circles around it. His tongue is even more magnificent than yours.
“Ddd…Dave” your whingeing already. Dripping onto his lips feeling every motion.
“On all fours” you hear as Dave grips your arse.
“Hmmm” Dave spanks your bum.
“All fours sweetheart, I know what you like.”
“What do you…. Ahhh” Dave swats your bum again meaning you jolt forward. He moves his head to the side so you can see him speak to reveal something you thought he didn’t know.
“I’ve seen you, using that wand on all fours, a pillow between your legs to hump so you can feel the friction. I know it gets you off. I’ve heard you scream my name as you do it” you blush the deepest shade of red. How does Dave know this? & yet the idea of him spying on you arouses you even more. “I want you to face fuck me”
“Dave.. I…” a firm smack connects with your arse. You moan, arousal drips onto his neck.
“It’s not a requested, Daddy said he wanted to give you his whole hearted attention.” His fingers dig into your bum & start to move you in place.
You get on all fours & the tip of his nose rubs against your clit as he squeezes you down onto his face. Both his hands gripping just bellow your arse cheeks as you moan.
“Fuck Dave… oooh god” his oral onslaught starts. “Mmmm oooh yess yess” your hesitant at first., you don’t want to suffocate him underneath you, your looking up at the bathroom sink, your feet starting to twitch in pleasure. It’s only a few more seconds before you start to move. Your hips rolling. The anti-clockwise motion pushing onto his face. He laps away at your cunt. Suddenly your no longer worried & you start to move like you do when your on top for missionary or when you have your own time & his pillow between your legs.
“Ooooohhh yes yes yes.” You moan as your body jiggles & Dave sticks his thumb inside your arsehole. “Yea baby yea, I like that fuck ooooh yes yes yes” you can’t control your moans. Your body twitches as your cunt gets devoured by the best oral lover(or any sexual lover for that matter) that you’ve ever had in your life. He looks after you & the way his hand is now caressing your cheeks, while the other now has another finger in your arse has you screaming loudly.
“Fuck daddy yes fuck fuck you gonna make me cum you gonna make me squirt, oooh baby more more more more oooh fuck yes.” You convulse & feel everything explode inside you. With an earthy groan you climax & cover his face, drenching him. You hear him splutter a little as your body slows down, but then as you go to give him air he keeps you in place, lepping every single drop that you just squirted all over him. “Oh fuck yes that’s it” his head is fully locked between your twitching thighs as you calm down.
“Good girl” you hear from between your legs. A softer pat of your arse happens & he helps you crawl off him onto the bathroom floor. You rest your head next to his as you both lie there exhaling for air for different reasons. You turn your head & see his glistening face & he laughs.
“I made a mess”
“That you did” it’s a delicious kiss he gives you as you lean in. You can taste your own saltyness on his lips & skin. You slowly start to caress his body, working your way down to his happy trail & eventually start stroking his once again hard penis. Pre cum dripping from the tip as he cups your breasts. This is no longer a soft kiss, your making out on the bathroom floor. Dave’s moaning more than you are as you both sit up & he pulls your body in close, he can feel your heart race. Each thud making him want you more. He slips a finger inside your cunt just to keep you moist for the next part of the evening.
“I think we need to clean this up sweetheart.” He says eventually his lips leaving yours but his index finger shhing you before you can say a word. “Didn’t your book talk about those two having a shower & exploring each others bodies after an adventure?”
“Yes Dave it did”
“Well let’s get dirty while getting clean, because you face fucking me is the greatest adventure of my day” Dave slowly stands up & helps you up off the floor slapping your arse once more. “I mean I once was an army captain, maybe in should make you call me that instead of daddy?”
“Don’t tempt me captain,” you reply as you both step into the shower. “I might need to be punished for breaking your rules” steam fills the walk in shower as the hot water flows & Dave pushes you against the glass as the spray hits you both.
“Well if good girls are gonna read smut, they are going to get all they deserve” Dave growls eyes filled with desire. As his lips find yours for a hungry kiss you gasp, he’s filled you to the brim, your special spot quivering I’m just the one motion. “But my girl, she likes to make me happy” he says before his rhythm picks up not just in the shower, but in bed afterwards for the next 2 days.
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Stockholm's Syndrome
Chapter 4
Pairing: Dave York x female reader.
Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18.
⚠️⚠️⚠️Warning! This is a fic about Dave York. Dave York comes with his own warning so do not say I didn't warn you. ⚠️⚠️⚠️
Words: about 2K
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Masterlist ✨
Dave had texted you the night of your birthday party, as he said he would. And over the last few days, you had texted each other every now and then. Mostly him asking what you were doing, though you were sure he somehow knew exactly what you were up to, almost at all hours of the day. Or you asked how his day was going and or if he wanted to stop by later that night. Most nights, he would stop by, either for a quick fuck but sometimes he would fuck you slowly and for hours. Learning what made you moan and what made you scream out his name louder than you had before. And he loved to make you scream; it seemed to only spur him on and fuck you harder and faster, or slower and deeper. Not that you were complaining. He always left you satiated and tired. But he did always leave. He never stayed the night. And you were too chicken shit to ask him to. Because hearing him say no would probably hurt more than him leaving after he had fucked you senseless.
Yet again, it had been a few days since you had seen Dave; he had said he would be going away for a few days, but that didn't stop you from missing him. You missed him more than you should have. You had tried not to fall for him; you really had. But it had been futile to resist. He consumed your every waking hour. You found yourself daydreaming about him on numerous occasions.
Even as you were walking down the aisles of the grocery store, you thought about what it would be like to be walking next to him, picking out items to put in the basket for you to go home together and cook a meal before devouring each other afterwards. Against your better judgment, you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text. It couldn’t hurt now, could it?
When will you be back?
A low buzzing sound sounded out from an aisle or two behind you. And for a split second, you hoped he was there at the store, but you shook your head as if to clear that silly thought out of your mind. He wasn't here; why would he be here? Your phone pinged, and you scrambled to open the text message, hoping it was from Dave.
Sooner than you think. Be patient.
A big smile spread across your lips as you read the text over and over. Your only thought was, how soon was soon? But you refrained from sending another text asking just that question and put the phone back in your purse as you walked into the next aisle.
Stopping in front of the shampoo section, you couldn't reach the higher shelf where your favorite shampoo was. It never failed to surprise you why they insisted on putting it so goddamn high up! It wasn’t like you were abnormally short. You were 5 feet, 3 inches. That wasn’t short. But they insisted on stocking some of your most parched items on the highest shelves. And it never ceased to annoy the living hell out of you. You were just about to give up or maybe even climb the shelf when you felt a presence behind you, but you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You already knew exactly who was standing behind you. He moved closer until he was flushed up against your back, his cologne wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you leaned back onto him as his hands snaked their way around your waist. His hard cock pressed against your ass. And a smile spread across your lips just at the thought of him getting hard at the sight of your back. Sure, the short sundress you had on probably helped—probably not a dress to be going shopping in at this time of the day—but it had been another excruciatingly hot day, and even wearing only this, sweat still coated your skin. The only slight reprieve from the heat was being in the AC-controlled store.
“Did you miss me?” He asked, his voice low, and his breath fanned over my neck and left side of my face as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss just below my ear. He groaned in your ear and pushed himself harder into you. Letting you feel his hard cock pressing into you. A soft moan slipped from your lips.
“Yes,” you said, already breathless and your breathing becoming labored. Just having him close to you again, you sighed a breath of relief. ”What are you doing here?” You asked and turned your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder.
“I had to see you. I just got back into town. Now be a good girl and don’t move.” One of his hands slid from your waist down to your thigh. The store wasn’t that crowded, but there were still some people walking up and down the aisles. You wondered if you should tell him to stop. But the idea of getting caught—the idea of him taking you right then and there—was too thrilling to refuse. Not that you were sure you even had it in you to refuse him. If this was what he wanted, then this was what he would get.
You spread your legs slightly as his hand moved up your thigh, closer to your aching core. Where you needed his touch the most. His finger grazed over your clothed pussy, and he pressed down on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips.
“We don’t want to attract any attention and get kicked out before I’ve made you cum, now do we?” He asked, his lips closed to your ear, and his teeth grazed gently along your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin at the sound of his voice and the way his fingers kept sliding up and down your pussy. You could feel the wetness growing on your panties as your slick began to trickle out of you. He had you turned on and wet beyond normal within mere seconds.
“No. I’ll be good. I promise.” You vowed. Sliding your panties to the side, he let one finger slide in between your wet lips.
“Already so wet. Fuck, this turns you on, doesn’t it? You want me to fuck you here in this store right now, don’t you? His voice was low and almost threatening, but it was like music to your ears. That was exactly what you wanted. What you needed. You needed to feel him inside of you now. You didn't want to wait until you got back to your apartment, or fuck even out to his car if he had it parked out back. You needed him to take you here now, with the risk of getting caught only spurring you on.
“Yes, please, Dave, fuck me here, now,” you pleaded with him. Begged him to give you what you so desperately needed.
“You’re so goddamn filthy and depraved, and I fucking love it. Bend over and show me that sweet ass of yours, and I'll bury my cock in your deliciously tight pussy.” Without any protest, you did as he asked, bending over slightly and pushing your ass out and into his now rock-hard cock that was pressing against his lacks.
As one hand kept sliding up and down your slit and every now and then pressed against your throbbing clit, his other hand left your waist and you heard the telltale sound of a zipper being unzipped before he lined himself up with your hole and pushed all the way inside in one slow thrust.
You gripped the shelf in front of you for support as he began to move in and out while his fingers still pressed and circled your clit. The tightness within began to build fast. And you knew he would have you cum within mere moments.
“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice strained from thrusting into you hard and slow and from him holding back. “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”
“You, oh fuck. You Dave, only you,” and that was the truth. Ever since your first encounter, you hadn’t even looked at another man and found them attractive. All you ever thought about was Dave. How he knew just how to make you melt into putty in his hands. How he managed to make you do things you had secretly always wanted to do but had always been too afraid to ask for with any previous partner. He just knew what you wanted and needed without you having to ask.
“Fuck, your sweet pussy is squeezing me so damn tight. I’m going to need you to cum. I won’t last long.” His hot breath on your neck as he kept thrusting into you in slow and hard thrusts was like throwing gasoline on an already smoldering fire. “Cum for me, baby.”
That last sentence—him calling you baby and him pressing down while circling your clit is what finally sent you. The rush of sensation hit you hard and fast as you came. You bit down on your lower lip to keep from screaming out his name. Though you were sure he would have loved that. You, however, would have never been able to show your face at this store again, and it was the one closest to your apartment.
“Fuuuck!” He gasped and pushed as deep into you as he could, and then he came too. Pouring himself into you. His cock twitched a few times before he stilled, and he leaned his head against your shoulder as he breathed slowly. “You will be the death of me.”
He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants after he had repositioned your panties back into place. You turned around to finally look at him.
“Me? You are the one who snuck up on me while I was just minding my business, shopping,” you said, smiling sweetly at him. “How is it that you knew exactly where I was, by the way?"
“I may have put in a tracker on your phone,” he confessed. He looked you up and down before meeting your eyes. You didn’t care that he had done that; to be honest, the moment you realized he was behind you, that had been your first thought—that he may have actually been spying on you and keeping track of you. And you found it cute in a sick and twisted way. But then again, nothing about whatever this was that you had with Dave was normal by any measure.
“Hmm… I thought you might have.”
“You’re not pissed?” He asked and looked at you, almost shocked. Like he had expected you to lose your marbles when you found out.
“Nope, and just so you know, I found the cameras in my apartment too, and no, I’m not mad about them either. I find it kind of endearing that you went through all that trouble just so that you could keep an eye on me.” You wanted him to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you did not care or were mad at him about it all. No matter how messed up it all was or how you two had stumbled upon each other, you were glad you had.
“Wow, you’re almost as fucked up as me, aren’t you?"
“Almost,” you agreed.
He grabbed your hand and started to pull out towards the exit.
“But my groceries!” You called out.
“Fuck the groceries. You can come back tomorrow and finish your shopping. I’m taking you out to dinner, then we’re going back to your place, where I tend to have my desert in private."He smirked at you as he looked behind him to see your reaction. A big smile grew on your lips as he continued to pull you by your hand out of the store and over to where his car was parked.
When he reached his car, he walked with you over to the passenger side and opened the door for you.
“Such a gentle man,” you mocked, but not in a mean way. In a playful way. Because the first time he put you in his car, you had been unconscious. And you were almost sure he had put you in the trunk that night.
"Oh, I most definitely am not, most of the time. But for you, I am willing to make an exception,” he replied with that half smirk upon his lips that sent a shiver down your spine and had your body humming again. Desperate and wanting for more and anything this man would give you. And now he wanted to take you out for dinner. But after that, you were sure he was going to give you the best night of your life.
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Masterlist
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Trick Or Treat? - A Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York Halloween One Shot 🎃
Summary: It's Halloween and you're settling in for a creepy night alone with a scary movie, when three masked intruders break in. And they have more tricks than treats in mind for you. 🎃
Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)
Word Count: 10.5k ish - 'Issa long one. Better grab some spooky snacks. 👻
Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶🌶 "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here
Explicit: DARK/DDDNE/implied noncon/implied dubcon/CNC/free use/anything goes/implied forced/established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/squirting/anal play/restraint/dirty talk/derogatory/some mild degradation/some mild assault in the form of slaps, scratching, biting/jump scares/mentions of clowns & a clown mask image below the cut - eh, some people hate 'em. Dave York comes with his own warning. 🥴
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don't come at me; you've been plenty warned.
Author's Note: Happy Halloween!! 🎃 I'm fully aware that this might not be for everyone, and that's totally fine. You can just move on quietly if it's not for you. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Couldn't think of any better trio of Pedro Boys to mess with you on Halloween, other than Frankie, Joel & Dave.
Enjoy! 🖤🎃
MASTERLIST
The lounge is dimly lit.
Shadows curated from the trenches of nightmares claw across the walls as you perch on the edge of your worn-out couch, crowded with the mass invasion of mis-matched cushions.
The eerie glow from the flat screen casts an otherworldly pallor upon your face, accentuating the nervous flicker around your eyeballs that are wide with bulging scleras; watery white orbs in the dark.
The room is drenched in an unsettling silence, broken only by the haunting soundtrack of the horror movie slashing its way across your screen, from which you can’t tear away your fixed gaze.
Every creak of the house, every groan in the walls, sends fleeting shivers down your spine as you clutch one of the cushions tightly, pulled further into the chilling world of the movie.
It's Halloween night and the bowl, brimming full of sugared candy treats for the Witching Hour to begin, is resting languidly on the coffee table ready for the barrage of trick-or-treaters bound to harangue you all night long. Until you stop answering the door and devour them all for yourself. It always happens.
But, as you watch the movie, engrossed in the suspenseful carnage that is about to erupt, slowly bringing mouthfuls of warm, buttery homemade popcorn up to your mouth, you start to regret it.
You always do this to yourself; cue the manic paranoia afterwards, lying in bed and getting freaked out by strange noises rattling around in the house. Turning the light off and running up the stairs really, really fast so a crazed, masked killer - that is purely a figment of your over active imagination, whose just endured copious hours of jump scares - doesn't get you.
As the movie’s tension mounts, so too does your own. Your heart races in sync with the frantic, heavy beats of the ominous bass that vibrates in through your toes. Fear creeps up your spine with icy tendrils, constricting your chest with each suspenseful twist.
A young Jamie Lee Curtis is running for her life across the screen; a giant man in a boiler suit and waxy mask wielding a kitchen knife is chasing her, and you're yelling at her to run.
Run bitch!
You're invested wholly in the terror of the movie. Your fingernails leave crescent imprints on the fabric of the cushion you clutch, as if they could anchor you to reality amidst the growing dread that consumes you.
The room’s shadows deepen, feel heavier somehow in the darkest corners and seem to slink and shift in the periphery of your vision. Your mind plays tricks on you, conjuring grotesque shapes from the inky void to float towards you, but any sense of your own mild panic is marred by the screaming on the screen that pulls your attention away.
The rest of the house is unusually quiet around you, its existence ebbing away. Oblivious to the malevolent, unseen eyes that seem to pierce through the darkness, you continue to fill your mouth with the salty, puffed kernels.
"Run, why are you standing there, just fucking run!" You crunch to Jamie Lee; your eyes wide and the music hammering around you loudly as the killer is in the house with her, and she hasn't realised it yet.
Oh, the irony.
A figure continues to emerge from the swirly shadows, edging towards you in the dark where the light of the TV hasn't reached. It moves with a haunting grace as if it's part of the very darkness it inhabits. You feel hairs prickle up on the back of your neck as you watch the tension on the screen play out.
You know how this shit goes down; you've seen this movie millions of times, but it still gets you. Still makes you jump out of your skin at the right parts and-
"BOO!"
A maniacal laugh pierces your eardrum from behind and you screech in absolute terror.
The bowl of popcorn ends up all over the floor as you launch yourself up from the couch like you’ve been tasered, turning and screaming as you hear that sinister laugh morph into one you begin to recognise.
Big, splayed hands reach for you from within the dark and you squeal louder, backing up as the sinister marauder advances on you.
"Hey it's me, muñeca. It's me!" But he's still laughing and it's not fucking funny.
Your heart is trying to make a dash out of your throat and you swear to God some pee might’ve trickled down your leg.
"What the Hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!"
You slap his hands away angrily as he reaches for your shaky ones, and the light from the TV assures you it's Frankie, still chuckling to himself from behind a cheap, neon-coloured clown mask.
"Jesus Christ," you sigh, catching your breath.
You're still trying to choke your thrashing heart back down into your chest. It's not going down without a rowdy fight apparently as you cough and splutter. "Why would you scare me like that?! What are you wearing?" You query with a shudder as he pulls off the grotesque mask.
It's a sinister, somewhat ugly clown, complete with rainbow coiffed curls, white cracked rubber for a face and peeling red nose. All your explicit, childish nightmares come true to form and are made graphically real - too real. You shiver again as you see it, now crumpled up in his hand.
"You should've seen your face!" He's laughing again and it's hard not to punch him right now. Or drop kick him in the balls.
"I fucking hate clowns." You growl, shoving him in the broad shoulder, as he tries to pull you towards him, but you resist in protest.
"Hey, it's just me." Frankie reassures, pulling you into the stack of his chest and trying to kiss your cheek in attempted fuzzy apologies, but you still repel him.
"I know," you say, rubbing your arm uneasily and pouting at him. “It’s not funny.”
"Aww, hermosa. Come here, I'm sorry. Voy a parar, lo siento. Lo siento." He pulls you closer into his strong arms wrapping you up tight for a moment, and closing your eyes you're immediately in your safe place; safe in Frankie’s arms where nothing horrific can get you.
You feel your heartbeat regain its usual steady tempo and your body melts into a heated pool of slush as he soothes you, rubbing his large hands up and down your back.
It's hard to stay mad at him when he holds you like this.
"Aren't you going to be late?" You murmur a few enraptured seconds later into his warm neck skin; your nose nuzzling into the soft, sparse scruff that roots there. You taste it as the oaky scents of his heady cologne makes your mouth water.
He groans deliciously, stirring a flurry again in your rib cage, as you run your tongue up towards his ear and suck gently on the lobe.
"Mmm," he smiles blissfully, crushing your bones into his. You feel his hands now sliding down further, past the small of your back, and pawing at the pliable meat of your ass.
You tug hard on his ear with your teeth and he hisses as you clamp down.
"Ow!" He whines. You snicker up at him.
"Revenge." You titter.
“Eso duele,” he gripes, pouting.
"Look at this mess." Your bare feet are crunching into the popcorn that’s all over the floor as if an Arctic blast has just hit.
"I'll help you clean up." Frankie offers, tossing the clown mask onto the couch. You make a mental note to throw the ghastly thing in the trash once he’s gone.
"No, you go. The guys are waiting for you."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." You nod with a soft smile, and watch as Frankie retrieves his favourite blue cap from his back pocket, unfolds and fixes it back into its rightful place on his tufty curls.
"I'll just be a few hours. Beers and some cards..." He smiles with cocoa eyes.
"Take as long as you want. I'll probably be asleep when you get back anyway." You say grimacing down at the mess.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Just gonna finish up the movie then climb into bed early."
"Hardcore." He teases, pulling you towards him again.
You kiss him on the lips gently. He wraps his hands around the small of your back and you can feel him. Feel that mounting swell of him against your belly as he stiffens in his stonewash Levi’s.
The kiss between you intensifies, his tongue slipping slowly into the hungry void of your mouth. A polluting convergence of wanton desire and longing as he murmurs into your wet gums. It sizzles in your bloodstream, warming you from the inside out.
"Might have to wake you up…" Frankie purrs as you pull away, breathless; your heart thudding, as well as your clit that feels like it’s growing in size and weighing you down.
You grin, clenching internally at the thought of how Frankie specialises in waking you up.
You pull on the lapels of his jacket, twisting the artichoke corduroy, working through the mental images of tossing him on the couch, straddling his face and sending him to the guys with your slick drying in his facial scruff.
"Go on, get going, you jackass." You warn, bending down to pick up the popcorn bowl. You feel a gentle swat on your butt.
"Enjoy the movie, baby." He says.
You smile standing upright. "Say hi to Joel and Dave for me."
Frankie turns back to you, his eyes appearing like black shiny marbles in the dark shadows, and smiles sinisterly at you.
An hour or so later - the clown mask successfully dumped in the trash ceasing to haunt you - and you’ve already given up answering the door to demanding, greedy little witches, hobgoblins and mummies wrapped up in cheap ply toilet paper.
The bowl of candy is now nestled snugly in your lap; the floor clear of the discarded popcorn. Your eyes are glued back to the flat screen as you finish the remainder of the movie, sinking down further into the couch so that you’re almost horizontal, as you chew and suck the candy corn clacking around your teeth.
A knock on the door a little while later makes you jump, but you ignore it, deciding the kids in your neighbourhood have had their fill. You reach for your phone - the light illuminating your face in the dark with Frankie’s beaming grin whilst he noogies you set as your wallpaper - to see it’s a little past nine PM.
You toss it on the couch beside you, absorbing in the movie, reaching into the candy bowl for more as Michael Myers terrorises Jamie Lee to no end.
The door knocks again, this time a thudding hammering.
What the hell?
You pause the movie and get up with the candy bowl, padding over to the hall and towards the front door. The knocks grow louder, more insistent, making you flinch.
“Alright, Jesus!” You call out as you open the door, expecting to see a cluster of snarky little demons holding out their treat bags gluttonously.
But as you wrench the door open, you’re met with only the stark emptiness of the dense night. Frowning, you poke your head out further and see there's only vacant spaces hidden in the shadows of the porch.
You shut the door, convincing yourself it’s a harmless prank from bored teenagers that you’ve become a victim to.
You run your hand around a niggling crick in your neck from slumping on the couch for so long and head back towards the lounge.
Before you reach the end of the hall, another barrage of hammering rattles through your body. Turning, you march towards the front door and pull it open again.
“This isn’t funny, you little dipshits!” You holler out determined to catch them in the act.
Again, there’s nobody there; the street is empty, devoid of any life or wily children making the rounds for poison candied apples. You hesitate, torn between curiosity and a faint bleed of fear haemorrhaging somewhere within your muscles.
“The fuck…?” You query as a cold breeze nips at the tops of your shoulders as you step out onto the porch.
“Hello?” You call out, nerves already frayed as they're going to get this evening; your patience is running thin.
The eerie silence of the night that greets you back seems deafening as it plugs up all your senses. The breeze restlessly pulls the goose bumps out of your pores and you instantly feel foolish, if but a little rattled.
Sighing, you retreat back inside. You wait for a few moments, listening, waiting again for the sound of the phantom knocker. You shake your head listlessly and with a stupefied mirth to yourself, even though the lingering sense of unease remains, trying to claw at your ankles.
You bolt the chain across the door before you finally walk away, convincing yourself that it’s nothing more than your paranoid mind left to its jangled devices.
Of all the nights to play fucking pranks.
Once the movie is over, you climb the stairs up to bed; washing up in the bathroom, now dressed in your matching shorts and shirt pyjama set, and brushing out the candy now cemented in your molars.
Once you're sunk into the softness of your mattress, you roll over onto Frankie’s side, missing his shape wrapped around your body and the feel of his breath warming the back of your neck as he snores lightly.
The musky scents of him linger in the sheets and you inhale deeply, reminding yourself that you live in reality and not some torrid nightmare with crazed, masked killers.
As you drift off, you smile at the thought of him losing at poker to Joel and Dave, and how much shit you’ll know they’ll both give him for it too.
It wakes you, bleeding into your chromatic unconsciousness and interrupting your stunted, dreamless sleep.
A sense of unease washes over you, amplified by the eerie stillness that still hangs in the air as you glance the time on the alarm clock. It sears its menacing red vitriol into your sleepy retinas brightly.
It's just past midnight and Frankie’s side of the bed is still empty.
You lay still and clammy in the sheets, straining your ears to hear what had interrupted your sleep, trying to discern whether it’s real or if your mind had yelled at you from somewhere in the void, pulling you out with a jolt instead.
You close your eyes and roll over again, your arm tingling numb from sleeping on it, when you hear it again.
At first you dismiss it as a product of your overactive imagination, still haunted by the spooky shenanigans of the night, or the creaks in the house coming out to taunt you further for shits and giggles. But it’s there, unmistakably. A faint sound ruminating from downstairs.
“Frankie? That you?” You call softly, sitting up.
You listen out, the waves of your heartbeat rolling and crashing into the tide of your eardrums, disturbed only by a siren passing in the night.
You slip out of the sheets and pad over to the bedroom door that’s ajar. You're certain you'd shut it when you came up.
“Frankie?” You call over the landing and wait.
There’s a loud clanging noise that startles you and you step backwards.
Nope!
Dashing into the bedroom, you reach into the closet for Frankie’s old college baseball bat that’s beaten up and splintered to hell, but it’ll serve as some protection.
You grab your phone with the intent to call Frankie to come and kick some ass. You swipe across the screen and dial Frankie’s number. It rings off as your battery dies.
“What?” You murmur as you fiddle around with the wire, certain you had plugged it in to charge, trailing it down to the socket and find it’s unplugged and left loose on the floor. Shit!
The noise from downstairs stirs your attention, making you jump, and you’re more than convinced there is someone in the house.
“Frankie, if you’re fucking with me again, I swear to God, I’m gonna kill you!” You mumble to yourself, standing up and tiptoeing towards the door.
It falls quiet and you step closer to the top of the stairs.
“Frankie!” You hiss out, assuming he’s probably drunk and rattling around down in the kitchen and making a mess, but you also don’t want to take the chance in case it’s not.
You descend down the stairs slowly, quietly as you can muster; the bat firmly in your hand and poised ready to swing. You convince yourself that you’ll be able to take them. Frankie’s shown you a thing or two about how to carry yourself.
Yeah. Come on, you fucker.
With your pulse rising in your ears, you step into the hall, glancing at the front door. It's still chained up and the dread fully overtakes you.
You raise the bat and round the corner into the lounge. You reach for the light switch and flick it up, but the lights don’t come on at all. You flick it up and down a few times, but you remain in the swamping dark.
Fuck!
You hear the sound again, and it’s indeed coming from the kitchen. Loud and rustling.
“Frankie?” You call out gently. The sound stops and you’re certain you hear footsteps. Perhaps, realising that you'd locked him out, he's come home through the back door.
"Frankie, answer me."
You head towards the kitchen, the orange light pooling in from the lamp post outside illuminates the trash can that's now overturned on the floor. You look down and kick it warily with your foot. You think you can see a shadow moving to your left.
The air shifts heavily against the back of your neck, and you yelp, swinging the bat with conviction.
“Uh-ho, we gotta live one!” A thick voice booms as a giant hand catches the bat mid swing.
The voice comes from underneath a creepy vampire mask, complete with fangs and a bloodstained cleft. He wrenches the bat from you, in easily the biggest hands you’ve ever seen, and you hear it clatter away across the tiled floor.
You scramble backwards. A leather gloved hand clamps over your mouth, as your arms are crushed behind your back, muffling out your panicked screams.
You struggle and recoil against the body that holds you in a vice-like grip, despite your legs thrashing like you’re fighting against the tide.
You glance up behind you and see another mask, this time a ghoul with pieces of skin missing, greets you. It's too dark to see the eyes through the slits. But you can hear his laugh; a cold mist of breathy chuckles as you struggle and fight against him.
His gloved hand presses harder over your mouth drowning out your squeaks into frantic inhalations as you struggle to breathe around it. All you can think of is Frankie. Doing some desperate Jedi Mind Trick shit to conjure him here to beat the crap out of these intruding assholes.
The Vampire steps towards you, cocking his head and his hulking frame immediately intimidates you, terrifies you even.
But a flood of adrenaline makes you kick out and your foot collides with his kneecap.
He growls as he jolts. “Hey now! There’ll be none of that, darlin’,” he warns sinisterly.
In a nanosecond, that voice registers somewhere familiar in the back of your skull, but before you have time to churn and process it into coherent thought, your arm is twisted further up your spine making you cry out around the gloved hand pressing against your teeth; the pressure making them ache.
“Grab her legs.” The Ghoul instructs as The Vampire reaches for them and clamps tightly around your ankles as you try to repl against him.
They manoeuvre you into the lounge where another figure emerges from the shadows, now illuminated by a couple of gloaming candles flickering on the coffee table.
Your eyes widen as you recognise the gnarly clown mask from the trash, shaking the lit match in his fingers until it's extinguished.
You’re tossed face down into the couch and you scramble, gasping and yelling out as they pin you quickly.
"Get off of meeee!"
The Ghoul on your right, The Vampire on your left. Their auspicious, maniacal laughter ringing in your ears; their tight grip cementing you in place, pinching painfully against your skin.
The Clown steps closer peering down at you through the mask; his chest rising and falling, steadily puffed out in his menacing stance.
Your eyes widen as he advances closer, his hands moving towards his belt; thick, long fingers slowly unbuckling it.
You yell out, struggling, but it’s futile. “No, NO!” You kick and scream, the dread poisoning your bloodstream, and they all laugh.
"Help! Hel-pffh!"
The gloved hand of The Ghoul wraps around your throat murdering your yells into dying croaks that choke out of you like sloppy hiccups.
"Ain't no-one gonna hear ya, darlin'." The Vampire mocks. "S'just you n’ us, pretty girl. All night."
The Clown kicks at your ankles separating them as The Vampire yanks your left leg towards him. The Ghoul follows with your right leg and it feels like he pulls it out of the joint.
You're completely opened up, your shorts riding tight up against your centre, and locked into place unable to move. You focus on The Clown and the sinister way in which he moves, head slightly cocked and revelling in your plight; a sadistic voyeur in this cruel fate.
Your breathing is frantic, sucking in too much oxygen making you a little light headed.
The Clown edges closer, his horrifically masked face craning closer towards yours and you can see those dark eyes staring back at you, unblinking and unflinching.
“Trick or treat?” He simply taunts.
You’re frozen, paralysed.
The fear has gripped you tight in a vice so binding that you’re unable to process basic motor functions. Both your fight or flight senses have left you, fled screaming into the night.
You can hear them. All around you. Their rabid voices hitching through the masks; verbal plotting laced with undulating horrors of menace. All the ways they want to feast on you rattles tinny in between your ears.
Their hands paw at you, tear at your supple flesh like a pack of ravenous wolves; groping, scratching, pinching. Tugging lewdly at the light cotton of your pyjama shorts and shirt.
The monsters harangue your every sense, flood your synapses with their ill intent. Their white noise deafens you.
Then, like you've been dunked head first under ice cold water, the sudden awareness of your predicament shakes you with alarm. It's enough to pump fast adrenaline through you like Popeye's spinach as you twist, screech and fight back with all you’ve got.
You’re not sure how you manage it - it's one for your brain to calculate the physics later - but you’re up on your feet, shoving The Clown backwards as he unzips his flies, leaving The Vampire growling.
But The Ghoul is up just as fast and chasing you down as you make a daring dash towards the front door.
Your fingers rattle clumsily around the chain, cursing yourself that you attached it earlier, unable to get a steady grip on it, when you feel The Ghoul slam into you from behind.
Your face is crushed hard into the wood as he pestles against you, stars flooding your eyes. You hear him snarling fistules of lava in your ear. He grabs your arms and drags you back. “No you don’t, bitch!” He seethes.
Now begins the physical struggle that you’re bound to lose. You might have torn at him with your nails, but it barely marks him. Your desperate imploring of him to stop, that he's hurting you, has no effect either. His need is too desperate now for him to even hear you.
You feel his urgency, and realising there’s nothing further you can do or say, your body submits to him as he drags you along with ease - he’s simply too strong for you to fight off - they all are.
He slams you down, bent forward, over the dining table; your temple and cheek slapping against it, dazing you for a second.
You feel hands on your body, one hand slipping easily around your throat, the other slipping around the front of your belly pulling you back tight against him.
You feel him, feel the excitement of your helplessness goading him on. Feel that hardness of his twisted desire. Your wrists are restrained at your back, held in place as he easily and quickly manoeuvres them despite your struggles.
“Please!” You cry out louder.
His voice is rough sounding in your ear. "Don't you dare scream, or I'll snap your pretty little neck!" Foul menace is hissed into you insidiously from The Ghoul. And you know he's not messing around.
Through the commotion, you hear a chair being pulled out, creaky scrapes, and The Clown takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. He tosses a couple of black cable ties across the polished wood to The Ghoul.
The Ghoul secures your wrists together, sharp and snapping, and you whine with tears pooling in your eyes for them to let you go. To not do this. To please just stop.
The Clown, drawing one denim clad knee up, sitting back in the chair, watches darkly.
You jut your leg out backwards in a last ditch attempt to not go down without a fight, clocking it into The Ghoul’s thigh and he growls and slams his fist on the table mere inches from your face.
He’s had enough now.
He tears off his mask and presses his body over yours, suffocating you with his crushing strength. He grips round your chin and turns your head. The face that is presented back to you, smirking with dark brown eyes burning into you like hot embers, renders you useless as he twists your face to meet yours. You can hear your neck crack.
Oh fuck.
“D-Dave?” You query confused. He grits his teeth, mouth pursed out as he stares you into a weak submission. He's pissed, livid.
You see movement over his shoulder as The Vampire emerges.
“Cat’s outta the bag, hmm?” The Vampire says to Dave, a hefty hand resting on his shoulder.
You watch in shock, and with something else starting to flare over your body, as The Vampire removes his own mask, crushing it in his large palm to reveal soft, greying curls slick with sweat in the chocolaty roots.
“Joel?" You gasp.
“In the flesh, darlin’.” He sneers through a smile that’s more unnerving than Dave’s fury somehow, completing this picture of terrifying machismo.
“What is this, w-what’s going on?" You pant, your wrists burning as they struggle around the plastic snare keeping them together and tingling your fingers with numbness.
Dave’s gloved hand squeezes around your jaw popping your lips open.
“Ssshh.” His leathered index finger pushes tightly to your mouth. Black butterflies dance over Dave’s features. You're tempted to bite down, but sensing this, he pushes another finger in and you heave as it tickles the back of your throat.
Joel chuckles softly at your plight as he watches you choke around Dave's invading leather digits.
"So this is what you look like sucking on Frankie's cock, hmm?" Dave taunts.
"Real fuckin' nice." Joel agrees, licking his lips. You catch him palming himself over his jeans and you feel a heavy flutter start to rustle from the grave in your core.
You try to swallow but your mouth is stuffed so full of the padded leather that your saliva pools out the corner of your mouth and runs down your chin.
Dave grips the side of your face with his other hand, his hips pushing you against the table. Joel lurches behind him like a stacked shadow, sealing off any gap for a potential escape.
You want to be furious, you want to push him off you as he pushes his fingers into the furthest reaches of your throat and becomes mesmerised by it as you gag and retch.
Instead, and in some fucked up depravity stirring from the pits, you melt under his force; enjoying the feel of it and nuzzling into his hand with your eyes closed, until he yanks your hair backwards and holds you still and taut.
You gasp out as he sniffs all over your neck and face like a dog. "Oh, you want this don't you, slut?"
Dave's sudden change in demeanour again does something to you; something wonderfully perverted and untamed. Something unexpected and he picks up on it immediately like a Bloodhound.
He pulls his hand out of the glove, but leaves it in your mouth, pressing it in further until you gag more and your cheeks fill with it.
"I can smell your cunt," Dave says in a voice you don't recognise. It's sinister and deep, yet with a jaunty bounce of a little chuckle on the end of it.
His macabre smile does nothing to appease the angst simmering away inside your stomach. Instead, it seems to intensify it to boiling point and it begins to ache in your gut like a heavy pull.
But then, a surge of devious pleasure swills in your bloodstream, seemingly from out of nowhere; you're aroused by becoming aroused at such a thing. A blooming in between your legs, the slickness of your pussy waking up to join this fucked up tea party. And the feel of your body becoming heated for him makes you sweat.
“Ain’t she pretty, hmm?” Joel taunts.
Dave runs his mouth over your cheeks; he becomes possessed, animalistic almost as he glides it back and forth, back and forth. You feel his lips drag against yours but he doesn't kiss you, even though you're suddenly desperate to latch onto his lips - to feast on them like you're starved, despite the glove stuffed so unceremoniously into your mouth.
It sends shivers down your body and tingles inside your hair follicles that he’s pulling on tightly. The smoothness of his marble-like jaw, the plumpness of his bottom lip; a kaleidoscopic wonder of him that you've never really paid attention to before.
Somewhere, deep inside of you, you realise you’d always thought Dave was attractive, handsome. And now whilst he’s terrifying and rough, that attraction rears its ugly head and dives haphazardly into wanton lust.
The electric sparks zap down your spine and surges through your nipples that are tightening inside your pyjama shirt. You’re unconsciously squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs.
He's right. You do want this.
"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you." Dave's hand reaches for his belt.
You see Joel kneel down to your level as your eyes widen. You feel Dave yank down your pyjama shorts as he practically tears them from your legs.
You sound your resistance out around the glove, but all that comes out is incomprehensible moans.
He swipes between your legs, and his fingers slip over your puffy cunt lips, and it's a dead giveaway at how drenched you are.
You feel Joel pat your shoulder. “S’okay, darlin’,” he soothes with maddening eyes. “We’re gonna take real care of ya.”
"Yeah. Feel that tight cunt that Frankie says you've got squeeze round me." Dave snorts. "Fuck, you're so wet…"
You hear yourself audibly whimper as his fingers find you soaking and wanting. He runs them up and down your fleshy seam and pushes two of them into your folds with a loud, undignified squelch.
He slides further up and knocks against your clit that aches and your thighs judder uncontrollably as he circles it.
Joel reaches between your legs and takes a swipe for himself. You watch as he sucks your slick from his fingers and smirks.
“Someone’s ready to be fucked, aren’t ya, darlin’?” Joel says to you.
You shake your head and it clatters against the tabletop.
Dave moans into your ear, "what a little slut. Wet for me already. What would your boyfriend think?"
You whine as he increases the pressure on your clit, your legs already buckling underneath you.
"Why don't we ask him, hmm? Hey Frank. What do you think about that?"
Your eyes dart to The Clown, watching you silently with tented fingers.
"Frank!" Dave grunts again through gritted teeth. "Take that thing off and watch me fuck your girl.”
A hand goes to The Clown's face and you recognise Frankie's features as they're revealed to you from under it. Your heart surges, feeling heavier in your chest. But Frankie doesn't look how you expect him to.
He doesn't look aghast or in disgust, or furious with Dave and Joel. No. He looks positively delighted and smirks darkly at you as Dave lines himself up against your oozing slit.
Frankie tosses the mask across the table. "Fuck her until she screams, Dave." He says casually cold.
You watch helplessly as Frankie's lips twist up into a chilling smirk that ices right through your blood.
You whimper helplessly. Your body is shattered with an agonising realisation as Frankie teases and encourages your plight rather than halting it.
You can feel your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest cavity - pumping courage into your veins, preparing you for what is about to happen.
He’s not helping you, he’s not stopping this. You realise that he’s heinously a part of it. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to blind you and it feels like every bone in your body has snapped.
Dave shunts his cock into you so hard, that the table screeches and jostles forward against the floor. Frankie slaps his palms down so that he isn't crushed in the gut by it.
"Shit! Never knew ya had it in ya, Yorkie-boy." Joel remarks with an impressed grin.
"Fuck you, Joel." Dave pants from behind you.
He’s not gentle as he drills in, pushing himself into the deepest parts of you he can reach as he fucks you. Your pussy welcomes him in, sucking around him, despite your body clenching initially.
Slowly, you’re unfurling, you’re taking it, taking him, whether you want to or not. Your mind is still trying to figure that part out.
He’s packing you out and filling you to the brim as he surges into a vile, hypnotic rhythm. You’re gasping around the glove; groaning and moaning as your body performs the ultimate betrayal against you, and starts to unwillingly peak.
“Mmph, nufffph…” You lament helplessly around the suffocating glove.
"Look at this slut, coming already. Barely fucked you, sweetheart and you're coming all over me!" Dave cajoles as though he's unimpressed.
"His cock feel too good in ya, honey?" Joel asks, stroking at your sweat laden face.
You whine, unable to speak with the glove still stuffed in your orifice.
"Oh, I know, darlin'. Let's get that out, shall we?" Joel reaches for the leather and slowly pulls it out of your stretched, dry mouth. "That better?"
You nod, licking around your taut gums. "Uh-huuuah…" You groan as your back tenses and your body arches.
Dave pistons in deep, grabbing a hold of the meat of your hips with sharp, tight fingers. You can already feel the bruises forming as he squeezes around your malleable flesh.
Joel smiles, grabbing at your jaw, squeezing it tightly in a binding crush of his fingers and stubby thumb. "Tell me how good it feels with Dave’s cock in ya cunt."
"G-goo-ood." You whimper, snottily. You say it to appease him; it’s what he wants to hear, but Dave’s hitting those spots inside you that creep up your shoulders and whisper in your ear that it does, in fact, feel good.
Your muscles are tense all over your body making you feel like lead, but that building heat is melting it all away until you’re a boiling, metallic liquid running off the table to melt Joel’s boots.
"Just good?” Joel frowns. “Ya can do better than that. He’s giving it to ya hard, honey n’ you’re telling me it’s just good?” He shakes his head disapprovingly.
"S-so goo-ood…" you stutter, your words being forced out of your larynx with every brutal thrust Dave gives you as he riles and growls behind you.
"Tell him it's the best fucking cock ya've ever had." Joel prompts with a controlled voice.
"It's t-the best cock… I've ever ha-haad." You hiccup through your wails.
Dave continues to pummell you. You can't take it anymore, it begins to hurt as he nudges against your cervix like a battering ram. It begins to charge and stew. It begins to turn you out, kicking and screaming by the ankles as your fingertips fizz and your eyes roll back into your skull as though possessed by the emergence of another haunting orgasm, only this time stronger than the last.
It's burning, licking all over your skin and melting you. He's taking from you, owning you.
And it feels oh so fucking good.
"Oh God, oh fuck!" You cry. “Please! Fuck, yes!” You’re babbling; possessed by the inucubus-like demons that twist and trick and convince you that you want this as they lick at your ear. That somewhere, in the back of your mind, this has always been a dark fantasy that you’ve been reluctant to walk the path of.
You can feel the drool from your mouth pool on the table under you, sticking to your cheek like syrup.
Joel slaps your face and it stings you back to reality for a second. "Louder darlin'!"
"It's the… aaah-ha! Oh God! The-best-fucking-cock-I've-ever-fucking-had! Aaahh! Fuuuuuck!" You wail as Dave snaps his hips into you and you fold completely in half.
You're shaking and can't seem to stop, Dave's dastardly grunts filling your ears as you squeeze and flood him. "That's it baby, soak my cock. Just like that you little slut."
"Ohh. Frankie. Man. That's gotta hurt." Joel snorts as he lets your face go and it falls back against the table with a heavy thunk. You've no energy to keep it up right now as you succumb to Dave’s cock tearing you open whilst your bones dissolve.
Frankie purses his lips as Joel stands up with a smirk tossed at him. The two men watching you as Dave brutally gives you a pounding that feels like it’ll never let up.
And you kinda don’t want it to.
“Enjoying the show, boys?” Dave pants around a wheezed laugh.
He reaches forward and pulls at your hair again, snapping your neck up, your spine bending backwards on itself like a screwed up question mark, as he holds you there in a warped contortion and your body can only take it.
It shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t feel good and devouring. You should be repulsed, you should be frightened with how he's invaded you. You should be doing everything you can to fight him off.
But you don’t want to.
You want him to snap your spine in half and eat your insides. You want Dave to annihilate you and pulverise your body into ashy dust. You want him to make you come again.
“Watch me break your girl in half, Frank.” Dave croons evilly, as if able to read your thoughts.
“Oh god... fuck... please!" Even your mouth betrays you now, begging him for more. "Dave! Pleasepleaseplease…"
But somehow your cries and begging him only make your orgasm that much more intense. And while he laughs, while they all laugh at you being railed on the dining table, deep derisive chuckles at your utter humiliation by Dave’s hands, you come again right on top of the other; your entire body shaking and trembling as you’re being exorcised of any reluctant demons left inside you.
You want this. You want them all to have their fill and to fill you up. You want to be tossed around and shared by them all. Left muddied and stained.
"Daaaaaave!" You wail.
“That’s it, scream for me! I fucking love it when little sluts scream. Little sluts who scream like they don't want this cock buried in their cunt." Dave grunts into your scalp and he’s all teeth.
You’re completely out of breath. Your body is caving into him as he ruts and fucks you harder, deeper and without any intention of stopping soon.
You’re starting to believe it when he said he’d always wanted to do this, always wanted to fuck you. And now that he his, it's more terrifying and wonderful than what you could have imagined.
You can feel him speed up, really giving you his all, as his breathing starts to wane. His thighs are constant thuds against your ass cheeks, so much so that you imagine the skin between you is now one.
“Fuck!” He yells out.
When Dave comes, it’s like he’s howling at the moon; turning himself around his bones and sinew as he pants and wheezes like an animal with bloodied carcass strings hanging around his teeth.
You feel him pump into you, his thighs buckling and his hands releasing your hair from around his grip; you feel like you’ve been scalped.
He lets go of you completely, tossing your used body onto the tabletop like garbage, as his cock slips out and you can feel his come pooling at your entrance. You inadvertently squeeze to stop it sluicing down your thighs as your panting subsides.
You’re dizzy, you’re seeing spots in your vision as you try to remember how to breathe.
You’re given no remission; Joel’s there immediately as Dave steps back, catching you before you slide off the table into a heap as your legs finally give way.
“I got ya, darlin’.” He scoops you up into his strong arms with ease, and carries you through to the lounge.
Joel makes his way with you in his arms; his heavy boots crunching in some of the popcorn spilt on the floor in your earlier fright from Frankie that you'd missed clearing up.
He sits on the sofa, cradling you in his wide lap and stroking through your hair gently. Your arms are aching, feeling like they're on fire as your wrists are still lashed together tightly behind your back.
You look up, in a heady stupor, to see Frankie still watching from the dining table with a blank, unreadable face and dark eyes, and Dave pouring a glass of water and gulping it back, clearing his throat, naked from the waist down and puffing out his cheeks that are pink with the exertion. His face shines with sweat.
“Let’s get these off ya, darlin’,” Joel says.
He pulls a switchblade from his back pocket and you flinch as the blade flicks open. He waves it under your eyelashes and you tense.
“M’gonna cut ya free. Ya try anythin’ and I’ll slide this into your belly, y’hear me?” He pinches the fat of your stomach under the flaps of your pyjama shirt to emphasise the point.
You nod frantically as he cuts the cable ties from your wrists.
Tucking the knife away, he brings your hands around to your front and massages the feeling slowly back into them. They have purple rings around them that itch and weep from raw blisters.
He brings your wrists to his lips and presses gentle kisses over the broken skin whilst holding eye contact with you.
An urge surges through your fingertips; you feel compelled to stroke through his curls, feel him nuzzle into you at his gentle nature. Run your nose over his facial scruff and see if it smells different from Frankie’s.
But you don’t, he keeps your twitching hands firmly in his own as he kisses delicately, runs his soothing tongue around the welts.
“Better?” Joel asks you after a few minutes.
You nod as he pushes your knotted hair behind your ears.
“Alright, darlin’. Lay back. M’gonna fuck ya now.”
"Please-" you start in a weak protest. Your body isn;t ready for another pounding yet.
"Shut up. Ya gonna take what I give ya like a good girl." He menaces in the same gentle tone, which is unnerving as it is heated. “In fact, let’s get you down here. Can splay ya out. S’better.”
Joel picks you up like you weigh nothing and lays you on the wooden floor, pushing the coffee table out of the way with his other hand effortlessly. It creaks across the wooden floor.
His foreboding, giant hands grip either side of your pyjama shirt lapels and wrenches it open with a quick yank; the buttons tearing and popping off, some never to be found again.
"Fuck," Joel groans as your breasts spill out at him. He leans forward over you, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking on it, pulling on it with his teeth and making you hiss.
"Such a nice pair, darlin'. Jesus." He gruffs tonguing around your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He runs his mouth across the valley and peaks of your breasts, his tongue lavishing attention around those stiff nipples that he teases.
You feel him bite down on the meat of the left one and you hiss as he sucks the skin in around his teeth ferociously. He rises up when he’s left a purple mark. “Something for ya to remember me by,” he says.
Your eyes water, yet you groan in response to his biting, and shut them as he leaves another mark on your sternum. You feel a sharp sting across your cheeks; you open them again in shock.
"Eyes on me." Joel warns. "Want you to watch me turn ya out."
“Please, Joel…” You whine, trying to resist him and the way he can simply knead and spread you about with ease like you’re a pliable plasticine doll. But your body is too strung out from Dave’s gruelling punishment. It has no fight left in it.
You try to close your legs, but Joel’s too strong. He wrenches them apart with a simple shove of his hands making your thigh bones crack: his stocky body filling the gap and stopping you from shutting them again as he slots in between like a giant cinder block.
"Don't act like ya don't want me inside ya. I know you've been thinkin' 'bout me doing this to ya. You're a fuckin' tease."
Joel's always been big. With his broad shoulders and biceps that often strain under his plaid shirts, he's the quieter one of the three of them, the softer one.
A gentle giant that would always come to your aid if you needed him. And he knows how to grill a mean steak when he invites you and Frankie over for barbecues and he makes for the perfect, gracious host.
But tonight, he's showing you a side of him you never thought could exist. A side of him that's turning you on explicitly, despite the creeping exhaustion and pursed reluctance.
Joel's a Texan gentleman through and through. But tonight, he's a wild fucking animal.
“Y'gonna hold ya girl steady for me, Frankie? Squirmy lil' thing ain’t she?" Joel grunts as he unbuckles his belt.
Momentarily, you feel Frankie lifting your head into his lap and securing your arms above your head as you wriggle and headbutt against his thighs. “Don’t fight it, hermosa.” He warns.
"Gon' make a mess of ya, darlin'," Joel smirks as he shuffles his jeans off and you spy his ominous cock; massively hard and dripping. It's huge, almost comically so, and you gulp.
Fuck!
"Ya ever had a cock this big before? Gon' break ya open." Joel spits into his palm and smears it all around his fat head as he pumps himself.
You gasp; a deep guttural howl transmorphing into a silent scream as Joel pushes the head of his engorged cock against your hole and begins stretching you out.
"Oh God… so fuckin’ tight. Ya didn't tell me how good this would be, Frankie." Joel groans through a slack jaw. "Ya can't be keeping this pussy to yourself. That ain't fair."
You hear Dave snicker in agreement above you as he repositions himself on the couch to get a better view of your plight.
“Oh fuck…” You cry out as Joel continues to push in further.
Frankie's cock was big, he often left a delicious ache deep inside you for days after. Even Dave's cock you'd feel bruising around your insides in the morning. But Joel? Fuck, Joel wasn't joking when he said he'd break you open.
It burns and sears and you feel so full despite him not being all the way in yet.
"Fuck Joel, you're… it's too much. I can't-" You protest, shaking your head and screwing up your eyes.
"Suck it up." He grunts as he pushes his hips further into yours.
"Take it," Frankie grizzles, as you try to thrash against his hands, pinning your arms down. Your whole body feels full of Joel as he finally stills; his full, fat length buried inside you and you can feel yourself rib and pulse around him, already on the cusp of falling apart. You're whimpering and shaking already.
"Well look at that, seems ya can take me after all, sweetheart." Joel smirks, the crest of his hips now pressed flush against yours. The weight of him crushing you somewhat. He looms over you, his gigantic palms flat on the floor by your head.
"Please move," you whimper around grinding your teeth. “Oh God, Joel, you’re too fucking big-”
"What's that, darlin'? Ya begging me to fuck ya now?" Joel chuckles. "Ya girl's really greedy for cock, Frankie."
“Fuck her,” Dave encourages.
Joel pulls backwards and slams forward into you with a hard shunt. "There we go."
"FUCK!" You wail, water blinding your eyes as they mist over. You feel him; one quick, hard shunt of his cock inside of you and you gasp at the full invading breach as he bottoms out.
Although it feels like he’s ripped right through your back.
He does it again and your breath is pumped out of your lungs into the air above you as you flounder, trying to suck it all back in.
Joel's large paws grab at your hips as he kneels up and steadies himself into a brutal pace, rattling your bones with each powerful thrust.
Your hands squeeze into fists and you glance up at Frankie; a poised smirk over his upside down features, a few renegade curls falling into his face, watching Joel's thick cock hammer into you.
Joel's grunts fill your senses, mesmerised by the way he looks down to see himself pull back and admire how wet his cock is with you before he raises his eyebrow up and smirks accomplished. “Greasin’ me up good, darlin’.”
“Joel!” You wail as he slams on in again. You’re just a body for him to fuck, a toy for him to twist out of shape and break apart. “Oh fuck, please, nuuaaaahhh!"
Your gasps and cries are soon silenced by Dave straddling your face and planting his heavy balls into your mouth. "Shut up and suck." He commands.
He strokes his now hard cock again, and groans as you’re forced to suck whilst Joel continues to annihilate your cunt.
Dave smirks at Frankie who’s still pinning your wrists in place.
You look up at them both, staring into one another as Dave jerks his cock and Frankie holds his eye contact with flared nostrils.
Dave grips onto Frankie's shoulder with a heavy clap. He growls whilst you suck on his balls that have completely filled your mouth, squeaking around them as Joel forcefully pulls another orgasm from you.
Frankie rests his forehead against Dave's as he groans, fucking into his own fist.
You see Frankie's lips twitch, whispering to him, but you can't hear anything over your own muffled squeaks and Joel's rabid panting.
You think you lipread Frankie telling Dave to come. To come for him, and that thought alone makes you surge and cry out as you release all over Joel's cock uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Joel is destroying your cunt as he thrusts deep and with intent on making you feel it; feel him with every shunt that leaves you gasping for oxygen as it's pushed out of you by his dick. There's simply no room in your body for both.
Your squeaking around Dave's balls reaches a fever pitch and the humming against them only makes him grunt and growl heavier.
His grip on Frankie's shoulder tightens, screwing up his t-shirt as he pumps his cock faster. He tenses and you feel his balls lurch in your mouth as he spurts ropes of thick ejaculate all over Frankie's denim clad thighs.
He hoists himself off of you, panting and sitting back on the couch. "Clean him up," Dave instructs you with a click of his fingers.
Joel pulls out of you and flips you over onto all fours and ploughs back in as you shakily get to licking Dave's come off of Frankie's jeans.
"Good slut," Dave praises as he sits back on the couch, his arm slung over his face and breathes deeply.
You feel Joel pry apart your ass cheeks. You feel a wet globule of his spit on your ass and you flinch at it, feeling it cool and sloppy as he rubs his thick fingers around it, teasing your puckered hole.
You then feel Joel's thumb stretch through your rim. You instinctively clench and he growls.
"Clench and it's gon' hurt. I'll make sure of it." He smacks your ass as you yelp from the sting.
"Relax, hermosa," Frankie instructs, grabbing hold of your face and focusing your attention on him.
You shake your head frantically; the thought of Joel’s cock ploughing in your ass fills you with utter dread and horror. “No,” you implore Frankie with wide eyes.
“I said, relax.” Frankie says squeezing your cheek bones tightly. You can feel Joel twisting his thumb deeply in your hole.
A dewdrop of Dave’s come is smeared on your cheek and Frankie scoops it onto his finger and holds it out to you. He hisses, biting his lip as you suck it off, eyeing him the whole time.
"You're such a good fucking whore for us, aren't you, baby? Quieres esto tan mala, ¿verdad?" Frankie nods encouragingly as you fall under his dark spell. You feel his own thumbs stroke at the sides of your face now as you pant and whine.
"Yeah…" you nod too, straining not to clench as Joel's thick thumb hooks fully into your ass.
"There we go, snug as a bug, darlin'." He emits a chuckle that seems to grab at you and shake you with its eerie, sadistic violence.
“Does ya girl squirt Frankie?” Joel asks as you inadvertently start pushing back against him as he fucks you more laboured now.
Frankie chuckles and nods. “Just gotta know the right place to stroke.” He looks back at your face in his hands, sweaty and panting. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
Joel nods in agreement. “I reckon you can squirt for me, darlin’.”
“She can. Let me get some of that pussy.” Frankie says, highly enthused at the prospect.
Joel pulls out and rolls you on your back as you collapse into the floor. You can see Dave sitting forward, elbows on his knees and watching you intently with those dark eyes. You reach around his ankle and tug gently and whine and he responds to your wanting.
He slips down and slides behind you, propping you up, groping and massaging your breasts.
You catch the glimmer of his wedding band as his hands work your tits and you can only wonder at what Carol is assuming he’s doing this evening.
Those thoughts are cut short as Joel kneels up, slipping his thick cock back inside you, and Frankie lays down beside him on his stomach and starts sucking on your clit.
You whine, watching intently as Joel’s hand comes down on the back of Frankie’s head, sifting through his curls and groans. His mouth is practically on Joel's cock too, and it does something to you as your body fizzes in response to the delicious sight of it.
“Fuck!” You cry out, biting down on your lip.
The pressure on your clit and the way Joel hits that spot deep inside you just right starts to build in your body. It all centres, gathering deep in the pit of your core as the warmth starts to choke you up.
You feel it tightening, bunching. Your toes start to curl, your fingers crack. Your back lifts and arches of its own volition and your thighs shake and stiffen.
You feel a pull, a heavy sensation as you bear down. The pressure mounting, pushing… You see those phosphenes glimmer at you as you close your eyes.
You can hear Dave’s snarls close to your ear, feel his fingers tugging on your nipples. Feel Frankie’s skilled tongue drawing those fast, dizzying circles on your clit. Feel Joel hitting that spot again and again that’s going to annihilate you imminently.
They're everywhere, they're all over you.
Your climax is almost violent; you buck and shudder as you release the pressure, always feeling for a split second like you'll pee, but don't.
You're gushing loudly, and uncontrollably, over Joel’s cock and Frankie’s lips. It bears down again, that weight inside of you erupting as you release. Frankie laps it up like a starving animal as it soaks his scruff. It feels like you’ll never stop.
“Holy shit!” Dave remarks with a smirk watching you squirt. He squeezes your tits together as you place your hands over his and giggle deliriously. He squeezes your fingers around his.
The combination of having Joel’s thick cock in your pussy, while receiving a tongue fucking from Frankie makes for a most lewd and unabashed scene whilst your head thrashes against’s Dave chest as he chuckles just as bewildered by it as you are.
You can’t believe it, your cunt is absolutely gushing as the three of them work in tandem to completely destroy you. And you’re loving it.
Frankie licks his lips that are dripping as he rises up, the collar of his t-shirt is soaked, and Joel grabs a hold of you and fucks harder, quicker. More determined as he nears his own release.
“Joel!” You wail as you squeeze against Dave’s fingers, feeling like you could crush them.
Finally, Joel comes roaring like an animal, and pumps himself liberally inside of you.
"Fill her up now, Frankie.” Joel nods with a puff as he pulls out.
The mess that is over the wooden floor between your legs is obscene.
Frankie pulls off his Levi’s, runs a hand through his messy hair, and crawls over you.
"Who's pussy is this?" He asks slipping a finger side of you and feeling the spend of both his friends in there, warm and silken.
"Yours," you whimper.
"Really? I think you need reminding, hermosa. Seeing as you've been such a fucking slut tonight, hmm?"
"Frankie..." you whine as he pulls you forward towards him. He lines himself up with your pussy, pushing in.
"Aah!" You groan.
“Fuck, Joel stretched you nice and good, baby. Shit. You feel loosened up.” He growls thrusting hard and fast. You can only clutch onto him, only whine and groan as Frankie gives you his all.
"My pussy. My fucking pussy." Frankie seethes at you, hips snapping furiously into you. He pants, growls. Garbled Spanish and English flows from his lips as he pummels you.
He finishes inside of you quickly, too riled up from this whole scene to not bust a nut quickly.
“Got all three of us in that slutty pussy now, don't you?" Dave taunts.
“Which one of our kids ya gon’ have?” Joel smirks as he pats your tummy gently. “Cunt’s filled to the brim.”
The three of them dazzle you, utterly fucking you up. Working together like a team; a gang of insidious spectres dominating and taking their turns with you.
And you fucking love every single second of it.
After Frankie fills you, Joel pulls apart your legs to watch the cream pie spilling out of you.
He runs his fingers through it, pushing it back inside you. He then brings them to your face, Dave holding onto your jaw and bringing it forward towards Joel's drenched digits. He rubs them over your lips. "Lick ‘em clean. Taste all of us."
They all watch with praise and smirks as your tongue moves out tentatively, licking the salty cream from Joel’s fingers until he finally pushes them in your mouth.
Your lips wrap around them tightly as you suck them like you would Frankie's cock.
“Mmm,” you whine, giggling. "You all taste good."
Dave chuckles behind you and Frankie laughs, his chin leaning on Joel’s broad shoulder.
“Good slut,” Dave praises in your ear.
You lay there in a crumpled heap, gradually gathering your thoughts; striving to understand and come to terms with what has happened this spooky evening.
But initially you’re still too confused, still swimming in a blissed out fracture of reality bobbing along the surface of a choppy existence.
Baffling questions bloom and wilt quickly as you have no answers to appease the turmoil of embarrassment, shame… of pure unadulterated pleasure.
You can hear the shrill echoes of the guys in the hall, dressed and murmuring with Frankie. You can't hear much, the ringing in your ears from your body being mauled and torn at still hums, but you think you can make out Joel saying something.
She’s a good sport… Hope she liked it.
Take care of her tonight. Dave adds.
Ya still coming over Sunday, for the game? Joel checks.
You feel like you zone out for a while, only coming to when Frankie stands above you, towering and looming; his presence breaking the barriers of your heavy consciousness.
The look on his face is unreadable, impenetrable.
You peep up at him from behind the scraggy mess of your knotted hair, your scalp still aching from how hard Dave had tugged on it.
"I can't believe you did it." You grin, the concealed violence of this night escaping through your teeth into blissed satisfaction.
Frankie’s cool look instantly melts into a warm sunbeam. "Was it what you wanted, querida?" He asks, crouching down, knuckles running against your leg affectionately.
You nod. "It was better than I could have imagined. Creepy. But so fucking good." You smirk dreamily. "I really got into it."
He smiles accomplished, a faint blush of pink creeping under his eyes and in the crinkles there as he grins. "Good. How are you feeling, you a little sore?"
"My whole body feels like I've been tackled. I think Joel broke me." You start laughing as your pussy flinches in horror at the recall of him stretching you wider than you've ever been.
"He's a big guy." Frankie chortles.
"You're telling me. Jesus." You reach down and cup your battered pussy.
"Come on. I'll run you a bath." Frankie scoops you up in his arms and carries you up to the bathroom.
You plant a delicate smooch on the side of his golden neck. “Thank you for this,” you murmur.
“Cualquier cosa por ti, mi amor.” He runs his soft scruff against your cheek as he navigates the stairs. You can smell your cunt in it and you smile.
He gets in the bath with you, pulling you back against his soft belly and soaping your body down with a hot washcloth. Your wrists are still purple; he smiles insidiously, feeling a rush through his cock at the decay of them.
"Did you enjoy it?" You query as his soapy fingers interlock with yours and you feel his breath cool against the shell of your ear.
"I loved every second of it," he assures.
"No jealousy?"
"None at all. I trust them. We discussed it in length. I told them anything goes, but no kissing you on the mouth and they respected that. It's all good."
You nod and mull it over, enjoying the hot water soothing the embryonic bruises you know will gestate overnight on your skin. You glance down at the purple bites Joel left on you. You press on one enjoying the masochistic flare for a few moments.
You think back to so many things, but then you remember Dave and Frankie and that intimate moment you witnessed where Frankie was whispering to him.
"Have you guys… ever done stuff together?"
"No. No, never." He says. “First time. For all of us actually.”
You nod, admittedly feeling a little swell of disappointment. But it’s washed away by the thought that perhaps they’ll be up for it again, one day.
"Well, this is going to make poker nights interesting now, hmm?"
You feel his chest vibrate against your back as he laughs. "Yeah."
"Dave is just… an animal!" You exclaim chuckling.
"Poor Carol." Frankie says, and you both start laughing and find you can't stop for a little while.
You both stay in the water until it starts to cool and the bubbles have all gone, just enjoying Frankie noodling and fussing over you, and relishing how lucky you are as he wraps his wet arms around you, and you could happily drown in the bath water.
It's late; the dawn is on the cusp of rising on the first day in November and you watch as Frankie climbs into the sheets, naked as the day God created him with golden tan skin, pulling you back against his body that moulds itself around yours like warm putty.
His thumb draws gentle circles on your navel as he buries his face into the nape of your neck. You reach for your phone, previously plugging the charger back into the wall.
“Did you do something to the power?” You query.
He chuckles. “Yeah. I switched off the breaker. Joel must’ve reset it when they left.” He yawns.
“You guys thought of everything.” You smile.
"We were in the house for a while. You were asleep." You hear him smirk into you skin.
You smile. You see a message that had come through whilst your phone was off, from Frankie, and click it open.
It's a selfie of Frankie, Joel and Dave outside on the porch with the Halloween masks on, possibly taken moments before they stormed the house.
Underneath is a message typed out:
You smirk as Frankie stirs behind you, rubbing your back, and you put your phone back on the table and rollover into his arms.
The light from your phone stays illuminated on your previous message thread with Frankie:
“I love you,” you murmur into his skin as you settle, closing your eyes. You plant a couple of small kisses on his chest.
"Yo tambien te amo, hermosa." Frankie whispers, his fingers dancing slowly in your hair as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep inside of the Devil’s arms.
I really hope you got a spooky kick out this story. I'd love to know your thoughts and I hope you enjoyed reading it on this Halloween Fright Night. 🖤🎃
🎃 Re-blogs & comments fuel me! TY!💀
MASTERLIST
#joel miller#dave york#frankie 'catfish' morales#pedro pascal#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#dave york x f!reader#frankie morales#frankie morales x f!reader#joel miller x f!reader#tw noncon#tw dubcon#tw dark#jett's pedro boys#jett's writing#happy halloween#fright night#joel miller tlou#dave york equalizer 2#triple frontier frankie#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
The 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
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Char’s 2K fic rec List
Please do yourself a favour and check out these writers and their work. They are all amazing 🤩
Full masterlist
@misspearly1 Masterlist
@kteague Masterlist
@toomanystoriessolittletime Masterlist
@something-tofightfor Masterlist
@boliv-jenta Masterlist
@wardenparker Masterlist
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@forever-rogue Masterlist
@prolix-yuy Masterlist
@littlemisspascal Masterlist
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@pedrito-friskito Masterlist
@scorpio-marionette Masterlist
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@musings-of-a-rose Masterlist
@icanbeyourjedi Masterlist
@frannyzooey Masterlist
@fuckyeahdindjarin Masterlist
@pedropascalsx Masterlist
@writer-darling Masterlist
Some more recs sent in by the lovely Chloe @misspearly1 Here
(I will keep adding throughout the month, my brain is not working this evening so I know for sure I’ve left someone out 🥰)
Also don’t forget my requests are open until Wednesday 15th so send some in 💕
#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#dave york x reader#frankie morales x reader#marcus pike x f!reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x female reader#javier pena x female reader#pero tovar x f!reader
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PEDRO PASCAL - PASCALIPSE
We present the complete Filmography of Pedro Pascal, with images of all the works that our Pedrito has done on TV and in Cinema. Enjoy!
Apresentamos a Filmografia completa de Pedro Pascal, com imagens de todos os trabalhos que nosso Pedrito fez na TV e no Cinema. Aproveitem!
Presentamos la Filmografía completa de Pedro Pascal, con imágenes de todos los trabajos que nuestro Pedrito ha realizado en TV y en Cine. ¡Disfrutar!
#pedropascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedroispunk#the last of us#tlou#strange way of life#oberyn#dave york#snl#grogu#the mandalorian#joel miller#frankie morales x f!reader#ppascaldaily#ppascaledit
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O U C H | Pedro Pascal x f!reader | PART VII
Written by Santa Trindade
Banner by @missyorkswhore
Made in Brazil
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader
Summary: You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.
wc: 4.1k
rating/warnings: [Smut][Semi public sex] [unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f][Pedro injured] [sex on bathtub] [elevator][Pedro a little dom] [spanking ass] [Hold neck] [Curse words ][nipple play] [making out inside the car][Pedro speaks spanish]
a/n: My fellow followers, we are fast. I know. Pedro does help us imagine these kind of situation EASILY! just because he is HOT, even wearing an arm sling (poor baby). And yes, he is our slut winner always! More to come for the Emmys! 😘 please consider reposting, let’s spread it fucking hard! 🤘🏻
This Sunday was certainly one of the busiest since the year began, you arrived early at the salon to do hair, makeup and nails, it took you a long time to choose the best dress and perfect shoes for the Golden Globes.
Despite being a little cold in Los Angeles, you got a long dress with a naked back and slit in your left leg, perfect shoes, jewelry and hair, you were finally ready for the event.
The traffic of Los Angeles is always chaotic and today it would be no different, otherwise it is worse, there are so many cars, photographers and people. The driver goes near the entrance of the Bervely Hilton hotel, and as soon as you enter you already meet some friends and acquaintances. Your assistant is always pulling you, saying that you have little time as you walked towards the red carpet.
You give some interviews and as soon as you finish your interview with Vanity Fair, you turn around and see Pedro telling a reporter that he is injured because he fell, he hasn't seen you yet.
Pedro goes out in line for the red carpet photos, You are six people behind him, but even from afar you can see how beautiful he looks, black shirt with white details, black pants and equally black boots, you give a giggle when you see that he matched the arm sling with the clothes.
It's your turn to pose for the paparazzi, you position yourself behind the wall, look to your left and see that he is still taking pictures, talking, and even about the countless flashes, you feel his gaze on you.
You smile at the photographers and get close to Pedro, he opens a smile when he sees you, saying your name and extending his hand, pulling you close to him. He immediately puts his hand on your back, feeling your naked skin, his index finger makes small circles on your back while he talks to the man in front of you, you can barely understand what they talk about, it's so much noise and your mind focused only on the feeling of his finger playing with your skin.
Pedro's conversation ends, he pulls you by giving you a kiss on the cheek quickly while saying "See you later" giving a wink, he goes inside with his agent.
Your table is opposite to Pedro's, but you can still see him from where you are. During the awards your eyes meet each other, even from a distance.
He always smiling despite being hurt, he talks excitedly to everyone, with each winner who passes he gets up and greets.
You are so anxious to see him take the stage and receive the prize he deserves.
You already in your third Moet glass, and they finally announce the nominees for best drama actor, when they announce Pedro's name, you can't contain yourself, you get up and cheer for him, as if you were alone in your room in front of him, pleasuring him in the best way, whether about acting or how he fucks you until he leaves you breathless.
Unfortunately he does not win the category, so an idea comes to your mind, you are convinced that you will give him the best night ever.
Even after the defeat, Pedro doesn't stop smiling, you take your phone and send him a message "You are much bigger than any prize dear, let me show you that later?"
It takes a few minutes for him to see message, you look towards his table and giggle when you see him getting in the way holding his phone with only one hand, he puts the phone on his lap and types, a few seconds later his answer arrives, you feel your hands sweaty, a twink in your stomach when reading "I confess that I'm not happy about it, but now I'm very curious about how you will convince me that I'm worthy for you"
You bite your lip as you read and look at him, even a few meters away, you feel that brown sea on his eyes burning you, you just blink and raise your glass in a silent toast.
A few more awards are delivered, speeches are made, and you almost feel bad for not paying so much attention, almost. Your thoughts are in Pedro, hoping that everything ends soon for you to leave, and from what you look towards him, Pedro is not very different from you, his fingers hitting the table, playing with the glass between his fingers.
Finally the last prize is announced and delivered, everyone gets up, celebrating, lamenting. You dodge the invitations to the after party, claiming to have to wake up early for work, you go towards Pedro's table, he is taking some pictures with other people, you stand still finishing your last glass of champagne waiting anxiously to get his attention.
As soon as the last photo is taken, Pedro turns to you, that smile that only he has, stretching out his hand he says excitedly "Shall we go to the after party?" Your smile weakens at the time, you feel a twinge of disappointment, but you try miserably to disguise it, agreeing with your head, he laughs loudly and says "I got you! Come on, let's go to the car, I told you we're leaving" Pedro holds your hand and goes towards the exit, we stop a few times to greet some acquaintances, but Pedro always uses the same excuse -my arm is killing me, I forgot my medicine at home, sorry, next time I will-
Pulling you by the free hand, he always looks at me in the corner, bites his lip trying to hold a smile.
Pedro opens the car door to me and says softly with a shy smile "Can we go to your house tonight?".
You open your eyes and try to remember if everything is tidy and clean at your apartment, after all you remember isn’t that bad. "You got it! I have frozen pizza and beers" he laughs waving his head and raises his eyebrow, you get in the car and Pedro sits next to you, he puts his hand on your thigh and gently smoothes up and down, You look at his face and see him staring at you, eyes so expressive. His hand goes up until he finds the lace of your panties, he releases a cough while looking at the driver who is focused on traffic. You open your legs a little giving him more access to your pussy, you feel his middle finger go up and down pressing your clit, you look at him scared and say softly while you pretend to fix your earring "Are you crazy? El conductor lo verá"
He laughs and points with his head to the button next to you near the window "Press" he says, I press and then a black glass part rises between us and the driver.
Pedro raises his hand to your face, pulling you for a kiss, his lips taste like some strong drink, he sucks your tongue, bites your lower lip and whispers in your ear
"You can't even imagine how much I was waiting to put my hand under this dress." You open your legs, putting one on top of his, giving yourself to whatever he wants.
Pedro plays with the fabric of the dress, until you feel his fingers rub your clit over your panties. You close your eyes feeling him press his finger while his mouth says dirty things in your ear, you let out an involuntary moan, Pedro looks at you and tells you to be quiet, you smile and disguise.
You notice something in his hand that is bandaged, you bend to see and his nails have some kind of sticker, he laughs as you stretch his fingers and read _OUCH_
“What is this Pedro?!” You ask laughing, he answers between laughs "did you like it?"
We both laughed, you say yes, that you loved it, you take your hand out of his and slide on his head, your fingers wrapping in his curls, doing a massage, Pedro moans softly enjoying the massage. You watch his face, eyes closed, mouth slightly open while delighting in the massage, until you stop the movements opens his eyes staring at me. He is no longer smiling, neither you are, the atmosphere has changed, the car seems to heat up, you bring your lips closer to theirs while your other hand squeezes his thigh, going up to his groin, the tip of your nail circling the bulge that begins to harden. Pedro doesn't move, he just accepts your touches, you raise your hand until you find his belt, you open it and pull the zipper down, the only movement he makes with his body and raise his hips to give you access. You slide your hand in and feel his hot cock, you squeeze it and he moans throwing his head back. You raise your hand to the waistband of his boxers and run your index finger through the wet head with pre cum, he lets out a low swear word, when he sees you take his finger on your lips and suck it.
The car stop and you see that you are in front of your place.
Pedro stretches his hand over his thigh, adjusting the pants that shows his cock completely hard, you help him fix his belt and he gets out of the car. He extend his hand to you, you hold it firmly and leave, you take the keychain inside your bag, but it is so difficult to find the right one, because your brain freezes when you feel Pedro so close to your back, his hand playing with your hair, his fingers going up your back to the shoulders where he gently slide his nails, you hum
"This way we won't even get past the elevator Jose" he lets out a low giggle whispering a sorry.
As soon as you enter the hall, you press the elevator button and you feel that it is the twelve longest seconds of your life, the two of you looking closely at the elevator display, the tension is palpable, you look without blinking at the decreasing numbers _19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10_ you count down mentally and when the ten arrives, you feel Pedro hold your nape tightly, pulling you until you back hits his chest, he runs his nose through your shoulder until he reaches your jaw, where he licks and bites gently
"If that fucking elevator takes five more seconds to open, I swear to God I'll fuck you on that table over there, after all I haven't won my trophy yet" he says that and turns your neck to the side, making you see the little table where the flowers in the hall are.
The elevator warns you that it is on the ground floor scares you, your heart accelerates, you look at Pedro who is still so close to your face and just nod your head towards the elevator door.
As soon as you enter, you press number 24, when the doors close, you ask Pedro to hold your bag, he holds and stares at you, you lean your back against the elevator wall and squat a little and putting your hand under your dress - thank God the side slit helped me - you take off your panties and when tou get up you find his eyes looking at you and looking for cameras in the elevator, you giggle and approach to get your bag while knead your panties in your hand and put them in his front pocket.
Pedro doesn't say anything, the growl that comes out of his throat speaks more than a thousand words.
The elevator warns tou that you are on the right floor, but you still need to look for the key inside the bag.
“Key, right?” He says while you search my bag
_God, I had them in my hand a few minutes ago_
Pedro pushes you against the wall, at the same time he slides his fingers on your lips making you open them, he puts two fingers in your mouth and makes you suck it, he takes out his fingers and holds your chin, making you raise your face more towards him, giving you a quick kiss, he slides his fingers wet with your saliva inside the slit of your dress, his fingers rubbing your clit, sticking two fingers in your pussy.
You let out a low moan and then kiss, your left hand on his chin smoothing his beard while the other still looks for a key inside the bag.
His fingers in and out of you, you suck his lip and move away, interrupting the kiss you raise my hand, shaking the key between your fingers
“Found it!”
He laughs and takes his fingers out of you, and takes it to his lips, sucking. You open the door, Pedro pulls you towards your room, which he is already familiar with, he sits on your bed, takes your panties out of his pocket and extends it to his side and says:
“You did this, can you take off my clothes as well?”
Without thinking, you approach him, you knee down and start with the boots and socks, never breaking eye contact.
You are between his legs and drag your hands until you find his belt, unbuckle and slowly open a button, stop and look at him, as if asking for permission
"Yeah babe, like this" he says with a smile on his face, you open the other button and open the zipper. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull his pants so slowly that you can feel the anxiety in the air.
You throw his pants to the side and see how hard he is, you slide your hands over his underwear, his cock is pulsating and hot, kneeling in front of him, you bring your face closer to his cock and run your tongue over his underwear following the entire length, feeling the moisture in the fabric.
Pedro sighs and looks up, murmuring something you don't even understand, you just feel his left hand grabbing your hair, letting out a growl he tells you to get up and sit on his lap. You get up and when you put your hand on the zipper of the dress to take it off, Pedro interrupts me
"Deja el vestido puesto!"
You put one leg on each side of his hip, Pedro moans low when he feels your wet pussy in contact with his thigh, you feel his hand squeezing your nape again, you smile at him while your hands play with the details of the shirt he wears.
"You are so wet babe" without answering you just kiss, your lips touch each other first softly, you feel tickled when the mustache he rubs against your skin, his hand loosens the grip on your hair and slowly goes down your back, the kiss goes wide, you bite his lower lip, pulling between his teeth and licking when releasing,
Pedro never moves his hand away from your body, you feel his thigh press your pussy, you rub yourself feeling the few hairs on his leg in contact with your swollen clit and in need of touch, Pedro lowers his hand to your hip, pulling you down while raising his thigh, you release a moan in his mouth, so what he says is enough for your body to know that he is in complete abstinence "Ride on my thigh... enjoy rubbing against me" Pedro lies on the bed, wearing only his shirt and underwear, you put your hands on his chest and you start rubbing slowly. Pedro doesn't take his eyes off yours, his hand is still on your hip encouraging me to speed up the movements, leading me.
You throw your head back, feeling a heat take over your body, you feel the orgasm rise in your stomach, your clit pulsating, feeling his thigh slide easily in your excitement.
"Come on babe give me, I want to feel you" Pedro begs and squeezes your breast over the dress, you rub harder feeling your orgasm wet his whole thigh "Oh my god Pedro please"
"Yeah babe like that ride me like that" you moan his name, you murmur things that you don't even know what they mean, as soon as you feel your body calm down you open your eyes and there they are, those brown eyes burning me, eqting you alive. You get out of his thigh, dragging you down until you get on your knees on the floor, Pedro runs two fingers on his wet thigh and moans while licking his fingers, as if you were his favorite dessert.
He leans on his left elbow and stares at you you run your nails through his legs, reaching the waistband of his boxers, and before pulling you look him in the eyes and say softly
"Let me demonstrate how important you are my dear"
You slowly pull his undies, his cock jumps hitting his tummy, drops of pre cum flooding his cock head.
You hold his cock by the base and make slow movements from the bottom up, watching the fat drops of pre cum accumulate, wetting your fingers. Without taking your eyes off his eyes you put his cock in your mouth and make circles with the tip of your tongue, cleaning his excitement, you put it in your mouth until you feel the tip of his cock hit your throat, extending your hands and stroke his tummy inside his fancy shirt.
"Help me get this out" you let go of his cock and get up, carefully opening the velcro of his arm sling, you help him take off his shirt throwing it to the side where his clothes turn to a pile. Pedro pulls you making you ride on his lap, you feel his cock hit against your clit, you put your hand between your bodies and holding his cock by the base you fit into your pussy and sit, feeling every inch of it inside you.you both moan loudly, you stand still and help put the arm sling again
"I want you to be safe babe" he laughs and squeezes your ass and moves his hips up entering deeper into you, you push him to lie down and lean over him, gluing your lips to his you bounce on his cock for a while.
"Take off that dress" he says. You get up and pull the side zipper of your dress, Pedro calls you with his fingers and asks you to lie on the bed, he kneels between your legs and stroke your thighs, your belly, circling your nipples.
"I won tonite anyways" he says as he holds his cock by the base and rubs it against your clit.
Pedro slides his cock inside you slowly, taking advantage of every inch, while smoothing the side of your thigh threatening to snap you stretch your hands and scratch his thick thighs.
You feel his nails scratch your thigh and soon the burning of the slap "Come on babe take me all" you push your hips against his, the only sound in the room is your breaths with low moans.
Pedro slides his hand down your neck, squeezing and down until he finds your nipples, he squeezes and rotates between his fingers, making you squeeze his cock with your pussy "fuck Pedro, please I need more" he stop moving, he just keeps looking at me raising an eyebrow while squeezing your nipple between his fingers
"Do you need more? "And giggles
You slide your foot on his tummy pushing him away, you kneel on the bed getting face to face with him, you lick and bite every piece of skin you find, you jerking him off, feeling your fingers get wet with pre cum and your excitement
"On all fours my little bitch" he orders with a slap on your ass, you turn around getting your face pressed against the mattress, you feel Pedro's hand stroke your ass, and then the sound of a slap echoes through the room next to your moan, another slap and you hear him squat, then his lips are in your pussy, his tongue entering you like a cock, he moans against your pussy, making you feel the vibrations of his hoarse voice.
Before getting up you feel his saliva dripping through your pussy, another slap on your ass and you feel his cock hitting your clitoris, rubbing you hard, he moans and curses not being able to have both hands free, Pedro sticks his whole cock into your pussy, taking a loud moan from both of you.
"Fuck Pedro don't fucking stop please" he trust hard, you feel another orgasm forming, his skin hitting against you, his hand passing through your back, scratching your skin.
"Touch your clit, give me one more babe one fucking more" you put your hand in the middle of your legs and it doesn't take many movements to cum on his cock, you feel yourself explode, making you scream the name of Pedro.
"Fuck babe I'm going to fill your pussy" Pedro speed up the movements, his left hand squeezing your hip hard, you feel hot jets of cum flooding your pussy, Pedro moaning your name while slapping your ass a few more times
"Your pussy is milking me you fucking bitch" Pedro throws himself next to you on the bed, breathing with difficulty, he looks at you and laughs and now you realize that he didn't even take off his glasses, the disheveled hair gives an extremely unique look. Him.
"Fuck the awards" he says laughing, panting, you kiss him and say softly
"More awards to come Pedrito, relax" he smiles stretching his hand and slapping you in the ass
"I will win them all! Let's go to the shower"
Pedro stares at you as you undo the velcro of his arm sling “What?" He just smiles saying that out of nowhere, the bathtub is almost full, you enter and feel your feet thank the hot water, you sit down and call him, he approaches and sits behind you, pulling you to have your back glued to his chest, you put your head between his neck and shoulder, stretching your right hand while you play with his hair.
You feel his left hand playing with your nipples, slowly going down yourbelly until you find my clit.
"Hmmm I'm still not happy I need more awards" he says this and puts his leg under yours, making it almost impossible for you to close your legs, the middle and index finger draw circles through your clit, in and out his finger inside you. You tilt your head more looking for his lips, kissing him while you release moans every time you feel him put two fingers inside your pussy.
"I want you to hold my cock with that beautiful hand and put it in that tight little pussy and ride me "
Every word he said was a thrust of his fingers inside you, you turn around and sit on his lap, holding his cock with your right hand, Pedro doesn't wait a second and is already pushing myou down to bury himself inside you. Pedro sucks and bites your nipples, climbs his tongue until he finds your lips, his hand holding your ass tigh, guiding how he wants me to roll.
"Fuck, you're so hot, that pussy squeezes me so hard"
Your moan is loud, your nails scratch his shoulders, your lips meet the skin of his neck where you slide your tongue whispering in his ear how you love to feel his cock all inside you.
Pedro holds the back of your neck making you look into his eyes "Cum on my cock, squeeze me" you grind more feeling your clit rubbing on his lower belly, the orgasm growing inside you, your hands hold his shoulders tightly
"Fuck I'm going to cum"
His hand grabs my neck, squeezing hard as he orders "Now" your moans are weak due to the force he holds your neck, you feel your body tremble
"I'm going to fill your fucking pussy with cum, kiss me please" your kiss is desperate, your moans are loud, Pedro’s hand runs through your body desperate to touch every inch of your skin.
"Fuck, that was much better than any award" he speaks in the midst of laughter you kiss his shoulder and bury your face on his neck
"Always so good... Hmmm pizza and beers?" He laughs loudly and gives you a slow kiss.
"Fuck yeah pizza and beers!"
———————————
Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal x f!reader#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#pedro pascal fanfiction#joel miller#pedro pascal imagine#pedrohub#dieter bravo#joel miller x reader#dieter bravo x reader#dave york x reader#javier pena x you#javier gutierrez
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18+ account - minors do not interact warnings/tags included on each individual work.
No use of Y/N in anything.
Thank you for reading ❤️
Series
The Way We Were - series [complete] : You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. When the outbreak happens, you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Look What We've Become - series [sequel to TWWW - complete] : You are tasked with taking a young girl back to her family while trying to salvage your relationship with Joel after certain events cause the biggest strain either of you have ever had to face.
I'll Be Home For Christmas [complete, but sporadic updates] Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Somewhere to Run - series [complete] : You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.
I Know Who You Are - series [in progress]: A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
Roommates - series [in progress]: Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, lines get blurred.
One-Shots/Requests
I hate when you're right : After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him to leave Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.
Have A Good Night [coming soon]: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.
One-Shots/Requests/Collections
The Stranger: An unexpected visitor barges into your new apartment, turning your whole life upside down, then disappears just as quickly. Or does he?
-> Unveiled - pt. 2 of The Stranger
credit to @saradika-graphics for the dividers
Headers were made on canva by myself
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal#the last of us game#the way we were joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#dave york x reader#dave york#the equalizer 2 fanfic#the equalizer
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FLAT LINE || dark!Dave York x f!reader || 800
18+ mdni DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non con, smut
creator chose not to use all the warnings
*****
His obsidian eyes are boring into yours, as you’re thrashing and wriggling, completely naked, while his hand on your throat is holding you pressed to the bed. Your legs are getting tangled tighter and tighter in the cold sheets, soaked with your and your boyfriend’s sweat and cum.
You two were having one of those nights, drinking, smoking and fucking on a loop until this monster slithered into your house and took a shot. Only one for now but you’re sure there’ll be one more.
You’re trying to push him off with your trembling hands, eyes darting between his bloodcurdling stare and the splatter of blood on your wrist. Soon you focus only on them as your mind tries to save you from seeing the whole picture-you’re dying tonight.
The killer lets go your throat, you cough and then try to scream but like in a nightmare nothing comes out of your burning throat.
When he’s done condescending you with this joke of a fight he grabs your hands and cuffs you to the bed. You haven’t done this with your boyfriend tonight but the images of him tying you up a few times before emerge from your memory and you gush more.
As if sensing this pathetic reaction of your body, the man spreads your legs and leers at your puffy cunt.
“You’ve had a fun night, sweetheart?”
His tone is calm, static like a flat line and your heart seems to stop beating, as if already giving up.
His fingers easily slip inside your stretched hole and you jerk and try to kick him off. The killer grabs your ankles and holds them pressed to his shoulder, one big hand is enough to keep your legs together.
He renders you completely helpless, hands chained to the bed, legs bound by his strong grip.
His fingers return to your hole and he pushes them deep into you, with the same cold dead eyes.
“How many times did he come inside you tonight?”
You mewl at the question, staring up at him, vision blurry with tears.
He quickly pushes your legs off his shoulder and holds them up. You squeal even before he slaps your cunt with the back of his hand. Hard. It burns like hell but your whole body buzzes as the stroke sends a wave of arousal from your overstimulated clit to every cell in your body.
“How…many?” He slowly repeats the question and you hurry to reply, scared of another hit.
“Three”
“Good,” he says and gently rubs your swollen pussy.
You half moan, half cry out as your walls contract at his touch.
He breathes in sharply when a trickle of creamy liquid flows out of your hole.
“She’s all used up and filled to the brim. Lovely.”You hear him say quietly and to your horror he opens his pants with a free hand and pulls out his cock. It’s hard and huge and you whine a pathetic ‘please’ which he leaves completely unnoticed.
He sits on his knees and then gets on top of you, your ankles still in his hand, caging your legs between his body and yours.
The killer plunges in fast and hard, quickly parting your walls with his thick long cock. He’s bigger than your boyfriend and you feel a sting of the stretch.
The man moans over you, pleasure twisting his face, very close to yours now. Hearing him you can’t stop your pussy from squeezing his length.
“So much cum, sweetheart. Feel it pouring out?My balls are soaked,” He whispers against your cheek, his soft lips tickling you.
“Please,” you mewl once again and once again it stays unnoticed.
He lets go of your legs and you don’t have time to react before he manhandles you into a mating-press, bracing his elbows on the bed by your shoulders and starts pounding into you. Your abused cunt burns at first but all the cum inside quickly turns the pain into pleasant stimulation and you chew on your swollen lips.
He growls and roars over your heated face and you squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment hearing your pussy squelch loudly as his cock churns your boyfriend’s cum inside your cunt.
“Can she take one more?” You hear him growl and open your eyes in fear. If he comes soon it means you have only seconds.
“Please, please, let me go… don’t k…” his palm slaps over your mouth and he bites your cheek, making you squeal into his hand.
“Shut up. Daddy’s coming.”
A few more thrusts and you see him close his eyes as he stills while his warmth is spilling inside you. Then he rolls his hips, spurting his seed again and again until you’re so full of cum you feel it press on your walls already stretched out by his cock.
When he seems to be done, his lips brush against your stinging cheek and you feel cold metal pressed to your temple.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” is the last thing you hear.
*****
Thank you for reading!
Comments and reblogs will make my praise kink go brrrr!
No tag list for this one. If you’d like to be tagged in my dark fics, let me know♥️
#dave york x you#dark!dave york#pedro pascal#dead dove do not eat#tw noncon#dave york x f!reader#dave york fic#dave york#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#I’m on my period ok#dave york smut#dave york x reader#dave york the equalizer 2#dave york fanfiction#the equalizer 2#tw dead dove#dead dove fic#dead dove#tw blood#tw death#murder daddy#dark fic#dark fanfiction#blurb#ficlet
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Handling the Situation
A Dave York Fan Fic
Damn it Dave… why are you the best person to write. I mean I’m not complaining. I enjoy it, it makes me feel good. But I always think I take forever now to write him as it needs to be right. So here we are on another Dave York Saturday, getting our fill of our favourite stabby murder daddy.
Synopsis:- You are Dave Yorks handler & have been for 2 years since an injury meant you couldn’t be an assassin anymore. You both have mutual feeling for each other which neither of you have decided to explore until now.
Work count:- 7200
Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Lack of consent, unprotected sex, boss employee relationship, mutual pining, stalking, murder, assassin stuff, car jacking, PIV, masturbation, cum tasting, fingering, swearing, cheating & adultery. Dave being controlling but what’s new there 🤣.
Yea this was something to right. I hope you all enjoy peoples. Thanks for the read.
“Wait a second” Dave York scowls as he looks at the Mismatching maps he’s got in front of him . One on his screen, & one as a hard copy. “This map is dated from 1998, why do I have a copy of this” his big brown eyes dart between the two. You let out an exasperated sigh.
“Mr York if you’d have let me finish my sentence…” you start before he interrupts.
“Is it hard being the smartest person in the room?”
“I wouldn’t know, is it?” You scoff back & get up from your chair on the other side of his desk & make your way over to him. He would have rolled his eyes at your comment but after 2 years of you being Dave’s handler you’ve both got bored of it. Even though you like the little smirk he pulls afterwards. There’s mischief deep inside this killer. You get to his computer screen & stretch the map. A small sniff of his cologne always arouses you. His warm breath filling your personal space. Your hand grips his over the mouse. It still makes you shiver but not as much as it used to. “Now hold the old school map up to the screen Mr York” Dave does as you requested & you then turn the screen into dark mode. It’s clear now why you had provided him with the older map.
“Are those tunnels?”
“Yes from where they built the subway network” you look at him & he nods. “A third exit should you need it & Thompson isn’t alone or there’s other interested party’s, if you follow this one…”You point & explain that it will lead him a mile away to a power plant.
“Clever girl” he says & he smacks your bum. You try to not moan. Dave flirts with everyone, because he is the best assassin he gets away with it, also his job does require some intimate work from time to time but he has never seen you more than the best handler for him. You used to be an assassin as well until someone sliced off half of your trigger fingers nuckle . But you always planned your own missions before that, so when you decided to become an analyst & handler, Dave practically begged for you. He knew you’d keep him alive. You know what he needs to do to stay at the top & in one piece.
You both then finalise the next few bits of next Wednesdays mission so you can type it up this afternoon for him. It should then be approved on Monday & then the two of you(well mainly you) can get everything in place for Wednesday to take Thompson out. Dave is always impressed with your dedication to the cause he does wonder if you ever switch off. As you remove the usb stick from his computer, along with his signature on the initial report, so you can proposes the final changes, you head to his office door.
“Anything else I can help you with Mr York” you say in a chirpy tone. He usually will say nothing or just ask for another coffee.
“Nah your alright…” but then as you go to leave Dave then chirps up “… weekend plans?” Dave’s never asked you about your weekend plans before. You a little bit stunned. You both keep home & work separate hence you only call him Mr York.
“Erm yes… I do” you turn back to face him gripping your lap top. “My boyfriend wants to take me out for dinner for our 1 year anniversary” Dave looks shocked at this.
“A boyfriend? You kept that quiet”
“You never asked” you giggle “also we’ve actually been together 20 months, but he says it wasn’t official until he’d met my parents & my parents live in Texas”
“Hmm man’s got principles I guess, what does he do”
“He’s an accountant” you say with a sigh ”boring I know but safe, no one’s gonna look for an assassin or a handler with a boring jobed partner.” You say. You know Dave is married, Carol you believe from what you’ve found online about her, that she works as a manager at the big grocery store out of town.
“True, you hoping he asks the question, so you can be more committed” Dave asks. You can’t help but blush at that.
“Well every girls dream is to say I do & walk down the aisle in a white dress so why not,”
“You’d say yes”
“Absolutely, I love him” you suddenly realise this is the most Dave has asked you about your life in the 2 years you’ve been by his side. Pinning for a man you know is unavailable in both your worlds. No sex with coworkers you have always had that rule & keep work & home separate. “What about you Mr York”
“Work & I might watch the golf, might even go up to the cabin I haven’t decided yet” he reply’s he picks up his phone & his lips bite the side of it. He does this from time to time. It always arouses you & you try to not let it affect you. “I genuinely do hope he asks you, I hope he deserves you”
“Thank you Mr York, have a nice weekend yourself” you then do a little smile & leave, once his office door is closed you sigh & calm down. Dave was genuinely nice to you & made you feel seen. You’re angry at yourself for getting aroused while he was being polite. You shake your head & walk back to your desk, this proposal won’t write itself.
*
Dave sits there in his car, watching. He’s been following you for the last 6 months, since you wore that daisy dress to work when you were going out to a birthday afterward & he saw the real you, you let your guard down that day at work & were care free & happy. Dave’s wanted to get to know the real you from that moment. Since then with his own skills he’s followed you around. At a safe distance of course & cleverly. After all Dave is the best assassin in the world he easily goes undetected.
He sits there outside Donatello���s the Italian restaurant, a place you & your other half often frequent & he’s looking at your face. You seem bored & disinterested in the conversation. It’s also not just you as you had said to him on friday, there are friends around you, but by the looks of it mostly his friends. You politely laugh back & smile but the look on your face as you dig into another okayish carbonara says a million things. This should have been your special night but no it’s turned into him & 6 of his mates & 2 of their partners around the table too.
Dave can see your eyes show no emotion in them. You’re not giving anything to this. This was not how you thought your Saturday night would go & neither did Dave. He is half tempted to get out the car, walk into the busy restaurant, March up to you lift you over his shoulders with no explanation to anyone, put you in the back seat of his car & fuck you there & then. That’s what Dave wants. That’s what he’d do in this situation & he now pretty sure from the look on your face that you’ve not cum in months. Obviously standard & safe isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
*
“Fuck” Gus moans as he fills the condom up & rolls off you. You’ve not cum it’s been months & he keeps persisting on using a condom. You like that he practices safe sex but it would be easier for you to be on a birth control that was half decent. He had said no & actually went with you to the doctors to say that you wouldn’t be going on it unless it was injections. You’re seeing the doctor on friday for your next round.
“Well baby that was a decent day” he says & he softly kisses your lips & gets out of bed tying the condom of his already limp penis as he put his boxers on. “& you as always were so good then”
“Yea it was good” you lie to Gus, today had all been about him & his mate Harry. He bumped into him when he was on his morning run & suddenly a day you thought might be romantic & passionate turned into a lads day. You like his friends but today should have been about the two of you & what is happening right now proves it. He’s getting dressed.
“You know you can stay Gus” you say as you scoot along the bed & massage his shoulders to help him relax & start to kiss his neck. “Maybe I want morning cuddles maybe I’m not done yet”
“Baby I’ll be surprised if you can walk after what I just did to you, you’re clearly in a sex haze” you are glad he can’t see you roll your eyes. 9minutes that’s how long he lasted before he came, you clit was neglected & he just humped his way through it. When you do cum it does feel good but it’s been lacking a lot recently. He’s not the sex god he takes himself for.
“So why are you leaving? Why can’t you stay”
“Work starts at 6am on Monday but budget meeting at 8am, so I can’t have distractions tomorrow I need to be at mine”
“But baby it’s…”
“Shhh go to sleep beautiful & I’ll let you know I get home safe”he doesn’t even kiss your lips. It’s your cheek & he heads out of your apartment. You know safe & boring is best but you can’t be doing this for the rest of your life. You need 1 last adventure before you settle down & Gus isn’t hitting the spot in lots of ways at the moment. Once you hear him lock the door behind him, you get out your newest vibrator, & build up the settings as it pleasures your naked body as you rhyth in bed. As you climax on your favourite setting, you giggle at the name that escapes your mouth. You hand & toy are coated in your slick as you moan the name “Dave!” As you reach the best high you will have this weekend.
*
“Morning Mr York” you announce as you walk into his office with his usual black coffee & information for him on the missions approval. It’s the usual Monday happy patter from you. If you start off happy it might rub off on the moody Dave. You notice him in his light blue shirt scrolling through his phone perched on the edge of his desk, deep in thought.
“Morning” he reply’s not looking up. Lost on his phone. He briefly looks up as you shut the door & then he stops & looks up again. You’re in a very nice floral green dress which is buttoned all the way up & stops just above the knee. Your hair is in a messy bun & you have a small heel on. Dave has a double look, your shiny legs sticking out as you hand him his coffee.
“What Mr York, can’t I put in a bit of effort from time to time” you say as he keeps looking you up & down as you hand him his coffee.
“Obviously, it’s just there’s something different about you today,” he says with a smile & then bites on the corner of his phone trying not to think about what he would do to you. “But I notice something hasn’t changed..” he, once he’s put his coffee down, grips your left hand stroking across your fingers “… I see & feel no ring unless your picking one together” Dave sees your face drop a little, your chirpy mood moves on as you sign.
“Yea, turns out my boyfriend wanted it to be more of a friends thing for our anniversary than just us” you say “I still had a nice dinner…”
“& a good fucking?” Dave interupts & you turn bright red straight away.
“Mr York!” You shriek.
“What? You’re a woman you have needs, just like all men & women have needs” he says with a smirk. The hand that was holding yours now brings the coffee cup to his lips, always looking so plump. His phone is on the desk as he strokes his thigh. “So I’m guessing you didn’t have a moment of pure passion then”
“Mr York, there’s a reason we keep our work & private lives separate, I don’t think I want to talk about my sex life with you”
“What if I as your boss asked you to?” He says & winks before slurping more coffee.
“& here I was thinking this was going to be a normal Monday meeting to approve a few things before Wednesday” you scoff & smile. “Let’s just say that my man thinks he gets my needs met but once he’s happy that’s that”
“Damn, a man should always look after his woman first, preferably with oral or fingers strumming her cunt open”
“DAVE!” He pulls a face as you shout this at him “sorry… MR. YORK!” You shout again & then both laugh.
“don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’m amazed you still formally call me Mr York, I’m not gonna murder you for a slip of the tongue like that”
“I’d like to see you try” you respond back instantly.
“Oooh fighting talk, I like that” he says with a devilish smile. “& if I’m honest you’d give back as well as you took” somehow you now know this isn’t talking about fighting talk. Your minds gone dirty.
“Well what can I say, I think all things should be equal, giving & receiving, don’t you?”
“No I like to be in control” he says abruptly almost cutting you off. “I like to know where I stand with everything, so that when I give, it’s given good”his hand forcefully grabs your wrist . “That’s why you’ve not applied to be an Assassin again.” You look dumb struck at him.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business Mr…”
“But it is my business, your my business.” He tugs you towards him as he stands up his right hand grips your chin, firmly. “Imagine if we were a team, 2 assassin working together, the world we could create the missions we could achieve, doesn’t that sound good to you” he whispers all of this in your ear seductively. Your breathing has hitched. You feel his hand start to drift yours to his bulge.
“Dave… I”
But before your hand makes contact & you do something you might regret, the phone in the office rings.
“Fuck” Dave basically launches you out of his personal space & leans over the desk to grab the phone. His moody tone is there. “York, this had better be good” you stand there awkwardly while he berates someone on the phone for not doing the vehicle clean at the weekend for Wednesday. He then smirks at you & says down the phone. “I’m sure my handler can handle the situation, she likes all things being equal” before he slams the receiver down.
“I’ll go deal with that then Mr York, here’s the files for Wednesday” you say & don’t even really look at him. Had he sexually harassed you before that phone call? You hadn’t kissed or touched him. Was it his power over you? As much as he knows you can do what he does, does he enjoy those moments.
It’s not long after you sit behind your desk sorting out the last few things that for Wednesday’s mission that you get a message from him.
We good? Y
You smirk & reply.
Nothings changed Mr York, let’s concentrate on the mission
Glad you’re handling all of it so well. He reply’s
*
Dave lies in his bath on Tuesday night. He always has a bath the night before a mission. It calms him down. Carol always moans that he takes too long, but she lets him off, she knows he has “an important client” tomorrow. He should have asked her to join him in the bath, get his frustrations out on her, but he didn’t instead he’s got the last 5 days cctv from work of you, watching you bend over to pick up files, that little giggle you do with the tech guys & then he watches all the interactions he’s had with you. His length is pulsing, throbbing in his hand as he listens via his ear pods, a few suggestive things said between you both.
“Fuck baby” he growls as the bath water which was starting to get a bit too cold, now has lashes of his cum added to it. He almost knocks his iPad into the bath, as he jerks away mumbling your name.
*
“Coms check” you say as you get out of the car to set up your own radar to do the mission on Wednesday afternoon.
“Loud & clear sweetheart,”
“Good, although we should still use the code names Boss, not sweetheart, no matter how nice that sounds” you say as you look roughly at the spot he will be setting up his sniper rifle. It’s a clear day, not as many people about as you thought & Dave should have a clear shot to take the target out. Everything is going to plan, a little too well to plan you have in the back of your mind. You slip into the back seat of your Audi with the blacked out windows & connect the additional radar to your set up so you can monitor everything as the doors lock.
“Well I’m okay with calling you Hand if you want, I mean I am the boss,” he jokes back to you once he sees you are safe in the back of the car & looks through his site at the building 2 blocks away from you. “But what would you really like me to call you” he says & you can heart his breath hitch in your ear piece. Is Dave flirting with you on a mission?
“Boss, I’m gonna call you Boss” your trying to keep focused, it’s your job to keep other things entertained while Dave does his killing & to let clean up know when he’s done & to also check for possible complications.
“Well I’ll make sure you do call me that on every occasion, & I can hear your eyes rolling” Dave chuckles. His tone then changes. “Package has arrived” you’re always so amazed that Dave can switch it on & off so quickly. The target has arrived in the building & that’s now his main objective. You & carol could be scissoring in front of Dave right now & he wouldn’t notice at all. You’re glad he’s back in the zone.
“Traffic is good, from what I can see his next lot of security should arrive in 11mins, but oooh no” you click 8 buttons to cause lights to go Green & cause 2 traffic collision “looks like they will be delayed by 6mins taking the alternative route.” You click your timer for 18mins & so does Dave, you hear the beep from his watch down the phone. You both know that being 2 blocks away means you can get back to Dave before that time, but Dave’s got to make sure he doesn’t get spotted & if he needs to additional hits need to happen.
“Copy that” Dave says & you hear the clicks & snaps of the rifle ready to take aim.
“In your own time Boss” you say & then you hear one of your favourite things in the world. You’d never tell Dave this but it’s the way he breathes as he slows his heart rate down to get the perfect clean shoot. It’s not all bang like in the movies. Dave can do that, obviously with all the drama & can kill at close range & get into a fight if he has to, but him sniping someone & the way those lips softly part at each exhale, it’s so attractive. His eyes dilated in concentration too. You enjoy it for a few seconds you get to hear it before the burst of noise. Dave makes the shot after only 2minutes after the timer started.
“Clean, precise, call clean up” Dave declares down the radio.
“Confirm?”
“Confirm target down”
You then switch to your clean up squad who are on the ground floor of the building (hence why tunnels were needed on your map originally, but they were a final back up for Dave) & you tell them to move in with their timer set for 5mins there’s 4 of them so they can do it that quickly. You can hear Dave packing his gun away.
“Estimate?”
“4 no 6minutes, the lifts not working”
“Copy” you quickly leap out the back seat of the car & get back into the drivers seat & put your foot down. This means Dave expects to be coming out of the back door of the rendezvous at that exact time. Your car should be there so he can get out of the door & into in it 10seconds before you drive off. Your sat nav is linked to the set up in the back of the car for the best route, to avoid all the issues you set up with traffic earlier.
“Clean ups just confirmed clean & identification Boss” you say to him with you being 2 minutes out. Dave doesn’t reply, if he’s got that many stairs a to run down, he’s conserving energy. You eventually approach the building next to the one Dave took his shot from & slow down to do a reconnaissance loop, everything is clear, so you put the car in reverse ready to go & collect Dave. You pull up 20 seconds early & hit the unlock button to the car door, when suddenly the door flys open & two large hand drag you out.
“Fuck” your scream grabbing the keys & putting it in down the back of black leggins.
A burly face looks at you but your now more concerned that there is cold steal of a barrel now against your forehead.
“Keys now” a voice screams from the side of you. You realise that you’re about to be car jacked. It’s the second man who screams this. & you just shake you head at them, as your eyes fill up with water. These guys must have seen you do a loop & waited for you to pull up. They can’t have this car for so many reason.
“Seriously gents, you’ve picked the wrong day & car to Jack. Just walk away & it won’t cost you your life” you say calmly, but you gulp. they both have masks covering their faces but you can see their eyes. The one with the gun pointed at your head his hand is slightly shaking. The one who has you gripped against the door frame is much firmer, but you can tell my his eyes & hair he’s no more than 19. You don’t want Dave to have to kill these two who have just got lucky today in your 3 second lapse of concentration. It’s most unlike you. You’re also speaking very clearly because you know Dave will be picking this up.
“Ha” the one holding you cackles. “& what makes you think we won’t shoot you & take the car anyhow” you quickly side eye the barrel & realise they are blanks which will still hurt but won’t kill. You can also hear Dave counting down from 20 in your ear, he’s clearly waiting for his moment.
“Because” you stutter as the grip around your neck gets more as your hand reaches to the back of the car seat which has a small knife in the head rest. “Your amateurs…”
“We’re pros” click. Dave has snuck up to the one holding the gun behind him his gun firmly against his head. “& you picked the wrong day to do this”. The other man looks in shock his grip lessens. It’s enough time for you to wiggle slightly & grab your knife, in all of 4 seconds its plunged into the man with the guns thigh. The scream he lets out is ear piercing.
*
“Where the fuck were you?”
“Why were you early?”
“Why did you not tell me there were people near?”
“Why the fuck didn’t you check for blind spots & randoms?”
Dave & you have been going back & forth for all the way back to HQ since the incident.
Luckily you were both covered enough by your faces that you didn’t need to kill the two kids. Taking them hostage was never plan. Instead you took the two of them who you both injured & dropped them near an emergency room. The smell of piss & vomit you get used to, but it’s still not nice, the car valet will not happy that they have to deal with that. But they were just kids trying to car Jack with a fake empty gun. Anyone else would have given in but they just happened to go for you.
“Because I did so I did my slow loop & came back to your exit, & in the time after I’d checked the back mirror & unhooked my seatbelt to come & open the door he’d sprung up”
“But from where” Dave demands.
“I don’t fucking know Dave okay!” You snap back, a little too harshly.“Another door or behind a bin or over the fence, I don’t have a clue, but the car wasn’t stolen & we completed our mission”
“& to think I was…” Dave then pauses & rubs the back on his head his black beanie hat coming off as he does it. He the looks you up & down. You’re sat on his desk in your black skin tight leggins, black vest top & you still have your own beanie on. Your jacket hanging off the door.
“Say it Dave” he knows your as pissed at him as he is with you. You’ve used his first name twice now.
“No it will just piss you off even more”
“Well I’m already angry & moody so you may as well…”
“I was gonna fill out you application to get you license back!” He interrupted abruptly & the room falls silent, those words hanging in the air.
“Dave, you… you were what…” it a soft tone that leaves your mouth for the first time in about an hour.
“I was going to apply for you to be a full time assassin again.” He shrugs “but if your gonna get jumped by some kids maybe your not up for it, maybe you have lost your game & nerve” he’s rubbing his neck as he says this. His chest is heaving. That skin tight black tshirt is stuck to him. He’s taken off his Kevlar vest & is looking mighty fine, everything clearly defined, including the outline under his black cargo trousers.
“Dave I… I don’t know what to say, thank you & also fuck you for saying I have lost my nerve”
“Well if I’m honest…” his voice trembles “…I’m not sure I can have you being my handler anymore” that shocks you. You freeze, time stops, you don’t breath, your heart doesn’t pump. You eyes fill up.
“What!” You panic. This job means the world to you, if Dave doesn’t want you as his handler something must have happened. He stares at the floor. “You can’t just say that Dave & not fully expect me to understand without an…” you don’t get the word explanation out of your mouth. Dave marches across the office & grips your chin before his lips vigorously clash with yours. You lean on the desk, stuck in the spot, you minds tell you no for so many reasons but it only takes a second for your hand to trial down his side & rest of his hip. His own hands are holding & caressing your face. Kissing you like his life depended on it. You feel alive for the first time in a while at someone’s touch & you instantly feel arsoual taking over.
“Dave” you mumble as you push him back slightly. “We can’t, for so many reason. You’re my boss I’m your handler, I have a boyfriend you have…”
“When did he last make you cum?” He says bluntly.
“Erm…”
“Exactly” you aren’t wearing a belt his hand slides straight down your leggins under your panties & straight for your clit. He smirks that it is so slick. “Good girl” you gasp, as he calls you this the friction has started.
“Mmmmmm fuck” you moan before Dave’s lips find yours again, he nips a few times at your bottom lip while he sees to you, his tongue more than welcome inside your mouth.
“Dave… stop I’m gonna … i… I…”
“Let go sweetheart let Dave handle the situation for a change” you then feel two long fingers slip inside you & the friction is intense.
“Oooooohhhhhhh fucking fuck” you gush & cry as he makes you cum harder than you have done at any point in the last 3 months with Gus. He is delighted how quickly he got you off as you are perched there panting. “Fuck Dave, we we shouldn’t. Your married”
“It’s not technically cheating as long as I don’t cum inside you”
“What!?” You say in shock, before he lifts you up & he pulls you leggins & panties down in one movement, his eyes light up at the mess you have both made.
“Oooh fuck baby” he growls before he Burries his head between your thighs lapping away at the wetness dripping down.
“Dave stop”
“Why?”
“We shouldn’t”
“You really want me to stop? What does your body tell you?” He lifts his head as he removes your shoes so everything comes off from the waste down. It gives you a few second to think.
“My body is enjoying it & my head says I deserve it, but my heart…”
“Gus doesn’t deserve you, you’ve been miserable, let me take care of you”he says as he strips off his black skin tight tshirt. You know the man is Broad & well built but this is a feast for the eyes. You lick you lips expectantly.
“Wait…” you pause”how do you know my boyfriends name”
“You don’t wanna know” he says with a smirk before he unbuckles his belt. You’re not sure if you should move in pure fear or consent to your boss fucking you.
“Dave I…” but he grips your chin as his belt slides out through his other hand.
“Sweetheart the only words I want from you are your consent & your moans, don’t make me shut you up with this belt.” He hits the desk with the buckle. His eyes fully dilated full of desire. Those black cargo pants are not hiding his erection to well. you softly nod. “Vocally sweet heart “ your head is lifted more.
“Promise not to cum inside me”
“Promise, let’s get your uncorking situations sorted.” Dave’s lips meet yours again. He lifts you up & carries you to the sofa in his office. His hand gripping your arse so hard as the two of your mouths feast on each other. He lays you down & you go to shimmy off your top but Dave rips it if your body.
“I might have needed that Dave”
“Bollocks to it” the long noise of his fly unzipping has you rhything “ooh baby I don’t even have to touch you to see that body desperately craving a real man’s touch.” You fling your bra across the room. You no longer care that you are about to cheat on Gus. Your fantasy that you’ve had for the last 2 years is about to happen. Dave York your assassin your boss is about to fuck you until you can’t move.
As he drops his trousers & boxers your legs part more. The site of his long girthy penis sends shivers down your spine. He’s definately going to pinch.
“Impressed?” He says as he slips in between your thighs, he licks his fingers & they start to strum your sex making you moan.
“Fuck”
“God I’ve wanted to do this for a long time” he groans, as he teases your clit with his cock. The pre cum dripping mixing with your own arousal. “Gonna make you realise your worth sweetheart” he moans before he fully in one long deep push goes balls deep inside you first time.
“Oooh my god, fuck oooh fuck” you moan grabbing the grey sofa materials. The sting feels magnificent. You feel like any movement he makes your gonna cum straight away. He’s looking at your erect nipples on your breasts, your chest & tummy heathing, the little sweat beads forming on your head & then he slowly starts to move his penis out. “‘Mmmmmm ooooh”
“Take it that’s good”
“Fuck yesss Dave… oooh god” he slams in again & hits the spot, everything tingles & your senses are exploding.
“Does Gus do this?” He says as he does the same move again. You shake your head.
“No mmmmmm” you can’t stop moaning each time you mmm or ohhh Dave smirks. He’s getting naughty noises out of your mouth. He wondering would that small mouth of yours take his cock. How far could he ram it down your throat.
“Man doesn’t know how to make a woman feel good, doesn’t deserve ooooh fuck” Dave feels you clamp around him. Almost milking him if his seed at this early stage. “Hold off a bit longer sweetheart please” he lifts your leg & puts your left foot on his shoulder & then he finds his rhythm. He’s in the zone.
“Oooh my god god my god oooh fuck” you don’t know what you’re moaning. Even though Gus isn’t the best lover none of your other lovers or partners before him have felt this good. Dave’s working & rolling his body. The happy trail from his belly button down to the base of his length due to his hip action, is hypnotic. The man can move. He concentrating so much but you can also hear from his own moans that he is getting pleasure out of this too. “Oooh baby”
“Fuck oooh come on girl give it to me,” one arms stretches while another caresses your breasts. He wipes the sweat from his brow with the hand not holding your leg in place before he returns to your neglected clit. As the friction grows you can’t hold on anymore.
“OOoh shit shit shit” you cry “fuckkkkk” you scream as you climax, drenching Dave inside you. Dave look on in wonder as you scream, he’s sure people know he’s fucking you. He doesn’t care.He looks as you lie there spent but he’s not done yet.
“Oooh sweetheart we can do more than that” he says as he quickly withdraws then flips you onto your front.
“Fuck” you scream as he lies on top of you, his balls already banging as he’s deep inside you again. You go to turn your head to look at him but he pushes it into the sofa.
“Fuck your even tighter baby.” He snarls, his rhythm is unrelenting.”how bad is your boyfriend”
“Mmmmm” is all you can get out muffled as he fucks pounding away. He fees so good. You can feel the next orgasm approaching already.
“Fuck fuck fuck Dave” you groan, it leaks down your legs your cum, you know this sofa isn’t new but it’s going to have stains on now.
Dave’s a machine, fucking you hard for over an hour all sorts of positions. You enjoyed it each time he withdrew & covered your arse or belly in ropes of his cum. He was being true to his word. He wasnt cumming inside you. He didn’t care what you thought anymore & actually neither had you. He was giving you the pleasure you had craved for the last few months. Boring Gus with his very safe sex wasn’t going to cut it anymore.
As you bounced up & down in the cowgirl position, Dave licked his lips. You’d been exactly what he had hoped for. He knew what he was doing was wrong but with you being so willing to give it back to him he was enjoying pleasure too.
“Gonna cum once more for daddy” he asked, sweat covering his body.
“Mmmhmmm yes boss” you say still calling him the code name.
“Think you can handle me”
“I always do”
“That’s my girls” he slapped & then grabbed your arse cheek & this made you clamp around his cock so hard. It made him moan “fuck” he did it again & again. Each time you moved more, each time the slap was harder, each gasp you made was more erotic. He’s struggling to control his urge.
“Oooh Dave, more more more” if anyone was recording this it would be a blur At the pace he is going. He’s hitting the spot each time, your previous arousal leaking out. It’s too much. His moves, your pants, the way your boobs jiggle. You’re both gonna explode.
“Oooh fuck baby”
“Yes just like that” you whimper as he sticks two fingers in your arse, he’s not claimed that but it’s enough.”yes yes yes yessss yesss oooh fuck Dave!” You scream & cum, eyes rolling into the back in your head. Squeezing him with all your might.
“Oooooh fuck fuck fuck!” He cry’s, he can’t withdraw in time. He cums & fills you up, painting every inch of you. Both your slicks mixing together inside you “fuck yes” he growls before he kisses you firmly. Neither of you have realised what Dave has just done. Your both on a come down, slowly rocking into each other, panting & giggling in between kisses. Sweat from you dripping onto his chest. He sucks your left breast to calm down before he slowly & delicatly unseats you & puts you on the sofa as he goes into his desk drawer for some wet wipes, for you to both clean up. It’s only as he starts to wipe his dick, his face drops.
“We… oooh fuck” he stumbles upon his realisation.
“Yea we’ve both been unfaithful Dave��
“I’ve never cum inside someone before, other than a girlfriend or my wife, on missions I cum in their mouth or on their tits, why couldn’t I stop with you?”
“Well you did the first few goes…” he then abruptly interupts.
“Your on birth control right?” Your face drops it’s Friday you see the doctor. He freezes”you are right”
“My period ended yesterday & im getting my birth control shot on Friday” you say which is a partial lie, you begin ovulating tomorrow, Dave could have just got you pregnant. You both glaze over, Dave at the fact that he’s cheated after years of being “careful” with lots of targets for information & you for the fact that your Boss could have impregnated you. You both stay silent as you get dressed unsure what to say your relationship no longer the same. Once dressed you put on your jacket & do it up so that when you leave his office you aren’t just in your bra. You stand up & stroke his face.
“Is there anything else I can do for you mr York?” You say as if nothing haa changed but everything has. You sound sad.
“No, I’m all good” he doesn’t even make eye contact with you & you leave. You head straight to the women’s bathroom & throw up, sick to your stomach at what you just did, even though it made you feel to good.
*
You sit in Dave’s office on Monday morning waiting for him. You’d tried to work together on Thursday & Friday but it was awkward. The genie was out of the bottle, the dynamic different. You’d then been to the doctors & then spent the weekend assessing your life. You’d come to some decisions that would change a few things, but you thought it was best to be truthful with Dave first. When he walks in he’s shocked to see you waiting.
“Morning”
“Morning Mr York we need to talk” you say. Your sat on the sofa you consummated your passion on & Dave comes & sits beside you. He looks white. On the table by the sofa is both you coffees some paperwork & a little box. Dave looks at the long thin rectangular box suspiciously.
“Can I…” you nod & he unpacks the box. There is the pregnancy test you took before the doctors. He sighs deeply. “Thank god for that” he says looking at the negative test.
“I took a morning after pill to be safe as well Dave” you then hand him the envelope. “That’s for you too” Dave without hesitation opens the envelope. His head is still processing that you aren’t pregnant. It takes him a few minutes to realise. He grabs your knee straight away when the realisation hits.
“No!”
“No”
“I won’t allow it”
“What”
“Youre the best handler I’ve ever had, I can’t lose you, not over a couple of hours of sex”
“Dave… I”
“No you can’t, it’s stupid”
“Will you let me explain” you shout. Dave looks shocked. He’s never heard that tone before from you. “I spent the weekend thinking things over, I want to take my license again, I want to be an assassin, or at least a full time driver or back up & I want….” You gulp “& I want to do it with you” Dave’s face is stunned. His face then lights up & he hugs you.
“Ohhh really, you want to go back to this, you want us to be a team a real team”
“We always were a team Dave, I just need to stop living the safe life, see where I belong, get back to what I’m good at, I was holding myself back, but after that mission & then when it almost went wrong & the the rush & the passion, I can’t give that up”
“& Gus…” he asks
“Well let’s just say safe isn’t for me.”
“& I am” he asks raising an eyebrow, “you know I’m married right”
“I do Dave”I then smirk”but it’s not cheating unless you fill me up with cum” he laughs back at that.
“Naughty bitch” he scoff “you’ve got the grips of this whole situation havent you?”
“Isn’t it good to be the smartest person in the world?” You ask.
“I don’t know does it?” He can’t hold back & his plump lips crash either yours, his hand goes up your skirt & he’s amazed when he realises you aren’t wearing any underwear. “You tease” he says as that large flat thumb starts working your clit. You moan instantaneously.
“Only for you mr York, only you”
#pedro pascal#fanfic#my fics#smutt#no minors#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#over18#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#dave york f reader#dave york fan fiction#dave york angst#dave york fanfic#dave york fanfiction#dave york fic#dave york smut#dave york pit#Dave York#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fan fic#pedro pascal universe#dave york x f!reader
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Stockholm's Syndrome.
Chapter 3
Pairing: Dave York x female reader.
Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18.
⚠️⚠️⚠️Warning! This is a fic about Dave York. Dave York comes with his own warning so do not say I didn't warn you. ⚠️⚠️⚠️
Words: about 2.5K
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Masterlist ✨
After last time, when he had snuck into your apartment and woken you up by going down on you before fucking you senseless, you thought maybe you’d see him soon again. But you hadn’t seen or heard from Dave in days, which had you in a funk. Not that you had any way of contacting him. Though you suspected he might have your phone number, he had his way with things. And he was unlike any other man you had ever been with.
But today was your birthday, and you had invited some friends over for dinner and drinks. Everyone had already arrived, the music was pumping, and the food was all prepped and laid out. Although you quickly realized you didn’t have enough chairs for everyone if they wanted to sit down.
“Eat and drink; I’m just going to pop down to the basement to get some more chairs real quick. I’ll be back in a second,” you said before taking a sip of your drink and walking out of your apartment, skipping down the stairs to the basement, where your storage room was.
You opened the door to your storage but had difficulty finding the light switch. You let your hand slide over the wall in the dark until you found it, and that’s when you saw him.
Dave was there, in your storage room.
“What the heck are you doing here?” You were confused. But before he answered or you could say anything else, he grabbed your hand and pulled you into the tiny room, locking the door behind you.
“I wanted to wish you a happy fucking birthday. Now, why don’t you let me give you your present?" He said it with a dark gleam in his eyes, and a devilish smirk spread across his lips as he leaned in and kissed you hard. He hadn’t kissed you before. His lips crashed against yours with such need and urgency. Slanting across yours, molding his lips against yours. His tongue licked along your bottom lip, asking for entry, and you granted it immediately. Parting your lips to let him in.
His hands roamed all over your body, gripping you tightly and pushing you harder against him. You could feel his growing erection through your thin dress as his lips continued their assault on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, tasting you, and mapping your mouth.
Gripping one of your legs, he hoisted it up and around his waist. The other hand moved in between you and slid your panties to the side before he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Reaching in, he pulled out his now fully hard cock and dragged it through your already wet lips before he plunged inside in one hard thrust. You had been thinking about him all day, wondering when you would get to see him again. And each time you thought about him, your pussy ached. Ached to be stretched and filled up by his perfect cock. Ached and wet for him just thinking about him. And now he was here, giving you what you wanted. What you needed
“Fuck,” he groaned as he leaned his head against your shoulder and took a moment to steady himself. “Fucking your tight pussy is all I’ve been able to think about all fucking day.” He said, between thrusts as he began to move in and out of your slick pussy.
“But how did you know it was my birthday?” You asked, your words poured out of you as he began pumping into you.
“I know everything about you…your every move…who you talk to," he punched out as he thrust harder into you.
You should be scared; you really should. But for the life of you, you weren’t. Quite the opposite, the fact that he was checking up on you—well, let’s call it what it is, spying on you. It turned you on more than you cared to admit, even to yourself.
A knock at the door startled you, and you froze. He put a hand over your mouth to stop the moans from escaping as he continued to thrust into you, never once faltering in his pace.
“Hey birthday girl, do you need help? Is everything okay?"Carrie, a friend from work, asked through the door. The door handle rattled as she tried to open the locked door. But Dave had locked it, so it didn’t budge.
He leaned in really close and whispered,
“I am going to keep on fucking you even harder, and I need you to tell her you’re okay. We don’t want your friends worrying over you having a dangerous criminal filling this delicious, tight pussy of yours, do we?”
It wasn’t a question, though; despite your limited time spent with this man, you knew from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t expecting you to answer him. The light in the ceiling flickered before it went out, and darkness fell upon you both. He reached behind him and turned on the light on his flashlight.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just moving things around to get to the chairs, I’ll be up in a moment,” you called out, trying to sound as normal as you could while Dave kept thrusting into you, hard and deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside with ease each time that had your legs trembling and your release building deep with each thrust.
“Okay,see you back up there in a bit then,” she said, and you both listened as you heard her move away from the door and walk back upstairs, the door slamming shut behind her, telling you you were again alone down there.
“Fuck, Dave, you feel so good,” you mewled when he dropped his hand from your mouth, and a deep moan followed.
“Do not make a sound, or I won’t let you cum,” he warned.
Despite the only light in the tiny space being what was emanating from his flashlight, the darkness in his eyes almost made you forget how to think, never mind breathe.
He picked up his pace, thrusting harder and forcing you to bite down on your lip, so keep from making any sounds. The only noise in the small space was skin slapping against skin and the low groans coming from him as he kept ramming his cock into you.
“This pussy is mine. And you, you are mine,” he said through clenched teeth.
He bottomed out, his hips slammed against yours, and you moaned. Your heart beat a little faster when you heard him say those words, but you didn't know how to respond. He plunged into you at a frantic pace. Diving into you hard and deep with each thrust. With the intensity of it all, you squeezed your eyes shut as the final thread snapped and sent you over the edge. Your orgasm raced through you. Stars burst behind your eyes, and a whimper left your lips. His hips stuttered and his moves got sloppy. He was pressing deep into you and muttering your name as your pussy clenched down hard around him.
Your orgasm ripped through you with such force that you threw your head back and inadvertently smacked your head against the shelves behind you. You winced slightly but pushed the pain aside when he gripped your chin with one hand to angle your face up to his, and he kissed you long and hard. His other hand found its way between your bodies and down to your clit, pressing against it with skilled moves and pulling another orgasm from you before the first one had even subsided completely. He withdrew his hand from your pussy and lifted it up to his mouth, and sucked them clean. A sly smirk played on his lips as he locked eyes with you.
“You taste fucking deliciosus,” he said before his hand came down to grab your ass as he continued to ram you hard. The one hand not holding onto your ass roamed and gripped at anything and everything. His fingers curled into your dress, pulling you closer to him. He made you feel like you were someone to be worshiped. But you knew what this was. This was just him coming over to stake his claim and take what he wanted. He would not come with you back up to the party. You doubted you would ever get to introduce him to your friends. Your friends, who had begun to ask questions about the increasing marks and bruises he would leave all over your body. Some you could easily hide, and some, no matter how hard you tried, no makeup in the world could hide. Only a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater could. But that in itself would raise suspicion since it was summer and only a weirdo would wear that when it was 98 degrees on a good day and 107 on a bad day the last few weeks.
Your pussy clamped down on his throbbing cock again, and with a final thrust, he too let go. He bit down on your shoulder, yet leaving another mark on you as he filled you up with his cum. Only then did you realize he hadn’t put on a condom this time. You looked down to where you were joined and then looked up at him. You were not sure what to say, but you had to say something. He had not yet noticed, as far as you could tell.
“Did you just..." you asked, panting heavily. You tried to steady your breathing and your racing thoughts as you looked at him before looking back down between the two of you.
“Fuck,” he repeated as he stilled, still balls deep inside you. “Shit! I didn’t mean to do that. Are you on the pill or something?” He asked and pulled out of you quickly. It's too late for that. You thought sarcastically, but you collected your thoughts before you answered him.
"Yes, I’m on the pill; we’re good. It’s fine,” you said, trying to smooth over the situation and not make him panic or hightail it out of there. He pulled out of you with a soft groan.
“Either way, I shouldn’t have done that; fuck, that was reckless of me, but I can’t seem to think clearly when it comes to you. You have bewitched me, body and soul. I crave to be near you all the goddamn time.” He looked at you for a long moment, then down to your legs, where his cum had begun to trickle down your thighs.
Reaching down, he dragged his fingers through it and raised his hand up to your mouth, motioning for you to open it. Your chest heaved with labored breaths, but you did as he asked. Always so willing to please him and to do anything he asked. He was a thief—a thief that had already stolen your heart—and you were his willing victim.
“But I can’t say I don’t like the sight of me dripping out of that sweet pussy of yours, my pussy,” he said, his voice dripping with possessiveness. He placed his fingers on your tongue. Wrapping your tongue around his thick digits, you licked and sucked them clean. The saltiness of him, mixed with your own juices on your tongue, sent a surge through your body. And you wanted to taste him directly from the source.
“I like it too; now I will have to get back to my party with your cum soaking my panties for the rest of the night. Maybe next time, though, I can have this big cock of yours in my mouth?” You asked gently before you readjusted your panties back over your swollen lips, not letting another drop of cum leak out of you down your thighs.
“That can definitely be arranged if you are a good girl. Now, how about you show me what a good girl you are and get back to your party before another friend of yours comes looking for you.” He cleaned himself up with a towel he found on one of the shelves before he pulled his pants back up and ushered you out of the storage with the chairs you had come down to get in the first place before he sidetracked you into having sex in your storage room. That definitely was a first for you, not that you had any remarks about it, except perhaps that it ended too soon, but you wouldn’t tell him that. He had gone out of his way to get to you on your birthday, to, in his own words “give you a present”. It sure was the best present you had received in a long time.
“Dave?” You asked as you looked back at him.
“Yes?” He questioned, stopping his movements towards the backdoor.
“How do I get in contact with you? I mean, like, can I call you or such some day?” You looked down at your feet before looking back up at him. Not sure if it was even okay to ask this. He apparently knew everything about you, but you knew next to nothing about him. He walked back over to where you were standing, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“How about I text you later?” He asked before kissing you once more, then turning. You watched as he walked out the back door before you walked back up again to rejoin your friends. The rest of the night, your mind kept replaying the events in the basement; he had called you his. What did he mean by that? Each time you shifted in your chair, you felt the wetness in your panties, a reminder that it had not been a dream and that he had in fact fucked you senseless just hours ago before again slipping away into the night. And left you behind, waiting and wondering when and if he’d come back or if he would text as he had said he would. Not that you had given him your number. But he had his ways; you were sure he already had it.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Masterlist ✨
#fanfic#pedro pascal#my fics#smutt#no minors#over18#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal cinematic universe#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal fan fic#dave york f reader#dave york fan fiction#dave york angst#dave york x f!reader#dave york pit#dave york fanfic#dave york fanfiction#dave york fic#dave york smut#dave york#dave york x reader#equalizer 2#0 regrets
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Belly of the Beast: Part I
Dark!Dave York x F!reader
Warnings: it’s Dave, so…buckle up! No use of y/n. Homicide with a gun, reader is shot and grievously wounded and dying, graphic descriptions of murder and gore, use of medical equipment/terminology, amateur triage and medical care, Dave is a voyeuristic creep, Stockholm syndrome?, physical restraints, partial nudity, divergence from EQ2 plot and major character deaths mentioned. No mention of wife or kids. No smut this time! (Shocking, I know.) Dark themes obviously, I mean, Dave DOES kill for money, after all.
Summary: You’ve been Dave’s housekeeper for two years. When you arrive for your morning shift, the last thing you expect to see is Dave standing over a body.
This was going to be a one shot but I decided it worked better as a two parter. Enjoy!
Word Count: 4,700
Taglist: tagging the people I know for sure want to be tagged. If you want to be tagged for part II, lmk!
@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @kellybelly1978 @awilderi @oberynslady @natdeandar @daddy-dins-girl @heavennumber2 @guelyury
—
The sky is still dark, a faint slice of jagged light cast across a slate colored horizon, when you arrive for the day at Dave York’s home.
You notice his car parked in the driveway as you pull in, checking your messages to make sure you hadn’t missed anything from him, finding nothing. You frown.
Normally, he would tell you when he would be home if he knew you were also going to be there that day. He simply must have forgotten to mention it this time. It wasn’t a big deal; you could just work around him like you always did.
He was gone for work more often than not. What that entails, you aren’t entirely sure of; all you knew was that he worked in D.C. Something bureaucratic, most likely.
What was even more curious than his unannounced presence, however, was a second vehicle parked behind his.
You pull up next to aforementioned vehicle and get out, gathering your bucket of cleaning supplies from the backseat. Dave provided most of what was used, but there were a few items you preferred for various reasons, with his approval, of course. You had been his housekeeper for the last two years, servicing his home bi-weekly, and he paid you well, plus tips. You had few complaints.
Although the home was large and stately, he lived alone as far as you knew. You couldn’t recall seeing anyone there before now.
As you walk along the edge of the driveway to the side door, you note the pale illumination filtering out through the kitchen window onto the concrete, which makes sense considering the time of day. He’s most likely just sitting down to have his coffee and breakfast. You hope you don’t startle him too much.
The sun is ascending rapidly, already burning brighter in the short walk from your car to the door, providing you with enough light to get your key out.
You unlock the side door, which steps directly into a small utility and mud room. The interior door to the kitchen is drawn shut, which wasn’t unusual, but an unfamiliar noise registers as you enter, immediately followed by what sounds like chair legs scraping along the tiled floor, and Dave’s voice saying what sounds like a name. Mac? Is that what you heard?
Your mind fumbles over the original sound, knowing it’s familiar, but that you can’t quite place it, trying to trace its source. You can best describe it as a muted pop, loud enough to notice but not so loud as to sound any alarm bells. Or so you think.
You smell the strong waft of coffee and eggs cooking as you enter. And something else.
The scene that is laid out before you as you push open the kitchen door is the last thing you would ever expect or want to find, and the realization of what the unidentified sound was hits you like a freight train.
What you discover is Dave standing above a body, pistol clutched tightly in his right hand, knuckles turning alabaster, with what you’re certain is a silencer screwed to the end of the barrel.
The body sprawled across the floor belongs to a man you don’t recognize, a pool of fresh blood spreading rapidly from a single gunshot wound to the front of the skull, bone and brain matter studding the kitchen island and wall, the stink of crimson iron filling the air.
Dave’s head snaps up when he hears you enter, his face gone pale, but otherwise completely blank and devoid of emotion.
Your eyes lock.
You think you say his name. You aren’t sure, and the only reason you know you’ve said anything at all is because you feel the muscles in your esophagus stretching and vibrating, your heart thundering inside your rib cage.
You’re smart enough to deduce that this isn’t some home invasion gone awry. The unknown car in the driveway and the trained, emotionless nature at which Dave currently presents himself is testament to that.
The only option left is that Dave killed a man. And now he has his sights trained on none other than you.
You drop the bucket of supplies, the hollow sound of plastic hitting ceramic reverberating in your skull as you turn, your brain screaming at you to run, run.
In hindsight, running was a bad idea. But panic doesn’t always create rationale.
You feel your legs pumping, your lungs sucking in air. You want to scream for help but when you attempt it, the only sound that comes out is a small, strangled croak of terror. You feel like a damsel in distress in every horror movie you’ve ever seen, almost as if you aren’t actually moving at all, like you’re just running in place while the villain slowly catches up to you.
If you could just reach the neighbor’s house. If you could just… reach…
You manage to make it to the driveway, but you’re barely a few steps onto the concrete when that same muted pop registers again, and you instantly feel a sharp, burning, agonizing sting that rips right through you like a hot knife through butter, knocking you ass over teakettle just paces from Dave’s car, your face slamming hard against the ground.
You look down to see the spreading circle of blood on your shirt against your lower abdomen, a geyser of red bubbling up from the wound. And Dave is on you in an instant, hovering above you, gun trained right at your head.
You know you’re a goner. Abdominal gunshots are frequently fatal, at least according to the kind of shows you like to watch. And at the rate you’re seeing your blood spill out, you know it’s anything but good.
Before you fully comprehend what is happening, your vision already waning, you’re pleading for Dave to end your life as quickly as possible, ‘please, please Mr. York, I’ve been good to you. Please do it fast’, you choke out.
But Dave doesn’t kill you. His dark eyes bore into you, through you, and he hesitates. He’s watching you die and beg for him to put you down and yet he can’t bring himself to actually do it, regardless of how many names he’s scratched out of his ledger without remorse. Maybe because you’re just an innocent, wrong place wrong time, but he can’t seem to do it.
“Please, don’t let me suffer,” you sob as you lift a single, quaking hand that is slicked deep burgundy, and still he doesn’t put you down, only lowering the gun to his side, and you can’t help but wonder what you did to deserve to suffer slowly like this.
Finally, some sense of self preservation washes over you, and even as you’re dying, in your final throes of desperation, you start ripping and clawing at your shirt, managing to somehow tear a sizable chunk out of it, in order to make some kind of makeshift tourniquet that could potentially save your life.
Your hands shake and slip, blood pressure dropping rapidly, and your vision wanes more, the edges of the lightening sky fading and blotting away. You suddenly feel very cold and you can feel your heartbeat gradually ebbing to a slow, dull throb.
The last thing you see before your vision goes completely dark is Dave crouching over you, his face screwed up in regret.
——
God damn it.
When Dave had found out only days before that McCall was still alive, and that his old compatriot had sniffed out the details shrouding Susan’s death, Dave had lost all sight of anything else, completely forgetting you were scheduled to clean his house that day.
Had he realized, he would have canceled. It would have made things far less complicated.
But God fucking damn it. He didn’t want to kill you, his militaristic training and instincts piloting his actions when you fled instead of surrendering, intending to put a round in your skull but changing his mind at the last possible fraction of a second so that he totally FUBAR’d the shot and hit your abdomen instead. A gut shot wasn’t much better. In fact, it was worse. Way worse.
You’re still breathing when he finishes applying the crude tourniquet that you had started, which didn’t completely stop the bleeding but slowed it enough to make a difference. That way, he could get you down into the basement where he could apply proper triage.
His medical training was rudimentary and archaic at best, but it was better than nothing. And it was his best chance at keeping you alive.
Your blood soaks through the light blue dress shirt Dave is wearing as he carries you through the house draped in his arms, the one you once told him looked nice on him. He takes you into the basement and places you on his work table — which isn’t sterile — noting no exit wound as he sets you down, which can be good or bad, all things depending.
Thankfully, he locates the bullet readily enough, fishing it out with a narrow pair of forceps, discarding it into a medical pan as he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the bullet didn’t strike anything crucial, an incredibly lucky feat.
He grabs a skin stapler to close up the wound; a messy and rushed method of closure that would leave behind a pretty significant scar, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to close the wound properly with a needle, especially considering the rate at which his hands were already shaking.
He takes in a deep breath when he finishes stapling you back together and leans over you, examining your face and body visually, his mind racing as to what he should do now. You still had a pulse. You were breathing. But you had lost a lot of blood, and your prognosis wasn’t good.
Frowning, the crease deepening between his brows, he cleans and sterilizes the wound, wrapping you up in proper dressing, which he hopes is enough to stave off any infection. He can’t risk taking you to a hospital. Especially when there’s still a dead man to deal with only a floor above.
The good news is that he knew no one would come looking for McCall, the majority believing him to already be dead, so disposal would thankfully be swift and painless. You, on the other hand, he was unsure of. He knew your parents had passed and you didn’t have siblings, but he didn’t know if there was a boyfriend or girlfriend in your life, or friends who would notice your absence.
His mind reels with every possibility. Dave isn’t a man who enjoys loose ends. Loose ends make his ass itch.
Your shirt is shredded and bloody, so he removes the remainder of it, leaving you in a soft black cotton bra. He doesn’t let his eyes wander, although, at the back of his mind, he realizes he has always found you attractive. Just as quickly as it dawns on him, he shakes the thought from his mind; it is neither the time nor place for such endeavors.
He removes your shoes but not your socks, knowing you would be cold from having lost so much blood. He might actually put one of his pairs over your own, for good measure.
After a long beat of silent contemplation, Dave scoops you up into his arms once more.
——
You wake up from a fitful sleep some hours later, in a bed you’ve never slept in before. The room around you is dark, shades drawn, a faint light flooding in from beneath a closed door.
When you attempt to sit up, pain lances through your torso and you cry out, your back hitting the mattress. You immediately realize, much to your horror, that you’re also handcuffed to a bedpost. Even if you could move without effort, you aren’t exactly going anywhere.
Your memory suddenly comes flooding back in a tidal wave of images, recalling all of the events that lead up to this point; the body on the kitchen floor, the gunshot, Dave staring down at you with a pistol in his hand.
But you aren’t in a hospital and this isn’t a hospital bed. You’re in Dave’s bedroom. In Dave’s bed.
The door clicks open and a familiar silhouette steps into the room, regarding you in steely silence. You recognize the broad shoulders right away, the thick arms, the short cropped hair.
Your pulse quickens, your body and mind telling you to flee again, even though you know you can’t, causing you to flinch with a choked whimper when he takes a step toward you.
“I wouldn’t move, sweetheart. You lost a lot of blood,” Dave explains, his voice low and soft to your ears as he approaches the bed.
Your body is trembling hard. So hard that it makes the entire bed vibrate.
He’s no longer wearing the blue shirt or black slacks from before, now dressed in a slate gray t-shirt and Adidas sweats. His dark eyes study you as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed. If you weren’t so weak, you think you would strike him.
He lifts the back of his hand to your cheek and you flinch again.
“Shh,” he tuts, “I’m not going to harm you.”
His hand presses to the soft round of your cheek, your forehead, checking for fever.
“Y-you— you s-shot me—?“ you croak.
“I reacted poorly,” Dave agrees with a small nod, his lips parted softly, “but you also shouldn’t have run.”
“You k-killed… that man…”
“I did, indeed.” His eyes grow a shade darker, his brow knitting together, lending him a sinister appearance. “But that man was threatening me. That man was going to kill me…” Dave explains, an edge of malice and contempt to his voice. “I was left with few options.”
You stare back, unblinkingly, trying to decide what to say next, if anything.
“My family will come looking for me,” is what you settle on, a wash of bravery suddenly welling up within you.
To that, Dave smirks, eyes remaining dark, hand lowering to the bed by your hip.
“What family?” Dave asks, smirk slanting even more, his tone semi-mocking. “Do you really think I would hire someone to come into my home without doing a full investigation on them?”
Your jaw drops open, hanging slack in the air, as it dawns on you that a trained killer has been right under your nose this entire time. You would scream if you had the lung capacity to do so.
You should have seen the patterns. Noticed the signs. The constant travel, the lack of personal touches to his home, the pinpricks of blood you occasionally found on his clothes that you excused for other things. That one room in the basement he forbade you from entering.
But you hadn’t, causing you to nearly pay with your life.
Truth is, Dave had picked you for good reason, and it wasn’t just because of the exemplary reviews. You were naive and trusting, you had no family, no criminal record, you didn’t work for an agency; you worked solo. Your work ethic and reliability were just cherries on top.
You look down to notice the IV needle in your hand, and you lift it in examination, your hand shaking and sputtering weakly. No… no, you really had no clue who this guy was at all.
Dave watches you for a beat before he gently grasps your hand and places it back down on the bed, regarding you with uncharacteristic softness and empathy.
You feel your consciousness starting to drift then as Dave pulls the covers back to check the dressings, finding they’re still intact and that the wound hasn’t reopened from what he can tell. He’ll clean and redress everything in the morning. For now, you need rest.
“I’ll be right back,” he tells you, stepping out of the room for what feels like only a meager blip of time to you, but when you open your eyes again, he’s hovering above you once more with a thermometer and an ice pack.
“Open up,” he instructs, and you do so obediently.
“Good girl,” Dave praises as he checks your temperature, and you close your eyes.
When the thermometer beeps, which feels like an eternity later, he frowns, exhaling a long sigh. “101.5. Here,” he says, leaning to the side where he opens a drawer on the night stand, a bottle of aspirin rattling somewhere next to your head. The sound is grating, making your head throb, and suddenly the lamp seems too bright.
He feeds you some pills and gives you a drink of water from a nearby tumbler, which you guess was also on the nightstand, but aren’t too sure.
He pulls the blanket back up all the way to your chin and places the ice pack on your forehead, staring down at you. Although Dave was the reason you were even here at all, he is treating you with a surprising amount of tenderness.
“You need to eat,” he says after a moment. “Dinner is almost ready.”
——
You must pass out again, because when your eyes reopen, Dave stands next to you with a small tray table filled with food.
“Chicken and dumplings,” he explains. “It will keep the cold away.”
You nod your head weakly as he places the tray over you. When you reach for the spoon, he stops you, blocking your hand with his own.
“Let me,” he says, picking up the spoon. “I don’t want you moving anymore than necessary.”
You have to keep reminding yourself that he’s the one who shot you. He’s why you’re in this mess in the first place. Why you’re here, injured, with a hole in your abdomen, chained to his bed.
The way he’s acting shouldn’t be trusted.
You try to resist, but he grabs your jaw with the other hand and forces it to pop open, pressing the spoon past your lips as he ladles the soup into your mouth, much to your displeasure.
“Eat,” he says softly, but sternly, his features darkening in regard.
The food is warm, as promised, and delicious. You aren’t sure of the last time you ate, not knowing what time or even what day it is, but you soon realize you’re starving. Because of this, the second spoonful is not met with as much resistance as the first, your mouth hinging open in resignation and acquiescence.
Dave’s eyes zero in on your soft lips. The way they twitch ever so slightly as they divide. The way your tongue looks so velvet and inviting…
He feeds you slowly, thoughtfully, watching your every move, his own lips parted in concentration as you take in the much needed sustenance.
By the end of it, you’ve managed to polish off about half the bowl. Seemingly satisfied with that, he makes you drink some Gatorade.
“Why are you doing this?” you ask weakly as soon as you swallow down a couple gulps of the blue liquid, your consciousness ebbing and flowing by the second. Dave looks at your face, but he doesn’t give you an answer. He doesn’t have one to give.
Part of him wishes he did.
“I have to pee,” you tell him suddenly when you notice the familiar stab of discomfort in your lower region. A realization that sends a jolt of anxiety rushing through you, your pulse racing when you watch his face fall. He hadn’t even thought of that…
His skills and equipment were limited to wound care, so of course he hadn’t put a catheter in. He wouldn’t know how even if he did happen to have one.
He deliberates on what to do. He didn’t have a bed pan. But, he was sure he could find something comparable to use.
Or he could help you to the bathroom. He has an en suite, it was literally only steps around the bed. But the space was tight. It would take some maneuvering. And he would have to be close to you the entire time. Not to mention uncuffing you from the bed.
In the end, that’s what he settles on.
“Let me help you to the bathroom, sweetheart,” he says to you, pulling the blankets back, and you are cold. So cold. Your flesh pebbling with the lick of cool air against your skin.
He unlocks the handcuffs and you massage your sore wrist and shoulder the moment you have full motion of your arm again.
“Slowly,” he instructs, his voice low and even. “Grab the IV stand.”
You do as you’re told, gripping the cool steel in your hand as you grasp his forearm with the other while he gingerly manipulates you into a sitting position. You cry out at the sudden dagger of pain that slices through your lower gut, and he does his best to steady you against him.
He did this to you, you keep reminding yourself. He did this to you.
He lifts you carefully, slowly, and you groan at the swell of pain when he places you on your feet.
“Easy, easy…” he murmurs, one arm circling your waist to keep you upright. You flinch at the contact.
You make it to the bathroom easily enough, light flooding the small room as Dave flips the switch. A bathroom you’ve cleaned countless times. There was rarely much to clean in here, save for the occasional whisker in the sink, or some light trash in the bin.
Dave was neat and fastidious, and not frequently home. You often wondered why he needed someone to clean his house in the first place.
The space looks no different than usual, but right now it feels… different. You shouldn’t be here.
He guides you to the toilet, and when you get there, you stare down at it, pondering to yourself how this is going to work.
He seems hesitant to leave your side.
“Go ahead,” he tells you softly, “I won’t look.”
You freeze. The last thing you want is to expose your body to him when he already has several advantages on you. But your bladder is screaming at you to go, especially now given your proximity to the porcelain bowl, and you can barely stand on your own, your arms and legs wobbling.
You watch as he turns his back, placing himself between you and the exit. You bend just slightly to tug your bottoms down, but it’s too much, more pain coursing through your body. You yelp, unable to even budge the fabric.
“Hey,” Dave says, turning back to face you, “Let me help you.”
“No, I—I got it,” you protest, your arms shaking, attempting it again, only to end up with the same result. “Fuck—“
“Hey,” Dave says a second time, more sternly than before, as he moves in to your space. “Let me help. I promise I won’t touch you.”
You tremble. You’re cold, you’re frightened, you’re weak. So weak. You’re in your bra, partially exposed to him already. Yet, you concede with a nod anyway. You’ll piss yourself if you don’t.
He mirrors your nod in silent confirmation and moves closer, crowding into your intimate space, his fingers finding the waistband of your leggings and underwear. He slides them down your hips and legs in unison, all the way to your knees. As promised, he doesn’t touch you more than he needs to.
But he has to look. He needs to see where his hands are in relation to your body in order to keep himself from accidentally breaking his promise of touching you in a way you didn’t consent to, and another part of him just can’t help it, either. He is a man, after all, and he wasn’t currently seeing anyone. Romance wasn’t exactly optimal for someone in his position, his attention honed in on his work above all else.
When the nights were long and lonely enough, he would, on occasion, share his bed with a sex worker, but aforementioned nights were few and far between. He enjoyed his job. He got off on it. Romance was often placed on the back burner.
But there’s just something about you. Especially now, with how vulnerable you are, that he finds irresistible.
His gaze only lingers on your bared skin for a moment, big brown puppy dog eyes roving over your soft curves, holding on to you as he lowers you down to the commode. And, god, you’re just as beautiful as he imagined, his skin heating at the sight of your soft folds.
“Call for me when you’re done,” he grates quietly as he takes a step out of the bathroom, blood rushing to certain parts of his body, shutting the door to give you a modicum of privacy, which you’re more than grateful for.
His eyes on you had not gone unnoticed. You weren’t stupid and you weren’t seeing anyone either, currently; his attention, regardless of how brief, had made your skin heat and your core pulse with need. You clear your throat and try to discard the thought.
Dave is why you are here. Dave is dangerous. So dangerous he can’t even take you to a hospital to get proper medical attention. Stop it.
It feels like you pee for ages. You aren’t totally convinced you’re awake for most of it. Eventually, you finish, even managing to wipe yourself, in spite of things, which you’re relieved for. You wouldn’t want him to do it for you; that would be humiliating and degrading.
You call for Dave when you’re done and he returns in an instant, hoisting you to your feet as he pulls your pants and underwear back up and over your hips, trying not to think about your soft cunt. You can see how hard he’s trying not to look at you.
“Good?” he asks. You nod.
Bracing yourself against him, he helps you back to the comfort of the bed. It smells like him, despite how little he’s actually in it. You hiss through your teeth as he manipulates you into position, adjusting the pillows and covers until you’re as comfortable as possible.
You’re cold. Freezing, in fact, despite it being the swell of summer.
“I’m c-cold,” you lament to Dave, crossing your arms over your chest beneath the blanket.
Dave’s lips pinch to the side in thought. “Hold on.”
He returns a moment later with an extra blanket, tossing it over you, tucking the edges neatly around your form, taking extra care to be gentle, noteably around your abdomen.
As you watch him, his face and eyes soft, his hair mussed and unkempt, you ask yourself once again why he’s doing all of this for you.
Guilt? Shame? Something else?
You don’t have much time to ruminate on it for too long before your consciousness peters away once more.
——
Dave sighs as he watches you slip back into listlessness. You’re doing better than he anticipated, but you aren’t out of the woods yet. He knows how much blood you had lost; he’d spent hours cleaning it. Not to mention McCall, the remains of which he had delivered to an acquaintance who works at the industrial incinerator on the outskirts of town, after tending to you.
He loops your hand back through the cuff on the bedpost and peers down at you. You’re so beautiful; he hopes you make it. He wishes you hadn’t run from him. God, why did you run? He doesn’t want you to meet the same fate as McCall. He doesn’t want to know what your incinerated body smells like.
Every body has a different smell, in his experience.
He gives you another dose of morphine to reduce any pain you may be feeling and to keep you knocked out for a few more hours, checking for fever again, which is currently holding steady. It was good that it wasn’t going up. Any higher and you could potentially be in trouble. He’ll keep checking throughout the night to be on the safe side.
He sighs, knowing he’ll have to stay in town for weeks, which he detested doing. He hated staying in one place for longer than required. But he didn’t have much of a choice at this point.
He turns off the light and shuts the door behind him as he leaves you to rest.
Part II coming soon!
#dave york#dave york x reader#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedro pascal#writing#fanfic#romance#dark romance#pedro fanfic
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no one has to know what we do
chapter 2 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.
word count: 4.4k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!
a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.
It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.
Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.
It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.
You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.
But David — David is refreshing.
He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.
You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.
He’s not expecting you to reach out.
Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.
Because all he can think about is seeing you again.
It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.
Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.
He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.
Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.
And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.
He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.
Seconds after the first, another text comes through:
[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone
Fuck. Fuck.
His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.
He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.
The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.
His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.
“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.
He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”
“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.
Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.
“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”
His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.
“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.
“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”
You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”
It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.
“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.
You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.
“You don’t like me?”
He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.
The call disconnects with a beep.
You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.
His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.
“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.
“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”
Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.
“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.
“Probably not.”
You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.
When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.
Have fun last night?
From David, sent five minutes ago.
You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.
Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.
Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.
i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you
His reply comes almost instantly.
Who said you bothered me?
You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.
Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.
It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.
When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.
You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.
He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.
Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.
You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.
He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.
You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.
You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.
You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.
After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.
But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.
On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.
Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.
He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.
“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”
“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”
It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.
He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.
He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.
The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.
He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?
“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”
He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.
“Yes. Come on.”
He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.
He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.
So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.
You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.
He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.
He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.
You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.
“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.
“You want me to take care of you?”
You nod.
“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”
Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.
He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.
“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.
Slap.
“You love this, don’t you?”
“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.
Slap.
“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”
You gasp.
Slap.
“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”
It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.
He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.
He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.
You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.
No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.
He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.
He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.
When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.
“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”
He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.
You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.
One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.
“I thought I told you no begging.”
You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”
He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.
“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”
You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.
“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.
He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.
It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.
He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.
Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.
“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”
You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.
He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.
You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.
Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.
He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.
“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”
He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.
You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.
“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.
Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.
The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.
When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.
It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.
He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.
Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.
[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.
Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.
It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.
Maybe just one more time.
thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!
#janas fics#fic: wildest dreams#dave york x reader#dave york#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#dave york smut#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedrostories
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strangers : poolside | dave york
pairing: dave york x f!reader
word count: 6622
content warnings: 18+ blog; ANGST, soft!Dave, established relationship, miscommunication (like a lot), mentions of alcohol and food, workaholic Dave, morning breath, Dave’s stupid phone, talks of marital woes, slight exhibitionism, breast/nipple/clit play, a random handsome stranger, jealous Dave, talk of having or wanting children, a kiss of fluff, implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), 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, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know.
notes: ahh! I’m so nervous for this chapter!! But so excited for it also. I’m so glad I took my time with it so it could be exactly what it needed to be— which is kinda of a roller coaster of emotions. While the story is completely fictional, this has felt very cathartic to me because I dealt with a lot of similar thoughts/feelings as the reader. Anywho! Biggest thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for literally holding my hand through this and helping me work through it. 💕
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The soft glow of the television bathes the hotel room in a soft ambient flicker. Faint colors and scene changes adjust the room’s atmosphere. Actors silently exchanging words back and forth, expressions all the more dramatic with the muted volume. The movie you’ve been looking forward to seeing, long forgotten, playing out in silence across the screen.
As expected, the bed is better than anything you have ever slept in. Its plush mattress, divine and soft. Similar to what you assume it might be like to doze off among the clouds. It braces your bodies with ease through shifting positions as the evening extends into the early hours of the next day.
The intricate structure of lace and mesh material felt exquisite on your skin. Molding over your body like it was made for you and only you. The cups of the teasing bra cradling the weight of your breast, pushed up on display, enticing enough to bring a man to his knees— the plan at least. Taking your time, admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror once everything was in place. Your eyes roaming over your body, letting your hands follow suit. Imaging all the ways Dave would map over your skin in the same manner. The prospect for what was to come was thrilling. Desire blooming in your veins. Arousal warm and already pooling in the crotch of your panties. It was evident, your body filled with pent up lust, ready to be satiated by your husband.
You delicately dotted drops of perfume to your skin— base of your throat, behind your ears, inner wrists. The warmth from your pulse points amplifying the lush fig and sandalwood notes, blending with your natural pheromones instantaneously. Before rejoining Dave, you slipped a hotel robe over your body, concealing the lacey number with wild anticipation.
His hands, gentle where they met your body with a soft caressing motion. Not rushed or seeking more than they were ready for. Blazing heat emitted from him, scorching your skin with a fieriness you so desperately craved. They stilled. Lingered.
Dave. Your voice cautious, velvety sweet, calling out to him.
The sounds that fell from his lips were beyond anything you could have prepared for. A booming roar reverberated through him. Filling the room. Consuming you. As quickly as the rousing fuse had been lit, it had just as quickly fizzled out mid burn.
Dave’s snoring was like a shock to the system. The warm buzz of arousal dissolved into a cold emptiness as you lay in bed alongside Dave’s sleeping form. No amount of lace or lack thereof, seemed to be enough to seduce the sluggish man, already nodding off when you had come slinking out from the bathroom. Propped up on pillows, his eyelids growing heavy with each forced blink as stared blankly at the television. His dinner plate picked over and discarded onto the nightstand.
This scenario you knew all too well— and regularly. The build up, always so hopeful. The prospect of Dave having his way with you, pure exhilaration. Your body so desperate, in need of a release that didn’t hail from a hurried moment alone with a tiny vibrating wand before crawling into bed with Dave’s sleeping form.
Your brain refused to shut off as you lay staring up at the ceiling, willing away tears. You finally settled on the only thing that made sense at this early hour. He no longer desired you like he once did. No amount of time or vacations away could restore that connection. Then there was also that outcome that you dreaded the idea of entertaining— maybe it just wasn’t you he desired.
*
The whole evening had been on a constant loop. Replaying and taking precedence over your usual fictional fantasies that unfolded upon entering a heavy slumber. The hotel suite balcony offered a reprieve from the room, quietly sipping your coffee alone.
It was mid morning when you decided to crawl out of bed, in desperate need of something to numb the dullness that settled behind your eyes. Sleep did little to ease the tornado of thoughts that swept through your mind as the sun rose over the coast of California. Your brain had a funny way of tormenting you with fabricated information. On high alert the minute it sensed uncertainty, in search of answers to unasked questions.
As the coastal fog burned off, you were able to properly take in the view. A colony of gulls flew by, their collaborative squawking was every bit as annoying as it was captivating.
Fellow early risers strolled the sidewalks below, coffees and large water bottles in tow, all absorbed in their little private worlds. Couples hand in hand, in search of the perfect ocean view to start their day. A strange feeling of resentment had crept in. These strangers, carrying on with their lives, seemingly unaware of the jealousy you harbored for their happiness.
Your thoughts trail back to Dave and the evening again. It was only the first day and the optimism around this vacation was starting to wane.
“Shit— I must have really needed some fucking sleep.” Dave groans as he joins you on the balcony, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sheet wrinkles embedded into the side of his face matched the similar ones on his cotton pajama pants and gray sleep shirt. His sleep etched voice is one of your favorite things to wake up to each morning. “I don’t even remember falling asleep at all.”
His body molds into yours, caging you in against the edge of the balcony. He’s warm and soft first thing in the morning. Like a moth to a flame, his lips find your skin. Tiny wet pecks from the base of your neck to your temple.
There was a point in time where things in your marriage felt very easy and Dave wasn’t always so invested in his work. You never felt like you were competing with files and phone calls for his undivided attention. The infatuation he held for you was palpable, leaving little room for doubt or worry.
When you met Dave there was an enigmatic quality about him. Neither of you were in a relationship or seeking out one, but also not completely opposed to the prospect of exploring one if something happened to fall into your laps. A chance meeting at a bar when his drink had literally fallen into your lap led to the rest of the evening spent tucked away in a dimly lit booth. The buzz of alcohol had you talking his ear off, and he allowed you to do so, consuming every little detail about you.
Dave shared minimal information about himself. Very on brand for his reserved but alluring demeanor. Aside from basic introductory facts, the only real thing you knew about him was his recent discharge from the military and his onboarding career in the CIA.
By the end of the night, you felt there was something intriguing about Dave, completely drawn to him. He was kind, generous and clearly the greatest listener. Ideally, he was someone you could see yourself with, wanting to know the ins and outs of who he was. So much so, you gave him your number. Scrawled across a beer soaked napkin, the ink bleeding out as each digit was carefully written out. He even said he’d call, leaving you with a kiss on your cheek before rejoining his buddies and calling it a night.
It was a week before you heard from him again, nearly giving up any hope he would be even remotely interested in you.
You learned that Dave’s walls were strong. Built of the strongest concrete. Resistant and impermeable to the elements. Over time his walls couldn’t withstand the depth at which you were willing to endure for him. Slowly crumbling and exposed. Finding that underneath the rubble was a man who was all in. A man who loved hard and never once made you question his loyalty to you.
“We can blame it on the jet lag.” You laugh softly into the coffee mug, taking another sip— definitely in need of more.
“Good morning, Honey.” He says, nudging his aquiline nose into your cheek, instinctively turning into him.
“Morning, Babe.” Dave turns you, the top of your robe slides off your shoulder— exposing the lace set you were still wearing.
“You’re still wearing it. Didn’t even get the chance to peel it off of you like I wanted to last night.” Pulling at the robe belt, the front falls open. Dave’s eyes widened, taking you all in, his irises now a deeper shade of his usual brown. “
“Yeah, well—“ You huffed, suppressing the impulse to acknowledge the hurt that was still ever-present.
“Fuck— Baby, I’m sorry. I'm two for two now. Let me make it up to you?”
Dave’s hands breach the inside of your robe. His hips flush to you— he’s hard, morning wood ready and eager. His deft fingers slide up the length of your spine, your skin covered in goosebumps once he reaches the clasp of the bra.
“Morning coffee breath— I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your head swerves his oncoming kiss, pulling the front of your robe closed again.
A hitch in your confidence. Curling in on yourself as you dislodge your body from where he has you pinned. That hot coiling response building in your lower abdomen, moments ago desperate for the way Dave wants you, now subsiding to a low simmer.
“You— um, have those calls you still need to make this morning?” You ask him, standing half way through the door, turning enough to catch the sunlight illuminating the bafflement on Dave’s face.
“Uh— Yeah. Still need to make those calls.” Dave’s dejected tone hits you like a bucket of ice. His head hanging and palms digging into his eyes.
“How long do you think it should take?”
“Few hours, give or take. Done by noon at the latest.”
“Okay. Maybe, if you’re up for it when you’re done— maybe we can go to the pool? Lounge a bit. Have some drinks. I got some new bathing suits, and have been dying to wear them. I think you might even like them.” An olive branch in the form of you served on a platter wearing minimal clothing. The likelihood of Dave accepting is rather favorable.
It’s unmistakable, devouring you— all conspicuous like and intense. Surveying every inch of your form leaning against the doorway.
Up the length of your smooth bare legs. The front of the robe flapping with the ocean breeze offering a peek of thigh and black lace. The fingers of your free hand toy with the collar, making it lay askew across your chest. A single breast exposed to cool morning air, nipple tight against the sheer material.
His gaze finally meets yours, shoulders lowering to their normal level. The slightest lift at the corner of his mouth, tip of his tongue gliding over his full bottom lip. Both of you landing on the same page, temptation reciprocated with blatant irresistibility.
“Yeah— Yeah, we can definitely do that.” He replied, his smile widening, the corner of his eyes crinkled— the Dave you fell in love with all those years ago in his truest form.
“Okay. I’ll order us some breakfast then. More coffee too. I drank the whole pot.” There’s a giddy feeling erupting inside of you. It seems like it’s been ages since you’ve seen Dave smile— genuinely smiling.
“Not surprised by that one bit. Hey—“ Capturing your attention before you’ve completely left the balcony. “I love you, you know that right?”
“Of course I do. I love you, too.”
Maybe it’s complacency that makes you feel like things within your marriage are stagnant, even borderline dull as of recently. The lack of regular intimacy, a normal thing all couples encounter at some point through their years together, not a telltale sign of extramarital meandering. Maybe that’s also not a bad thing. Just a season of life. A small hiccup in your otherwise normal and loving relationship.
*
As promised, it’s noon by the time Dave wraps up his final phone call and you’re both sitting atop the roof of the hotel. Basking in the sweltering rays of the California sun is exactly what was needed after being cooped up in the room all morning.
Breakfast in bed while Dave paced the length of the balcony. One phone call after the next, all varying in degrees of duration and intensity based on how animated Dave’s hand gestures and contorted expressions were. You had delivered his plate of eggs, sausage and toast during his first call, leaving it on the small table along with a fresh pot of coffee. He kissed you and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before sinking his teeth into the burnt buttered bread and continuing his meeting or whatever it was he was doing.
The minute he walked in announcing he was finished, your two piece suit was on and you were throwing Dave’s swim trunks at him from across the room. Tote bag containing pool lounging necessities— sunscreen, sunglasses, current book, wallet —was packed and waiting by the door. Your sheer excitement filled the room, a contagious feeling in the way Dave was mildly laughing at your frantic antics.
Either you both were the only ones staying at this hotel or no one else found joy in a gorgeous rooftop pool like you did. In the few hours spent lounging poolside, there was one, maybe two, other guests that also had an afternoon by the pool on their itinerary, too. There was a silent understanding among everyone that they stay in their respective spaces, evenly spaced out.
No one was complaining though. Fewer people meant less people lined up for cocktail refills at the bar. Fewer obnoxious conversations you didn’t have to drown out while focusing on the romance novel you were close to finishing. Zero avoidance of bodies in the water while Dave and you took a dip to cool off. Aside from visiting the pacific, this is how you intended to spend the rest of your days in California.
The moment you dive into your book, time and everything around you becomesa faint distraction from the fictional world you're absorbed in. The sheriff with his cowboy drawl and ridiculously handsome mustache, falls for the sweet baker. A reunion of past lovers, doing life together somewhere on the east coast in the small town they both reside in. A typical smitten cowboy vying for her love and attention at any chance he gets. There’s a permanent smile plastered across your face, dog-eared corners for future you to return to with the intention to relive the passages all over again. Page by page, you’re so engrossed with their whirlwind romance— you never want it to end.
The book consumes you longer than you planned for. So much so, you're unaware of the fact that Dave is no longer immersed in the LA Times he picked up in the hotel lobby earlier. The inked paper now folded neatly and discarded on the ground next to your tote.
Dave’s tortoise colored shades blocking out the sun and hiding the fact that he’s passed out. For how long, you’re not sure. Breathing is light and rhythmic. His usual thundering snore trades for small puffs of air from his parted lips. His bare golden chest, now a pale shade of red— shit!
Folding the current page of the book, tossing it to the end of your lounge chair, you sit up in search for more sunscreen for Dave, and yourself. Sifting through the contents of your tote, finding the bottle conveniently at the bottom. Hating the feeling of residual lotion getting between your jewelry, you remove your rings and toss them into a secured pocket inside the tote.
“Dave? Babe, wake up!” Gently nudging his bare shoulder to wake him.
“Hmmm—“ Dave grumbles a string of incoherent sleep laden words, lifting his head in your direction.
“Sorry. You passed out and I was so caught up in my book, I didn’t realize the umbrella shade wasn’t covering us anymore. You’re not completely burnt, but we’ve been here for a while. Sit up and let me put some more sunscreen on you.” You motion for him to sit forward, then squeeze a heaping amount of lotion in your hand, tossing the back into the tote.
Dave hissed, his back arching as you smooth the lotion over his warmed skin, allowing himself to ease into your touch after a few tensed moments. His head hangs below his shoulders as you continue to work the sunscreen over every inch of him that’s exposed to the blazing sun.
“Fuuuuck— that feels nice.” He groans when your touch switches to a different pressure. Adjusting your focus from protecting him from the harmful rays to pampering him, working out the built up tension he carries around daily.
Your fingers dig into the meat of his back as they glide up the length of his spine, pinching and squeezing over the rounded muscles of his shoulders. Thumbs pressing into the tender spot in his neck he’s been rubbing at for the better part of the last few weeks, craning his neck to the side. So relaxed you can barely make out his mumbled appreciation. “That fucking knot has been bothering me— Ouch! Fucking hell, woman!”
“Shh! So dramatic.” You laugh, easing up on the pressure. Your hands still lingering, smoothing over his broadness, taking advantage of the closeness.
“Oh, quit it. Those hands always were fucking magic, though. Already feels better when I move it.” Demonstrating how limber and loose it feels, rolling his head from side to side.
Were. His use of past tense doesn’t go unnoticed. It might have just been an unintentional slip, but its use isn’t lost on you in the slightest. It feels like it’s been ages, since you had explored each other— more than just a fleeting brush of hands. Reveling in an endless honeymoon phase, well beyond the traditional sense. You can only assume he had that same realization too, hence his choice in using were instead of are. But this moment feels too good to dwell on the logistics of proper past and present tense, so you push the thought aside.
“I’m sure if you play your cards right, there’s plenty more magic these hands can do later.” You playfully purred, not missing the way Dave’s eyebrows jut up from behind his sunglasses— that catches his attention.
You settle back into your lounge chair, sliding the straps of your bikini top down and off your arms, turning it into a makeshift strapless top as you prepare to cover yourself in a fresh layer of sunscreen.
“What are you doing?” Dave tilts his head forward, just enough so he can peer at you over his glasses.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m reapplying some on myself, too.” Running the oily lotion up your arms and shoulders.
“Here. Let me help you. Seems only fair.” His hand reaches out to you.
“It’s fine, Dave. I can manage.”
You’re not sure why you're shocked by his offer. Probably because you just assumed he would be diving back into reading up on worldly news. Top slimy politician was fighting for his life against rather damning accusations— the man is guilty, solely based on public opinion polls and your inherent duty as a woman to always believe the woman. Research shows more couples are putting their careers first, waiting to have children well into their thirties— that one does catch your eye, making a mental note to snag the article at some point. Sure, you can manage, but you also don’t want to. Not with him right here, so willing and capable.
“Don’t be stubborn, Baby. And don’t think I won’t drag that sweet ass of yours over here if I have to. Give me the bottle and sit down.”
It feels incredible. You have to remind yourself that you’re both in a public setting. This isn’t the time nor the place to let the salacious side of you self-indulge, but Dave’s hands are inducing the most carnal thoughts and it’s taking everything in you to not haul him back up to the room.
Dave had practically hauled you into the chair. Maneuvering you both into a comfortable sitting position, his legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground and you practically sitting in his lap.
The task at hand is long forgotten, no longer a priority or even a relevant thought as you melted into him. His chest firm against your back, thighs caging and tight against your own.
It’s when his hands cup your breast that nearly sends you into another dimension, so brazen and menacing. A practiced musician, slowly plucking each string of his beloved instrument as the chords play the intro to his well rehearsed song. Rolling your peaked nipples between his fingers, the fabric of your top adding just the right amount of pinched pulsation. Your eyes fluttering shut as your head falls back onto his shoulder, stifling a moan as pleasure surges through you.
“I swear to god, Dave— fuck! Someone is going to catch us! ahh! Y-you need to s-stop before…”
“Hmmm. I don’t know, Baby— I think you want them to see. Want them to catch my hands all over you. Hear the sounds I’m able to pull from you. I could probably fuck you right here and no one would even care.” Dave murmurs into your ear. A husked sonorous tone that has you completely surrendering to him.
He seems to have this whole thing thoroughly thought out in a brief amount of time. Keen to his surroundings, already having scanned the entire area, aware of the people situated in cabanas on the far corner of the pool— paying no mind to either of you. His methodical nature takes hold, even as exposed as you are, he’d never put you in any situation he didn’t have complete confidence in.
“Dave—“ Your body writhes with each continuous change in motion, the way he’s oscillating between a dizzy tweak of your nipples and the sudden dart of his tongue grazing your ear lobe.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you. It’s been so long— fucking miss the way you feel, Baby.” Fuck. He’s not wrong.
You might have even mentioned you would be into it at some point. All vulnerable and the slightest possibility of being detected. It was more thrilling than you had expected it to be. You weren’t even ashamed how you were so absolutely turned on by your own boldness.
“Please—“
“I bet you’re fucking wet for me too. Hmm? Would take much— pull those skimpy little bottoms to the side, bet I’d slide right in.” God you were! Unquestionably so, and throbbing.
His hand traveled to where you’ve been craving him for so long, fingers brushing the top of your bathing suit bottoms.
“Christ! Don’t you d-dare put those lotion covered fingers anywhere near my— Fuuuuck!”
Dave wouldn’t dare, but that doesn’t mean he won’t work around it. His hand cupping your clothed mound, your eager hips rocking against the heel of his palm. His face smashes into your cheek when he feels how wet you are, your bottoms sticky with arousal and clinging to your pussy as he slides two fingers back up to your aching clit. Groaning as he takes your lobe between his teeth and gently bites down.
“Tsk tsk!” Clicking his tongue in a menacing manner. “Eyes open, Baby. Need you to keep watch, can’t have anyone seeing you while you fall apart.”
You’ve missed this side of him. Spontaneous sex was always something that was a regular occurrence in your early relationship even well into your marriage. You always looked forward to the days he’d come home without so much as a hello when he walked through the front door. His briefcase and coat were abandoned somewhere in the entryway— I missed you so much today. Need you right now —and then he was fucking you like a starved man against the wall in the hallway.
“Dave—“ Your lashes flutter, the sun unforgiving as you fight to keep your eyes focused on your surroundings. Your body so desperate for pleasure, so willing to succumb, just needing a little help to get there.
Each tender circle he draws over your clit has your brain muddled with bliss. A restrained whimper escapes, doing your best to concentrate as Dave continues to work you into a euphoric mess. But it’s so hard when your body has been yearning for this, all of this, for so long.
Your nails bite into his thighs as your lower abdomen begins to tighten.
“Baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Those gorgeous sounds are gonna get us in trouble.” Fuck! Almost there! So fucking close—
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
“Dave— is that…” The lounge vibrates, halting Dave’s movements. The orgasm that was just starting to barrel towards you, vanishing from your grasp.
“Shit! I, uh, think someone saw us—“ What?! No one is even paying attention!
Dave extricates himself from the chair, adjusting his sunglasses and his pronounced erection bulging under his swim trunks. He hastily grabs for some things as you sit perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. Your sexy audacious husband is gone before your eyes— leaving you with the tight lipped cryptic Dave, who you can’t seem to get a read on.
“What the fuck, Dave!” Watching as he slips on his sandals and throws his shirt over himself, playing no mind to a single button.
“Let’s finish this later— when we get back to the room, hmm? I’m gonna… go get us more drinks.” He says as he kisses the top of your head and heads in the direction of the bar. Hoping he brings back some shots, because you’re gonna need something strong to take the fucking edge off.
“Yeah— sure…” You say. Stunned and breathless.
*
You're not sure if you want to cry, scream or laugh as you crawl back into your chair. Maybe a mixture of all of them. What a sight that would be.
That brief glimpse of the fun adventurous Dave was intoxicating, even now your body is still buzzing and aroused. There’s a pang in your chest at how quickly he was able to mold back into the man you’ve needed for the past year, yearned to have back. Then instantly closed off and distant as if it never happened. Maybe the sun was getting to you, that whole moment some fucking hallucinated fantasy.
Rather than dwell on it, you push the hurt aside. You reach for your book and settle back into the chair. Finding where you left off and jumping back in with the handsome sheriff, who literally worships the ground that this woman walks on— must be nice.
“S’cuse me ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?” A deep voice breaks your concentration, realizing he’s in fact asking you if the unoccupied seat next to you is available.
A man in his mid forties, maybe early fifties is standing at the foot of the chair next to you. Your sunglasses hide the fact that you're giving him a once over, noting every detail about this random stranger who’s decided of all the empty seats, he wants the one next to you.
His hair is slightly disheveled in a deliberate manner. Peppered streaks of gray throughout his curly locks. He’s wearing green and red plaid swim shorts and a worn dark blue t-shirt, kind of an odd pairing but it seems to work for him. You notice a dimple hidden beneath the gray scruff that almost hides his angular features. He seems harmless and rather handsome— plus, it would be rude to turn him away with no explanation.
“Nope. Feel free to use it.” You smile at him kindly and go in search of the words you had just read.
“Thanks so much.” He says as he removes his shirt and settles down on the lounge chair.
“Of course. It’s no problem at all.” You tell him.
You don’t even dare to look in his direction. You imagine this is what Eve felt like, tempted and allured by carnality in the form of an apple. Except your carnal desire is a fizzling orgasm your husband couldn’t even be bothered to deliver, now reawakening at the sight of this beautiful man.
You would never act on anything, even as beautiful as he was, you were married and you love Dave— but that didn’t mean you couldn't admire, sunglasses masking your lingering eyes.
“I’m Joel by the way. Joel Miller.” His hand outstretched to you, that damn dimple even more pronounced when he smiles.
“I take it you’re not from around these parts are you now, Joel.” You give him your name and return the handshake— his grip is rather firm, but friendly.
“What gave it away?” He laughs. There’s a hint of southern drawl woven into his rich voice.
“Well, you don’t seem like the California boy type for starters. Not that that’s a bad thing— I just get the impression you’re far from home.” You fold another page and drop your book into your bag, your attempt at reading sidelined again.
“You’d be correct then. Texas— born ‘n raised. Since we’re makin’ impressions, I’m gonna guess you’re not from ‘round here either?” He looks over to you, his arms crossed over his tanned chest. The breeze catching a few of his curls, tossing them about.
“You would also be correct. So what brings you all the way west, cowboy?”
“My daughter, actually. She’s gettin’ married this week. Fiancé’s family is out here and they’ve got connections and what not, so they’re able to do it here at the hotel. They put me up in one of the suites, bein’ I am the father of the bride an’ all.”
“Oh! Congratulations then. I’m sure you’re so excited then.”
“Yea’. Crazy seein’ her all grown up an’ goin’ off on her own. Still got one more though. She’s turning 16– little wild thing she is. Keeps me on my toes, but I love her for it.”
You get the sense that being a father is one of his favorite things. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he started talking about his kids.
“You and your wife must be so proud.”
“Nah, no wife— or girlfriend. Jus’ me and my girls. So, now that I’ve bothered you with my life story. What brings you out this way to California?”
What am I even doing in California? You think to yourself. It’s then you catch sight of your husband at the bar. Dave is already looking in your direction, leaning against the wood counter, waving at you with his phone glued to his ear.
“See that guy over at the bar? The one talking on the phone.” You wave back at Dave. You pick up on the shift in his demeanor from where you're sitting. His jaw clenched and brows furrowed enough you can make out the deep lines across his forehead. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shooting daggers at Joel— but you do know better, and that’s exactly what’s happening. “That’s my husband. We’re supposed to be here relaxing— not working. But he’s over there taking a phone call, when he was going to grab us more drinks and I’m here relaxing. Maybe one day he’ll actually show some interest in me again— until then it’s just work work work. Geez— I’m sorry to dump all of that personal shit on you. Like you even care about a stranger's marital problems.”
“No need to apologize— I get it. My ex and me had our own issues. Tried to work through them, for the sake of the kids n’ all.” He says, waving off your apology.
“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” You look out over the pool, catching a few gulls passing over. You can already sense his heavy answer before he even gives it to you.
“Well, she’s my ex for a reason. But it’s for the best. And not saying that’s what’s gonna happen for you. We love our kids and do this whole co-parentin’ thing better than when we were married. Umm— y'all got any kids?”
“Uhh— no, no kids. Yet… I think? I mean, we both talked about once our careers were established we would start trying. And we did try for a bit, but never got pregnant, which we were okay with— figured it would happen when it happens. But now, I’m not really sure if it’s what he wants anymore.” You pick at the polish on your nails.
You realize it’s been awhile since you and Dave readdressed the conversation about having kids. It’s always been idling in the back of your mind. Becoming a mother was something you would love to do. With Dave never really ever being present or interested in any sort of in-depth conversation, you haven’t really discussed where you both stand now on the topic.
“Have you asked him?”
“No. I haven’t. I probably sh—“
You’re cut off when Dave reappears, holding nothing but his phone and wallet.
“Hey, Sweetheart!” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, his tone a slightly higher pitch than usual, though he tries to hide it as he bends to kiss the top of your head.
“Babe, this is Joel. He’s here for his oldest daughter’s wedding. Joel, this is my husband Dave. Where’s our drinks?” Attempting to ease the weird tension he brought back with him instead of your drinks. .
Dave’s glaring at Joel. His lips pressed in a tight line and his nostrils flared. Irritated? No, it’s jealousy. He’s jealous and it’s oozing from him. Dave was jealous at the attention, all innocent and friendly, that you were receiving from another man.
“Uh, nice to meet you.” Dave reaches over you, taking Joel’s hand in his. He’s friendly enough, even though his smile looks rather forced. “We hate to run out on you like this, Joel— we’ve got dinner reservations later on and the sun is starting to get to me. You don’t mind if we head to the room early, Babe.”
“Yeah, of course, Baby. Let’s go— you probably need more water and some rest before dinner.” You get up from the chair to pull your cover up dress on and begin to gather everything between yours and Joel’s chair, throwing it haphazardly back into your bag. “It was so nice meeting you, Joel. Hope your daughter has a beautiful day and you have a great time.”
“Thank you. Now you two get outta here and enjoy your evening. My brother is wanderin’ around somewhere. I’m sure he’ll end up here at some point. Nice meetin’ y'all.” Joel says, giving a cordial nod and a two finger wave.
You call out to Dave when you realize he’s already halfway to the exit, hoping he’ll snap out of whatever this thing is he’s doing. Knowing it’s more than just the sun that’s bothering him.
“Dave, what’s going on? Are you okay?” You ask, stepping into the elevator with him.
“I’m good. Got a bit of a headache. Probably just too much sun.” His thumb smashes into the floor number. The elevator doors slowly obstructing the rooftop view.
*
The walk back to the room felt like it was never ending. The slap on your sandals against the carpeted floor and exchanged hello’s with the sweet old lady dragging far more bars than she could handle were the only sounds echoing through the long hallway.
Dave’s body, all broad and inflexible, blocked the room door as he searched for the key card in his wallet.
“Dave? Are you going to talk to me and tell me what’s actually going on?” You ask softly.
The door beeps and Dave pushes it open. He seems to not have lost all his senses because he holds it open for you.
“Dave, will you at least look at me— please?” You toss everything you’re carrying onto the bed, watching him walk over to the floor to the large windows.
Even from behind, you know he’s wearing his sharp scowl. Proven by the way his hip is cocked out and on hand resting on his waist, head hanging with his attention on the floor. Too embarrassed to acknowledge he might have overreacted up at the pool.
“Dave, were you jealous?.” You ask, your voice velvety and sweet. Taking a few tempered steps, you close the distance between you and where he’s standing, needing him to know everything was okay. You smooth over his solid back, all brooding with his shoulder blades tightly drawn together. One hand sliding around to his chest and the other reaching for the hand hanging at his side, intertwining your fingers with his, your grip tightening around him. “Baby— you were, weren't you? It’s okay if you were, you know. It’s obviously a natural reaction to have. I know I’d react the same way if it were you and some gorgeous woman. But baby, you know I only have eyes for you and only you— always. I love you, Dave.”
“I love you and I’m sorry.” Dave sighs, his hand squeezing back. I overreacted and shouldn’t have— it's implied without him actually voicing it, but you know he means it.
“Did you still want to go out for dinner? If you’re not feeling up to it, we can just order in again so you can rest.” You ask him, resting your nose and lips against his sun warmed skin, breathing him in.
His aroma is pungent, but familiarly pleasant. A subtle note of coconut blends with his trademark spicy musk and sweat. It reminds you of the summer while you were dating, Dave whisked you away to Rehoboth Beach on the coast of Delaware. Renting out a beach house on the water where you spent every morning watching the sun flee the horizon from the front porch. Evenings spent walking near the water’s edge, recounting your favorite parts of the day and dreaming of a future together.
“Yeah, we can still go out. I just— I need a minute. Gonna get some fresh air.” He says, turning his head to tell you over his shoulder.
“Okay. I’m going to take a quick shower then.” You kiss the nape of his neck before you leave, grabbing the robe off the accent chair as you head to the bathroom.
At the flick of the switch, a soft glow of light cascades from the decorative wall sconces. Everything becomes very automatic as you move through the room, placing the robe over the sink, ridding yourself of your pool attire, thrown into a growing pile in the corner of the room. Intent on unwinding, trusting the spray of hot water will alleviate the weight of today’s tension before going out with your husband, until you hear Dave’s voice fading as he walks out into the balcony, muffled by the distant waves and passing cars.
“Hey, Ashley. It’s Dave, sorry about earlier…”
Ashley. It’s light and beautiful, and yet feels like the most threatening thing to have ever pierce through your heart. All your emotions flowing, congealing as one giant mass within your ribcage. Its numbness best describes the way you feel, hollowing out the pain in your chest. It's too much to deal with or even believe. You shut the door, avoidance being one of your worst traits— but if you don’t confront it, it doesn’t exist.
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