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weird-is-life · 11 months

Text

Here for you

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: 4 times you take care of Spencer and one time he takes care of you

Warnings: use of y/n, like one petname, swearing, mentions of injuries, bruises, blood, mentions of food, hospitals, abduction, mention of car accident

Words: 6.8k. Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language,so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

It's slow day at the bau. Everybody is going through their files and reports. Or at least they are pretending to be doing that.

Your desk is next to Spencer's, so you can clearly see what he is doing. He, probably the only one, is actually working. With his incredibly fast reading, he is putting one paper down after another. Which, you have to say is pretty fascinating and entertaining to watch. Well, up until the point he accidentally cuts not one but 2 of his fingers on the paper.

You hear him hiss in pain, which causes you to break out of your thoughts. Your attention is immediately on him.

His hand starts to get a bit bloody, you don't think, you've ever seen so much blood from a paper cut. So you are up on your legs before you know it. Spencer is frantically looking for what you assume is a tissue in his drawer, when you wrap his fingers in your tissue.

"Here," you say, smiling at him, "who knew a paper cut could bleed so much, huh?"

You expect some fact about paper cuts from Spencer, but he is still looking for something in his desk, so he just hums in agreement.

"Spence," you get his attention,"what are you looking for?"

"Uhh, my antiseptic spray, but I can't find it anywhere and I don't want it to get infected or something," he responds.

"I have one!" You always carry a small first aid kit with you. You never know, when it could come in handy. "I'll get it." You are quick to retrieve it from you bag along with some patches.

"Can I?" you gesture at his hand.

"You want to do it?" he asks, a little unsure and bashful.

"Yes, so can I?" Spencer nods and you gently take his hand in yours. As you patch up his hand, you can feel his eyes studying your face. You can't help but to blush under his gaze.

Spencer's thinking of how pretty you look and that, maybe he should get the paper cuts more often, just for you to take care of him oh so softly.

"All done," you say with a smile,"hopefully i did okay."

It takes Spencer a few seconds to realise you are talking to him and stop looking at you. You clearly catch him staring at you.

He quickly tries to play it off and gives you the best smile he can, "you did, thank you y/n."

"You are very welcome," you think of teasing him about being more careful around papers, but you decide, that he looks flustered good enough.

It's been a tough few days. The unsub is pretty smart and it took the team almost a week to find out who it is.

You are now standing outside the unsub's house about to go inside on Derek's cue. The team has split up in a half, you, Derek and Hotch are at the front door.

As soon as the door is opened, there's a lot of shouting and the unsub takes off to the back door. He catches Spencer off guard there and roughly slams him against the wall and runs away. Almost everybody runs after him, except you and Rossi. You two swiftly go to Spencer.

Spencer is lying on the floor, groaning in pain and your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you see him like that. It only takes you and Dave a few seconds to see that his shoulder doesn't look okay. And from closer look, it definitely isn't alright.

"Don't move," Dave instructs him," I think, you might have dislocated your shoulder." You call for a medic, as you look at Dave and then at Spencer with a worried frown.

You find Spencer's hand and squeeze it reassurance. He tries to give you the best smile he can over the pain. You don't even want to imagine to amount of pain he is in, his expression is enough for you to know it's bad.

Thankfully, the medics get to you in a short time and take Spencer to the ambulance. In the ambulance, he is told, that it's definitely dislocated and that they need to put in back in the right place. Spencer's eyes widen a little at that, but he braces himself for it and manages to survive it with only a small whimper of pain.

You stay with him the whole time, as they treat him and honestly you probably look more in pain than Spencer. You hate to see him like this.

"You shouldn't move your shoulder too much for 2 weeks," the medic starts to instruct as she puts some kind of bandage around his shoulder, "also you should ice it every couple of hours for the next couple of days. It will reduce the pain and swelling."

"It doesn't look, that anything is broken or teared, so you should just let it rest, but if it hurts too much, you should go to the hospital."

"Thank you," Spencer says and gets up slowly with your help.

"Does it hurt a lot?" you ask on the way to the car.

"Yeah, so fucking much, I'd literally die for some painkillers right now," he groans.

"Wish I had any, but I left everything at the hotel. I'll try to get there as fast as I can," you say, as you open the door for him and help him inside. He hisses in pain, while doing so and you murmur a sympathetic sorry to him.

On the ride to the hotel, he closes his eyes, willing the pain to go away and you try to drive as best as you can, considering that every bump sends a jolt of pain to his shoulder.

At the hotel, you quickly pack up your things and head to Spencer's room with the painkillers in your hand. You find him struggling to even fold his clothes, so you help him.

"Got everything you need?" you ask as you look around the room, seeing if you've packed everything.

"I think so, thank you" he smiles at you. You return the smile, "of course, Spence. We should probably go, everyone is already in the car."

As soon as you get on the plane, Spencer lays down on the couch and you can't blame him, he looks so tired and the painkillers dulled the pain, but made him exhausted.

He is out in a matter of seconds, even before the plane manages to take off. It's quite chilly on the plane and you realise Spencer doesn't even have a sweater on. So of course, you get up and softly put a blanket over him.

You know, you are in for a hell, when you see Derek's big smirk.

"What?" you frown at him.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that pretty boy is being well taken care of," he says smugly," wonder if I'd get the same treatment."

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes at him," of course, I'd take care of you, too."

"Okay, yeah. But I wouldn't receive that kind of a look with the care," he smirks again, clearly amused by your furrowed brows.

"What do you mean? What look?"

"I'm talking about you looking at Spencer like he is a literal sunshine," Derek says as it is some kind of well - known fact.

"I'm...-I'm not!" You lie, but it's such a bad lie, that even you don't believe it.

"You're the worst liar ever," he scoffs, "everybody can see, that you and Spencer like each other. Well everybody, except for you."

"Spencer doesn't like me." Nobody has to make this situation worse for you, you do it yourself.

"Are you kidding me? That boy is absolutely whipped for you. I'm surprised, that he can even function when near you," he chuckles.

"W-what?"

"It's all true, ask anyone, they'll say the same thing." You don't say anything back anymore, you think about what he said. Does Spencer really like you back? There's no way.

You overthink it for a good while, until the tiredness from the day catches up to you too and you fall asleep.

You go from the airport straight to Spencer's apartment. Obviously, he can't drive and you live not so far from him, so you drive the two of you through the empty night streets.

You don't talk much during the drive, because his eyelids keep closing every few seconds and you don't feel like breaking the comfortable silence. So you drive with the radio put on low volume, quietly humming a song to yourself.

When you finally park in his driveway, you jump out of the car and take out his travel bags out of the trunk, while he slowly gets out.

"Thank you for driving me home, you don't have to go up with me. I can take my bags, I don't want to keep you up anymore late," Spencer says and reaches out with his unharmed arm for the bag, but you put it out of his reach.

"You literally can't even put your hand up and you expect me to let you carry this heavy ass bag up the stairs?" you look with a disbelief at him, "there's no way, I'm doing that. So come on, start walking Spence, before I'll make you."

Your serious tone lifts Spencer's corners of the mouth up into a smile. You leave no space for Spencer to argue with you, because you are already walking towards his door with a tight grip on the bag.

You've been at Spencer's apartment many times before, but it always feels like being at a library or somewhere very quiet, I mean like in a good way. It gives off the vibes of comfort, peace and home. Even now, you feel slightly jealous, that your place doesn't feel like that. As you look around, Spencer flops (carefully) on his couch and sighs.

"Spence, do you have ice?" you wonder.

"Umm ice? Yeah, I think so..." He doesn't ask, why do you want to know that, too tired to care about it. Only when you emerge with a smaller pack of ice, wrapped in a dishtowel, he understands.

"Here," you cautiously put it on his hurt shoulder," you should ice it for a bit, so it reduces the pain ."

"Thank you, y/n" he says with a warm smile.

"Don't mention it-"

"No, really. Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot," Spencer does something really brave, he takes your hand into his and gives you a little squeeze. He doesn't know if it's the medicine or if he's going crazy by doing this, but he settles that he doesn't actually mind, because your hand fits perfectly into his and he doesn't feel like letting go off it ever again.

You squeeze his hand back, but before any of you can do or say something stupid, that you'd later regret, you tell him, " I don't know if you have any painkillers, so I left you some in the kitchen. If you need anything and i mean anything, even something small, call me, yeah? I'll come."

"Get some rest, Spence. I'll check up on you in the morning, goodnight." You give him one more smile, which he returns and leave.

The memory of his hand on yours invades your mind for a good while making it hard for you to even fall asleep. Spencer's only saved from this overthinking by the exhaustion and painkillers affect.

Since the morning, you think there is something off about Spencer. His eyes are glossy, he looks very pale and every now and then he shivers. You've asked him multiple times since you've arrived, if he feels okay and he's said yes everytime.

But there's just no way you believe him and by every hour that goes by you don't think, that even Spencer or anyone around believes it. He is for sure coming down with something.

Your prediction is confirmed, when Hotch walks out of his office and on his way to get coffee, he passes Spencer's desk. He instantly stops next to his desk, takes one look at Spencer and knows, he should not be working.

"Reid, go home, before you make anybody else sick, too," Hotch orders him and before Spencer can open his mouth to protest, Aaron adds," and don't come back until you don't look like you might pass out any second." He also orders Anderson to drive him home, so Spencer doesn't have any choice but to go.You give him a small smile and mouth, that he should get some rest.

For the rest of the time you are at work, you are a little bored. Your deskmate, Spencer, is always up to chat or something, but without him the clock on the wall seems to go slower. Finally, you get to leave and your first stop on the way home is pharmacy and a soup shop.

You want to make sure Spencer is okay and alive, that's what good friends do, right? They check up on you when you have a flu or not?

You quickly get to his place, before you can think too much of it. You knock ones and then second time, when Spencer opens the door, looking even worse the he had before. There's a sweat running down his face, his skin is even paler and he can barely keep his eyes open.

"Y/N?" he squints at you in confusion.

"Hi Spence. Did I wake you up? I just came to drop of these," you lift the bags in your hand higher, " i got you your favourite soup and some medicine."

"Oh, you shouldn't have worried," he groggily says, his voice sounding sick and gestures for you to come inside.

"I know, but I wanted to. I also wanted to make sure, you were alright." You reassure him as you set the bags down in his kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" you quizz, "and don't say okay."

"Bad. One minute I'm burning and the next I'm freezing. My head hurts like a hell and honestly I feel like dying," he responds and you try not to laugh at how dramatic his last 5 words are.

"Did you take any medicine?"

"Not really, I could only find some painkillers and I feel too sick to go buy anything else."

"Well, good thing I'm here then," you smile big at him," I got all sort of medicine, so we'll have you healthy in no time."

You start to set everything out of the bags on the table and as you do, you look at Spencer, who is barely even standing looking at you. "How about you go lay down, Spence and I'll bring everything to you, yeah?"

You encourage him and he knows, that that's probably the smartest idea right now. He slowly nods and goes to lay down on the couch, which you realise, he's been laying on since he got home.

You go to him after a few minutes with the medicine and a glass of water. You find him asleep, he looks so peaceful, that you almost don't have the heart to wake him up. But you have to, he needs the medicine if he wants to get better.

You gently shake him awake and it takes him a good minute to realise, that you are in front of him.

"Hi," you giggle at him, " I'm sorry I woke you up again, Spence. I got you these," you hand him the water and the pills. He obediently swallows them and drains the whole glass of water down.

"Thank you," he yawns.

"Do you also want the soup ?" you ask and he shakes his head with a no. "Okay, but you should try to eat something later, yeah? I'll go get you some more water for now."

Before you have the chance to get far away from him, he catches your arm, "Will you stay, please?"

His question catches you off guard, you think that maybe the combination of the high temperature and the medicine kicking in make him a little delirious, because you are pretty sure he wouldn't ask you to stay otherwise. It's Spencer and he doesn't like to ask for help very often. But there's only one correct answer for you.

"Of course, I'll stay." You tell him fondly and he visibly relaxes after that and closes his eyes .

By the time you are back with another glass of water and a cold compress to lower the temperature, he is sleeping again.

Thankfully, this time you don't need to wake him up, you just put the cold washcloth on his forehead and set the glass down on the coffee table. You browse his bookshelves, looking for a good book to read. You know, that Spencer won't mind one bit you borrowing his book. So you take one that catches your eye and sit comfortably in his armchair to read it.

You read for a while and when Spencer wakes up again, he is happy to listen to you about the book (which, of course, he's read multiple times and tries hard not to give you any spoilers about it) while he sluggishly eats the soup.

He is all snuggled up in his blankets and he looks so adorable, that it's making unknown feelings bubble up in your chest. It's not just now, you've been having this kind of weird and new feelings around Spencer more and more often than you'd like to admit. You know what they mean, but you don't really want to acknowledge them. So you don't. Although, in situations like this it's hard. And it's been harder since Derek pointed these feelings out.

Before you can spiral any deeper into these thoughts, you get up to cold the washcloth again.

"Are you feeling any better, Spence?" It's been a few hours you've been with him and he appears to be a bit better.

"A little, yeah. It's only thanks to you, tho" he says and good thing you aren't near him, because you blush madly at that.

"Yeah? I'm glad," you put the washcloth under a very cold water, judging by your white fingers and the loss of feeling of them, you think it's cold enough.

You go back to Spencer and to your surprise he is not yet asleep.

"Can you lay down?" you gesture to the washcloth with a chuckle, you can't really put it on his head, when he is sitting.

"Oh, yes," he slides down the couch, 'till he is laying and you put it on his head.

"Not too cold?" you ask.

"No no, it's great thank you y/n," he sighs happily, the cold is very soothing. His eyelids close right away and even though you are having a small talk about how was work today, he manages to fall asleep. Your heart swells, you haven't seen him this tired like ever. You are glad he is resting though, he has deserved the rest for quite some time now.

You notice the clock on the wall and realise how late it is. Almost an hour after midnight, so you quietly scramble to your feet and take all of your stuff to leave. Before you do, you write him a little note, telling him where everything he needs is and that he should call you in the morning. You leave it in front of him on the coffee table, but before you go home, you do one extremely bold thing. You caringly kiss him on the top of his head, it's in a way a goodbye since you can't say anything to him. And then you dissappear out of there like a ghost.

The next morning, you oversleep and on your hurry to get to work, you almost knock over a huge bouquet of flowers that is at your door. You are a bit baffled, who is it from, but when you find the card, you know it's Spencer.

He send you the flowers as a thank you for taking care of him, saying that he hasn't been taken care of like this in a while and at that moment, you realise that you can't ignore these feelings anymore. Because he is making it impossible.

It's the middle of the night, when your phone rings. You half expect it to be work, even though you are on a vacation for the week. The team has been working on a case near Quantico, so you told Hotch to call you if you were needed.

What you don't expect is the call to be from a hospital not from Hotch. In your half-asleep stage, you catch the words "Reid", "hurt", "okay" and "an emergency contact". You are up on your feet, messily throwing some clothes on you and jumping in your car, before the nurse can even hang up.

You drive to the hospital in a record time. It's a big plus, that it's the middle of the night and there are barely any cars on the road. You basically run out of the car and the nurse at the reception definitely thinks you look a bit mad. You can't blame her, youu think it too, I mean you haven't even brushed your hair or anything, so you must look like a nightmare. You ask her about Spencer and after a few seconds, she tells you where to go.

You speed-walk there and find almost the whole team there.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Penelope questions, surprised to see you there and goes to squeeze the life out of you.

"I-I got a call from the hospital. Spencer.....I-is he okay?" you queried anxiously.

"He is okay, he is quite bruised and beaten up, but he should be fine."

"What happened and where is JJ?" you puzzle, you can't see her here.

"He was following a lead on the unsub with JJ, which resulted in them chasing him in a car and unfortunately they got hit while doing so. Thankfully, both of them are okay, just some bruises and scratches, nothing too serious," Hotch explains, " JJ is already home with Will and Henry, she was farther from the impact . They wanted to keep Spencer for observation to really make sure he is alright."

It is a weight off your heart to hear those words.

"Thank god," you say as you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart, "can i go see him?"

"Definitely, he's awake. We were just leaving, there's a lot of paperwork waiting for us at the Bau. See you on Monday, y/n." You say goodbye to everybody, on their way out Penelope huggs you and gives you a cheeky smile and you know what it means, because you've been given this look before. It's the exact teasing look, that Derek gave you not so long ago. You just roll your eyes at it and playfully push her towards the others.

You find Spencer trying to reach for his bag on the chair next to the bed.

"Spence, hi," you greet him warmly, it's relieving to hear that he is okay, but actually seeing him, it's like you can breath again. He looks alright, but he is definitely bruised, he has a black eye already forming and there's a few scratches on his face as well.

You quickly go hug him," I'm so happy, you're not hurt."

"Ouch," he winces, you probably squeezed some of his bruises.

"I'm sorry," you pull away with a sorry look.

"Y/N? How are you here? Did Garcia call you? I told her not to wake you up-" Spencer wanted you here with him, you make him feel better everytime, but he didn't want to bother you, especially not so late. He knew, you'd be here in a matter of seconds, if you'd heard that he got hurt.

"She didn't, the hospital did," you interrupt him.

"What?....Oh," he suddenly realises what you are talking about, he put you as one of his emergency contacts, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" you ask softly and sit on the side of his bed.

"For you having to come here in the middle of the night and f-for putting you on my emergency contact list."

"Of course I came, Spencer. And I don't mind one bit, that you put me on the list. I'm just glad, you're okay," you reassure him, because honestly he is being ridiculous, "I will always come whenever you need help, Spencer," you take his hand in yours to show you really do mean it.

"Still, I should have at least asked you."

"No need for that, I'm flattered that you put me on it."

"Yeah well, you are always here for me when I'm not well," he shyly admits, " I know I can rely on you."

"I feel the same about you," you smile at him," how are you feeling, huh?"

"Not bad, I think my face is the worst part of my injuries, the airbag is no joke," you agree with that.

"Don't worry about the bruises, you are still very much handsome," you don't know how this slips out of your mouth, but it does. Both yours and Spencer's cheeks go red.

"Ugh, c-can I go get you anything?" you quickly try to change the topic.

"Yes, even though it's literally 3 a.m. I'd kill for sandwiches right now." You chuckle and swiftly slip out of the room. You are trying not to feel too embarrassment about what you just said to Spencer and just focus on finding the sandwiches.

It's surprisingly easy to do so, because there's a hospital cafeteria opened. You buy him the sandwiches and also a bottle of water.

Spencer is also trying not to think too much out of you calling him handsome. He likes you, like a lot and he doesn't think he could survive the rejection. So he doesn't want to get his hopes up, he'd rather just stay your friend.

You stay with Spencer 'till he gets released, you don't mean to do that, but you fall asleep in the chair. So when you wake up, you just simply stay until he gets the release papers and then drive him home.

"Thank you y/n, i-i can't even begin to express how thankful I am," you've helped him so much lately. Like you literally helped him wash his hair when his shoulder got dislocated, you took care of him when he had a flu and now you came running to the hospital just to make sure he was okay. Hell even when he had a small paper cut months ago, you took care of him.

He also remembers you giving him a kiss on the top of his head, when he had the flu. He isn't sure if this memory is even real, because he might have been hallucinating from the high temperature. But he does hope it'd happened.

And everytime he thinks of these things, his heart actually skips a beat.

"You don't have to say anything, Spence. I'm here for you anytime," you smile at him, oh so sweetly, that he almost forgets his previous thoughts about rather staying just your friend.

"I'd like to repay you in some way-"

"No need-"

"But I want to. How about a coffee? Monday morning, it'll be on me. I know it's not much, but it's the least I can do," he proposes, " please?"

"Okay yeah, a coffee sounds nice," you give in. You helped Spencer because you wanted to not because he'd have to repay it. But if he insists on a coffee, who are you to say no.

"Yeah?" Spencer smiles, hopeful.

"Yeah, Monday morning at our favourite coffee shop."

"Great, I'll see you there." Too excited Spencer doesn't even realise what he's doing, when he quickly kisses your cheek and gets out of your car. Only when he starts to unlock his apartment door, he catches up. He freezes in terror because of what he just did.

You aren't acting too differently from him. You sit frozen in your car with a stupid smile on your face. You didn't mind the kiss one bit, but it made the already big feelings for him even worse.

It's save to say, that both of you didn't expect that and you think about it for the rest of the day, hell for the rest of the week.

The team should have expected it. You should have expected it. It was clear, that you resembled the unsub's type. Same hair, same eyes, same figure and around the same age as well. You didn't think too much of it. But you should have.

Or at least you should have been more careful.

You shouldn't have gone to the shop so late, when it was already dark outside and you shouldn't have gone alone. You should have asked Spencer or somebody to go with you. This stupid mistake got you kidnapped.

You are now god knows where. You are gueasing, that it's some kind of barn. But you aren't sure, there isn't too much light coming through the wooden desks, just enough to see whether it's a day or a night. And you can't exactly go look around, when your hands are zipp tied to a metal poll.

You aren't sure what time it is, the guy comes to check in on you unfrequently, so you can't even half- guess the time.

You know, you have around 2 days to live, based on what you know about the other victims. But it could be less, especially since you are the FBI.

You are more worried about your injuries, tho. Of course, he hurt you and not lightly. You've definitely lost a lot of blood. You are still bleeding pretty badly from your thigh, he stabbed you there with a sick pleased grin.

But you are not going to give him the satisfaction of breaking you down, never. You are just waiting for the right moment. You think you have enough energy left in you to break out of the zip tie and try to get far enough from him. So you wait until it gets dark outside again, even monsters can't stay up all the time.

The team on the other hand is nonstop looking for you. Spencer was the one who discovered you were missing and since then he hasn't even had one thought about anything else other than finding you.

Hotch's ordered everybody an hour long break, but Spencer doesn't want or need a break, he needs to find you.

"Spencer, come on we're taking a break," Derek says, him and Spencer are alone in the room, everyone else went to the local policy's cafeteria already.

"No, thanks. I'm fine to continue," Spencer says shortly.

"Don't be stupid, you need to-"

"What I need is to find y/n." Spencer cuts him off, raising his voice a little.

"Look Spencer, i understand. I want to find her as much as you do, but we won't be able to do that, if we can't even think clearly from the exhaustion," Derek tells him calmly, he knows how much Spencer cares about you, like more than a friend, so he gets his frustration.

"No, you don't understand," he argues," I-I can't loose her, I can't. We'd tried this before and she- I can't.....not.....-not again," he quaveres, putting his head into his hands. He'd gone through this situation once before and he's not doing the same mistake again. Especially with you, with you it feels somehow even worse.

"You won't," Derek insists, " listen to me Soencer. We will find and we will save her and when we do that, you will finally tell her how you feel."

"Now get up, we're getting some food into you and then we save y/n," he doesn't really give him a choice this time and pushes him towards the door. Spencer goes, but his mind is on you and the case the entire time.

It's much later, when the team has a breathrough in the case and Penelope works her magic, and finds a man that fits the unsub's description perfectly. It takes the team only a few seconds, before they are in the car, driving quickly through the night roads to get to you.

You patiently endure the hours 'till it gets dark outside. And when it does and you are sure, he's not coming back anymore, you yank your hands hard. You do it multiple times, hands bleeding and you get it snapped.

You waste no time from there, you get up on your legs, which appears to be much harder than you thought. You probably underestimated how much blood you've lost, because with every step you take you feel like passing out. But you push through it, you open the door, look around and when you think, that everything is clear, you take off.

You, unfortunately, don't get too far. A set of headlights appears in your vision, so you hide behind the first decent thing you see. You are still quiet close to the barn. You don't know if it's the unsub or somebody else, but you take no chances with whoever it is. You stay hidden and quickly look for something to protect yourself with, you find a big enough rock and decide, that it's good improvisation for a weapon.

You close your eyes, trying to will the dizziness away and in the meanwhile you completely miss, that it's actually 2 cars and not one.

What gets you to open your eyes again is a sound of gunshots and a lot of shouting. You think, you hear a familiar voices, but you stay hidden, not wanting to risk anything.

"Did you find her?" Hotch asks. Him, Spencer and Rossi searched the house and everybody else the barn.

"She's not there, " Derek replies.

"What? She has to be here, she has to" Spencer says desperately. He can't have gotten this far, just to not find you.

"But we found a broken zip tie and a pretty large puddle of blood," Derek sighs. Everybody's worry increases after hearing that.

"Yeah, it looks fresh, if it's y/n's she can't be far," JJ adds.

"Wait, you said, there's a big puddle of blood. How can we even know she's alive?" Spencer says upset. He isn't far from losing his mind.

"Spencer-"

"No, i-i.... how can we fucking find her here? This property is like 15,5 hectares. And we can't even know if he has done anything to her, because he's dead. We could be searching whole night and she will bleed out by then, well if she is even still alive. So how? How?!" Spencer knows, that it's nobody's fault, but his frustration is getting the best of him.

"We'll get the dogs, they will find her quickly-" All this intense arguing makes you curious, so you start to listen closely. At first, you think, that it's the guy talking, but the more you listen, you realise it's not him. You know that voice, it's your Spencer, it's your team. They are here, they have found you.

"Spence?" It's so quiet that Spencer almost misses it, but he's so alert right now, that he couldn't miss it even if he'd tried.

His head immediately snaps in your direction and he swears, he could cry, when he sees you there.

You call out his name again, this time in such a relief, but taking 2 steps towards him, you collapse. The blood loss finally got to you. You see Spencer sprint to you, with the team on his heels and then everything goes black.

You end up unconscious in the hospital for 2 days. You've lost too much blood and when the doctor started to name all your injuries, Spencer actually had to walk out of the room before he could have gotten sick.

He's stayed with you almost all 2 days, except when JJ kicked him out, saying he needs a shower and some sleep. But besides that, he's stayed by your side the whole time. He read you books, fluffed your pillows, just did everything he could to make sure you were comfortable.

He's sitting next to your bed, reading, when you wake up. Spencer notices you waking up, because his hand is holding yours and he feels it move.

"Hey hey hey, " he greets you softly as you open your eyes.

You blink, baffled at him and try to sit up. He carefully pushes you back, which you protest against, "wha-"

"Don't move sweetheart, yeah?" he pushes a few fallen strands away from your eyes and adds,"I'm going to get a doctor, I'll be right back, I promise." And with that he's gone.

He comes back after the doctor does all of the checks to make sure you are okay. He sits in the chair again and unconsciously takes your hand in his again as he tells you everything that happened.

You give him a small smile and with a raspy voice, you tell him," Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving me, i-i knew, you'd come," there wasn't a single moment, where you thought he wouldn't.

"You don't even know how worried I was. I-I thought, I had lost you," he fretted.

"I'm sorry," you apologise sadly, you stupid mistake, made everyone so worried.

"None of that, it's not your fault. I'm just happy you're okay, we all are. I called Penelope, they are on their way here," Spencer states and then there's a silence between you two. But by looking at Spencer, you know he wants to say something else, he's got a look, that you know well. It's the look he has, when he wants to tell you about something interesting, but doesn't want to bore you with his rambling.

"What is it?"

"Nothing..." it's definitely not nothing.

"Come on, spill it," you chuckle, but his serious face makes your smile drop, "what? Did something bad happen?"

"I-I-I just....-fuck, this is harder then i thought it would be" he mumbles. "I love you, y/n. I've been in love with you since the day you looked my way and it only got worse and worse with every smile or a laugh or a conversation or when you took care of me," Spencer blurts all this out.

"I cannot keep this secret any longer, because it's killing. It's killing me that I can't call you mine and that-that I can't protect you all the time, because I want to. So badly."

" i knkw this a lot, especially now. But you don't have to say anything. I totally understand if the feelings aren't mutual-"

"-Spencer,"you interrupt him, but he doesn't seem to realise it.

"I just had to tell you this, because I'd never forgive myself if I hadn't told you. I'm sor-"

"Spencer!" You cut him off, this time more louder. He looks at you like a lost puppy, just waiting for whatever words of rejection, you'll tell him.

But those words never come," just kiss me already," you huff (affectionately).

He's never wanted anything else more, but he doesn't want to hurt you, " i want to, i really want to, but your injuries.....I don't want to hurt you."

"Spence, just kiss me," you are embarrassingly close to begging at this point, but Spencer fortunately doesn't let that happen.

He very very cautiously leans in and kisses you. And you eagerly kiss him back and not so tentatively pull him closer to you. Your whole body feels like it's on fire, but you ignore it, there's only one thing on your mind and that's how nice it finally feels to be kissed by Spencer and how soft his lips are.

You pull apart after a few seconds and there's this stupid grin on both of your faces.

"Does this mean you also-"

"Oh god, Spence," you laugh at him," of course, I'm in love with you. How could I not be? You're so smart, so kind, so honest, so mindful and so caring. It's honestly impossible not to fall for you."

"Oh, good," he bashfully replies, " otherwise this would have been awkward," he jokes.

"You're such an idiot, come here," you pull him by his sweater for another kiss, happy to finally be able to do that.

Hi lovelies, thank you so much for reading. Please let me know whst you think. Feedback is always up.

Have a great day 🌻

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

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absurdthirst · 6 months

Text

High Infidelity {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.1k

Warnings: Cheating, fraud, mentions of divorce, payback, forced cuckolding, restraints, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex

Comments: When you find out that your husband is banging the neighbor's wife, you and the neighbor decide to make them pay.

Co-written with @pedropascalsx

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The moment was bittersweet, finding out that your suspicions were correct and that he could no longer gaslight you was a temporary feeling of relief. Quickly replaced with hurt and devastation. He was your childhood sweetheart, your first and only love, and for the better part of a year he has been sleeping with the woman next door.

The same woman whose kids you babysat during the week to let her and her husband have a peaceful date night, the same woman who had sat in your kitchen a few nights earlier with a group a mutual friends and drank your wine, the same woman who had held your hand and reassured you the night that you found out your husband wasn’t able to have children.

Rewatching the footage of them kissing as they entered the bedroom you shared, him ripping off her dress as she unbuttoned his shirt made your heart lurch. Never would you have imagined it was with Carol York.

The signs he was cheating were there from day one; being overprotective of his phone, working late, charges on your joint account that just weren’t adding up and then the biggest cliche of all; lipstick on his collar.

The urge to confront him was bubbling up in your stomach, and then you thought about Dave… Did he know? Did he suspect anything? Should you tell him?

After going back and forth a few times you had settled on yes, he deserves to know. So you pick up your laptop, and slide in under your arm. Ready to go next door and tell him everything.

****

Rolling his eyes after the doorbell peels, Dave sighs and stands up from the kitchen table. His laptop open and report that was making his head throb was never fun but distractions just makes it harder to get back to work. Especially since the house is actually quiet with the girls at school and Carol at work. Moving towards the door, he opens it to find you, his next door neighbor waiting. He hums your name in surprise and wonders if something is wrong. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply with a weak smile, “I’m really sorry to interrupt whatever it is that you’re doing, but we need to talk.”

“Everything alright?” Your face is filled with concern and he’s immediately on guard, eyes sliding behind you and not seeing anything that would have him reaching for the pistol kept in the entryway table.

“Honestly, no,” you admit with an uncomfortable laugh, “Can I come in? I don’t think it’s something I should tell you standing at your door.”

Frowning, Dave stands back and lets you in the house. He normally doesn’t like having someone - especially female - at the house when Carol isn’t here. Busybodies talk and he hates that kind of shit. “What’s going on?” He asks as he closes the door.

“Thank you,” you say as you walk into the kitchen and settle your laptop on the counter. “Look, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know, and I’ve bought this here as evidence. I don’t have to show you it but I thought bringing proof was the best way to handle it... Carol and Tommy are having an affair.”

The first instinct he has is to deny it. To question why you are telling him something that he knows isn’t true, but he doesn’t. There’ve been times where something doesn’t sit right with Dave. Carol’s ease of assuring him that Tommy will handle something while he’s out of town. “What evidence?” He demands, knowing the best thing is to hear you out. If it’s flimsy, he can start watching his wife’s actions. If it’s concrete proof, he will know.

“It’s a video,” you say as you open your laptop, “I’ve been suspicious for a while, and then I found underwear that definitely doesn’t belong to me. So I bought a nanny cam. Are you sure you want to see this?”

“Shit.” Dave hisses but he nods. “Show me.” He demands, hating how his stomach is curling at the thought. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about other women, but he hadn’t touched one.

You nod a few times before moving the laptop to face him, pressing play on a scene that makes you feel violently sick. “I’m so sorry, Dave. Never in a million years did I expect it to be with your wife… my friend.”

Dave’s brows pull together, jaw tightening in anger as he watches, listens to the scene in front of him. There’s zero doubt that is his wife, bouncing on another guy's dick. He doesn’t even realize his hands clenched in anger as he watches, furious at the betrayal.

Seeing the fury and the obvious hurt on his face, you decide to pause the video and close down the laptop. He doesn’t need to see anymore and neither do you. “As soon as he gets home today, I'm making him leave. He can go back to his mothers.”

Dave huffs, nearly glaring at you. “Show me the rest of it.” He demands.

You push the laptop over at him, and shake your head, “Fine, but I don’t want to see anymore.”

Nodding, he watches as you log back in and he pushes play. Glancing at you when you winch, hearing the moans and the breathless conversation as they fuck on what he assumes is your bed. “Fucking assholes.”

“She’s faking it,” you scoff, as the moans get more animated. “The man couldn’t give a woman an orgasm if his life depended on it.”

He snorts and it’s on the tip of his tongue to ask why the fuck you stayed with him then. “Don’t kick him out.” Dave decides seriously.

“What?” You say with a raised eyebrow, before both of your attention is immediately drawn back to them. Laying in their ‘post coital glow.’

“God, I swear she gets dumber every day,” your husband says with a laugh, “All I’ve got to do is pay her five minutes of attention and the stupid bitch thinks everything is fine. Doesn’t even realize that my lawyer has pretty much voided the prenuptial agreement. I’ll hand her the form to sign and just like the dutiful wife she is, she’ll be signing half her money over to me without as much of a second glance.”

“Dave makes good money, but he’s so fucking boring. He wants to ‘save for a rainy day’.” Carol hums. “But he doesn’t ever spend time with just me. He always wants the girls around. I’m tired of being a perfect mother. I honestly didn’t want Molly. But Dave had to try for his boy.” She snorts. “Too much of a pussy to give me a boy, I guess.”

Dave growls, pissed at the way she is talking about their daughter. He doesn’t give a shit about what she says about him. “She’s the fucking one who decided to take out her fucking birth control.”

“It’s been about a year,” you say to Dave, “Well, that’s when I started having suspicions. Always working late on a Thursday night, and unexplained charges on our joint account. I’ve let him walk over me for a year.” Tears start to well up in your eyes, and embarrassment floods through you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t fucking cheat.” Dave scoffs. “Don’t be sorry.” He shakes his head, “don’t kick him out. Don’t show him that you know.” He advises, the gears in his mind already turning. “Get a lawyer, start moving your money around so he can’t take it.”

“Okay,” you say with a deep breath, “I have an account that he doesn’t have access to. Fuck. I’m so stupid. I knew he was cheating, I just let him gaslight me over and over.”

“You didn’t want to believe it.” Luckily you and the fucker don’t have kids, and he would just fucking kill them both, but the girls would miss their mother. He narrows his eyes at the screen. “Get a lock box, or safety deposit box for all your paperwork. will, social security cards, jewelry. Lock them up. Start removing him from shit. Access to the cell phone plan to make changes. Utilities, whatever you have jointly, unless it’s something he uses everyday.”

“I, uh, I should write this down,” you say, nodding your head, “Dave… Thursday nights… Was she here? There were nights where he came home the next morning after claiming he slept in the office.”

He shakes his head, huffing to himself. “She had ‘book club’.” He gives air quotes. “And since they supposedly always got so hammered, she would stay there.” He had thought it was stupid, but he had also felt like his wife deserved a night out, away from the kids.

“Fuck.” Shaking your head, “I’m going to go home. Start the things you’ve suggested. I’m really sorry again, Dave. I just felt you deserved to know.”

“Thank you for telling me.” His own situation is slightly more difficult, often the agency will put people on desk duty when finding out they are divorcing and he doesn’t want that. “Let me know if they make more videos. I’m going to install a camera here too.”

“Write down your email address and I'll send you that video. I guess we will have to work out a way to approach this together.”

Dave nods and reaches for the pad he keeps next to the home phone. Ripping off a sheet and writing his private email down, along with his phone number. “I’ll think of some way to make these fuckers sorry.” He promises, handing it to you. “I’m going to be finding out the toughest lawyer in the business. I’ll let you know their names.”

“Thank you, Dave,” you say as you feel your reserve slipping, the urge to cry coming back in full force. “Let’s make them pay.”

He nods, watching as you pick up your laptop. “Call me if you feel like you’re going to tell him you know.” He asks, knowing that he would tell Carol and then Dave would have to figure out a plan b.

“Will do.” The second you’re back inside, you start the tasks he gave you. Starting with gathering up all your important documents and putting them in a temporary safe space and then ordering a safe. You wonder how long Dave’s plan will take and hope it won’t be too long, the idea of sharing a bed with your husband makes your skin crawl.

****

Thursday’s have become sort of a check in day. You normally end up coming over and spending the evening with Dave and the girls. Sometimes having dinner and then staying once the girls had gone to bed. Tonight is another check in and Dave pours you a glass of wine. “How are you holding up?” He asks quietly.

“Better,” you admit with a smile, “Everything except the joint account is handled. Just ready to move on with my life and hopefully meet someone who actually cares about me. How about you?”

“Most everything was in my name anyway.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “She can’t touch the house since I bought it with my VA and I’m going for custody. I might have to pay her out, but whatever.”

“I guess him being infertile ended up working in my favor,” you say sadly, “I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because he said that it was embarrassing, but I own the house. My Dad left me an inheritance and I was fortunate enough to buy it outright with it. I’m going to miss living here.”

“Why are you going to move?” Dave asks. “If you own the house and bought it with your inheritance, it’s yours.”

“I always imagined filling it with kids,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t want to be in a big house that’ll remind me just how alone I am.”

He frowns slightly, even as he voices his next thought. “You could always bring in another guy.” He reminds you. “Find love and fill it with kids.”

“I guess.” The sadness is evident in your voice, so you change the subject, “So are you any closer to coming up with a plan?”

Dave chuckles and glances up just as there is a loud thump upstairs. “After the girls are asleep.” He promises, knowing little ears don’t need to hear his plan.

“Sounds like you have something figured out,” you say before taking a sip of your wine.

“Do you want to humiliate them?” Dave asks with a small smirk. “And get revenge?”

“Yes,” you answer with a smile, “I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.”

“Then I’ll tell you about my plan in twenty minutes.” He promises and nods to your wine.

“So drink up, you’re gonna need it.”

Wordlessly you nod and take another large sip of your wine, desperate to hear his plan.

The two of you dance around the subject, talking about things in the news, events happening in town and Dave enjoys it. He’s come to enjoy talking to you and spending time in your company. Your husband is an idiot to throw over someone who is funny and nice, actually pays attention to the world around her - he doesn’t deserve you. When Dave’s self appointed time is up, he sets down his own wine glass and leans in close. “We should sleep together.” He announces.

“What?” You say with a giggle, convinced you’d misheard him. You had thought about it, fuck the last few times you’ve slept with your husband you’d found yourself imagining it was Dave, circling your clit with such intensity that you came harder than ever before. “I mean… Fuck, I want to. But wouldn’t that make us just as bad?”

“Not if we fuck in front of them.” Dave chuckles, smirking slightly because of your admission of want. “As a sort of goodbye gift to them.”

“Oh,” you say, thinking about the look of Tommy’s face as Dave fucks you. Tommy paraded you around like a trophy, having no issues embarrassing you by announcing to anyone and everyone that you lost your virginity to him and he’d be the only man to have been inside of you. Like you were his possession. “I like it. But I have one condition…. and you might find it a little weird.”

“What’s that?” Dave tilts his head and looks at you curiously. It’s not unusual to have conditions and he would be surprised if you didn’t.

“I want you to cum inside of me.” You say after taking a deep breath, “I’ll buy Plan B in preparation and you can watch me take it. But I need for him to see that it’s really over, and despite what he thinks… he doesn’t own me.”

Dave frowns and then he remembers the first Christmas party after you had moved into the neighborhood. Tommy had been shit housed and bragging about how his was the only ever cum you’ve had. He had marked you good and proper. Dave hums, his lips curling up wickedly. “Done.”

“Thank you.” It feels oddly liberating to think about. “I don’t think we should do it in the houses though… Maybe book a hotel. Request adjoining rooms and keep everything a surprise. Blindfolds and gags. Only reveal to them what’s happening after they’re strapped to some shitty hotel chair unable to move.”

He raises a brow and smirks at how quickly you came up with something that is so feasible. “Noise canceling headphones.” Dave adds, nodding. “So they can’t hear us opening the door and whatever, not until we are ready.”

“Perfect. I want them to suffer. And I know that’s awful to say out loud but the way they spoke about us… fuck.” You shake your head and laugh, “You know that he doesn’t pay for a single bill in our house. Works part time and the entirety of his paychecks go on his stupid hobbies… Golfing or gaming. I put money into our joint account each month and he just… Fuck. He gets nothing.”

“You have a prenup, and a clause for cheating.” Dave smirks and chuckles. “Carol’s gonna get something, but it won’t be enough for her liking.”

“I can’t wait to see the look on his face as you fuck me.” You say with a chuckle, before finishing up your wine. “What’s your favorite color?”

Dave grins and imagines you in his favorite color. “Green.” He hums. “Dark green.”

“Dark green it is,” you say with a wink. “When do you wanna do this?”

“I say we wait and do it when the lawyers finish the divorce papers.” Dave suggests. “We pack their shit that day and load it into a storage unit, change our locks and codes, fuck in front of them, drop the keys and the papers and shoot them the bird on the way out the door.”

“That sounds perfect. I know this sounds weird to say, but I'm kind of grateful he cheated. I would have spent forever living in his shadow and the past few weeks I’ve really started to realize that he doesn’t deserve me.” You say, with your first genuine smile in weeks. “Also I get to fuck my sexy neighbour in revenge.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Dave’s brows wing up and he’s flattered by the compliment. It’s been a long time since someone’s said that. The marriage had hit rocky patches before but never like this and he sees now that she’s been disengaging for a while.

“I have eyes, Dave,” you say with a giggle, “Every woman on this block stops and stares when you walk past. Those shoulders… Fuck. Those lips.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Dave huffs, rolling his eyes even if he secretly likes the compliment.

“Oh please,” you say, “Like you haven’t noticed the staring. Honestly, I’ve thought of you whilst using my wand,” you admit with a shrug, “After seeing you mowing the lawn shirtless.”

He smirks and leans back. “Might do that on purpose.” He admits with a shrug. “Tanning and all.”

“Well thank you for the show,” you giggle. “God, I can’t believe she cheated on you with him. I know he’s my husband but I had the excuse of him being my high school sweetheart. We’ve been together for years and he’s never made me cum once.”

“Bullshit.” Dave snorts and shakes his head. “Not even once? By accident?” He asks, nearly amazed by how fucking horrible that is.

“Never. He doesn’t do foreplay, and he’s never found that spot inside of me,” you shrug, “Usually I let him do his thing so I can roll over and sleep, occasionally I’ll rub my clit just to distract myself.”

“He doesn’t eat your pussy?” Dave’s eyes widen in shock and disgust. He understands that not all women cum from sex, he had a girlfriend before Carol who could not cum from penetration but he damn sure made her cum on his tongue.

“Nope. Never. He’s never even tried it, says the idea of it makes him ‘queasy’.” Looking over at him and seeing the look of surprise on his face makes you chuckle, “Guess I didn’t pick a good one.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what a moron.” He shakes his head and his opinion of Tommy drops even lower than before and he didn’t think that was possible. “What a ….fuck, a pussy.”

“Nah. A pussy is useful,” you correct him, “I should get back. I’m super tired and he hasn’t texted saying it’s a ‘late one’ tonight so I figure they’ll be home soon. I will be counting down the seconds until the lawyers are done with the paperwork.”

“I would offer to show you what a real man does with his mouth, but I’ll wait to give him a ‘lesson’.” Dave hums, standing up and offering you a hand to get up off the couch.

“Oh, yeah? You going to eat my little pussy in front of him?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. You take his hand and let him help you up.

“Fuck yes.” Dave smirks. “If he finds it repulsive, I also wanna remind Carol what she’s missing. She fucking loved when I would go down on her.”

You hum happily, “I can’t wait to feel those lips on me.” Leaning forward you place a small kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for tonight. I really enjoy spending time with you and your gorgeous girls. I’ll be waiting impatiently for the paperwork to be completed. Goodnight, Dave.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” Dave walks you to the door and opens it for you. “As soon as it’s in, we’ll make sure they regret cheating on us.”

“Yes we will,” you agree with a smile, before walking back over to your house. Creeping upstairs and getting into the shower. Letting yourself get lost in imagining the feeling of Dave’s hands all over you, his mouth on your cunt and his cock buried inside of you. Your fingertips work your bundle of nerves as quickly as they can and you cum with a soft moan of his name. Climbing out of the shower you get dried, fix your hair and get into your pajamas. Wanting to be asleep or at least pretending to be when Tommy finally crawls in beside you.

****

“I got my papers.” Dave risks a call, knowing Carol isn’t checking the phone bill and calling you as soon as he steps out from his lawyers office. They don’t approve of his idea, but he also wasn’t told he couldn't do it. Just that he shouldn’t and he doesn’t agree with that.

“Me too,” you say gleefully down the phone. “You want to do it this weekend?”

“I’m thinking so.” Dave grins at the glee in your voice. “How do we want to lure them to the hotel?”

“I’m thinking we both book a room - request they’re adjoining, and once they’re both blindfolded, gagged and wearing headphones, we unlock the door and I'll lead Tommy into your room?”

“That works.” Dave agrees. “I’ll tell Carol I want to put some spice back in our marriage.”

“I’ll tell Tommy I have a surprise planned. I’ll go ahead and call and book the hotel.. and then I have some shopping to do… Dark green right?”

“Dark green.” He hums. “I’m going to enjoy ripping it off of you.” He admits, voice dropping.

“Keep playing with my pussy to the thought of it,” you whisper into your phone. “Only a few days to go.”

“I’ll book the rooms together but put one under your name.” Dave tells you, knowing that he will be able to convince them of it.

“Perfect. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Start making noises to your husband about getting away. Doing something romantic this weekend. I’m going to ‘surprise’ Carol.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to see the look on both of their faces. I’ll text you tonight, once I've told him about the surprise.”

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, you pop into Victoria’s secret and spot the perfect set and make your way home. Large glass of wine poured, you sip it generously as you listen to his footsteps approaching the door.

“Good day at work?” You call out from the kitchen with a roll of your eyes.

“Long,” Tommy groans before reaching over and helping himself to your wine, “Tomorrow is going to be longer.”

“Oh. I really hope they’re going to start paying you for those long Thursday nights. Sometimes you don’t even make it home. It’s not good for you sleeping on your office floor,” you say with the most sympathetic smile you can force. “Anyway, I have a plan for Saturday night that’ll make it all better. A surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He says with a raised eyebrow and a curl of his lips, “What kind of surprise?”

“All will be revealed,” you say as you turn to him with a small kiss on his cheek, “A surprise that involved me spending a huge amount of money in Victoria’s secret for someone.” You leave him standing in the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face as you begin to climb the stairs with the rest of the wine and a new glass, “Dinner is ordered, i’m going for a bath.”

Dinner passes with its normal antics from the kids and Dave watches Carol. Nothing about her demeanor says that she’s cheating but he’s found the credit card she’s using to pay for it. It’s a secret one that she opened in his name. Not only is she renting hotel rooms, but she’s doing it on his fucking credit. It’s malicious irony that Dave booked the rooms at the same hotel that her and Tommy frequent.

Avoiding him for the rest of the evening, you have a long hot soak in the bath and only retreat back downstairs to grab your dinner and a drink. Spending the rest of the evening in bed watching netflix whilst he watches TV downstairs.

You decide to shoot Dave a quick text to let him know you’ve told Tommy about the surprise, and check you’re still on for to meet up and go over the plan the next evening.

‘Hey. Told him that I’ve booked a special surprise, and he ate it up. He’s told me he’s “working late” tomorrow, so I can pop around and we can go over things?’

Dave hums as his phone buzzes, Carol engrossed in her show so he slides his phone out and grins. His own reply comes quickly. ‘Sure. Now I wonder if Carol will be told about your plans this weekend? Ever wonder if he tells her that you two still have sex?’

You huff and type back. ‘We’ve had sex twice in the past two months, so I’m pretty sure if he’s saying anything, it’s about my lack of interest in the cheating bastard. Only fucked him so he would stop questioning why I was being distant. I doubt he’ll say anything though. The last video of them cheating he spent most of it, reassuring her that he doesn’t love me and never did. Do you think she’ll tell him about your ‘plans’?’

Dave snorts. ‘Haven’t told her. Plan on doing it at the last minute and making it seem like a romantic gesture.’

‘Good idea. I can’t wait till he is out of my house. Out of my life.’

‘Won’t be long. Just don’t kill him over the next few days.’ Dave chuckles to himself and when Carol looks up, he points to the tv. “They are so stupid it’s funny.” He explains, putting his phone away.

‘I’ll try.’ You reply before settling down for the night, wanting to be fasting asleep before Tommy gets upstairs.

****

The next day Tommy is ‘working late’ and Carol has a suspiciously timed meeting that runs over. Making Dave shake his head at how stupidly brazen they are getting. Still, he looks out the window and sees you walking over about an hour after he gets home with the kids.

You knock the door, dessert in hand as Alice whips open the door and immediately informs you that she and Molly are going to eat pizza in her room and watch a movie as you chat to Daddy.

Dave chuckles as you walk in. “The girls are getting spoiled.” He hums. “And so am I.”

“You have no idea,” you say with a wink, “I hear it’s pizza tonight? Sounds perfect.”

“Yeah, Carol had a “meeting”.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Strange, right?”

“Who’d have thought?” You giggle, “Well-,” you say as you pick up the glass of wine he’d poured for you, “Here’s to the last time they lie to us.”

“Are you ready for it?” He asks quietly, picking up his own glass. “For the big reveal?”

“I am counting down the seconds.” You say with a smile. “God, I hope they realize we aren’t to be fucked with.”

“I think they will figure that out when they don’t walk away with the pot of gold like they were expecting.” Dave snorts.

“I just can’t wait to see his face when he realizes that I'm not his trophy anymore.” The doorbell rings and Dave goes to get the pizza as you pour the girls out their juice, ready to take it upstairs to them for their movie night.

“Girls!” The two girls thunder downstairs to grab their cheese pizza and disappear just as quickly, each one fighting over who was going to sing the first song. Dave shakes his head and looks at you with a faux harried expression. “They are going to be trouble later on.” He predicts with a groan.

“I’m sure you can handle it, they worship their Daddy.” You say before topping up your glasses, “I’m going to miss this.”

“Why are you going to miss it?” Dave asks, frowning slightly.

“It’s been nice. Coming around and eating with you and the girls, the highlight of my week. They’re both absolutely adorable.”

“You can still come over anytime.” He offers. “If you aren’t out on dates, you know.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk.

“Me? Dating? Unlikely. But I’d still love to come over. I mean it when I say it’s the highlight of my week.” You take a small sip and try to ignore the way he makes you feel, the past few weeks you had grown closer to Dave and started to really appreciate how good of a man he is.

“Shit.” Dave snorts. “You’ll be dating before the fucking ink is dry.” He predicts. “You’re beautiful, kind, funny and smart. And I bet you are killer in the sack. He’s an idiot.” He tells you, talking about your stupid soon-to-be-ex.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask quietly. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented me. And the killer in the sack? Well I guess you don’t have long to find out.”

“I can’t wait to find out.” Dave admits quietly. “And you should be getting compliments all the time.”

“As should you. You’re remarkable. The best daddy ever, you work so hard and it’s appreciated, Dave.” You say before squeezing his hand, “And I’m excited to show you just how appreciated you are.”

“Is that what it’s going to be?” Dave asks, grinning slightly. “A show of appreciation?”

“If that’s what you want,” you tease, “Going to suck your cock. Just the thought of it makes me so wet.”

“Jesus.” His eyes widen, surprised you even said that out loud. He’s thought about it plenty, but apparently so have you. “Then we’ll have to do a sixty-nine. Because I’m gonna give your dumbass husband a lesson on how to make a woman squeal his name.”

“Fuck, that sounds perfect. But also to start I want to look into your eyes as I'm sucking your cock. Feel you fuck my mouth,” you whisper quietly.

“Have you ever done that before?” Dave asks, raising a brow and trying not to spring a boner at the thought of you letting him face fuck you.

“Nope,” you admit quietly. “Tommy had me blow him for a bit pretty much every time we had sex. But it was tame.”

“Bet he likes you to ‘look pretty’ while his dick is in your mouth.” Dave scoffs. “When your mascara should be running and the split is soaking your chin.”

“He just wants to get off. Fuck. I want that.”

Dave has been careful not to touch you. Not willing to put himself in the same level as Carol. He still won’t fuck you but he does reach out, talking ahold if your chin and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Then we’re going to enjoy it. You’re going to enjoy it.”

You reach out and squeeze his hand again, before taking another sip of your wine and a bite of your pizza. This time in 48 hours it’ll be the beginning of the new end, and the start of something new and exciting.

****

The day of, Dave walks up to Carol at the kitchen sink and wraps his arms around her. Imagining choking her, he forced himself to kiss her neck. “I arranged for the girls to have a sleepover tonight.” He hums, pressing himself up against her and imagining fucking you so he gets hard. “Booked us a hotel room.”

“Oh?” Carol squeals with excitement, “Which one? What’s the plan?” Pushing herself against him a little harder. One thing about Carol York is that she’ll never say no to a surprise.

Dave names the hotel and pretends not to notice the split second of his wife freezing in his arms. He knows she panics and the moment she relaxes, making him hum. “Figured it’s been awhile since we had a night to ourselves.”

“That sounds lovely, darling,” she says, “But I don’t want you wasting your money on me. We can just have a quiet night in.”

“Travel points.” Dave lies easily, knowing that she doesn’t want to go back to the same hotel where she’s been visiting every week. “Already booked and waiting on us. Already checked in.”

“Sounds great,” she lies, hoping the weekend staff aren’t the same as the ones during the week.

****

“You excited for tonight, honey?” You ask Tommy, who’s wolfing down his breakfast.

“Can't wait to see what you spent a fortune on in Victoria’s Secret, I think I’m due a sneak preview, just to get me through the day.” He says with a wink.

“No previews. The someone I bought this for will absolutely love it. I assure you.” You say as you go upstairs to pack you ‘both’ an overnight bag.

Dave manages to talk Carol into packing a bag, hustling her out of the house and into the car without much fuss. The girls have already been deposited at their friends house and as soon as she and Dave leave, a team of professional movers will be coming and boxing up everything Dave discreetly tagged to move into the storage unit he had rented.

You stick to the plan and wait for the text from Dave telling you they’re about to check in before you leave. Not wanting any awkward run-ins at reception. “Hey honey, I forgot to fill up my car, mind if I drive yours?” You ask innocently. Knowing that Dave had arranged for the movers to come to yours after they’ve collected Carol's stuff, and taking his car meant he’d have no reason to come back to your house.

Huffing, Tommy rolls his eyes, desperately thinking if he had left any evidence of Carol being in the car. “You’re lucky I make sure that my car is filled up all the time.” He lectures. “You need to take care of those things.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you say with a fake pout, “Had a lot on my mind.” You take the car keys from him and load up the car, seconds after the go ahead text from Dave. He huffs again as he enters the passenger side and starts droning on about how ‘he needs to know’ where you’re both staying that night.

“You’ll know soon enough, baby,” you placate with a squeeze of his knee, “Heard great things about this place.”

The plan was for Dave to unlock the adjoining door on his side when Carol was in the bathroom but leave it shut so she wouldn’t know, and you were to do the same when you got into the room.

“You won’t tell me where we are going and you won't let me see the lingerie.” He grumbles. “I thought you were spoiling me.”

“Like I said you’ll see soon enough,” you smile, “We’re not too far from where we are staying.”

Tommy shifts uneasily as he watches his normal hotel come into view. “Here honey?” He makes it sound like that’s a horrible idea. “I’ve heard this place is a dump.”

“Oh no,” you say with a shake of your head, “It’s a five star hotel, honey, cost me a fortune but tonight will be worth it.” You say with a wink, come on, let’s get checked in. “Maybe we can order room service.”

Tommy plasters on a fake smile and chuckles. Praying that no one recognizes him. It would ruin his plan.

You notice how antsy he is as you check in and it makes you grin and shake your head. He cowers behind you at the check in desk and stares at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with anyone and practically running towards the elevator once you’ve got your keycard.

‘Here.’ You text Dave in the elevator, pretending to text your mom. “God this hotel is gorgeous, I can’t wait to see our room.”

“Maybe we can just stay in our room all night.” Tommy manages, reaching out and snagging your waist. “Lock the world away.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” you assure him, “The plans I have for tonight, don’t involve you going anywhere.”

He’s relieved, planning on hiding in the bathroom when you decide to order room service. He can’t let anyone let you know about his plans, he’s not ready yet. Still needing access to the deed for the house. He wants to add himself to it so he can take it from you. It’ll be nice rental income, moving in with Carol and renting out that house.

You open the door and take a look around the room, unlocking your side of the adjoining rooms as Tommy has a “first look” around the bathroom. You open your bag and start to take out a few bits, quietly calling him back in the room so Carol can’t hear you shouting his name. “Are you excited for tonight?”

“Depends on if you're going to suck my dick or not.” Tommy grins, thinking that he’s being romantic. The one bad thing about Carol is that she’s not willing to give him head if he doesn’t go down on her. Claiming that you might have understood, but she wasn’t a doormat. He missed someone sucking his dick.

“I promise that there will be some dick in this pretty little mouth tonight,” you tease, before picking up the blindfold and gag you had hidden in your purse, “Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say?”

Tommy’s brows shoot up. “What’s this?” He demands, grinning. “You never want to play.”

“Just thought we’d spice things up a little,” you reply softly, “I can feel you slipping away from me. I read some tips… you don’t want to?”

“No, no.” Tommy’s greedy. You might be boring in bed but you are also the only woman who has only had him. “I want to. I’m just surprised you want to. Sure you don’t want me to blindfold you?”

“Maybe later, but right now I want to do this my way.” Walking over, you untie his tie and motion for him to give you his hands, using the tie to restrain him. Before gagging, blindfolding and putting on his noise canceling headphones.

‘Ready when you are!’ You text Dave after sitting Tommy down on one of the two hotel chairs and lightly restraining him to it.

Lifting off one side of his headphones you whisper into his ears, “Good things come to those who wait.”

Dave hums, deciding that he would lift his own noise canceling headphones off Carol’s ear. She’s already tied up, but not in a chair. “Come on baby, I’m going to guide you.” He coos in her ear. “Trust me.”

You open the adjoining door after hearing Dave open his, and flash him a little smile as he guides Carol to the chair next to Tommys.

“You ready?” You ask him, as he steps back and places his hand on the small of your back.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Dave doesn’t fucking care about them, they made their bed. But if you don’t want to do this, he can pull the plug and just snatch the rug out from under them without ever laying a finger on you.

Rocking up on your tiptoes, you place a fleeting kiss to his lips before nodding. “I’m ready, ready to follow your lead.”

“Do you still want to suck my cock?” Dave asks, reaching up and cupping your cheek.

“Fuck, yes, i’ve been thinking about it all day.”

He hums and pats your cheek lightly, “then strip down. I want you naked on your knees so I can fuck you right away when we get done indulging.”

“You don’t wanna rip this off of me in front of them?” You ask as you unbutton your sundress and let it fall to the floor, revealing the dark green lacy lingerie set you had picked out just for Dave.

“Fuck.” He hisses, cock twitching at seeing his favorite color on your body. “Never mind. Keep it on. I’ll strip.”

“Yes sir,” you say with a giggle, excited to finally feel his hands on you.

Dave strips down quickly, watching Tommy and Carol start to shift restlessly in their chairs. Antsy. He smirks and arches a brow when he shucks his pants and reveals his hard cock. “Sure you want to do this?”

“Holy shit, it’s gorgeous,” you choke out at the sight of his cock, “Fuck yes. You ready to take their blindfolds off?”

“Blindfolds and headphones.” He hums. “Not the gags.”

“Let’s go.” You walk towards Tommy and Dave walks towards Carol. On his signal headphones are removed and then masks. The look on your now ex-husbands face is a sight to behold. Both of them stare at each other in utter bewilderment as you take a step back and take Dave’s hand. “Hello, honey, how are you liking your surprise? Must be nice to see the woman you’ve been fucking for the better part of a year here with us and her husband too.”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head as his face drops into a scowl at the two of them. They are completely frozen and panicked. "It's funny that you think we wouldn't find out." He tells them flatly before he turns to you. "Why don't we show them what it's like to watch your spouse fuck the neighbor?"

“I think we should,” you say with a giggle, as you perch yourself on the end of the bed. “Hurt them, how they hurt us.”

“Maybe they won’t give a shit.” The muffled protests coming from the two seems to disprove that, but Dave just leans in to press his lips to yours softly. It’s the first kiss he’s ever given you. When he pulls back he tells them that before smirking. “I want you on your knees, pretty girl.”

You ignore the sounds coming from that side of the room, and immediately get up and sink down to your knees. Looking up at Dave with your sweetest smile before gently holding on to the base of him, and placing a light kiss on the tip of his cock. The tip bright red and begging for release, you lick the bead of precum that’s gathered at the top and slowly wrap your lips around him. Not used to having something so big in your mouth, you moan at the stretch, taking him in just a few inches and swirling your tongue around him.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at you and cupping your cheek. “Take more of it. I know you can. But don’t choke. I’m going to fuck that pretty throat of yours.”

You do as he instructs as take him further into your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. Slowly bobbing up and down before taking him further, loving the firm grip he has on your face. You can feel yourself getting wetter the deeper you take him, the sounds he makes spurring you on and making you crave more.

“Unlike you two, this is the first time for us.” Dave groans, sliding his hand around to cup the back of your head. “So you get to enjoy the first time I fuck your wife since you’ve been fucking mine.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck as hard as you can as your nose just brushes against the patch of hair at the base. Drowning out the groans of annoyance from Tommy and Carol by moaning happily around him. Tears stream from your eyes as he keeps your head from moving, keeping you still as he feeds you the last inch or so of his cock.

Once Dave feels the back of your throat constrict around him, he pulls his hips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna enjoy this.” He groans, holding your head tights as he snaps his hips forward roughly and buries his cock in your mouth again.

You almost squeal as he fucks into your mouth, groaning in pleasure as you suck around him. Praising you for taking him so well, and telling you how pretty you look with his cock in your needy little mouth.

Both Tommy and Carol are struggling against the ties that bind them in the chairs. Shouting against the gags, but Dave doesn’t even pay them any attention. Focusing on you. “That pretty little pussy is wet, isn’t it?” He huffs. “Can’t wait to taste it. To lick you until you squeal my name.”

Looking up at him through your tear stained eyelashes you nod dutifully, a smile stretching across your already stretched out mouth. Before you resume your focus on his cock, bobbing your head to meet the snap of his hips, chasing more of those groans he floods the room with.

“You should have licked her cunt, Tommy.” Dave growls mockingly. “Now I’m going to and she’s going to realize what she’s been missing being with a piece of shit like you.” He smirks, looking over at his wife as she cries. “Can’t believe you put up with that shit. Especially since you know how good my tongue is.”

You pull off him and stroke his length, you’ve drenched the lacy material from sucking his cock alone and feel yourself flood the fabric further as he talks about eating you out. “Dave,” you say with a breathy moan, as you lick the weeping tip of him, “I need you.”

Smirking, he grabs your hand and helps you up, sliding his hand down between your legs possessively. “Fuck, you’re soaked baby girl.” He growls. “Want to see how much wetter I can get you. Gotta undress you first.” The panties are ripped off, pulling a moan out of you and he chuckles when the expensive green top also rips apart in his hands. The chairs are positioned so that the bed is on full display and he pulls you down onto it with him.

“I wanna show him,” you mumble, “I wanna show him how fucking wet I get when I actually want to suck a cock, I want him to see how you could slide right in with no fucking lube.”

“Shit.” Dave slaps your ass and smirks at the two spouses. “Never really thought about fucking her until we found out you two were cheating.” He admits. “So thank you.”

“Can’t say I didn’t think about Dave,” you admit with a shrug as you shuffle towards Tommy, opening your legs and letting him see your glistening cunt.

"I thought about it." He amends, "but I never considered doing it until now. Because I was fucking married."

“Same,” you shrug, “Shame that the people we married didn’t feel the same.” You shift back up and take his face in your hands, “I want you to do whatever you need to me, baby.”

"Fuck, I want you to sit on my face." Dave coos, reaching down to slide a finger through your folds and grins when you shiver. "Show you how a real man eats pussy."

“Yes sir,” you whisper before kissing him, watching as he lays down on his back and as he motions for you to move up. You lower yourself down slowly, hovering a few inches from his face.

“Fuck.” Dave groans, his cock twitching at the sight and he tilts his head back to look at Tommy. “Don’t know how you didn’t dive into this cunt every chance you got.” He huffs before he grabs your hips and pulls you down onto his tongue.

“Dave,” you yelp, as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Teasing your clit over and over. One of the hands finds purpose in his hair, tangling in his slightly overgrown style as the other grips onto the headboard. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, chasing your high, as a brand new sensation overwhelms you.

He flicks and curls his tongue, showing off for the cheating bastards who are still squirming and huffing through their gags, but also for you. Wanting to make the first time you’ve ever been eaten out memorable for more reasons than just showing up your cheating ex.

You can’t stop panting his name, moaning it over and over as you soak his face. It doesn’t take long until you’re hanging over the edge, seconds from cumming because of another person for the first time in your life. “So close, baby, so close.” You choke out through ragged breaths.

Dave groans, squeezing your hips and encouraging you to cum for him. Eager to taste it and to show your bastard husband that you deserved it.

With a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit, you’re cumming hard, flooding his face with your arousal as he pulls you apart in the most incredible way.

Dave groans and keeps you pressed against him, wanting to have you soak up every bit of your pleasure until you are sobbing his name out loud.

It doesn’t take long until you’re meeting his silent demand, and the yells shimmer down to you whimpering his name. You want to taunt your husband, tell him that’s what it looks like when you cum, but you don’t. You focus on Dave, moving yourself down him slowly and straddling his waist, before leaning back down and whispering the softest ‘thank you’ into his ear.

Smirking slightly, Dave nods. He’s not thinking about Tommy or Carol right now, he’s tuned them out. But he is thinking about you and how fucking wet you are, grinding down on his cock. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, even though you are on top of him.

“Please,” you plead, with a smile. “How do you want me?”

“Do you want to ride me to start out with?” He asks, caressing your hip.

“Can we build up to that?” You say quietly, “You’re huge. It’s going to be a stretch, I’m not used to anything like this.”

“That’s good,” Dave nods, knowing he doesn’t want to hurt you. “Lay down on your side, facing your loving husband.” He smirks, imagining the look on the bastard's face when he slides into you.

“Okay,” you nod, biting back the endearment hanging off the tip of your tongue. You do as he says, looking at your furious husband, feeling a shiver run through. Fearing what he might do once he’s unrestrained.

Dave curls around you, hand sliding up to cup your breast and then down to your thigh. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to touch you.” He promises, whispering in your ear. “I won’t let him lay a finger on you.”

Within seconds of feeling his touch, the fear is replaced with excitement and lust and the need to feel him slip into you. “Fuck me, Dave,” you plead, letting your eyes flicker up to your husband one more time, before letting yourself forget he’s in the room.

He chuckles quietly and lifts your thigh, bringing it back over his hip and opening you up to their view. “I’m going to fuck you. Been thinkin’ about fucking you for weeks. Imagining how tight and hot you’d be.” He kisses along your jaw as he slides closer and shifts to take his cock in his hand.

You let him mold you into the position he wants you, loving the way his hands feel on you. “God, me too. Fuck. Played with my pussy every night dreaming about this.”

The head teases your slit, sliding around and he hums. “Good.” He glances at his crying wife and your angry husband and smirks. “Let me know how it feels, baby.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.

You whimper as he starts to inch into you, the stretch of him feeling delicious. “Feels so good, baby,” you choke out, before placing your hand on top of his and squeezing. “So fucking big.”

“That’s it.” Dave growls, slowly rocking his hips and sinking deeper. “You’re taking it so good, baby. Squeezing my dick like a vice.”

“Fuck,” you moan, as he hits something new inside of you. Something that makes you clamp down hard around him and chant his name like sacred prayer, over and over.

He doesn’t start fucking you like it’s his last day on earth. Not yet anyway. He takes his time. Measured thrusts meant to make you cry out and yet he’s not giving it his all. Changing the pace and force often to keep things stimulated for you and remind Carol what she’s given up.

It’s nothing you’ve ever experienced before, someone chasing their high whilst chasing yours just as hard. With every moan, and flutter he praises you for taking him so well, for soaking his cock and squeezing him so perfectly.

His hands start to wander. Knowing that women love to be worshiped while they are having sex, his hands squeeze and grope adoringly. Forgetting about your audience, he concentrates on the breathless moans and whimpers that come from your throat. Seemingly made more desperate everytime he praises you.

“I think I’m go—,” is all you’re able to get out, before you clamp down around him hard and cum on his cock. Focusing on his sweet praises as you convulse in pleasure, feeling your sheets dampen beneath you as he keeps the same delicious pace throughout your high.

"That's it, fuck that's it, baby girl." Dave moans as he feels you cum all over him. "Soak my cock. Show me how fucking wet your little pussy gets when you cum." He huffs. "You needed this, didn't you? It's been so fucking long since you've really cum, hasn't it?"

“Needed it so bad,” you pant, as you come back down. “Never cum like that before. You want me to ride you now, baby?” You ask, as you pull his hand up to your mouth and gently kiss it.

"Yes." Dave pulls out of you and rolls onto his back, eager to feel you on top of him again. "Ride me, baby girl."

“I love it when you call me baby,” you say, as you straddle his hips and sink down onto him. Taking him inch by inch, until you’re filled with him. Slowly you start to rock your hips, building up to a pace that has him groaning your name. The sound of muffled cries and shouting drowned out both of your pleasure. His thumb finds his clit and he rubs gentle circles into it as you ride him, wanting to feel his cock throb against your tights walls that are fluttering around him.

You don’t bounce on his cock, or slam yourself back. It’s a slow grind that he finds himself grunting every time you circle your hips. He just keeps his eyes on you. Enjoying the way your own close and your head tilts back as you moan.

With every rock of your hips, he notches against paradise. Soft moans slip from your slips, as you chase your high again. Wanting to cum one more time before he does. Needing to feel him as much as you can, for as long as you possibly can.

One hand on your hip, another on your clit, he urges you to cum. “Come on baby, I know you can cum around my cock, again.” He groans, thrusting up into you shallowly. “Want to see it, beautiful.”

You rock your hips a little faster, chasing more friction from this hand on your clit and with a one word command for you to ‘cum’, you’re clamping down around him once more. Pleasure coursing throughout your body as he keeps you from falling forward, and continues to fuck up into you. Praising you for taking him for so well and fitting around him like a glove.

Once you have collapsed into his chest, Dave rolls you over and pushes your legs wider. Grunting as he takes over and his next thrust is hard enough to have you yelling.

“Fuck,” you scream, as he begins a breath stealing pace. “F-fill me up,” you beg, as he pounds in and out of you.

There’s renewed struggling and muffled screaming. Tommy most likely when he hears the plea for Dave to fill you up, but he doesn’t give a shit. Focusing on you and his own mounting pleasure as he fucks you hard and fast.

The sounds that are coming from you are unrecognizable. Brand new. Noises of pure unfiltered pleasure drowning out everything else. “Please,” you choke out, the word pained as another orgasm threatens to devastate your exhausted body. “Please, Dave.”

“Gonna- gonna cum.” He growls, clenching his jaw to push another few thrusts out of his body that screams for release. He knows you’re close again. He can feel it. Needs to see you do it again for his own selfish pride.

With little to no warning, he pulls you back over that edge with him. His thrusts sloppy as you clamp down hard around him, practically screaming his name as you milk him dry of his cum. He grits out a little praise in your ear, before groaning your name and wrapping his arms around you as you sink deeper into the mattress.

Dave groans at the first piercing sound of his name, giving in and pushing deep as he starts to cum. Tightening his hold on you as he groans your name. Rolling his hips as he fills you.

“You feel so good,” you whimper as he paints your walls. You don’t want it to end, you want him to stay buried inside your desperate cunt forever. You can’t pretend that the past few weeks you haven’t been falling for him, and now being wrapped in his arms, you’re well and truly screwed. Literally.

“So good, baby. Fuck, that’s a tight little cunt.” He coos. “Never would have gone anywhere else if I had you in my bed.” It’s a shot at your husband, but it’s also true. He pulls back and presses his lips to yours before looking back at the cheaters still tied to their chairs. “We’re divorcing you both.” He announces.

“And you’ve already signed the papers,” you say with a smile, before immediately looking back at Dave. “Tommy gave me the idea. You were going to hand me an amended version of the prenup right? And this “dumb dutiful wife” was going to sign it without even glancing it over.”

Dave smirks when he sees Tommy’s eyes widen and his face drops. Discovering that his plot has been discovered. “Oops.” He hums sarcastically.

You giggle, before gently turning Dave’s face back towards yours and kissing him as hard as you can, a kiss that speaks a thousand words without saying any. “Thank you,” you murmur against his lips, knowing it’s time to face the music.

“Of course.” Dave sees the uncertainty and anxiety cross your face. He can tell you are scared of what might happen now that this is done. Pulling out if you gently, he sits up and looks towards the cheaters. “All your shit had been moved out of our houses to a storage unit. We’ll leave the keys, but you, especially you, Tommy-“ he growls, pointing his finger at the man. “Are not to come back tonight. Carol, you can come by and see the girls tomorrow. But you two enjoy the rooms.” He stands. “After we are dressed, I’ll untie you, Carol and you can untie Tommy after we’ve left.”

“You have no reason to come back to my house,” you say to Tommy, with a new found courage. “That’s why we drove your car. Don’t come back. I’ll see you in court with the video evidence of your cheating and your plans to fraudulently amend our prenuptial agreement.”

Dave ignores them as the two of you clean up and redress. Not even sparing them a glance. It feels freeing, setting out the papers and dropping the keys into a table before he smirks at you.

“Still ok to get a ride home?” You ask quietly, before he goes to untie Carol.

“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dave stops and nods, giving you an encouraging smile before he moves back towards Carol.

You collect both yours and Dave’s things as he unties Carol, staying back just in case she decides to lunge at you. “Enjoy sleeping here tonight,” you say to Tommy, “This room will be the last thing I ever spend my money on you on. Sorry about the soaked sheets.” You add with a smirk.

Dave pulls off the gag and Carol sucks in a lungful of air. “Dave- Dave please, it’s not- I’m so sorry.” She sobs, leaping up out of the chair. “It was- God, I shouldn’t have done this.”

You see her leap towards Dave, and take another step back. “But you did,” you say quietly, “Both of you did this! For almost a year and the shit you said about us both, was worse than the fact you were fucking. You don’t deserve him and Tommy doesn’t deserve me.”

“I’m sorry Dave, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for him but he pulls back.

“Don’t.” He warns her. “The day I found out you were fucking him was the day I was done with you.”

“Same with you,” you say to Tommy. “I mean it when I say that you’re not welcome in my home again.” Turning to face Dave, you reach your hand out for him to take, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” he assures you, taking your hand and looking back at the other two people with a look of utter disdain for them plastered on his face. “I hope you two are happy together.”

You lead him out of the room. Hand tightly gripping his as you make your way to the elevators, and pressing the button. Wordlessly you turn to face him and rock up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

He’s surprised by the kiss but he doesn’t push you away. Instead, he’s wrapping his arms around you and leaning into it. Enjoying the fact that you aren’t crying like he had expected.

“I’m going to feel you for days,” you say against his lips, before pulling him for another kiss. Stepping into the thankfully empty elevator still attached to him, wanting to extend the moment for as long as you can.

“Do you-“ he pulls away and frowns. “The girls are at a sleepover and I told Kayla’s mom that Carol isn’t to pick them up. Do you want me to crash on your sofa? Make sure Tommy doesn’t decide to show up tonight?”

“Honestly, I was hoping you’d sleep in my bed,” you admit quietly, “But you don’t have to… if you’d prefer to crash on the sofa, you can.”

“I wasn’t going to assume anything.” Dave chuckles quietly, reaching up and rubbing your back. “If you want me to be in your bed, I’ll sleep there.”

“I want you in my bed,” you say with a smile, “How are you feeling?”

“Indifferent.” He admits. “I’m angry for the girls, but I’m completely over Carol. Just cut the infection out and move on.” Maybe not the healthiest way to deal with things, but he managed. “How are you feeling?”

“Kids are super resilient and we both know that they love their Daddy, they’ll be okay.” You say with a squeeze of his hand, “I’m really good, great actually.”

“A good fucking will do that.” He teases, smirking at you slightly. “What are your plans for tomorrow night?” He asks suddenly.

“Yeah, I-uh-I could get used to that,” you mumble, “I’m free. How about you?”

“Well, considering I’m free and you’re free…” Dave shrugs slightly. “Thought I might take you out on a date. If you wanted. If not, I get it.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say with the biggest smile you’ve managed for weeks, “Do I get to wear something pretty?”

“Where whatever you want. Figured we’d go somewhere fancy to celebrate being free of them and decide what we want to do.” Dave hums.

“I like that, nice and breezy.” You say as he slips an arm around you as you make your way towards his car.

“To new beginnings, baby.” Dave jostles you slightly with a grin. “It’ll be ironic if we get together and are happy while they are miserable and don’t last a year.” He pulls his arm from around you and opens the door on the passenger side for you. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“We will. Now that you and that incredible cock have completely ruined other men for me, I'm excited to see where it goes.” You giggle before thanking him for opening the door, “Thank you. To new beginnings.” You say as you smash your lips up against his.

Dave grins. Yes, your ex and his might have hurt you, but you are going to end up winning. He’ll make sure of it.

****

[A year later]

Life comes at you quickly. Your first date with Dave quickly became a 3rd, 4th and so on. The girls adapted quickly with their new changes and before you knew it, you were practically living with them.

He asked you to put your house up for sale and move in with him two months after your first date and a year on, life is perfect.

The sight of Dave napping comfortably on the sofa with your newborn son sleeping on his chest fills your heart. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.

It turns out that your ex-husband having an affair would be the best thing that ever happened to you.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #dave york fic #dave york equalizer 2

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

Text

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.2

The thing is Paul just physically can't say what he feels. It's just an impossibility for him. So if he says reading a negative article about himself “doesn't help” or “it's not good” but it “doesn't get home” I just assume he means ‘It hurts, but I can't think about that too hard or I'll go into a self-hate suicidal spiral again’.

I always love how Paul says Linda. “Linder is er, nature mad.”

She!!

Hearing Paul talk about watching Mary be born makes me wonder if John was there with Sean? Also I wonder if Linda would talk about the experience so glowingly. Probably. She's tough as nails. I had a lovely experience, personally, after the epidural lol

“Dear friend . . . I'm in love with a friend of mine.” This is such a strange and beautiful song. It's a man who has to apologize to his friend for falling in love with someone else. At least, that's my interpretation. What's everyone else's?

I understand why he's so closed off. I do. But when John is going off every five seconds, we're missing half the picture here and it's turning out warped. They really are such a good study of attachment honestly.

“Nothing will ever break the love we have for each other.” White-knuckling my way through this section with this quote clenched in my fist.

Yoko, talking about John fighting with Paul: any couple will go from swearing to kissing and it's like that. What favors are you doing yourself here, babe? Maybe John's the PR mastermind between the two of them.

I find John's comparison of working with his romantic partner to being ambidextrous very confusing. Does he mean just doing two things at once?

“If I can't have a fight with my best friend, I don't know who I can have a fight with.” -- Intro slutty gender-fluid Wings Paul my beloved -- “Tell me why, why, why do you treat me so bad? So bad? When you're the best friend a man ever had?” I heard on some podcast somewhere. Someone was going on about how forward-thinking the Beatles were to refer to the women in their songs as “friends”. And I was like, nununununu do not give them that credit.

This is just soooo. In this era? 90 minutes in the middle of a recording session?

John: Sorry, my estranged fiance is calling, gotta take a break. Guitarist: again? Drummer: how estranged can they be if they call every three minutes? Yoko: should we just record the other parts or . . . John: (receiver cradled to his cheek, lovesick grin on his face) Hey, how was Heather's school program? Haha, yeah, I bet she was.

Okay, so you've made up with Paul and now you're done being homophobic? *Cardi b voice* well that's suspicious.

The fact that John's asking Paul to play on stage with him in 1972?? Ugh! If it was just about legalities and money and shit I would be genuinely so pissed at Paul for not going. If only because Come Together sounds incredibly lame without his bass and piano. But also for the obvious fix-it reasons. I have to remind myself of how truly awful Klein was. By being the only one to stand firm against him, Paul actually ended up saving them all from a lot of trouble. But gosh would this have been good!

Things normal people say, for sure, for sure.

Okay in my head it went like this. John calls George and bitches about what an egomaniac Paul is because he won't do anything with him as long as Klein is involved. George gets off the phone and calls Ringo and they make a bet as to how long it is until John decides they should get rid of Klein.

“Where's your audience, Paul?” “In the theater, Dave.” As he should. The cuntiness is unparalleled. Yeah, maybe people like to see a family friendly eclectic magic pixie sexy hard rock floor show? Ever thought about that, Dave?

Anyway, he seems genuinely pissed when the interviewer even mentions the other Beatles and he refuses to even admit he still talks to any of them. Why?

John's just so benevolent and selfless. He's completely straight, of course, but he's always offering to do gay shit. You know. To be nice.

I forget that not only was May their literal employee, but she was ten years younger on top of that. And yet, she managed to do so much good in that relationship. I have so much respect for her.

There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes that they don't say in interviews. Duh. But I wonder what it is that caused Paul to be so open and happy in this interview where he's asked about the other Beatles compared to before. I wonder if he and John had a really lovely talk, or if he's heard a demo of “I know, I know.” Or maybe it's just he's so reassured that they've got rid of Klein that he feels safe acting open to a reunion on record. Who knows, Yoko.

So so smart to pair “In My Life” handwritten lyrics with the matching lyrics of “I know I know” playing at the same time. I forget about that connection (“I love you more”) because it's so overshadowed by the “than yesterday” right after. I seriously wonder if John thought he was being so obvious with this one the way he was with HDYS and half hoped people would ask him if it was about Paul and he could make up for the whole thing. Because it's just so heavy-handed. It's beautiful. I love it. I'm sure Paul loved it. But yeah. John's just beating us over the head with the references here.

I also wonder (very tentatively!!!) if Paul was maybe a bit more emotionally vulnerable with John than we usually think. I would never think this except for the “you know I nearly broke down and cried” “I'm sorry that I made you cry” and “no more crying!” I don't know. What do we think?

His little baby smirk. It's so silly and cute. He's being very positive about getting back together, and the interviewer asks if John would initiate that. Just a very coy, “a, well, I couldn't say.” I wonder if at that point if he'd said on live tv that he wanted to get together again if it would've happened. Seems like it might have, but I understand him being scared.

Elton John taking pictures like a fan and John: I wanna impound all those photos till I get me green card. What a random idea for a commercial. I love it, obviously, it's hilarious. I wonder who thought of it.

This doc is so good at implication. The smirk as “loving in the palm of my hand” plays. That's not a reference to hand jobs, is it? Certainly not talking to someone with beautiful hands?

Everyone go look up Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five on YouTube. The singing sex is something else, yeah, but I'm always so blown away by the piano part. The fact that he's self taught and doesn't read music and this man will go on to compose symphonies.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #linda eastman #yoko ono #understanding lennon mccartney #ulm

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c-m-stuff · 4 months

Text

Secret Santa

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

-Description: You and Spencer are together. It's secret Santa time.

-Warnings: Fluffiness

-Word count: 1157

-Note: A sweet fic for the upcoming holidays. Do you guys love Christmas as much as me?🎄🎁

Masterlist

Y/N POV:

'That was delicious, Dave.' JJ complimented the Italian man, the whole team agreeing.

'You really went all out this year.'

'Of course, I went all out. It's Christmas Eve for God's sake.' he replied, while we all laughed.

'My favorite was the wiiiiine.' Penelope giggled, as she poured herself another glass of wine, causing everyone to chuckle.

It became a tradition to all celebrate Christmas Eve at David's place. It was nice, spending time together without standing next to a dead body. Another tradition was secret Santa. The game you pull blindly a name out of a bowl to thereafter buy a Christmas present for that person. I've always loved it.

'Calm down with the wine, baby girl. We don't want a re-do of last year, when you all told us what's in the presents, before we got to actually open them.'

I giggled at Derek's statement, as I felt someone sitting on the couch next to me. Looking up, it was my genius boyfriend.

After pinning at one another for almost a year, the pretty boy himself admitted his feelings and asked me out for a date. The situation it happened wasn't the normal one, though. It was the end of a workday at the BAU, as the elevator suddenly decided to stop working. While we were in it! After panicking at first, and calling the team, we got stuck for a good hour. Which let us to admit our feelings for one another, all while curled up on the elevator floor. After that, time went on, and so did the dates. And, then there was one special moment were he asked me to be his girlfriend. I am still thankful for that elevator to stop working on that special day.

'It's secret Santa time!' David announced, and everyone went to grab their presents from under the Christmas tree, before heading to the comfortable couch.

JJ pulled Emily's name and bought her a gift card from a nice clothing shop and a tequila bottle. Emily got Aaron and decided to gift him with a black coat and a reading light for if he goes over paperwork in bed. Aaron drew Derek's name and bought him two tickets to a football game and a new tool belt for when he is renovating homes. Derek got David and gifted him new cooking equipment and a bottle of 30 years old scotch. David pulled Penelope's name and decided to gift her a pair of beautiful, pink heels and two tickets to a theater play. Penelope got JJ and presented her with a gorgeous necklace she's been talking about buying but never got around to and a mock with a text saying: "I'm a mom, what's your superpower?".

As everyone was done gifting the other their presents, they all realized Spencer and I drew each others names, considering we're the only ones left.

'Of course the two love birds got each other.' Derek commented, a grin plastered on his face. Although, it didn't went unnoticed by me when Derek winked at JJ, who was already grinning by herself. Then, it hit me that JJ was the one who was in charge of the bowl full of names.

'Okay, pretty girl, you first.' Derek said, as I gave my present to Spencer.

I watched as he carefully tore the wrapping paper off, revealing the first edition copy of the book The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury.

'No (Y/N), you did not!' he exclaimed, enthusiastic.

'How did you- Where did you-' he looked flabbergasted and guilty at the same time.

'You didn't have to, I would have been fine with a gift card from the book store. This must have costed you a fortune.'

'Ahh, not quite, genius. Well, I was last helping my grandparents with moving out. They're going to live in an apartment instead of a way too big house, like I told you. And, surprisingly, I found the book on the attic amongst some other books. I got it for free.' he kept staring at me in shock, still flabbergasted. He instantly wrapped me into a greatful hug, pressing multiple kisses on my head.

'Thank you. Thank you so much!'

'That's not all, pretty boy. Open the book.' I told him, as he did. A gift card from the bookstore revealed. Everyone laughed at the earlier mention of a gift card for books, as Spencer once again thanked me with words and a hug.

Then, he gave me a gift bag, covered with Christmas trees. I took the first thing I felt and tore off the wrapping paper. It revealed a stunning vintage camera. My eyes widened, admiring the, in my eyes, piece of art. I've always adored polaroid photos.

'I remembered you saying that you really wanted one. You wanted to capture moments like these, and that you loved the reality of the photos because you have only one shot.'

'Thank you so much! It's amazing!' I pressed him in a tight hug, before he spoke again:

'There's more, though.'

We ended the hug, as I reached for the bag and took the other present out. I was quick in ripping of the wrapping paper, seeing it was a beautiful notebook. He clearly knows my love for notebooks and this one was covered with blue butterflies. Absolutely gorgeous.

'Thank you! I love it!' once again, we shared a tight hug, as Spencer whispered something in my ear.

'That's not everything.' I pulled back and looked at him with a surprised face.

'There is more?' he nodded, gave me the most sweetest smile, and went down on one knee. I gasped, tears already forming into my eyes.

'(Y/N), you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Since the first day I met you, you were nothing but kind, you listened always to my rambling, and you made me a better person. I love you for for being you. You are beautiful, inside and outside. (Y/N), you are my future. Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?' I was still shocked and couldn't believe this was happening. My soulmate was proposing. I couldn't be more happy.

'YES! YES, I WILL!' I flew in his arms, everyone cheering and clapping.

Tears were now fully pouring out of my eyes, and it wasn't different for Spencer. My fiancé. It felt so good using that word.

'And, I can't wait for you to be my husband.'

'I can't wait for you to be my wife.' he whispered in my ear, as I did the same with him.

_________________________

#criminal minds #cm #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x fem!reader #fluff imagine #christmas #mentioningmargins

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haywire-hetfield · 4 months

Text

Metallica members getting you high for the first time (gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic)

Cliff

Cliff is probably the most casual out of all of them. He doesn't make it a big deal or anything. He's gotten other people high for the first time before, so it's not new to him.

You two are just hanging out the first time you try it. He's smoking on the couch and you mention you've never smoked before.

Of course, he asks if you'd like to. He lets you finish the rest of his joint, telling you that you don't need more than that the first time.

He only mildly laughs at you when you end up in a coughing fit, assuring you everyone does that their first time.

He's the most equipped, making sure you have plenty of drinks and snacks.

You two spend the rest of the night just talking on the couch, some soft music playing in the background.

Kirk

Kirk would be the most supportive during. He makes sure you actually want to try it and aren't just doing it because you feel like you need to.

He'd have a space specifically for getting high and take you there. It's decked out with comfy pillows, blankets, etc.

He stays stocked with snacks and drinks as well as relaxing records he likes to put on while he's high.

He also has the most options for what you can try. He suggests trying a thc gummy or a thc pen first.

He intentionally gets less high than he normally would, wanting to make sure he's alert if you need anything.

Probably has some fun facts about weed (and definitely has weed jokes.)

Stays with you the entire time until you finally go asleep, making sure you have everything you need and making sure you're still okay.

Dave

He's actually the one who suggests you try getting high. He's drunk when he pitches the idea, but when you bring it up again the next day, he's still down.

He doesn't smoke often because he doesn't like the way it makes him feel, preferring to get drunk instead.

He has tried edibles a few times, but he tends to stay away from them. They make him feel weird and besides, he likes how smoking makes his voice sound anyway.

He used to have a pipe, but he decided it was too much of a risk. Anything that could be broken ended up getting smashed at some point, so he sticks to blunts.

He'd have a wide variety of flavored blunt wraps, despite not smoking very often. He even lets you pick whichever one you want to try.

He isn't the outwardly supportive like the others are, not really reassuring or checking in, but he hangs out with you the entire time and he's a comforting presence.

James

He'd be the most nervous about getting you high for the first time. He stresses about what's going to happen if you freak out or get sick or something.

Eventually, he agrees to do it. (Mainly because he doesn't trust all of the others with getting you high for the first time, mostly Lars.)

He prefers edibles over smoking because he thinks it fucks up his voice too much and it dries his throat out.

He's got a collection of various snacks for you two to try and he starts you out with a comically small amount.

He's a bit reluctant to keep giving you more, but he gets more relaxed as time goes on and he realizes nothing bad is happening.

Once you two are both high, it's a lot easier. He's completely relaxed and you're both laughing together.

You two spend the entire night watching movies on the couch and talking, although you're not sure how coherent you actually are during.

James is more willing to get high with you again after the first time, finding he actually had a really good time with you.

Jason

Easily the most excited about the idea of getting you high. He's never been with someone the first time they've gotten high before, so it's interesting to him.

He watches you the entire time you're smoking, trying to give you pointers, but he's not the greatest at explaining it.

He is the most likely to either have a broken bong (the bowl gets stuck now, so he has to pull it for you) or a DIY bong made out of something not intended to be smoked out of.

Asks you a ton of questions during, mostly about how you feel. It's been a while since he got high for the first time, so he's curious.

Definitely the cuddliest member when high, wanting to stay snuggled up to you the entire time.

He tells you horror stories about times he's been high or how others have been because he thinks it'll be funny. (It is not.)

Lars

He's definitely the one who actually encourages you to try it the most. He thinks it'll be fun to watch you at the very least.

He goes for joints for your first time and he ends up having to get it from one of the others. (He's not great at rolling joints.)

He spends most of the night focused on getting you high instead of smoking himself.

Thinks it's funny to mess with you while you're high, specifically putting on whatever movie or TV show he thinks will fuck with you the most.

He's especially giggly and you can't tell if it's because he's high or because you are.

He would definitely brag about being the person who got you high for the first time.

Ron

He's the one least excited to teach someone how to get high. He already has to put up with the rest of the band when they're high, he gets tired.

But when you promise you won't be an asshole, he gives in.

He's the only one who actually knows how to roll joints, but he ends up teaching you how to use a bong.

He's a pretty good teacher, despite being a reluctant one. He isn't as interested in watching you get high, but he enjoys your company nonetheless.

He prefers being outside when he gets high, so you two sit in his car with all the windows down and the radio on.

If it's at night, he absolutely points out different stars and constellations for you.

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directdogman · 8 months

Note

Hey dogman, idk if you answered this

Who, out of both DSAF and Dialtown, was your favourite to write and/or create?

It's very hard for me to pick favourites with my characters because I don't tend to give characters a lot of screen-time unless I find a character interesting or fun to write. You've caught me in a talkative mood, so warning, there's an onslaught of text coming!

DSaF: Dave was the most fun to write for, as I remember it. I mean, the guy is the walking personification of chaos and even when he's being constructive (eg, rigging robots to do insane stuff), it's usually in a destructive capacity. Dave will do LITERALLY ANYTHING but contribute to society in meaningful/valuable ways.

In terms of what character-writing I was most 'proud' of, I was also pretty happy with Dr Henry Miller, as a villain. Namely the research he embarked on, described in his logs in DSaF 3 (which the fandom evidently agreed with, as I got really strong feedback on those logs.)

One issue a lot of people (including myself) have with canon William Afton is that he's this kind of mad scientist character but his research doesn't really seem to be... idk, going anywhere? Other than using remnant (soul nectar?) to make kids possess robots, it's kind of a mystery how he got to this point he did from running a bad fast food restaurant. William gets fleshed out motivations in TSE and even then, it mainly revolves around his relationship with Henry Emily, iirc. It's actually pretty accurate to how real serial killers think, imo, but there's a pretty wide berth between this kind of serial killer and becoming a sci-fi fast-food mad scientist... So, I decided to try to bridge that gap.

DSaF Henry's logs actually mention where the idea for his research came from, namely the fact that he existed in a world with normal scientific rules just like ours and seemingly discovered something supernatural, and he approaches it like an amoral scientist would - trying to figure out how to figure out more about the fabric of reality using the newly discovered phenomenon of possession. The 'joy of creation' phrase people pulled from Golden Freddy's phone call in FNaF 1 is given context - Henry is trying to find out what's on the other side (and eventually, how existence itself formed.)

There's other aspects to his character that make him more interesting too, like the implication that his research is partially an excuse for him to act on an underlying sadism (with scenes implying that he inflicts damage on others than can't be justified as assisting with his research.) His background as a dissident/quack laughing-stock scientist (thanks to pushing his soul theory in a best-selling book, which is considered pseudoscience) BEFORE he embarked on his journey to become a fast food tycoon also makes it less farfetch'd that he'd be capable of y'know, harvesting human souls intentionally to continue his research?

I had more for the character on paper that people haven't seen but some of it wasn't revealed due to it feeling a bit too disturbing to publish. None of the contents would've been all that controversial, more just too tonally disturbing when written about in detail (like a omitted part from his backstory/lore post where he managed to pick up a hazy audio of his wife + son's crying from the radio of the car his wife/son drowned in and reacted with genuine elation upon realizing he'd discovered a new scientific phenomenon (as this was the first time Henry witnessed soul-possession.)) Yeah.

I don't feel much of a need to revisit Henry as a character because as a series villain, he was pretty thoroughly-written and he did his job effectively... And his fate was well earned! (He even got an epilogue short-story a few years back, further cementing his fate!)

Dialtown: From the characters/writing that the fandom has seen? Tough to say. I genuinely really like every DT character. Gingi and Mayor Mingus are two of my favourite characters to write for because they're both really insistent and react to adversity in a really comically indignant way. Mingus is more like Gingi than she cares to admit in very specific ways, which is the core hypocrisy of her character - she's one of the most abnormal things IN Dialtown, and spends the game on a quest opposing abnormality that she, herself, can't stand.

Many absolute rulers have debilitating physical and/or mental cruxes and despite that, usually have the final say on what is/isn't okay, often guided by arbitrary preferences. It's funny to remember all of the ancient kings and emperors who dictated how others should act, talk and even think, when very many of them themselves were anything except a good reflection of their own subjects! It's an irony I quite enjoy and leads to a fun character to write for!

My favourite DT writing is probably some of my Callum Crown speech drafts. I have a definite bias here since Crown's character is based on many figures I've encountered in my own reading (and his story relates to topics I enjoy reading about.) A lot of that is real nerd shit that wouldn't be interesting to 99.9% of DT fans (like a long conversation where Crown + Milt discuss a campaign speech Milt wrote for Crown and they bicker about if the wording/arguments used are truly honest.) Again, not super relevant to Dialtown-proper, but it explains a lot about why the world of DT ended up the way it did.

Realistically, the story of Dialtown itself is basically a weird little epilogue to a story that ended decades upon decades ago, centered around a bunch of small-town nobodies circling around the carcass of the last surviving main character of the old story.

I'm also very happy with Gingi's character partially because I know more about Gingi's past/future than you guys do. Gingi has such rotten memory that Gingi's backstory before DT's story begins is basically a complete mystery. Thanks to Gingi never getting close enough to any humans before laying its eggs, there's nobody in Gingi's life that can fill in the gaps. Companionship means so much to Gingi because prior to meeting The Gang, Gingi is aware of a massive and unknown block of time that's a complete mystery precisely because Gingi had nobody in its life. To Gingi, this time was basically akin to being non-sentient or dead, and Gingi would never go back.

While I was making DSaF, I drafted a ton of other stories on paper. I considered making most of them, but decided not to for various reasons, despite getting some solid feedback from collaborators. Bits of almost all of those project ideas made it into DT, with Gingi having traits from several other main characters I prototyped years and years ago. This includes where Gingi came from and what exactly Gingi is. I don't want to mislead people into thinking Gingi is more important than it is, like Gingi is the key to unlocking DT lore (I promise there's a LOT of aimless scuttling/devouring in Gingi's past and relatively little else!) BUT: Of everything from those old scrapped projects, Gingi is what I decided deserved to survive the most. And that has to count for something.

One day I'd love to make sequels to DT and perhaps explore some of the stuff I've described above, like why the hell the world of DT is the way it is or maybe where the hell Gingi spawned from. Thanks

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geralts-yenn · 9 months

Text

Fakin' it

summary: To win back your ex-boyfriend, you decide to fake date your best friend. What could go wrong?

warnings: vaginal fingering, oral (F/M, M/F ), protected vaginal sex, immature behavior by idiots in love

word count: 5,5k

A/N: Okay, this is silly and immature, but it's fun. Or maybe I have just watched too much of "The summer I turned pretty"...

Inspo board

“Hey sweetcheeks, what happened?” You hadn’t noticed Mike getting up to your retreat in the old tree house in the backyard of your home.

“Go away, Mike!” you told him, hastily brushing your tears off your cheeks. You really didn’t need him around you right now. Mike would try everything that he could to make you laugh. Like he always did. But you wanted to be miserable.

Your boyfriend just told you that he is seeing someone else. That it’s getting serious, so it would be only fair to tell you. Like, maybe it would have been better to tell you right from the start that you weren’t exclusive? You were making plans to build a life with this guy, and he was making plans of how to screw other girls without you noticing, it seems.

“Hey, someone there?” Mikey waved his hand in front of your eyes. Apparently, he had been talking to you while you drifted back to the moment where your life got shattered.

“Sorry,” you said, another sniffle following. “Dave told me that he has a new girlfriend. And he’s serious with her, so he doesn’t want to see me anymore.” New tears rolled down your cheeks.

Mike dropped to the floor next to you. “Wait, back to the start because my mind is playing tricks on me. Dave told you he has a girlfriend? Like another one, not you?” Mike’s jaw was practically on the floor as he stared at you incredulously.

It almost made you laugh because he looked just so silly. Damn, that man really always made you feel better. But right now, you hated him for this.

“Can you just leave me alone and let me drown in my misery, Mike?” you asked him, but he didn’t move.

“Not happening, princess!” He shook his head with a frown that should have made him look serious, but it didn’t work. Mike doesn’t do seriousness. In fact, he looked incredibly cute like this.

You accepted your fate and started talking about your night with Dave. Mike was surprisingly calm and just listened to your ramblings. After you finished with how you got home and ended up crying your soul out in the tree house, Mike wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

“How do you want me to kill him, sweetcheeks? Slowly and cruel? Or fast and gorey?” This time he actually managed to look serious but yet, it made you snort.

“I actually would prefer getting him back.” you admitted, feeling totally stupid while doing so because you knew it was, in fact, totally stupid. But it was the truth. You were still in love with Dave. Even when you knew that he had treated you awfully.

Mike looked at you with an odd look on his face. “You really want that, do you?” he asked and you nodded. You felt ashamed, but you wouldn’t ever lie to your best friend. “Yes, I love him.”

Mike nudged your shoulder. “Then, we’ll get him back for you,” he told you determinedly. You must have looked at him like an idiot because he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“We’ll make him so incredibly jealous that he won’t be able to think of anything else as how to get you back, sweetcheeks.”

“How would we get him jealous? It’s not like he didn’t know what he’d lose…” But Mike interrupted your sermon.

“You’ll be dating a hot guy and making out with him whenever Dave is near you. He’ll be regretting every second that he didn’t make you feel like the only woman in the world.” A smug smirk that was so typical of Mike appeared on his face. But you could not comprehend what he was talking about.

“Who the hell should I be dating? It's not like there’s a queue of hot guys waiting for me.” This idea was just stupid and for the first time in your life, Mike actually managed to make you feel worse than before.

But Mike didn’t let go of his idea. “Well, first of all, I am pretty certain that I would find some hot guys who’d love to participate in this. However, as we don’t want you to really be dating someone, I volunteer to take that part.”

Now that was too much. You burst out laughing. This silly idiot almost had you believe…. Then you looked into his face. He sat there, his eyebrows raised, a crooked smile, giving you his best version of puppy eyes. He was serious!

“No!” You shook your head insistently. Mike sank his chin on his chest, blinking at you through his lashes. “No, Mike! I'm not making out with you. That's gross!”

He grabbed his heart, pretending to be hurt. “So you don't think I'm hot?” he asked which you answered with an eye roll.

“Mike, I have known you as long as I can think of. That would be just awkward. And let's be real, nobody would believe we would ever actually date.”

Mike pouted at you, and you weren't sure anymore if it was just play-pretend, or if he maybe really was hurt a little.

“I am pretty sure half of our friends ask themselves why the hell we're NOT dating, sweetcheeks,” he pointed out. And he was probably right. Which didn't make it any less odd.

“I don't know, Mike. I don't want to risk our friendship with that. And we don't even know if it will work.” But Mike insisted that it was the best chance for you to win back Dave.

“And we're not risking anything, sweetcheeks. I've hugged and kissed you before. It's not that much different. Our friendship is strong enough to endure some making out sessions.”

You ran out of counterarguments, and so you ended that bizarre night by making plans for dates with your childhood friend.

The next few days you met Mike in your old tree house, making a battle plan for your fake relationship.

You started with photos for social media. That was actually hilarious, and you ended up laughing so much that you even forgot the reason why you were making pictures of Mike and yourself sucking each other's faces. Mike was goofing around constantly, making faces between kisses and tickling you.

“Ouch. Mike! Did you just bite into my cheek?” You rubbed your stinging face, trying your best to look at Mike as if you were about to murder him. “I call you sweetcheeks for a reason. You taste good. Couldn’t resist. You should be glad I was heading for your face.” He looked at you through his lashes and you couldn’t be mad at him for real. Instead, you swore to get revenge.

The next day you started a pretend Netflix and chill and in the end you had a great night, cuddling with Mike on your couch and watching your favorite horror movies. Mike started to throw popcorn at you until you finally had enough and you wrestled him down. You straddled him and gripped his wrists, making him punch himself in his face. When Mike tried to get free, both of you crashed down on the floor, the bowl of popcorn following you, and you ended up crying in laughter.

But then there was the first real challenge. Your friend's group wanted to spend the night at the beach. And you and Mike were supposed to have your first outing as a couple. You were nervous as hell. But at last, it wasn't that bad at all.

Mike was always very physical in showing affection, even as a friend. And so, it didn't feel too awkward to spend the evening in his lap, his arms wrapped tight around you. Even the small pecks he pressed on your cheek and temple felt good.

And it worked, every time you checked on Dave you noticed him turning his eyes away from you.

When it was getting late, Mike whispered in your ear: “We need to step it up a notch, Sweetcheeks.” Without any further explanation, he pulled your leg over his thighs, making you straddle him. He cupped your face with both of his hands and gave you a kiss like you had never experienced before. You noticed how your body reacted to Mike's ministrations, and you couldn't decide whether you wanted to make him stop it or just enjoy the tingling feeling. When he finally pulled away, you gasped.

“I never thought you'd be such a good kisser!” you said, and Mike proudly beamed at you.

For the rest of the evening you kept your position with your legs wrapped around Mike's waist and from time to time Mike acted in his best boyfriend manner, kissing you senseless, running his fingers up and down your skin or maybe even groping your butt.

You didn't miss the look Dave gave you when Mike helped you to get up, and he walked you home, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Even when you had brought enough distance between your friends at the beach and you, Mike didn't stop holding you tight and pressing some pecks on your cheek from time to time. He was so happy about how successful his show was and talked to you about it the whole way back to your homes.

When you arrived at your porch, Mike pulled you close one last time and gave you another kiss that made your legs tremble.

“Mike, we're alone, you can stop pretending.” you scolded him, although you weren't able to suppress a giggle.

Mike let out a soft chuckle himself. “I'm method acting!” he told you, giving you one of his awkward winks before he turned to his own door.

That night you didn’t get to sleep a lot. Your mind kept coming back to your evening. And you realized that you didn’t think of Dave even once. All you cared for was Mikey. How it had felt to be so close to him. How his kisses were messing with you. How your body reacted to him. That you wanted more of this.

It was time to start panicking! You were not supposed to feel this way! You should have known that this whole fake dating idea was stupid. But now it was too late. You were lying in your bed and dreamt about your best friend kissing you.

You managed to spend three days without seeing Mike and it helped to get your head clear again. By now, you were sure it was just the drinks and the romantic bonfire setting that had tricked you into that stupid idea of having feelings for Mike. And then Mike’s head appeared in the door of the treehouse where you were reading. And you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Kimberly is celebrating her birthday in her dad's beach house this weekend,” Mike started as he dropped next to you. There was an odd expression on his face. Something was on his mind, and you had the feeling that you wouldn't like it.

“That's cool!” you said, suspiciously eyeing him. His smile widened and you knew you were right.

“What's the matter? You are planning something.” You attempted to look stern at him, though you were sure you failed at it.

“Not planning anything, sweetcheeks. But Kimberly was making plans on where everyone was going to sleep. And as we're dating…”

Your heart was racing in your chest. You couldn’t freak out now. But you did. “No, Michael, we're not spending the night in one bed!” You pointed your finger at him. “You're going to call Kim and tell her we'll be needing separate rooms!” You couldn't be sleeping next to Mike. All these staged touches and kisses already messed up your feelings. That wasn’t going to end well.

Mike just frowned at you. “Sweetcheeks, everyone saw photos of us sharing the same bed. What do you want to tell them? That you're suddenly converted to some Christian purity cult?” He chuckled at the thought of it. “Aside from that, we've been sleeping in the same bed before.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was when we were twelve, Mike! Totally different circumstances…”

“Nothing changed. You were my best friend then and you are my best friend now. Sweetcheeks, why are you freaking out?”

You wanted to scream at him that everything had changed. Mike’s body had changed, your body had changed. Your feelings had changed, for fuck's sake. How could you not freak out? But saying all this wasn’t an option. Not now and not ever.

“I won’t go then,” you decided, leading Mike to snap his eyes wide open and watch you in disbelief.

“No! You can’t do that. We can’t miss that opportunity. Just think about it. All we have to do is sleep and Dave will be fuming.” He wasn’t wrong.

A thousand thoughts were running through your brain: There was no way of getting out of this without making Mike suspicious anyway. And if you were careful enough, you could do this. You could spend the night with Mike in one bed. And then Dave would be running back to you, and you’d be with him and everything would be back to normal.

“Promise me that you keep away from me,” you demanded. For Mike it must have appeared like you were furious and totally out of your mind. When in fact you were scared – and out of your mind.

“I won’t touch you, I swear!” Mike shook his head as he looked at you, a disappointed expression on his face.

You didn’t talk much with Mike after that until the weekend was finally there and you packed your stuff for Kim’s party. Mike was standing in the door frame watching you as you stuffed everything in your backpack.

“Swimsuit?” he reminded you, but you shook your head. “I won’t need one.”

“Sweetcheeks, there’s a pool, you’ll need one. Show Dave what he’s missing out. That gorgeous boobies need to be on full display.”

‘It wasn’t unusual for Mike to talk like that. It’s just how he is. But this time you froze as he mentioned your chest. Deciding that it was better to just ignore it, you took your bikini out of your drawer and put it into the backpack. “Let’s go” you told Mike and pushed him to the side, so you could run down the stairs and escape his gaze.

When you arrived, Kim showed you your room so you could drop your bags. You stared at the twin size bed standing at the window and wanted to run. How were you supposed to fit in there with Mike? He was lean but he was also tall. He had wide shoulders, and a some nice butt. Damn!

“Sorry, I know it’s small,” Kimberly said. “But I thought since you’re still so newly in love you wouldn’t mind…”

Mike wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your temple. “Thanks, Kim. It’s perfect,” he answered. You wanted to smack him. Perfect? You were going to die tonight. Or maybe you’d kill him, that would solve the problem, too.

Dave wasn’t there yet, so at least you could enjoy the party while avoiding Mike as often as possible. You were chatting with your friends, watching the boys play beer pong, when Dave arrived, his new girl hugging his arm as if she were afraid to get lost.

The next moment, Mike’s hands touched your waist and ran over your belly until you were in a tight hug. Mike whispered in your ear: “Here we go, showtime!” You held your breath, counted to ten and hoped that Mike didn’t notice the goosebumps that covered your whole body.

From then on, there was no chance of avoiding Mike. He was constantly by your side. Touches, kisses. He was dancing with you. He even convinced you to change into your swimsuit and get into the pool. That’s where you were now. Your back pressed to the edge, you were caged between Mike’s thighs and arms. His face inches from yours.

“It’s working, sweetcheeks. Did you see? Dave is staring all the time. And his girl isn’t amused.” Your heart was pounding and it had absolute nothing to do with Dave. All you could think of was how good it felt to be trapped by Mike, to feel his lips brush over yours. You needed to get away from this.

Determinedly, you pushed Mike’s arm to the side and climbed the ladder to get out of the pool. You were about to storm off somewhere where you were alone, so you could break down and cry. But then there was this girl in front of you.

“You can have him. I’m not dating this idiot just to watch him stare at your ass.” With that, she turned and ran down the stairs. You couldn’t do anything else than blink and stand there, frozen. You saw Dave getting up, for a moment he was looking at you as if was about to say something, but then he ran after his girlfriend.

Mike appeared by your side, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Perfect timing, sweetcheeks. Looks as if you’d get what you wanted.” He smiled at you, but his eyes didn’t meet the expression. Instead, he looked as if he lost a game. And Mike was a sore loser.

You were still completely lost what was happening and what you should do. So you grabbed a bottle of cheap wine and finally ran off to the beach. You hadn’t even gotten to the first half of the bottle when Mike had found you.

“What are you doing, sweetcheeks? Why are you acting like that? It’s been working out great, hasn’t it?” You sniffled into his chest.

“I don’t know, Mike. I feel like a bad person. Lying to everyone.” To be true, you hated that you were lying to him. The one person you could always tell anything. But you couldn’t tell him that. Which made you feel worse. What a great clusterfuck!

“You are wonderful! It’s a shame that it needs all these tricks to make others see it. But I know that you are. You’re as far away as it goes from being a bad person.” He pulled you up on your feet, hugging you one armed while taking the bottle from you with his other hand.

“Let’s get you back to the party. Maybe Dave is already waiting. I can improvise making a scene, so you can be with him.” Your stomach turned just by thinking about Mike splitting up with you. What the hell? You weren’t dating for real! That’s what you wanted. But you couldn’t stop thinking how much you’d hate to lose those moments with Mike.

He had left you in the garden and told you to wait while he was getting you some water. You looked around, trying to find something or someone to distract you from your thoughts.

And Kimberly was there to safe you. She stopped next to you with a grin.

“What a drama, hu? As if it is your fault that Dave is gawking at your ass. But at least that idiot was smart enough to run after his shrew. As if he could stand a chance against Mike. Everybody sees how perfect you are together. It was about time.” So much for getting distracted. You must have looked puzzled because Kim was pointing over to the pool. There was Dave sitting on a lounger, his girlfriend back in his lap. You started to laugh hysterically.

Mike appeared next to and followed your eyes. He shook his head, biting back the comment that shouldn’t slip him as long as Kimberly was standing next to you. Instead, he took you in his arms and kissed your cheek. He walked you closer to the pool until you were standing right at the back of Dave.

“Hey, sweetcheeks. What do you think, Should we go to bed?” He nuzzled his nose into your neck and nipped at your ear. It felt so good, you weren’t able to form a word. So you just hummed in approval. Mike let go of you just to take your hand and guide you back to the house. He was watching Dave’s reaction as you passed him, but you couldn’t care less about Dave. You didn’t know what got into you, but there was only one thing in the world that you wanted and that was to be alone with Mike in that ridiculously small bed.

Mike was heading for the small en-suite first, then it was your turn. When you got back, he was standing in the middle of the room, wearing an old shirt and sweatpants. You looked down on yourself, your tank top and shorts a lot more revealing.

Apparently, you had a totally wrong idea of how that night would end. And you couldn’t blame Mike. You had made him swear to leave you alone. And he was still absolutely clueless about what you felt for him. He was expecting an awkward night with his best friend, trying not to touch you without falling off the bed. And thinking about it, what in the hell had made you think that he’d want to spend the night with you in that way. For him this thought probably was as ridiculous and gross as it was for you - before you had started this whole mess.

Mike’s eyes were staring at the carpet as you passed him to get into the bed. When you were settled in the corner, he followed you, trying his best to keep his distance, which was impossible. His shoulder rubbed at your arm and his knee was brushing over your calf.

With a sigh, he turned to his side, looking at you with wide eyes. “You were right, it’s totally odd.” Both of you laughed, easing the tension that had built between you as soon as you had entered the room.

And then it happened. You had no idea who started it, but suddenly Mike’s mouth was on yours. The touch of your tongues shot electric shocks through your body. You grabbed Mikes side and pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. He moaned into your mouth as your soft chest pressed against his. The hands of you both were searching for skin, yours tugging on Mike’s shirt while his ran along the back of your thighs. Hastily you undressed each other. Relishing the feeling of his warm skin on yours, you found the courage to go for the last step. With hitched breaths, you reached out to touch his dick. Mike’s moan reverberated through the room and you were surprised he was this loud. But damn, it did things to you. You pressed his shoulder down, so he was on his back, and you made your way down his chest, along the soft tuft of hair until he was right in front of you. You wrapped your hand around his cock again and your tongue darted out to lick over his tip. Mike pressed another groan through his gritted teeth.

“Damn, sweetcheeks, what are you doing?” You didn’t have any plans on answering him even if you hadn’t just put his dick in your mouth. Instead, you started bobbing your head up and down his shaft. You paid attention to every breath and every sound of Mike, trying to find all the little things that he liked. But soon you couldn’t focus anymore on him because his fingers had found its way between your legs and what he did there was making every thought of you blur. Now it was you moaning desperately around his cock, as he carefully tested what made you clench around his fingers.

He pumped them in and out, curled to reach that spot that made you go insane. You felt your climax approaching so fast and then it washed over you. Your limbs giving in, you collapsed on the bed. But after caching your breath you got up again. You had noticed the condoms, casually placed on the nightstand. Kimberly surely was a great friend. You reached for one of them and opened the unruly foil package with your teeth.

A look at Mike’s face told you that he wanted this as much as you did. So you rolled the condom over his cock and let yourself fall onto the mattress next to him. You guided him to lay between your widespread legs and Mike positioned himself at your entrance. Then Mike pushed forward and you felt him inside of you. The kiss he pressed onto your lips showed the desperation that he tried to hide in the slow and steady moves of his hips. But it didn’t take long until he couldn’t hold back any longer and his thrusts got harder and faster. You felt another climax built up in your core and begged him not to stop. And he didn’t. He pulled your legs over his shoulders, slamming his hips into your ass relentlessly until he felt you come undone around his cock. Only seconds after he found his own release, jerking as he spilled his seed into the sheath.

Mike planted a kiss on your forehead before getting up and going to the bathroom. He wasn’t away too long but when he got back he found you already asleep, completely exhausted by the overwhelming flood of emotions.

So you didn’t notice how Mike lay awake for hours just watching you, thinking about everything that happened, everything he had felt for such a long time. You didn’t catch him brushing hair out of your face before he placed a soft kiss on your lips. You didn’t watch him as he peered at the incoming text on your phone. You didn’t see him leaving the room when the sun was rising and bathed your face in warm orange light.

When you woke up you knew that something was not the way it should have been. It took you a second to realize it was Mike who wasn’t by your side. For a moment, you wondered if you had drunken too much and just imagined the whole night. But moving your hips you felt the soreness that was proof enough that this wasn’t a dream.

You got up, gathered your stuff and put on whatever clothes you found in your backpack. A bunch of eyes landed upon you as you rushed down the stairs. Kim and some more friends were already sitting at the kitchen island with oats and coffee.

“Hey, are you okay? Where’s Mikey?” Kimberly asked, but you just shook your head and ran to the entrance, hoping that they hadn’t noticed the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

As you stood in the driveway, you saw that Mike’s car was still standing there. First you thought that maybe he was just at the beach. But then you saw the note on the windshield.

“Hey, Sweetcheeks! I’m sorry! That’s not how it should have been. Keys are in your backpack!”

The whole drive back to your home tears were falling freely. How could you just fuck up the relationship with the one man you always trusted, the one that you loved? He was your best friend, and he should have been that forever. But now you had lost him.

You were standing on Mike’s porch, but then you turned. If he had wanted to talk he would have stayed. Without thinking, you walked around the house and climbed up to your hideout.

If you had been thinking, you would have guessed that Mike was there. The old treehouse wasn’t only your shelter, it was his equally.

But what you would have never guessed was how you found him. Mike was curled up into a ball on the bed. He didn’t move when you got closer. You noticed the old photo album lying next to him. The open page showed pictures of you two, the last summer before you went to college. You remembered how much time the both of you spent together that year. It was probably the best time of your life. New tears fell down your cheeks.

As you sniffled, Mike finally noticed you and sat up. His head was still hanging low, but you saw that his cheeks were red and his eyes puffy and bloodshot.

“You shouldn’t be here, sweetcheeks,” he muttered. “Go and get your man.” He closed his eyes again and wrapped his arms around his knees, forming a ball once more.

You put the album on the floor to make room for you and sat beside him.

“That’s what I’m trying, silly.” Your hand brushed over his curls. Mike raised his head again. His eyes found yours and you could see his pain in them.

“Didn’t you see Dave’s message? He wants you back. We made it.” His voice broke and he turned to look out of the small window, avoiding your gaze.

“Mike! Do you really think that this night didn’t mean anything to me? Don’t you see what I feel? What I want?” Your fingers hooked under his chin and you turned him to look at you.

“When I woke up this morning I thought I had lost you. That you didn’t want me. But now I see that we both want the same. You do want this, don’t you?”

Mike’s eyes were big as saucers as he looked at you, but there was a spark in it that wasn’t there moments ago. “Sweetcheeks, I have wanted this since we were eighteen.”

And then you were in his arms and your mouth on his. Knowing this was real, this was what you both wanted, this kiss tasted so much sweeter, Mike’s skin was so much softer. Your heart was going to explode.

When everything you did last night was rushed and full of lust, this time you both savored every moment. Fingers were slowly brushing over skin. Soft kisses were placed on every inch of your bodies. Carefully you striped down your clothes, piece for piece. When Mike opened your bra, he hummed contently before he dipped his head right into your chest. He nipped at your skin, making his way to your hardened bud. His tongue circled around it before he started to suck. To pay attention to the other one, he rolled it between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth, his ministrations leading you to clench your thighs together.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Mike. He knelt down on the floor, rolling down your panties. Then he hooked both his arms under your thighs, holding your legs wide open and sank his head into your exposed pussy. The sensation of whatever he did with his mouth made you whimper and cry out his name. As you came undone you threw your head back with a cry. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Mike still kneeling between your legs, biting his lower lip with a proud smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You pulled him up to the bed again and as soon as he sat down, you straddled his thighs. Running your hands up and down his chest, you sighed. “I wish I could fuck you right here and now.”

Mike grinned as he bent down to kiss you hard. His tongue was eagerly exploring your mouth. And when he pulled back, he told you: “We could arrange that.”

You just loved the way he looked at you. But you shook your head. “We need a condom, Mike!” He raised an eyebrow, his look asking you silently if you really thought that was a problem.

He searched through the little box next to the bed, not letting you go from your place in his lap. And it didn’t take long until he held a condom up for you to see.

“I told you I wanted this to happen for a long time.” That little shit really didn’t want to miss a chance. You loved that. Warily you glanced at the date printed on the foil packaging. But of course, he thought of that, too.

You watched as Mike sheathed himself. There was this moment that seemed to last forever where both of you didn’t move, just staring in each other's eyes. And then you lifted yourself from his thighs just to sink down inch for inch on his cock. You couldn’t explain, but everything felt even better as the night before. It was intense, it felt as if you were about to burst, although you were hardly moving. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled your hips.

“I love you, Mikey” you whispered. Mike stared deep into your eyes. He moaned as you slowly rocked your body on his cock. “I love you, too, sweetcheeks.”

#mike hellraiser #hellraiser mike #mike (hellraiser)#mikey x reader #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike (hellraiser) fanfiction #fakin it #my writing

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itsjaywalkers · 1 month

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for the drabbles me n you 71 (jokes....unless..)

but seriously rosekiller 60—i think it fits their vibe perfectly

i seriously considered writing a silly drabble for u and me.. greatest ship of our generation etc etc

but anyways !! here u have some rosekiller darling <3

60. "Before you decide to murder me, let me explain..."

If you asked Barty how he ended up pinned to the ground, right next to an open and half-dug grave, and with a scalpel to his neck, he wouldn't know what to tell you.

He knows it started with the disinheritance. Or maybe it was a bit later, when Regulus had told him he couldn't keep hiding in his dorm room, because his neighbour was starting to get suspicious, and he couldn't afford to be kicked out, now that he had also stopped being a trust fund baby. Not like he behaves any less spoiled.

Barty is convinced that it had nothing to do with the risk of getting discovered, and everything to do with that brainless rugby player who has started coming over. Regulus keeps insisting that it's just for uni, because they have a project together, or something, but Barty has caught that stupid jock ogling his best friend more times than he can count.

And there's also that one time he climbed Regulus' dorm window a bit earlier than he had said he would, and had seen the rugby dude lifting his shirt for some unknown reason and Regulus touch his abs with a ridiculous amount of awe. Like it was the first he was seeing a human body.

Barty still wishes he had recorded it. Regulus keeps trying to gaslight him about it but he knows what he saw. Unfortunately. He still has nightmares.

The point is that Regulus needed him out of there, and Barty also had jumped at the chance of getting away. It was fun, at first, interrupting their alone time and being the target of all those murderous glares Dave—or whatever his name is—kept sending his way. But it was beginning to grow old. The fear of Regulus poisoning his food or choking him in his sleep was getting a bit too real—he gets so cranky when he's horny but doesn't get any.

It's not like it's Barty's fault. He used to take care of that for Reg, because he's a great friend like that, but, well, after that one incident of Barty eating Regulus out and Regulus moaning that stupid jock's name, he refuses to lend him a hand anymore. Literally.

Not being able to rely on Regulus' dorm room, Barty needed money, and he needed it fast. So, technically, it had started with the disinheritance. Because like everything else in Barty's life that goes wrong, of course his father is somehow to blame.

Although, and watching the angel straddling his hips and who's about to slit his throat open, Barty isn't sure he'd say this is going exactly wrong.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, blondie," Barty starts, voice a little strained. "I think the scalpel and the whole threatening my life is a little unnecessary. We can have a conversation like grown ups—"

The angel presses the tool against Barty's skin a bit harder, abit deeper, and he has to bite his tongue to repress a groan when he feels the first drops of blood trickle down his neck.

Is this doing it for him? Really? It's not the weirdest thing that has managed to turn him on, but it's about to get very awkward if he pops a boner all of a sudden.

"Or not," Barty rushes to add, chuckling hoarsely. "We can totally talk like this. The dirt is actually pretty comfortable, and it's such a lovely night. I'd dare to say it's even kinda romantic."

The angel tilts his head to the side, brown emotionless eyes blinking down at him. "Are you flirting with me?"

Blondie's voice is empty, lacking any form of inflexion, but so smooth and so soft it's genuinely doing things to Barty.

"Depends. Is it working?"

He blinks at Barty again. Somehow, the gesture looks more condescending this time. The angel cuts him a bit more, and Barty hisses.

"What do you think?"

"I'm taking that as a maybe," Barty retorts, managing a little smirk.

Barty really has no survival instinct. He might actually die tonight, and yet his brain doesn't seem to be able to get with the program.

Not like Barty can blame it. If his killer looks this pretty, then he has no complaints. Or not as many as he should, at least.

"You were nosing around my grave," the angel states, squinting his eyes slightly. "Why."

"Your grave? I don't know if that's right, blondie, you look quite alive to me—"

The angel exhales loudly through his nose, and then moves the blade to the side of Barty's throat, as if getting ready to properly cut.

"Wait, wait," he exclaims, attempting to grab blondie's wrist and then remembering both of his hands are being crashed by his own back. "Before you murder me, let me explain..."

He pauses, leaves the sentence hanging and stares up at the angel with what he hopes are convincing puppy eyes. They've never worked on Regulus, but then again, he's a heartless man who only gets moved by his Prada slippers, so it doesn't really count.

Blondie doesn't say anything, just continues watching him with the most deadpan expression Barty has ever seen in his life. But his throat is only bleeding just a little, and he's still alive, so he'll take it as a win.

"I didn't know it was your grave, blondie," he assures him, and it feels a bit weird, not having to lie to defend himself. Most of the time, he's done whatever they're accusing him of and worse. "Really. Maybe you should put some sort of sign, something that actually stakes your claim, so people like me don't get confused—"

"You shouldn't be digging up graves anyway," the angel cuts him off with a pointed look.

Barty arches an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how I feel about a bloke who's literally threatening me with a scalpel judging what I decide to do with my free time."

"You said you were gonna explain and I'm not listening to any explanations." The angel rolls his eyes so hard Barty is momentarily concerned. "My hand is getting sore."

"You know how it'd feel less sore? If you dropped that cute little knife, or at least put it away from my face—"

"You have thirty seconds to talk before I cut your neck open."

"Okay, okay!" Barty sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. "It really was nothing personal, blondie. I just needed a body, a recent one, with all its organs intact, so I could sell them for an insane amount of money and pay for a room in the uni accommodation."

The angel finally looses the grip on the scalpel, the pressure becoming bearable. "You're digging up graves because you're broke?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Barty confirms with a shrug. "It's easy money. And I have experience digging up graves." He stops for a second and then he adds, "don't ask."

"I wasn't going to."

"So? Truce?"

Blondie gives another one of his slow blinks. "Not yet. How good are you with dismemberments?"

Barty doesn't miss a beat. "As in, having enough stomach to watch them or doing them myself?"

"Both."

"Quite good, I'd say. If I have the right tools, that is."

"I can provide them."

"Can you? Really?" Barty questions with a lazy smile. "Why would a cute, murderous thing like you need someone who knows how to dismember bodies for?"

"That's none of your business," the angel replies, raising his chin. "It's just for a little project I'm working on."

A project that includes referring to random graves as yours? That needs dead bodies' limbs?

Oh, this guy is absolutely batshit insane.

Barty wants him so ridiculously bad he's starting to get dizzy.

"You can have the organs," blondie adds, after Barty takes a little too long to answer. What can he say, he's a little busy fantasising about bending the angel in half and having his way with him. "They're of no use to me. I only need the limbs. And a head."

"Tempting," Barty admits, nodding. "But the question is, can you afford to hire my services?"

The angel finally puts the scalpel in his jacket's pocket, sitting up slightly and crossing his arms over his chest oncee the blade is away. "Afford? An amateur grave-digger's fee can't be that high, especially when you're this desperate. I'm sure I have enough money to—"

"Woah, woah, no one said anything about money, blondie. That's what selling organs illegally is for," Barty chuckles, squirming until he can free his hands from behind him. Still, he's gentle enough to not jostle the angel in his lap too much.

"Then?"

"A kiss?" Barty bats his lashes for good measure.

Blondie glares at him for a few long seconds, and when Barty is about to laugh it off, assure the other boy he was just joking and simply agree to his insane business proposal, the angel leans down.

Barty is sure that blondie only intended it for it to be a peck, but he's nothing if not an opportunist, and the moment the other boy's lips touch his, he rushes to deepen the kiss. Surprisingly, the angel allows it, opening up his mouth all sweetly when Barty licks at the seam teasingly, and tangling their tongues together.

He lets Barty explore a little, shuddering when he hums lowly into his eager mouth, but then he pulls away, the back of his hand coming up and rubbing furiously at his lips.

It's too dark to tell, but Barty could almost swear the angel is a bit flustered.

"Happy?" he grumbles, slightly muffled.

"Very much so," Barty says, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin. "That's only the payment for a limb, though, blondie. So, if you need more..."

"It's Evan," the other boy correct him with a huff, finally putting his hand away from his lips. "And don't push it. I have to see how good you are first."

"Barty," he introduces himself in response, offering a handshake that Evan accepts, if a little begrudgingly. "I can assure you, I won't disappoint."

#silly little drabbles #rosekiller #s tag

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kiwisbell · 8 months

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The Hitman's Guide to Getting the Girl: Chapter 1 [dave york x f!reader]

It's just another job, until Dave York decides to kidnap an enemy’s wiseass daughter. It’s just another job, until he falls in love.

series masterlist

status: complete

chapter 1 summary: Underestimating the power of a good omelette.

pairing: dave york x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: kidnapping, murder, violence, the world being horrible to women, reader having a very terrible sense of self-preservation, unprotected piv, oral sex (m and f receiving), dave york finding his second calling as a pussy-eating god, pining, possessive sex, jealousy, daddy issues, (stockholm syndrome?), dirty talk, actually filthy talk, hitmen and politicians, revenge, scary man with a soft spot for his woman, philosophical foreplay, tramp stamp worship (you'll see), a little sprinkle of breeding kink if you look hard enough, obsessive behaviour, anal fingering, anal sex, implied age gap, light dom/sub vibes, light bondage

tags and warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, violence, pretentious allusions, breaking and entering, self-reflection

word count: ~ 5k

this will be the first fic i've ever cross-posted to tumblr (yay me!); this means, however, that i am still learning and will likely make some silly mistakes. nonetheless, i have to apologise for my long hibernation and hope that bringing y'all a new miniseries will initiate my journey to forgiveness. please let me know what you think so far! chapter 2 will be posted soon.

PREFACE

“‘If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; which if thou please to hide in this true breast, and let the soul forth that adoreth thee, I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, and humbly beg the death upon my knee.’” — Richard III, I.II

chapter 1: when i first saw you, the end was soon

JANUARY

Dave York likes a clean job.

The interior of the home presents a good start. He enters through the garage door, briefly sweeping the Range Rover’s interior for any surprises. Finding none, he gives the signal to Resnik, who moves around to the front door. He will maintain a holding position until Dave radios his all-clear. There’s only one objective tonight.

It’s hardly your average suburb. The house is a goddamn mansion, with a winding driveway and no neighbours for four miles. It’s nighttime, dead silent, and nobody ever drives up here unless they’ve taken a wrong turn, but Dave is careful. He wore all black from his boots to his head, which was shrouded by a black hat. He brought one vehicle, three men, one weapon each. He does not intend to start a fight.

Well, not yet.

The foyer is clear, too. Two coats are hung up on the iron hooks: a sky-blue peacoat and a leather jacket. They look like they both belong to a woman. So do the shoes, which vary from a pair of cosy slippers to multiple sets of high heels (the physics of which he couldn’t hope to comprehend if he tried). It’s dark here, but a lone light illuminates the hallway ahead, shining from a room to the left. The kitchen, if his blueprints were correct.

His finger feathers near the trigger of his .45 Auto, his back up against the adjacent wall as he creeps toward the source of the light. Kovac’s voice crackles in his earpiece (“Clear upstairs”) as Dave takes a slow, deep breath and crosses the threshold into the kitchen, his firearm sweeping every corner before his eyes can.

The small hanging lights are on above the generous island, and a woman tends to a steaming cup of coffee behind it.

You look up and smile politely at Dave. “Hi.”

He had dealt with plenty of curveballs in his life. Avoiding IEDs, taking out a target from half a mile out, all the bullshit that came with building a business. Dave York knows how to take the shit and roll with it.

But you're… smiling.

Dave’s lips part but no sound comes out. You continue, stirring sugar into your coffee. “You don’t need to use that gun, do you?”

He licks his bottom lip and continues to stare.

Your smile turns sheepish. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Stunned, Dave actually lowers the weapon a fraction.

You don’t hold yourself like you’re paralysed by fear. There is no tension in your shoulders; you look wholly at ease in your own home, your hands warmed by the cup of coffee on its little pink coaster. Dave expected terror, pleading, scratching and kicking and screaming.

“Boss? You clear?” comes Resnik’s voice in his ear.

“Do you mind if I finish my coffee?” you ask, indicating that your mug is still half-full.

Dave cannot physically produce the noises necessary for speech. He finds himself inclining his head in a vague nod, allowing you to lift the coffee cup to your mouth and purse your lips as you blow the steam away. It curls toward Dave and evaporates like a silvery ghost.

What kind of captive goes willingly to their own prison?

One who knows their bed is made.

“Hold,” he finally says to his team. “Apprehending target.”

“Ask them if they’d like a coffee before they go,” you offer. “I’ve got plenty to go around.”

He cannot bring himself to repeat those words to his men. He’s having enough trouble wrapping his head around you as it is.

You introduce yourself, and Dave assesses you as he shifts around the island. Sweeping his gaze from your slippered feet up to your slip of a nightgown, he finds nothing of note save for a pretty woman who knows she’s about to be taken forcibly from her home. A woman who’s seemingly prepared so well for this exact situation that she made a coffee at midnight and prepared some for her uninvited guests, too.

For the first time in his entire illicit career, Dave does not know what to think, do, or say.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made this difficult,” you tell him. “Do they usually struggle?”

Dave swallows thickly and finds his mouth completely dry. “Uh. Yeah.”

You smile indulgently, and it knocks his insides askew. “I can scream if you want.”

Dave winces. “No, that’s—that’s not necessary.”

“Well. You should probably frisk me. They usually frisk first.” You shrug one shoulder. “I don’t have a weapon on me, but if it makes you feel more comfortable…”

He’s holding a weapon in his hands and he’s never felt more disarmed.

They usually frisk first.

Who are they?

Dave frowns. “This has happened before?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “My father has made a lot of people angry.”

He feels the tension in his jaw when his teeth begin to ache from grinding them together. “Your father—”

“Let me guess. Screwed you over on a business deal.” You pin Dave with a powerful look, one whose meaning he cannot place. “Last I heard, he was in Zurich. You may be waiting a while if you intend to keep me until he returns. He’s nowhere as efficient as you seem to be.”

A deliberate choice of words, equal parts compliment and warning. Code for, If you want to travel anywhere in the next little while, you’ll have to take your little hostage with you.

Code for, I’m going to be more trouble than I’m worth.

He could have told you that the second he walked into the kitchen.

Dave moves behind you and watches you lift your arms before he can ask. The slight movement sends a waft of sweet, dark vanilla perfume toward him. He inhales, fascinated by the bombardment of sensations as he puts his hands on your body. The frisking is clinical—left arm, right arm, waist, hips, thighs, Jesus Christ— and ultimately fruitless. But your hair is soft and smells freshly of shampoo, your ears glisten with expensive diamonds, and your eyes glimmer with new colours he could not see from afar. You’re a picture of wealth and beauty and he’s entranced by the straightness of your spine, the incisive look in your eye.

You turn your head slightly to look at him, and Dave surprises himself when he maintains eye contact. “What’s your name?” you ask, your voice soft. He feels a cool puff of air brush his cheek when you speak.

His hands are still on your waist. As if struck by lightning, Dave jolts away. You don’t evade his eye, sipping the rest of your coffee. It’s so far beyond being in his best interests to give you his name, especially since he plans to keep you alive.

“Dave,” he says, fucking his best interests right in the ass.

You hum in appraisal. He feels more like the prospective captive with the way you look at him. “Pleasure to meet you, Dave. I’m finished with my coffee if you want to go now.”

“Okay,” he says, his voice gravelly.

“Where are you taking me?”

“My house,” he says shortly. “I’m not giving you the address, so don't ask.”

“I wouldn’t ask for your address. I would dig it out.”

He has no fucking doubt.

“Won't your family be suspicious of a bound woman locked up in your home?”

“I don’t have a family. No one will see you.”

He realises his mistake the instant he says it. “No more digging. No more questions.”

“Will you blindfold me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I allowed to pack a bag?”

“We’ll come back for your things another time. I’ve stayed here too long already.”

“I don't know if you’ve noticed, Dave, but there isn't another soul for miles.”

“People could always be following.”

Your face sets in a ponderous frown. “You're a paranoid man. Paranoid and proactive. Those are dangerous together, you know.”

“You aren't my therapist,” says Dave. “And I told you not to ask questions.”

He's never considered it. Taking preventative measures has always availed him, but what happens when he decides to take those measures against someone who never planned to take action? He's never taken an innocent life, but who gets to decide who’s innocent, anyway?

Your vanilla perfume and your expensive pyjamas and your blinding smile telegraph wealthy naïveté, but as far as Dave is concerned, you're proving to be lethal.

“I’m not asking questions,” you say nonchalantly. He’s irritated by how little your talking annoys him. He should be itching to shut you up himself. Maybe it's the tired, soft drawl of your voice. Different from the gruff male sounds he's used to hearing every day at work. “I’m making observations. While I have time.”

“Time for what?” Now who's the one asking questions?

Your mouth twists. “Making observations.”

He vaguely shakes his head. “Why won’t you fight me?”

“Why won’t you?”

Dave blinks.

Your perfect posture makes him feel like he’s being surveyed. “You didn’t walk in here with the intention to shoot me. Your finger wasn’t on the trigger. And because you have no reason to kill me, I have no reason to fight. I certainly can’t overpower you when I’m weaponless and you have backup. This is only a home. I’ll come back to it someday.”

It feels like fire licking against water. Relentless optimism meets unwavering cynicism. A pretty face and sharp tongue meet a man willing to do anything for a heap of cash. “Why won’t you fight me, Dave?” you ask him again. “It looks to me like you’d rather do anything than force me into the backseat of your car.”

“It’s a job,” he says plainly.

“Kidnapping me, or pissing off my father?”

“You’re insurance.”

“Have you ever heard of the myth of Sisyphus, Dave?”

He grunts, finally tearing his gaze away from you. He already regrets giving you his name.

You take his silence as assent. “And how is your relationship with your parents?”

“Okay. No more talking,” Dave snaps. He tucks his gun into his waistband and demands, with less bite than he intends, “Hands.”

You comply easily, hold your wrists together in front of you. You remain there as Dave directs his attention to his team. “Kovac, meet me in the kitchen. Target apprehended.”

“Roger.”

“Will you kill me if I keep talking?” you ask.

He pins you with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You give him a knowing, clever smile, and Dave feels some of the tension in his shoulders loosen when Kovac enters the room, gun pointed in your direction. You lift your hands in the air and give Kovac a little wave. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Kovac. Dave and I have already made arrangements in here, so no need to shoot.”

He flashes Dave a questioning glance that gets no satisfaction, but lowers his weapon. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, too.”

Dave takes you by the arm, Kovac the other, and they lead you outside together. Resnik follows to the car, plucking his zip ties out of his pocket while Dave winds around to the driver’s side. “Don’t make any stops on the way back,” he tells Ari, “and don’t let her talk to you.”

“She a witch or something?” laughs the driver.

“Yeah. Something.”

A faint noise of protest perks Dave’s ears. “You don’t need to tie them so tight,” you tell Resnik, wincing at the pinching pain of the ties around your wrists.

“Shut up,” is all he says in reply.

“You know, the best way for a hostage to escape zip ties is getting their hands cut off.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Resnik tugs on your bound hands.

“I’m not going to run. But I will complain about chafing the entire trip if you don’t—”

“And I will sew your pretty little goddamn mouth shut if you don’t shut it.” Resnik shoves you hard into the backseat with Kovac and shuts the door. “Jesus, York. Did you have to pick such a complainer?”

Dave flicks out a switchblade and presses it into Resnik’s palm. “Cut them off and do it again. Not as tight.”

Resnik scoffs. “That's funny, man.”

Dave just stares. “Not as tight this time, sergeant.”

Resnik blinks, affronted. “Did you just pull rank on me?”

“You got a problem with that?”

The man sniffs haughtily. “No, sir.”

“Good.” Dave opens the passenger door and slips inside. He puts his gun, safety on, in the glove box. “Nobody touches her or threatens her. You answer to me if she gets hurt, and you won't be happy with my answer. Clear?”

Echoes of “clear” and “roger” echo through the car. Then, your sweet voice, piping up with a “Thanks, Dave.”

He ignores you, but catching a glimpse of you wedged between Kovac and Resnik, Dave’s chest settles a little at the sight of the zip ties around your wrists, much looser than before.

They make a stop on the way back, after all. But only because Dave has to piss.

And you're exhausted.

“Come on out,” he says. “Stretch your legs.”

You take his hand gratefully, shimmying out of the car. Dave crowds you so nobody sees your bound hands or the blindfold around your eyes. The sky is still pitch-black, but the 24/7 service centre still has vehicles parked outside.

“The stars are beautiful this far out,” you say wistfully, looking upward even though you cannot see the sky. “Sometimes I like to take a drive out and sit on the roof of my car in a parking lot. I like to watch the stars. They remind me I’m small.”

Dave tilts his head to the side. “You like feeling small?”

He can't relate to that. He wants to be the biggest person in the room, even if not a single other person knows it. He likes knowing he’s the one wielding the power. He doesn't understand how you can be so content with your hands bound and your eyes blinded.

“I like knowing there are bigger things out there,” you tell him. “Makes me feel protected.”

He has free reign to look at you when you can't pierce him with that keen stare. Your body shifts in a given space with the grace of water. You were raised like a princess, no doubt. A lifetime of behaving primly and properly under the care of a nanny while your father flitted off to fuck-knows and screwed over his business associates for more power. You know how to wave and smile. Dave didn't expect you to know how to wiggle your way into a person’s brain.

“Something tells me you don't stargaze.”

“Don’t have time for shit like that,” he says with a mirthless laugh. “Busy being a murderous sociopath.”

“I never used those words, Dave,” you say gently, “and I don't think you believe that.”

“Says my captive.”

“Willing captive,” you clarify.

“That doesn't make a difference.”

“It may not for me,” you say, “but it does for you. If I thought you were going to kill me, I would have made a valiant effort to kick your ass.”

Dave snorts. “You a fighter?”

“I’m a talker. Same thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

“And I’m deeply sorry to offend you, Dave”—you feel around for his arm until you find his bicep over his leather jacket—“but you don't frighten me.”

He still feels the touch of your hand when it's gone. Dave makes for the service centre to take a piss, leaving you under Ari’s supervision. Kovac and Resnik are in the empty men’s room, too, talking idly about the choice of fast food joints in the service centre. “Hey, man,” says Kovac, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. “The girl's hungry. You gonna feed her?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m going to feed her.”

“I can feed her something,” Resnik utters under his breath. Kovac slaps him square in the chest as a warning.

Dave’s jaw ticks. “Guess I wasn't clear earlier. Nobody—”

“Touches her. Yeah, I heard. Why, man, you want dibs? I didn't think we were in middle school.”

Dave has known his guys since their Army days. He knows they're capable of some crass talk, but he’s an expert at ignoring them. This time, he can't seem to shake the crude words.

“She came with us willingly, Resnik. She put out her hands and offered you all coffee. If you want to get your dick wet that badly, fuck your hand.”

When he gets back to the car, he helps you into the passenger’s seat. “Is everything okay?” you ask him.

“I just kidnapped you,” he grumbles, fumbling with your seatbelt, “and you're asking me if everything’s okay.”

“Well, you do seem tense.”

“Yeah. A little.” He's leaning over your body to buckle the belt, and he can smell your perfume, your hair, your freshly-laundered pyjamas.

You offer him a conciliatory smile. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nice try,” chuckles Dave, even though the urge itches him under the skin. “You comfortable?”

“I’m okay. Are you?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?” You lift a challenging brow.

Dave only says, “Making me want to talk.”

Beside you, Ari laughs. “I’ll talk to you if you want.”

You give Dave your best pointed look through the blindfold. “Thank you, Ari.”

It's dawn by the time the car pulls into Dave’s driveway. He helps you out, letting you stretch your legs before he guides you into the house. He gently urges the blindfold over your head and you blink in the harsh light. “You okay?” he asks.

You briefly cover your eyes with your bound hands. “A little blind. It’s all right. I’m sure you have a lovely home.”

Dave chuckles. “Thanks.”

You grasp for his arm and wrap your hands around it, your eyes still closed. “Okay. Guide me to the basement. I’ll try not to slip.”

He frowns down at you. “Why the basement?”

“What, you don’t have a concrete prison for me?” You crack your eyes open and squint at Dave. “A cell with iron bars?”

“Uh. No. I was going to give you the guest bedroom.”

You release his arm. “Oh.”

Dave doesn't pause to ruminate on your past experience with kidnappings. Your eyes finally adjust and you follow him upstairs to the bedroom across the hall, already made-up with fresh linens.

Your mouth falls open. “This is the nicest jail cell I’ve ever seen.”

“No bars, I’m afraid,” Dave says mirthlessly. “Just a lock on the outside. Sorry.”

“Just protocol,” you say breezily.

The walls are a soothing off-white, the queen-sized bedding white and plush with a flower-patterned comforter atop it. You lift your brows at the sight of the flowers on the nightstand: freshly watered and thriving, not just a leftover decoration. There's a dresser and a plush ottoman at the foot of the bed.

“Did you do all this?” you ask with a sly smile.

Dave checks his watch. You assess the movement: quick and calculated, no time wasted, a quick flick of his wrist so his sleeve no longer obscures the hands. “If you're asking whether I picked the comforter, no.”

“Long shot.” You shrug. “In any case, it looks great.”

“You aren't supposed to sound grateful.” Dave folds his arms over his chest, watching you as you make your way around the room. You have a delicate way of touching things. Your perfectly manicured nails trace gently around the shapes of objects, like you're not so much feeling as reading their auras.

“You could have locked me in a concrete basement,” you point out, opening the top drawer. “Lots of space for a girl with no clothes.”

“I told you,” says Dave, walking up to your side and closing the drawer, “we’ll go back for your things. Tomorrow, okay? For now, you need to eat. You must be hungry.”

“I’ve been hungry since I saw your car outside my window.”

“Right. Well.” Dave wipes his hands on his slacks, hoping you don't notice and accuse him of having an unfulfilled relationship with his father or some shit. “I’ll bring up some food for you. You vegetarian?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Because I…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don't know.”

You point toward the door on your right. “Ensuite?”

It's such a tactically-posed question that his old instincts almost have him saying, Affirmative. Instead, Dave manages a tight “Yes” and backs out of the room before the rest of the air can escape in the whirlpool you create. “Wash up, if you'd like. No one’s going to bother you.”

“You made that clear.” You give him a wry look and leave for the bathroom.

He has his head cook make you an omelette. Kovac and Resnik munch happily on their takeout food at Dave's dinner table and only clean up after themselves because their boss will wrong their necks if they don’t. Dave sits in his office and checks some boxes on the Post-it note he'd left for himself:

Kidnap rich daughter.

Send ransom.

Piss Daddy off.

Check one. Two more to go.

Dave rubs the slope of his nose and stretches out his back. He wonders if you feel as cramped as he does after being stuck inside an armoured car all night. He wonders why he's wondering about you at all. He hears the shower running upstairs and clutches his pen a little harder.

He has a fucking hostage in his own home, using his facilities. He's heard the word stupid uttered idly tonight, his men thinking he's foolish for keeping you so close. The pretty, young, silver-tongued princess who makes coffee for her captors. He hasn't locked the windows. He hasn't removed every sharp item from the room. You can escape if you want. You can try to attack them. But you know better.

Dave feels a bizarre surge of dread. He doesn't know how to deal with a person who shows no fear when Dave York enters their home. He knows how to cooperate through violence and intimidation. The fact that you respond to neither is not just a lack of leverage. It's a lack of power.

Dave stands abruptly from his desk and finds his head cook, Barry, in the kitchen, sprinkling chives onto what is possibly the most beautiful omelette Dave has ever seen. “Jesus,” he mutters. “She get to you, too?”

Barry chuckles. “No, sir. Just doing my job.”

“Yeah, that's what I keep telling myself, too.” Dave folds his arms over his chest. “This looks great. She’ll appreciate it.”

Barry eyes him subtly before returning to his presentation, but Dave notices the glance. Nothing is subtle when you're a soldier. “What's on your mind, chef?”

“Just…” Barry shrugs his broad shoulders. “The girl. Guy’s gotta wonder why she's here, and not…”

“In a concrete basement?” supplies Dave. Barry shrugs again. “I wasn't aware everyone in my house was so concerned with the health and safety of my prisoner.”

“Not concerned, sir,” says Barry, keeping his eyes down. “Just curious.”

“Clip that curiosity before it gets you into trouble, chef. I’ll take this to her room.”

“Yes, sir,” Dave hears behind his back as he makes his way back to you. He knocks twice on your door, the rap of his knuckles soft, and hears some generic shuffling of feet before you're opening it cautiously, peering through the small gap.

It's only when he catches a whiff of your shampooed hair and looks down into your keen eyes that Dave realises—

Why the fuck is he delivering a goddamn omelette to his own goddamn hostage?

Jesus Christ. He's not stupid. He's never been stupid. He crawled his way up out of the seven hells that was his career in the Army. He wrangled together his old buddies and created a profiting security company. He kills for money and he's never found out. He knows what he's doing.

Except for right fucking now.

You're dressed in a large sweatshirt and a pair of shorts from the dresser. They're both a bit threadbare and mismatched, but you make them look fashionable. Your hair is damp, and you peer at the omelette in his hands.

“That's the most beautiful omelette I’ve ever seen,” you say. “Don't think you can fool me into believing you made that.”

Dave blinks. “Should I be offended?”

You narrow your eyes. “Do you take offence to many things when you kill people for a living? I would think everything sort of slides off.”

Dave’s jaw goes taut. “Are you going to take the plate or just play mind games all night?”

“I’ll take the plate,” you say, opening the door wide, “but I don't see why it has to be one or the other.”

Dave hands you the omelette and feels a bit prideful seeing the clear hunger in your posture. You take a seat at the small, circular table in the bedroom and pull out the other chair for him. “You might as well sit,” you tell him. “You look like you're itching over there.”

Dave should go. He should lock you inside and leave you to your own devices while he gets his guys to bring you food and does his fucking job. He should be mean to you. He should threaten you to behave.

He sits across from you.

You eat exactly how he expects: reserved, taught, precise. Napkin on your lap, back straight. You only speak once you've swallowed and wipe your mouth after every few bites, even when there's nothing there. Dave can see your ravenous hunger, but your behaviour is learned. It’s habit. You've grown up in restraints.

You angle your fork and knife to indicate that you're pausing your meal. “My compliments to the chef.”

Dave, amused by the details of the way you eat, leans back in his chair. “He’ll be happy to have them. My guys are like stray dogs; they don't appreciate a good meal.”

You smirk. “Men tend to eat at their food, rather than eat with it.”

“Am I supposed to ask my food on a date?”

“That's up to you.” Digging back into your omelette, you wait until you swallow before speaking again. Dave hinges on each syllable. “But it might feel more flattered that way.”

“Thanks for the note.”

“Are you happy, Dave?”

He rears back slightly. “What?”

“I asked if you're happy. Do you like what you do?” You finish your omelette and drop your chin into your palm. “Do you like who you are?”

The only light in the room comes from the floor lamp. You seem energy-conscious, consuming as little space and light as possible. Your eyes are soft and curious, your lashes spidery on your cheeks. The width of your pupils sucks him in like the centre of a whirlpool. He wishes more than ever that he stocked this room with alcohol.

“I…” Dave shakes his head. “I don’t know. Should I be?”

“You have a very nice home,” you tell him. “Your cook makes great food. You have authority over some very strong men who like to make crude jokes about blindfolded women. I can understand if you’re happy with your life.”

“Yeah, well.” Dave pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s more complicated than having nice things.”

Your smile is wicked. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy,” you say. “Except for Dave York.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “His life is only a death sentence that never kills. Nobody can imagine Sisyphus happy.”

“Maybe you can't imagine it because you don't know what it means to be happy.” The way you hold eye contact makes him jittery. It feels like a challenge—like trying to keep a foothold on the edge of a cliff. If he slips, you win.

“Maybe I don’t.” Dave tilts his head. “Do you?”

You readjust in your seat, drawing a knee up to your chest and resting your chin on it. “Do you know how many times I’ve been taken from my home, Dave?”

His hand curls into a fist atop the table. “I don't want to know—”

“Seventeen since you,” you supply. “Usually never for more than a few hours or a night. Most times, it's because my father pissed someone off, and the men who take me can't conceive of another way to pay him back than to kidnap a woman from her safe place.”

You give him a pointed look and guilt engulfs the discomforting curiosity weighing on his chest. Dave clears his throat.

“That's why I have to imagine Sisyphus happy,” you say softly. “Because if he can’t be happy, doomed to live the same existence over and over, then I can’t ever be free.”

“I think,” Dave says slowly, his voice a swipe of sharp nails in the silence, “that if Sisyphus is truly happy, it only means I’m a bad person.”

Your eyes blink sleepily. “What makes you say that?”

“I did this to myself,” he tells you. “Getting into this life.”

“I don't think that's necessarily true. You're a soldier. This country isn't kind to people like you.”

“No. It isn't. But I still made this choice.” Dave sweeps a hand around the room. “You're here because I killed. Hurt people. Made enemies. I’ve let myself accept the things I do, but if I let myself be happy about all of this, then…”

“You’ll begin to wonder if you're an evil man.”

“No,” he says, looking down at the scattered chives on your empty plate. “I’m already an evil man. I just don't want to be happy about it.”

“Evil people don't go around lamenting their own evilness.” You smile at him and all he thinks is, I don't deserve that. “Maybe Sisyphus isn't happy. Maybe he’s resigned. But maybe there's something in the comfort of his everyday. If he can get even a little bit faster, a bit stronger at pushing the rock, he's making it easier. Maybe everything doesn't always have to be the same.”

He's never thought about it like that. Dave sighs, rubbing his jaw. “Your dad ever tell you you're a pain in the ass?”

You chew on your lower lip and it's the first indication he’s seen that you're remotely troubled. “If he noticed, he certainly wouldn't mention it.”

Dave doesn’t like the way light flees from your smart, incisive eyes. There’s a sharpness to their edges now, and it makes him feel cold, down to the bone. “There isn't a person in the world who wouldn't notice you.”

You lift your brows. “Maybe I should inform him. He’ll be surprised to hear that.”

Dave feels his mouth twitch at the corner. “Not the best dad, then.”

“He isn't winning any awards, though it might make him work harder at it if he knew that. He likes that I behave. He likes me quiet and prim and smiling and decidedly not ruining his reputation.”

“Sounds like he wants a houseplant, not a daughter,” mutters Dave.

You hum ponderously. “Do you think he’ll be happy if I wear more green?”

Dave laughs and covers it by clearing his throat. “Yeah. Maybe. We can try when I give you back to him.”

Your eyes glitter with a thrilling air of mischief. “You can give me back to my quiet, empty home, Dave. I’ll get under my covers, pour a glass of wine, light a candle, and regret that I didn’t annoy you more.” You lift your fork in mock-toast. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” echoes Dave softly, lifting your used knife. The utensils clatter together in the air, and the room goes silent for a long while.

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #dave york x female reader #dave york #the equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #dave york x you #dave york x reader #pedro pascal fic #dave york smut

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Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

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#pedro pascal cinematic universe #dave york #marcus pike #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x dave york #marcus pike smut #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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