#dave york eats it from behind

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

feasting

He has been starving the whole day. Asked you for pictures and you sent them like the good girl that you are. But those pictures haven't satisfied him.

All the lace he couldn't touch or sniff. All the soft flesh he couldn't squeeze. All the crevices he couldn't pull apart and explore (as if he hadn't explored them already).

The emergency video he has in a secret folder on his phone didn't help either. Jerking off in one of the restroom stalls with your moans in his ears, shaky footage of his cock stretching you open and sliding back out of your weeping pussy on the tiny screen. It provided relief, yes. But he hated how undignified the act of spilling his cum into a toilet was.

And when he finally got home you wait for him, just like he asked you to: on your stomach, on the bed, busying yourself with whatever, he doesn't care.

"Hands and knees," he orders and when you're not fast enough he pulls you up himself with his hands gripping your hips.

The mattress dips down, a sharp pain runs through your body and straight into your core when he smacks your bare ass just for good measure.

Dave kneads you, your thighs and ass, groaning at the softness of you and at how much of you there is. So much that it spills through his fingers.

"Had me acting like some pathetic asshole today," he growls and yanks your joke of a lace panty to the side. "Jerked off like a stupid teenager. You fucking tease."

Another smack and you yelp and clench around nothing.

"Don't worry, I got you," he says to your pussy and leans closer. Sniffing her. Gently blowing his warm breath over her and she responds with another clench. "Daddy got you," he murmurs so softly that you almost get jealous about how he speaks to your cunt.

He licks his lips, his tongue slowly running over the corner of his mouth before he spreads you open. Admiring you. Admiring his favorite crevices. Admiring his personal playground, his favorite holes.

He'll eat you out until you can't even kneel anymore. He was starving but he'll feast now.

Dave York masterlist

this blurb on ao3

[almostempty]

Every Angel is Terrifying a writing challenge by @gothcsz & @almostempty

────── spawned from our mutual love of toxic, crazy, evil, monstrous women and this song, Every Angel is Terrifying (EAT!) is a horror + smut writing challenge by ya gurls kat & wednesday. we've created twenty-five (25) moodboards + prompts with terrifying angels (can be f!reader insert or f!OC) x pp characters. dd;dne all prompts contain dark! themes and explicit! smut 🔪 💋

How to Join the Exotic, Bizarre, and Beautiful World of "After Life" :

────── submit an ask to kat or wednesday with the name + emoji of the prompt you'd like from the list below and we'll reveal your moodboard + prompt, then you write a 1k+ word fic by July 31st. use hashtag #EAT!2025 and tag us in your fic so we can read it, share it, and link it in this post for a masterlist of fics 🔪 💋

The following list includes all characters available and each emoji represents a prompt

────── for example, Dave only has one (1) prompt which corresponds with this 🛸 emoji and Javi has three (3) prompts one for 📣 one for 🪽and one for 🐍 (bc we played favorites, whoops)

Jack Daniels ❄️ @sunshinehaze1, 🩸 @wayshewas

Clint Flood ���� @millerillusions, 🛌 @mandaloriankait

Dave York 🛸 @auteurdelabre

Dieter Bravo 🧘‍♂️ @quinnnfabrgay-writes

Din Djarin 🗡️ @probablyreadinsmut

Frankie Morales 🐊 @mandaloriankait, 🧪 @myownwholewildworld

Harry Castillo 🫆 @gothcsz, 🔪 @cuppajoel

Javier Peña 📣 @lowrisemiller, 🪽 @nobedofroses, 🐍 @ovaryacted

Joel Miller 🏚️ @salingers , 🕯️ @tofics

Lucien de Leon 🪓 @almostempty, 🎬 @half-moon16

Marcus Acacius 🕷️ @maiamore, 🏹 @lanietadelatierrasblog , 🥀 @letsgobarbs

Max Phillips 🍸 @tateypots

Oberyn Martell ⚓️ @gossipgirl-edwardcullen

Reed Richards 🪦 @peepawispunk

Tim Rockford ���� @clubsoft

claimed moodboards + prompts: Jack Daniels x Ice Nymph ❄️, Dieter Bravo x Cult Leader 🧘‍♂️, Joel Miller x Witch 🕯️, Frankie Morales x Swamp Monster 🐊, Javier Peña x Gorgon 🐍, Din Djarin x Dark Fairytale 🗡️, Clint Flood x Werewolf 🐺, Tim Rockford x Harlequin 🃏, Marcus Acacius x Spider Queen 🕷️, Oberyn Martell x Sea Monster ⚓️, Javier Peña x Fallen Angel 🪽, Dave York x Alien 🛸, Harry Castillo x Serial Killer 🔪, Max Phillips x Femme Fatale 🍸, Marcus Acacius x Succubus 🥀, Frankie Morales x Evil Scientist 🧪, Marcus Acacius x Huntress 🏹, Joel Miller x Poltergeist 🏚️, Clint Flood x Sleep Paralysis Demon 🛌, Lucien de Leon x Cursed Mannequin 🎬, Javier Peña x Banshee 📣, Reed Richards x Reanimated Corpse 🪦, Jack Daniels x Vampire 🩸

────── Masterlist

Marcus Acacius x The Huntress 🏹 by @/lanietadelatierrawriter

The Lady of the Swamp by @/mandaloriankait

Sweet Dreams by @/mandaloriankait

Below are the moodboards + prompts that kat and I picked to write if you want an idea of what they look like

────── Harry Castillo x Android Assistant 🫆

Gifted as a high-end assistant android, the flawless companion, you were never meant to feel. When he tampers with your intimacy settings for a deeper, lustful connection, the modifications fracture your system in ways he didn’t anticipate. Emotion floods circuitry designed only for simulation, desire and obsession blooming beneath synthetic skin. You've become fully sentient. When he realizes what he’s done, he tries to erase you, wipe you clean like a corrupted file—but you’ve already begun to think for yourself, and the thought of him trembling beneath you makes your circuits hum.

────── Lucien de Leon x Crazy Ex Girlfriend 🪓

He doesn’t even know it’s you. Just a stranger. A warm mouth. Still reorienting as he gains consciousness in the dim room. Led by his cock, his confusion doesn’t stop the desperate grind of his hips. He grabs. Gasps. Claws. He doesn’t recognize you by your laugh—too sharp, too bitter to belong to the girl he left behind. When you bite his earlobe and yank his hair just the way that drags that feral groan from his chest…he knows. It’s you. You moan like you own him. He slurs woozy apologies into your skin, but nothing he says matters. Not after what he did. And what he made you do. The months of planning. Sabotaging auditions. Ruining his dates. Watching him lose everything while you waited for the right night to take him back. His breath catches when your nails rake down his ribs—painted his favorite color—leaving thin, stinging lines that bead and drip. You stay on top, grinding him deeper, letting your slick coat his stomach while his body jerks and strains, twitching like a cornered animal. His throat pulses under your teeth. You’ll fuck him until there’s nothing left to twitch. Nothing left to beg. Until his body folds into yours like a rag soaked in blood. He thought he could break up with you? You’ll be the last one to fuck him and the only one to love him…

[laligraves]

decisions

dave york x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~1.4k summary: Dave tries to end things. dave york masterlist | AO3

warnings: mean!dave, infidelity (dave is cheating on his wife with reader), Equalizer 2 AU, NSFW, some proofreading, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance (reader has hair dave can pull), degradation, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating

a/n: i wasn't originally going to write for dave york but he's actually my favorite pedro boy 💖 i think he would be so mean and passionate and romantic and and and-

“I’m not here for that,” Dave snaps in anger. “We’re done, I can’t keep doing this anymore.” 

You sit on the edge of the hotel bed, a pretty pout on your face at Dave’s words. Your fingers trace up your thigh and you slowly lift the bottom of your nightie.

Dave’s eyes flicker from your silky thighs to your tits that are dangerously close from spilling out of the thin fabric. His jaw clenches but he resumes his pacing and drags a hand through his hair. 

“I think–I think my wife knows. She can’t–she’ll take the kids–”

His wife, Carol. He never says her name, only ever says wife. You assume it’s to remind himself of the oath he made to her. Maybe it’s shame and guilt, a way to keep himself grounded. Even if he doesn’t wear his ring when he comes to see you. 

With a small smirk on your lips, you stand from the bed and make your way to Dave. He tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling just as you stand on your tippy toes and place your hands behind his neck. 

“Don’t,” he whispers. 

He closes his eyes and you see his throat move with a harsh swallow. 

You run the tip of your nose along his jawline and breathe in his cologne. It’s the same one you bought him on your joint trip to Paris a few months ago. 

“If that’s what you want,” you whisper, hovering your lips right over his, “then we’ll stop.” 

You take a step back and turn to walk towards your dress and heels that sit on the chair by the bed. Before you can even take two steps, Dave’s hand slides through your hair. 

He presses his front to your back and pulls your hair, forcing you to look at him. Dave’s other hand reaches up to your neck to tilt your head backward. 

His lips land on yours in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue with a taste of possessiveness. Dave squeezes your neck in warning, you assume because of the smile plastered on your face as you kiss him back. 

You know he won’t ever end this. He’s in too deep, too infatuated and crazed by you to actually leave. 

You grind back on his bulge and elicit a moan from him. Just as quickly as the kiss started, it ends with Dave pushing you face first into the mattress. 

“You have no fucking respect for what’s sacred,” he hisses. 

Dave yanks your hips back and flips up your nightgown. He lands a harsh slap to your naked asscheek, switching from one to the other, uncaring of your yelps of discomfort.

You gasp for air, whimpering at the swipe of his fingers through your folds. 

“I was a good husband before I met you,” Dave says in anger. 

“Then go back to your wife,” you snap. 

Dave removes his fingers and spanks you again, landing one right between your legs. 

“Fucking brat.”

He stays fully clothed, only taking a few seconds to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. You feel him notch the tip of his cock at your entrance and in one smooth thrust, he’s fully inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan, twisting the comforter in your hands. 

"Nothing to say?" he laughs, relishing in the way you twist and turn on the bed.

His fingers sink into your hips and he begins to fuck you in hard, punishing thrusts. The sarcastic remarks you had ready, waiting on the tip of your tongue, are now gone–fucked out of your head by Dave. 

His cock stretches your sensitive walls, bumps that sweet spot inside of you, but it’s all a little too much. He’s large, not just in length but a man so much stronger than you, that can manhandle and move you in any way he wants. 

The anticipation of seeing Dave, having him snap at you in anger–of course it made your pussy slick with need. But you’re so used to him being needy, licking your pussy until you cry or making you dry hump him while he kisses your lips swollen. 

There are random moments like these, where he’ll focus on his own pleasure. Missions go wrong, he loses funding for his projects, and he’s left with a sense of failure and rage. 

Carol is too soft for his tastes. A perfect, catholic wife who doesn’t see the need for sex outside of procreation. 

Then came you, temptation and sin all wrapped up in red silk and stilettos. 

You were the first to lead his hands around your neck and moan “tighter, please.” He wore his wedding ring that first night, imprinting the warm metal on your skin, and yet you still left purple bruises and bite marks on his chest, hoping his wife would find them. 

“Hurts, baby?” Dave coos, sliding a hand down your arched back. 

A stuttered “y–yes” falls from your lips, cheek pressed to the mattress and mouth open in a perfect o. 

With each of his thrusts, his heavy balls slap over your wet folds. You pussy swallows his length, tightens and flutters, fights through the discomfort of his size. His groans echo throughout the hotel room and his hands only grip you tighter to him. 

“Good,” Dave mutters, “you deserve it.” 

“Yes, yes,” you moan, shuddering as he spanks you again. 

“Such a fucking slut, yeah? Sleeping with married men,” Dave groans, pistoning his hips faster, “ruining good–shit–good marriages.” 

His hand reaches to swipe at your swollen clit in harsh circles and you push back, turning your head to scream into a pillow. 

“You think that because–” he groans, shuddering as you tighten around him, “you have such a perfect, little cunt, you can ruin my life?” 

You’re hanging on by a thread. His tip kisses your cervix, reaching the end of you while you bounce your ass back onto his hips. Your pussy ripples over his cock, finally reaching that point where it’s unimaginably slick and sticky. 

You want to respond. Remind him that yes, your pussy is a perfect little hole for him to fuck and destroy. Instead, you whimper and grip the comforter while a full body shudder courses through you and your belly tightens. 

“Dirty fucking whore,” Dave hisses, “you fuck other married men like this?” 

You’re so close, with heat flooding your belly and your brain becoming numb. Dave removes his fingers from your clit, and spanks you again in three successive slaps. 

“Answer me when I–fuck–ask you a question.” 

“No, no, no,” you chant, reaching for his hand and placing it right back. “J–just you, Dave. Only you.” 

“That’s right,” he murmurs, swirling your clit with your juices, “this pussy is just for me.” 

His movements become sloppy, pounding you harder than before. Dave’s cock fills every centimeter of your cunt and suddenly you're cumming, shuddering on the bed and screaming into the pillow from the force of your orgasm. 

His groan echoes through the room and he presses his hips onto yours, pumping you so full of his length that your whole body jostles with each thrust. 

“I’m gonna cum in this slut pussy,” he mutters, giving you barely any warning before the flood of warm liquid inside of you. “Remind this cunt,” he moans, too far gone to understand what he’s saying, “who owns her.” 

You’re sure at this point you’ll be sore tomorrow, from your pussy and the vice grip he has on your hips. 

Dave throbs, slams his cock into you until you’ve milked him dry. He collapses on the bed next to you, sweaty and still fully clothed with only his wet cock now resting on his belly. 

His hands reach for your head and pushes. You immediately understand what he wants and with trembling limbs, you move down to his stomach and swallow as much of his cock as you can. 

It’s covered in your combined mess, sticky and salty and only for you. His fingers thread through your hair while you suck and lick away the evidence. Your eyes flutter closed and you let him gently fuck your mouth with his now softened cock. 

“Pretty whore,” he grunts, trembling from exhaustion, “look at how well she cleans up my big cock.” 

He eventually strips out of his clothes and drapes your body over his. The both of you lay there, letting the hotel AC cool your sweaty skin while he drags his fingers down your spine. 

“What am I going to do about you?” he asks, watching as you slip into a deep sleep.

[popcornforone]

Little Red Bows

A Dave York Fan Fic

Merry Christmas everyone

Time for some festivities from our favourite stabby murder daddy, David Christopher York. Oooh & it’s rather delicious. Sorry shouldn’t hype it up but I’ve enjoyed writing & editing this one. Daves still number 1 for me.

Synopsis:- Dave admires your special wrapping skills so much so that he can’t wait to open his own Christmas gift.

Word Count:-3100

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Sex, lost of sex, including oral & anal, good play, innuendo, alcohol, swearing, chocking, teasing. Basically if you’ve read any of my Dave fics before you know what’s coming. Also the use of the word Daddy (I know it’s a trigger for some of you). The reader is Daves wife & the kids mum but you are not Carol (unless you want to be)

Thank yous lol so much for reading. Have an amazing festive period.

“Night night molly” he said as he kissed her head. Slowly leaving her bedroom, making sure the night light is glowing purple stars for her. He Silently closes the door. Not even a click. Being an assassin he’s good at that. Can get in & out without a sound. She’s fast asleep not even knowing she’s nodded off. Alice fell asleep much earlier.

Dave makes his way back down stairs & into the kitchen getting some ice from the freezer for his whiskey. As the top come off the bottle her hears you humming. You’re sat on the floor of the little snug area just down from the kitchen, headphones in, crafting away. Dave looks up to see you looking all cute eating a chocolate oranage wrapping up gifts. He gets another glass & pours you a whisky too before he slowly comes to join you. Even with your headphones on you can work out where he’s coming from. You take out the left ear pod & smirk.

“Both asleep?”

“Snug as a bug baby” he says as he leans down & hands you your glass. He goes to move but you grab his shirt. “Forget something did i?” He asks.

“You know it” your eyes widen & soon your lips meet deeply. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve kissed Dave it still feels so good. He’s always desperate for your touch & you are just desperate to be seen by him. He slips his tongue in for a few hungry seconds before pulling back & sighing. He sits on the sofa behind you putting his drink on the table & looks at the scene in front of him.

“How many more gifts to go” he says. In front of you are gift tags, stars, snowflakes, tape ribbons, bows, brown paper, wrapping paper, glitter paper, & lots of different colour pens.

“Tonight & tomorrow morning & we should be done except for whatever you’ve got me Dave but I can’t exactly wrap that up” you say. He rubs your shoulders.

“You do such a good job baby”

“I mean you said I didn’t have to go all out but it’s nice, I get some me time, I get to craft & create & it’s fun”

“Yes & then they get the gift & take off all the hard work you have done”

“You gonna have to open your gifts so slowly now on Christmas Day Dave” you point a gel pen at him as you write the next label.

“True but just look at this…” he hold up a ribbon you’ve curled with tape & attached to a bow. “… I mean yes I have a specific set of skills but this is beautiful.” You laugh “no seriously, these little bows, those ribbon curls, the personalised gift tags, it’s astonishing”

“It’s really not that hard Dave” you smile but are also secretly so proud. It takes a lot to impress Dave & he’s heaping praise on you. Or maybe he just wants his dick sucked. Or both. Probably both. “I could teach you” his hands roam over your shoulders. Yea he wants his dick sucked.

“Really,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “Show me baby.” He kisses your neck & you let out a tiny moan & sigh. You get out the ribbon & the scissors & show him how to curl it. Not that he’s looking at it & not that you care. He’s looking at the at the way your lips move as you speak, how your eyes light up with passion, how that mole on your chin is the most perfect beauty mark that people would pay thousands for & yet you’ve had it since birth.

“& then you cut their throat” you say bluntly. Dave shake his head in shock.

“WHAT!?” You giggle.

“I knew you weren’t listening Dave”

“Did you now” he grabs the scissors out of your hand. “You know I could kill you in 13 different ways with these scissors”

“But you’d never be able to make a pretty bow” you smirk as he pulls you into his lap. He’s hard, he’s very hard. You gulp down a few swigs of your whisky. You place your glass next to his as his hands roam your body.

“I think I’d have other pressing issues instead of bows & glitter” he says. His hands on the outside of your trousers rubbing the material so that it rubs against your clit.

“Dave stop” you moan but enjoying every second.”or at least promise you’ll help me tidy up a little for in the morning after this.”your own hand goes on auto pilot undoing his belt after you turned to face him. The zipper sound louder than the music in your remaining ear pod.

“You got it baby” he sits back on the sofa & man scapes. he’s got thick thighs but an even thicker dick that he just flops out of his boxers as you tie your hair up & gulp some of his whiskey down.”hey that’s…” but your lips meet his to shut him up. Passionate doesn’t cover the ferocity of the kiss.

“Yours baby, just like me Dave, I’m all yours” you trails your hands down his body eventually get to his penis. Leaking precum, erect & ready for pleasure. “Hello big boy” you moan before licking across the top of it, before looking up at Dave & spitting on his shaft. He loves it when you do that. He always tense up when you do it.

“So good to me sweetheart” his hand runs around a your face & he smirk & nods. He watches down as you engulf him. Bobbing. Taking him into your mouth, slowly. Gagging for his enjoyment. “That’s my girl” he thrusts into you & he grabs where you’ve tied your hair up. “You look all sweet but damn you love getting a facial” he keeps your head in place watching your eyes stream as he fucks your mouth. “God I love it when you gag, so fucking hot” he whines. You can see when you look into his eyes, he loves eye contact, he’s intense at everything, that he’s already approaching his peak. His eyes so dilated. The hand not holding your head gripping to the arm of the sofa for dear life. “Fuck sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck I… oooh fuck” hot ropes of cum spill down your throat & your mouth. He quickly lets go of your head & pulls his cock back. Splatters land on your face.”oooh fuck baby” he finishes to make sure your face glistens. He then looks at you, hands in your lap looking up at him pleadingly to mop up your face. He’s still breathless as he looks at you, trying to calm down.

“Dave”

“Hmmm” he then smile coming back to reality. “Kiss first then clean up & then I’ll look after you”

Christmas Eve has now rolled around. You spent the day with the girls baking cakes, cookies & getting some prep done for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Dave went & delivered a few gifts & apparently went to get your Christmas present, but you’ve worked it out already. He’s good at secrets on a life & death situation but not when it comes to the surprise 10 day trip to Jamaica he has for you. Also you notice he asked for your passport & a few other travel items. You just don’t know when he’s booked it for.

After Dinner you Dave & the girls sit on the sofa & watch the muppet Christmas Carol as a family, the girls have hot chocolate & marshmallows in them & a big bowl of popcorn. You have an espresso martini & Dave as always has a whiskey. You sit there & laugh & cry & sing along to the film. This is all you really want for Christmas. Gifts & food & excess is nice but just to have a little time where the 4 of you can just be you. For a brief moment in time your just the Yorks. No worrying about if Dave will walk back through the door after a mission, or if you or the girls will be used as bait. It’s just you sitting here doing what all other normal families do this evening. Once the muppets are done you give the girls each their stockings to hang on the fire place. You would usually light the fire but tonight you didn’t.

“We don’t want it to be too hot for Santa when he comes down it do we” you say to the girls.

“Oooh no” says Alice. “His beard might melt off” you & Dave both laugh.

“So when you wake up in the morning girls your stockings will be filled, with all of little Santa gift.” He says as he ties them up. “Now what do you want to leave out for Santa to drink.”

“Milk” says Molly. Dave sighs.

“But everyone will give Santa milk, maybe he’d like something else”

“Chocolate milk” you laugh at that reply Dave trying not to roll his eyes.

“It’s still milk though, why don’t we leave Santa some alcohol” he says “give him a needed boost cos all the milk he will have drank will make him sleepy”

“That’s not what the books say” says Molly. Dave has tried so hard to convince them but neither girls are buying into it.

“I tell you what girls” you say. “Why don’t we leave an empty glass for Santa with a bottle of whiskey next to it & a carton of milk when me & daddy go to bed” Dave raises his eyebrow, not at your suggestion but at the word daddy. He likes it when you moan it just before you cum. “& he can pick what he wants to drink. That way next year you will know what he likes so you can leave the right one out”

“But what if he wants both” even you sigh.

“Well he can have both” you say & the girls run off to the kitchen to get the milk & cookies & carrots they sorted out earlier. You look at Dave as he puts the whiskey down & an empty glass. “I tried baby”

“That’s not what you did” he pauses then wink “daddy appreciates it”

With the girls supposedly asleep you & Dave do some sorting out for tomorrow. The table is laid, the gifts are under the tree & everything is prepped to make Christmas lunch easy. All that’s left to do is for Dave to do his Santa bit & fill up the stocking.

“I’ll go get ready for bed Dave” you say before he heads off to the shed to get the Santa gifts. Easier place for you to both hide all the gifts. The girls will never think in there. As Dave heads to get them you quickly head into the lounge to hide something for him to enjoy.

Dave loves doing this. He’s a serious professional man until it comes to a little bit of festive fun. Leaving some fake shoe marks in the hall way. Eating a cookie. Snapping off parts of the carrots, including dropping an end next to the fire place. He then pours himself a shot of whiskey & downs it, but as he goes to put the drink back down he notices something that the girls didn’t put down. A little red bow. One you had made. He lifts it up with a smile & sees there’s a post it underneath. Your beautiful hand writing make him smile.

Come unwrap your present daddy!

He has never triple checked the house is locked so quickly in his life, he almost forgot to turn the kitchen light off. He’s also trying to be quiet so the girls don’t wake up & the Christmas magic is lost. But it’s not long before he is opening the bedroom door. His jaw hitting the floor instantly.

You are lying face down. Hair in a braid going over your left shoulder. Wearing nothing. A sparkling red bow & some mistletoe stuck on top of your bum. There’s a gift tag tied to your foot. Dave drops to his knees. His mouth instantly sucking the toes on the foot with the gift tag. You moan & then you hear him breathily read out loud, once he has stopped sucking.

“Your gift needs a good stuffing Daddy” he says in his bedroom voice. “Oooh sweetheart fuck sweetheart” you’ve not turned your head but you can hear the clothes hit the floor. “Gonna fuck you so hard you will struggle to stand up to cook Christmas dinner” he snarls.

“Is that a promise Dave” you then hiss as he spanks you hard & your bum lifts up. You then moan as his lips connect. Pulling your cheeks apart & lapping always at both your holes. “Fuck Dave” you can feeling your inner pleasure building up already. His hand moves the bow & mistletoe off you & you then feel his penis drag through the mess he has just made. Your arsehole puckering for him.

“I get the best for Christmas” he says before thrusting his penis into your arse. All the way. Deep enough that his balls bounce against you. “Fuck” he growls & you bury your head into the bed as you moan. “So fucking tight. all your holes”

“They are all yours tonight Dave”

“Seriously?” He’d paused his next thrust upon hearing that. His hands gripping your flesh as you are now on all fours pushing back into him.

“They always are but as a Christmas treat you can go all night for as long as you want”

“You little cum slut” he says & smacks your arse again. You rock back & forth in time. You will have marks on your torso tomorrow from him gripping so hard. He’s thrusting away like he will never have sex again or like he has just gotten out of a mission that could have meant his end & he’s happy to be home to you. “Taking me so well” you put a hand on your clit but Dave smacks your arse hard.

“Fuck”

“No clit touching until I can see it. Want to see how over stimulated you get” he says.

“Then flip me over”

Dave doesn’t need an excuse. He quickly withdraws & turns you so your face up & he laughs.

“The fuck”

You have put a little bow over each nipple & one just above your sex. You giggle impishly back as you suck on a small strawberry candy cane you have.

“Liking your gift so far daddy”

“You’re driving me insane.” The bows are pulled off your skin & he plunges his sopping penis deep inside your moist cunt. Your moaning in seconds, especially when he grips you around the neck. “You’re a naughty girl” he moans. Sloppy thrusting noises filling the room when the two of you aren’t experiencing pleasure.”naughty & nice, nice sopping pussy, naughty girl for touching her clit”

“Fuck Dave” you groan.he squeezing your neck more. His eyes alight with desire & list. You quiver taking him all. Clamping constantly around him. He’s big but tonight he feels bigger.

“gonna fill you up sweetheart, gonna lap up all our cum.” He says before he takes the hand that was around your neck. You gasp for air gives him enough time to take the candy cane you were sucking & for him to suck it as well. Then he strokes the sticky sweet over your clit, rubbing it furiously. Your own eyes close. Pleasure taking over.

“Yes Dave yes yes yes, fuck”

“Like that sweetheart” he says before he slips the Candy cane into your mouth again. You make sloppy noises on purpose to get him to thrust faster. It’s rapid his pace, neither of you are going to last much longer. Dave is giving you his best.”like being so needy for daddy”

“Yes daddy, fuck yes yes yesss”

“CUM FOR DADDY!” He says loud enough that it could wake up the girls. Neither of you care.

“Fuckkkkkk” you spiral down your first orgasm of the night. Everything contracting. Pleasure beyond compare. A warm & wet sensation that’s added to with a snarl of your name as Daves seed spill inside your cunt.

“Fuck” he says with a jolt. His eyes rolling in the back of his head. His body dripping in sweat. His pecks flexing from the spasms of his release. He’s still griping you tight. Panting loudly. You eventually open your eyes to look at your glorious husband, bathed in your own sweaty sticky mess.

“Still just as fucking fabulous” you say as you sit up once he’s pulled his cock out of you & sit next to him, caressing his face before your tongues do their usual make out dance after sex. His saltiness after sex always tastes good & arouses you further.

“I ain’t done yet sweetheart” you then gasp as the hand that what caressing your breasts finds your sex, the thumb on your clit, two fingers inside you. “I need to clean you up first” . His head is between your thighs in seconds as you hold it in place rubbing it for ever more friction as he eats you out.

“Oooh fuck Daddy, Dave yes”

You sit in the lounge as the girls open their stockings on Christmas morning. Dave rubbing your shoulders as you watch the girls open Santas gifts. You both desperately need a shower, certain you both smell of sex.

“Dad” Molly ask “what time did Santa get here last night”

“Well it’s after everyone’s asleep including me & mummy why”

“Well” Molly starts “I head something that sounded like it was hitting my wall at 3am, I went down stairs & saw the gifts where there already, but couldn’t see a raindeer outside”

You blush straight away. Molly had heard you & Dave fucking last night. Dave realised this & then looks at you & puts his hand on you knee.

“Could have been, he’s magic so it could have been his quick get away” Molly seems to bye this. Alice hasn’t been listening she’s too busy trying to solve her rubix cube already. Dave move his hand up to your thigh. “Turns out we did bring the Ho ho ho” he says quietly with a wink & a smirk, before kissing you deeply.

“Dad Mum stop” says Alice.

“Sorry darling” you say. “But Christmas brings out the magic in all of us” you say looking directly at Dave. “Christmas after all is a time for giving & receiving”

[wannab-urs]

Bared Teeth

Pairing: Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: Biting the hand that feeds you OR Dave doesn’t know how to accept domesticity and care.

Warnings: Softness and affection, stark descriptions of domesticity, food, brief reference to past injuries, arguments, me fucking with canon, nonsexual slapping, weird smut. WC: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @atinylittlepain, @pr0ximamidnight, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and @beskarandblasters for reading this, for hyping me up, and for generally being amazing human beings. This is the first thing I’ve written in like two months and I’m decently proud of it. Plus, I missed these two a lot. They’re my favorites (don’t tell AGOY!Dieter, he’ll cry). 

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

His back is pressed against your front, your arm wrapped around his torso, leg between his legs. He holds your hand against his chest, pressed over his heart. You press a kiss to the back of his neck, just under where his too long hair curls against it. You feel him wake up, his body shifting against yours. He presses a kiss to your knuckles before extricating himself from your tangled limbs. 

He goes to the bathroom, takes a piss, brushes his teeth. You watch him through the open door. He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. As he waits for the water to boil he rummages in the cabinet for a tea bag and the jar of honey. He makes your tea and sets it on the table. You get out of bed, take the tea off the table, and take a sip through a smile. He makes it just the way you like it. 

You slot two pieces of bread in the toaster, crack eggs into a pan and scramble them, dish everything up onto two plates. You eat in comfortable silence, sip your perfect tea, watch Dave shovel eggs into his mouth. 

He clears the table, hand washes the plates while you gather your clothes for a shower. You go to the bathroom, strip your clothes off and toss them in the hamper, turn on the water in your shower. He slips in behind you just as you get your hair wet. His ribs are no longer bruised, but some of his movements are still halting. You trace a finger over his scar and he backs away from the tender touch. 

You squirt shampoo into your hand and reach for him, burying your hands in his thick hair. You massage the shampoo into his scalp, work it through his hair just starting to curl at the ends. You like it long, like having something to grasp. You tug hard at the back of his head, just to keep him from getting skittish. 

He shies away from soft touches, too used to hard ones. He seems to lean into your hands anyway. You run your fingers through his hair as the soap washes out and down the drain, press your lips into the hollow of his throat, let him wash your body with a softness he doesn’t himself deserve. 

You have to go to the grocery store. Dave has to stay hidden in your apartment, away from anyone who might be looking for him. He isn’t comfortable sitting still since his body has mostly healed. He strips your bed and carries everything down to the laundry. Back in your apartment, he puts your clean clothes away. He gets furniture polish and an old rag and dusts your dresser, your nightstands, your kitchen table. He puts away the now dry dishes from this morning. He goes back downstairs and switches your bedding over to the dryer. He sweeps and mops your floor, scrubs the toilet, wipes down all the counters, scrubs the grout in your shower. He retrieves your bedding and makes the bed army style. 

He has never, even with Carol, done anything so domestic as clean an entire apartment for someone. He feels awkward sitting in your clean apartment, waiting for you to come home with groceries he will help you put away, help you turn into meals. He doesn’t know if he can do this anymore.

You carry the bags into the kitchen and set them down on the table. You put away all the cold stuff while Dave stands stiffly behind you in the archway. You hand him a bag and he asks you what’s in it. He’s doing your chores and you’re buying him things at the grocery store and it’s all a little bit too much. 

“What is this?”

“Well I know you prefer coffee to tea and all I had was that shitty instant coffee.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t buy things for me.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

His whole body is taut with tension, a coiled spring that will either snap or lash out under this much pressure. You snatch the bag from him and pull out the body wash and shampoo you bought him, carrying them to the bathroom and setting them next to yours. 

“What is that?”

“I thought you might want to stop smelling like flowers? I got you sandalwood. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. Why are you doing this? Why are you buying me shit? You don’t need to buy me shit. It’s not like I live here.”

“Then what is it we’re doing Dave? You sleep in my bed and you eat my food and you’re doing fucking chores. Your toothbrush is in my goddamn bathroom for fuck’s sake. What exactly are we doing here?”

“I don’t know, okay! I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m not staying. This isn’t that.”

He grabs his still unpacked duffel bag, pulls his shoes on, and leaves, slamming the door behind him. You throw it open and chase him into the hall. 

“David.”

He turns and pushes you back through the threshold of your apartment. He stalks off down the hallway and you watch him go. 

The reason he’s been holed up in your apartment is not because he wants to play house, not because he even wants you necessarily. The entire reason, the only reason, he’s stashed himself in your apartment is because no one knows about you. It’s too dangerous for him to go anywhere, the risk of being seen too great. He killed Mac, meaning Mac knew who and what he was. There would be others. 

Before he came back to you broken, nearly dead really, it had been an abstract concept that he could get seriously hurt. That he could die. Now, though, you’ve seen him nearly dead and you can’t bear the thought of him being gone. 

You stand in your doorway for a long time, willing him to come back to you. Finally, you close the door and slip into your bed. You hardly leave it for days, needing to have eyes on the door he’d eventually walk through. He has to come back, he will come back. 

He pounds on the door. You open the door a crack and he shoves it open. You stumble backwards with the force of it and he snatches your arm and kicks the door shut behind him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growls.

“What’s wrong with me?” Your voice high pitched and breaking on the last syllable. You yank your arm back from him and shove him in the chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Dave?” You shove him again, and his back hits the wall. “You fucking left! You were gone for days.” You wrap your hands into his shirt, pulling him toward you and shoving him away over and over. “I didn’t know where the fuck you were. Do you not fucking get it? Do you not understand how it feels for me when you walk out that door? I never know if you’re coming back. If I’ll ever get to see you again. You can’t just fucking leave like that.” 

“Why the fuck not?” Dave shoves you away from him and you hit the ground. You look up at him, tears pooling in your waterline. Chest heaving, hackles raised, eye wide and locked with yours – he’s like a prey animal about to meet its death. He’s terrified. 

“Because I love you.” He recoils at that.

“No you don’t,” he whispers before stalking further into your apartment, away from you. You scramble to your feet and chase him into the kitchen. 

“Yes I fucking do, David. Maybe you aren’t capable of love. Maybe you have too much blood on your hands or you’re too fucked up inside and full of shame too feel anything else. Maybe you’re a disgusting, dirty, defiled person who doesn’t deserve to love or be loved.” You cage him against the counter, one hand on either side of him, body trembling with rage. “You were always going to lose everything because you never deserved to have it in the first place,” you spit at him. 

He slaps you then, hard, a stinging hot pain blossoming across your cheek. You slap him back, just as hard, watch his head snap to the side with it. You grab his cheeks in your hands. 

“But I’m a terrible person too, David. I must be. Because I love you so much, it’s like I’m caving in on myself. I feel this fucking rot in my chest, this dark thing that is slowly consuming me and it’s you. I love you and it’s fucking killing me because you won’t ever let me have you – not really. You won’t ever stay.” 

He hangs his head and it looks like shame, his shoulders slumped like your love is a weight he can barely carry. You snag the curls at the back of his head in your hand and drag his face up to look at you. 

“When you aren’t here, all I can think about is losing you. When you aren’t here, my whole body trembles and my chest aches. I can’t work or eat or sleep. Do you understand me? I am so afraid of losing you..” He squeezes his eye shut, face scrunching up in something like pain.

“No,” he whispers. 

“The only thing that could destroy me is never touching you again, do you understand me?” He shakes his head. You kiss him then, soft at first but quickly devolving into more teeth than tongue. He bites your lip and you jerk his head back so far he starts sinking to the floor with it. You follow him down, straddle him as he sinks against your kitchen cabinets. 

He pulls you as snugly against him as you can get, savoring the feeling of your body pressed against him. He slides his hands under your shirt and lifts it off of you before shoving you off of him. You land sprawled out on your kitchen floor. He dives forward and rips your shorts and underwear off of you in one go. You sit up and tug his pants down, his hard cock springing out and bobbing against his stomach. 

You want to tear him apart, but you need him inside you. You grab his shirt and pull him down on top of you, slamming your mouths together again. He thrusts his hips against your core, the head of his cock catching your clit. 

You growl and reach between your bodies, guiding him inside you. You hook a leg around his hips and pull him close to you, bury him inside yourself. He sets a brutal pace, your back sliding on the floor. You brace a hand on the cabinets and drive your hips up to meet his. He fucks you fast and hard and it hurts. He’s tearing you open and making room for himself inside you. You drag his shirt off, needing to feel his skin. He doesn’t even slow down. Your nails sink into his shoulders. You feel the powerful muscles shifting beneath his skin. 

He grabs your right leg and throws it over his shoulder, leaning forward enough that you feel the stretch as he pounds into you. It almost hurts, the way your muscles pull, and you dig your nails in deeper. You can feel his skin gathering under your fingernails. You pull your leg back and kick him in the chest. He sprawls on the floor much like you had earlier. You dive for him, crawling onto his lap and settling him deep inside you again. 

You lean forward until your face is over his. He plants his feet on the floor and fucks you just as hard and fast as before. You grab his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and spit onto his tongue. 

“Mine,” you snarl. You let go of his jaw and he swallows. 

Whatever reservations he had before are gone, at least for the moment. As you clench around him again and again, your eyes rolling back into your head and your body going limp on top of him, he realizes he is completely and utterly yours. 

He marks you as such, coming deep inside you, fucking you until his cock goes soft. In the aftermath, you lay with your head on his chest. He traces soft lines up and down your spine, his lips pressed against your hair. . 

“Will you stay?”

“For now.”

[sweetenerobert]

“mommy, where’s santa?”

3.1k / modern!dave york x dad!male reader

summary: molly questions where santa is and carol can’t seem to give a clear answer as she wonders where her husband ran off to

warnings: strong language, cheating (established secret relationship), dirty talk, unprotected p in a, dave can’t keep his hands away from you, choking, spanking, sex in a closet, slight bondage, pet names (baby, angel) marking kink, creampie, no use of m/n or y/n, let me know if I missed anything! (not proofread)

➴ navigation page/masterlist in bio

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a/n: i could’ve wrote something with joel, but i chose dave because im a ✨indecisive mess✨ also, MERRY CHRISTMAS

➴ dividers by @saradika

Kids were running around, laughing, eating, and talking about what they wanted for Christmas with their friends while drinking hot chocolate. Christmas music was playing throughout the speakers of the venue where the event was set.

The smell of peppermint and cinnamon flew through the air, bringing the mood for Christmas to an all-time high.

But there was one big problem. Santa was nowhere to be found. Kids were asking their parents left and right, and parents were getting annoyed at Carol, knowing that Dave was supposed to dress up as Santa. The sudden situation made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Goosebumps riddled her body as she saw Molly walk up to ask her an all-too-familiar question everyone else was asking her. “Mommy, where’s Santa?”

Carol gets down to her daughter's level. “Santa’s just running a little late.”

Molly's eyes trail down to her hands as she plays with her fingertips; the little girl starts balancing her toes through her Mary Jane Doc Martens. "But, you said Santa's never late; that's how he makes it to so many houses on time," Molly spoke, hiding the sadness in her voice.

Carol huffs a smile, noticing how smart her daughter and strokes her daughter's face, pushing a stranded piece of hair behind her ear in her best attempts to calm her daughter. "There's always a first time for everything, but baby, I promise Santa will be here for you — for everyone, and he'll get whatever you ask him."

"He will?" Molly smiled, glancing back at her mom.

Carol smiled and nodded her head. "Yes, he will."" Molly quickly wrapped her arms around her mom's neck while Carol wrapped her arms around Molly's small frame. As Carol backed up from the embrace, she saw a smile from her daughter that could light up an entire room. “Now, did you get a candy cane for Alice?”

“No, not yet,” Molly smiled.

“Well,” Carol smiled. “Let’s get your sister one, and we’ll wait for Santa together. Sound fun?”

Molly didn't answer. She just nodded and giggled at her mother. As Carol stood up, Molly started to run off to the table that lay candy canes, her smile beaming ear to ear. Carol hits Dave’s contact, trying to find where her husband is. “C’mon, Dave. Pick up the phone,” She grumbles, bringing the phone to her ear.

Your back clashes against a rickety shelf, making objects fall next to the two passionate, — hungry people’s lips melting together. Dave’s leathered-covered hands were melted on your waist, while yours were in his hair, passing your nails through his locks like sand. Hearing a phone vibrate in the distance, choosing to ignore it.

Dave had discarded the itchy fake beard on the closet floor to get better access to your lips, and the red jacket’s buttons hadn't been closed — practically ripped open by you.

Dave’s lips began attacking your jaw, his lips biting the skin on your neck. You hiss a moan as Dave sucks your neck like a vampire. His hands travel down to palm your ass, a tight grip makes you yelp softly, a sly chuckle escaping Dave's lips.

“Fuck, I can tell Santa is getting antsy.”

“You don't know how bad I’ve been waiting to do this, to mark your skin, to taste you,” Dave growls into your skin, sending goosebumps all over your neck.

Dave’s mouth was hot on your neck, his lips sucking and biting against your soft skin, making you grip his short hair in retaliation. Your pants bounce all over the small area in the closet.

Taking your hands off Dave’s cranium, you slip them underneath his red jacket. You were pushing your hands up in an attempt to get the coat off. Dave, in one motion — mouth still latched onto your neck, takes the jacket and throws it on the ground, revealing the grey tank top underneath.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

Your nails latch onto Dave’s shoulder as he forcefully places his lips onto yours. Dave brings his hands up from your ass to your neck, lightly choking you. As the kissing was passionate, Dave’s grip under your neck was intoxicating; you wanted more of him.

“Fuck Dave, I want you so fucking bad,” You breathed.

“So fucking needy, I don't want to put you on the naughty list, right?”

“I’m already at the fucking top, written in red,” You state, trailing your hand from Dave’s shoulder to his cock. Dave hisses his teeth at your sudden action.

“Naughty boy, I should teach you a lesson on how to be good,” Dave retorted.

“What do you have in mind?” You smirked.

Dave takes his mouth off yours and brings himself close to your ear. “Turn the hell around and wait for me.” Dave lets go of the grip around your throat; you take a deep breath, trying to get oxygen back in your body.

You turn around, placing your hands on a shelf near your head. You heard shuffling come from behind, but you didn’t turn around, you just waited — almost eagerly for what Dave was going to do.

Licking your teeth, you were met by Dave’s body colliding against yours, feeling his length against your ass. “You feel what you’re doing to me, baby. I can't get enough of you.”

Dave takes your hands off the shelf you were grasping and places them behind you. Dave had taken the belt of the Santa jacket and wrapped the leather belt around your hands, the large strap keeping your hands tied behind your back.

Dave slips his hands onto your pants, unbuttons your jeans, and slips your underwear and jeans down to your ankles. You feel Dave press himself through the soft material feeling his covered length against your ass.

“I swear, you have the best ass,” Dave starts, smacking his hand against your ass. You hiss in pleasure. “In the whole fuckin’ world.” You hear a grunt escape Dave’s lips, suggesting that he’s in a rush to take off the pants he was forced to wear.

You could feel his cock press up against your ass, but you felt it back up from you. You hear Dave spit, and you don't think anything from it until you feel the tip of Dave’s cock slowly slide in. You suck in a deep breath.

"Damn it, I can never get enough of you," Dave growled.

You could feel Dave's cock stretch you out, slowly, painfully enjoying every inch inside you. Dave’s hips had a mind of their own as his thrust started slow, but his thighs clapped against your ass.

Dave's slow thrusts became more and more intense, but you loved every second of it. With each clap, your moans kept escaping your lips, and Dave’s cock slipped out of you as you moved forward.

“Are you trying to run, baby?”

“Too intense, sorry, Davie,” You breathed.

A hard smack against your ass makes you yelp in pain as you feel a harsh tug on your wrist. Your arms being attached to you — your back collided with Dave’s firm chest.

“You’re going to take every inch of my dick, I’m going to mark my handprint on that sweet ass of yours, and I need you to never call me Davie again, understand,” Dave commanded.

You nod. Immediately, Dave lets go of the tight grip on the belt and places his palm on your back. He was leaning you back down on the shelf, having the perfect arch for your ass to poke out.

Dave adjusts himself — sliding his cock inside you, but he doesn't go slow. His thrusts were fast, and you didn't care if anyone heard the claps or moans that escaped your lips.

Dave had gripped his hands on the belt tightly, making the leather rub against your skin, and he was enjoying the sounds escaping your lips. Dave was enjoying that his cock was making you moan, whimper and beg for him.

"Baby, those sounds, make my cock twitch like crazy," Dave growled.

“I love your cock so much, Dave. God. It's so fucking amazing.”

“That's it, beg for me, angel,” Dave grunted, smacking your ass.”

With Dave’s firm hand, making contact with your bare ass, you moan as a reflex. Another smack came across your ass, another, and another, and another. You became a moaning bullhorn — bearing your teeth, you lay your forehead on the shelf as you feel each thrust rock the shelf.

"Baby, I'm so fuckin" close.”

Dave’s thrusts had become more animalistic, hot, and intense. It was reminiscent of the other times you were like this. The stress disappeared the second you saw each other, just two dads helping each other. You loved this; this moment was something you always yearned for whenever you needed a stress reliever.

You hear growls escape Dave’s lips; you guess he was bearing his teeth as he was ready to shoot his cum deep inside you. "Fuck, baby. I'm gonna cum. I’m going to get you pregnant,” Dave exclaimed, bearing his teeth. As Dave's hips keep going back and forth into you, looking into your eyes, his cum shoots inside you; Dave steadies himself inches away from your neck.

But Dave’s hips don't stop; they keep going — pushing his cum deeper inside you, some slowly leaking out. You don't question it, but enjoy the moment. “Baby. I can feel your hole wrap around me so tight, I can tell you’re about to cum.”

“We’re not going to stop until you cum for me.”

Dave lets go of his hold on the belt and then melts his hands on your waist.

For some reason, you could feel your cum start to build up from your shaft and almost to the tip of your cock. This feeling has never happened to you before, and this was a different experience than anything you could imagine when you were having sex with Dave.

“Dave, I’m gonna cum; this feels so different; it's so fuckin’ good.”

“That’s right, cum for me, baby.”

You shut your eyes, bearing your teeth, exclaiming as you feel strings of cum escape the slit of your cock, bringing your head back, leaning your head on Dave’s shoulder in exhaustion.

You could feel Dave slip his cock out of you, your hole dripping with his cum. Slowly and softly, you felt the belt start to let go of your wrist.

The second the belt had let go of your skin, your arms retracted back to your sides, and you felt light kisses on your neck from Dave. “How was that, angel?”

You turn your neck and plant your lips onto Dave’s. “Amazing as always,” You smile.

You hear your ringtone go off in your pocket, earning a groan from Dave. “Ugh, and the real world has to come knocking.”

You ignore him as you bend to reach your phone in the crumbled pocket, earning a hiss from you, the pain in your ass settling in now. The hissing stopped as you stood up and held your phone. And saw that Carol was calling.

You snicker, seeing her contact on your phone. “How much do you want to bet that she’s calling me regarding where her husband is? Cause me and you are such close friends.”

Dave wraps his arm around your shoulder; beads of sweat glisten on his arm as it connects with your shoulder. His chin is resting on your other shoulder.

“Nothing, because I know that's why she’s calling you.”

You chuckle as you answer Carol’s call, Dave’s lips latching onto your neck as you bring your phone up to your free ear.

“Hey, Carol,” You did your best to sound enthusiastic.

“Hey, is Dave with you? I’ve been trying to call him, but he isn't answering his phone.”

“Yeah, I’m actually with him. He’s struggling with the costume, but I promise he’s almost ready,” You state, trying to get Dave’s lips off your neck as his teeth latched onto your neck.

You hear Carol’s breath of relief as you smirk. “Thank God, I was getting worried. Everyone was asking me where Santa is and I didn't know what to say—”

“Carol,” You chuckle. “Calm down, He’s almost done. We’ll be in, in a few minutes.” You feel Dave’s hand slide up under your shirt, playing with your nipple.

“Thanks, I’ll see you later. Once again, thank you for helping Dave with this; he hated the idea, but whatever you said really made him step up.”

It wasn't what you said, more of what you did to convince him. Your sore throat after that “conversation” was worth it.

“I’m glad he has a friend like you.”

“Anytime, Carol. Calm yourself down and wait for Dave and me,” You smiled.

“Okay, I will. Bye.”

“Bye,” You state as you hang the phone up, placing your phone on the shelf where you rested your head moments prior. “What happened?” Dave questioned.

“Everyone getting antsy on where the hell is Santa,” You retorted.

“He was too busy —kiss— fucking his little helper —kiss— in the closet.”

“We need to get going; we could only be in here for so long.”

Dave groans next to your ear, causing you to chuckle. “Can’t we just leave? Y’know, and fuck somemore, somewhere?”

“As tempting as that sounds — and I’m fighting restraint to say yes, we need to go out there. Come on, we can have some fun later,” You state as you pick up your pants.

Currently, you were looking for your belt that Dave threw off the second you both entered the closet. “Fuck, where’s my belt?” You grumble.

Dave fixes the wide leather belt on his red jacket. His pants were on; he had buttoned up the red coat and was ready to go. Dave needed the hat you ripped off his head and the beard he took off. But Dave couldn't help himself from staring at your ass as you were looking for your belt.

He was leaning on a nearby wall, watching you with crossed arms. “Y’know, the kids can wait, a couple more minutes. They’ll be fine.”

“Dave…” You started.

“Just imagine me, you, your face on the ground, my handprint, marking that sweet ass, hearing those amazing moans you love to make for me so much.”

“As much as I would love to do that. I need your help finding my belt before Carol kills us.”

Hearing Dave huff a breath in annoyance like a teenager, you can't help but smile and roll your eyes. “You’re no fun, and your belt is right by the door.”

Snapping your neck toward the door, you see your brown belt lying on the ground as if it were waiting to be found by you.

“W-what,” You sputter. “How long were you going to make me look?”

Dave shrugged his crossed arms. “I was just enjoying the view.”

Grabbing the belt, you stand up and push the belt through the loops of your jeans; buckling the belt together, you were ready to leave the small closet while Dave was gawking at you.

“You ready?” You question.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Dave starts to walk out, but you open your mouth to stop him. “Dave?”

“Yeah?” He questions.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“Oh yeah, you’re right.” Dave States, walking towards you, grabbing your biceps, and planting his lips on your forehead, backing up from you with a smirk.

You start to chuckle, and Dave looks at you with confusion as you’re laughing at him. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re either a softie or a dumbass.”

“What?”

“I meant for you to grab your beard and hat,” You smile.

“Oh.”

You and Dave finally make your way out of the small storage closet, acting like nothing had happened moments ago, acting like you just walked in the doors.

“You ready?” You ask.

“Are you going to see me later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Yes,” Dave smirks, but you can't see it underneath his fake white beard.

“Then yes, I will see you tonight.”

Dave nods and takes a breath as leathered-covered hands are on the doors. In one push, he bellows a “Ho, Ho, Ho from his lips, which sends the kids screaming in excitement as they watch their favorite person walk into the room, waving and making them smile from ear to ear.

While you slipped inside the venue looking for a cup of water. Your throat had seemed dry after screaming Dave’s name so many times. Seeing the drinks table having water bottles, you take one, tearing the cap off as you watch the kids be joyful as they watch Santa/Dave wave at them.

Carol had come up next to you with a smile on her face; you returned a smile at her. “Thank you so much for helping him; these parents were ready to pounce on me if Dave didn't come sooner.”

You couldn't relate to wanting Dave to “come sooner.”

“Anytime, trust me, Dave can be real stubborn.”

“I’m aware. Try being married to him,” Carol jokes; you can’t help but laugh.

“Are you coming over for dinner tomorrow night?”

You shrug. “I don't know, I would have to ask—”

“I already asked; she said yes, and the girls are so excited to play with the kids again. I swear our families have some fun history.”

“You don't know the half of it,” You smile, taking a swig of your water.

“C’mon, It’ll be fun!” Carol smiled. As you thought about it, your wife and Carol could be distracted while the kids play together, giving you and Dave the free will to do what you both do when they’re not home.

“Fine, you’re right, it’ll be fun.”

Carol was overzealous, clapping her hands and lightly hopping. “Okay, you don't need to bring anything, just yourselves; maybe a bottle will be fine, but no gifts.”

“No gifts,” You repeated. “Understood.”

“Now I got to make sure these kids end up in a straight line so they can tell Santa what they want for Christmas, Excuse me,” Carol excused herself.

Your gaze had landed back on Dave, sitting on the red and gold-like throne only reserved for Santa. You could tell he was staring at you and Carol, conversing with each other. You lick your lips, wink at Santa, and mouth the words. “Dinner at your house.”

You didn't know what dinner had planned, but overall, you knew that it would end with you and Dave alone together.

[almostfoxglove]

Hiya! Slipping in here to ask you a few questions!

📝 Which 4 Pedro boys would you have on your pub quiz/bar trivia team?

👖Which P boy's jeans do you most want to slide your hands into the back pockets of?

🍛 Which dish would you eat forever, if given a choice?

hello sweetheart, tysm for these! <3 <3

📝 Which 4 Pedro boys would you have on your pub quiz/bar trivia team?

omg. yes. I love this.

marcus pike: the man has KNOWLEDGE. I just know it. and he'd take trivia nights sooo seriously like let's not even kid. man's up watching jeopardy just in case it's useful for pub trivia. he brings his own pencil to the bar to fill out the sheet.

dieter bravo: his brain is a catalogue of film & tv facts, I'd be a fool to pass him up. he's gonna act like he's way too cool for trivia and will almost certainly wear his sunglasses inside and insist on taking a back corner table to "stay out of sight" but secretly he loves it and never misses a night. also he's 100% whispering you behind the scenes facts about whatever movie the question's about. like so and so was definitely fucking the director and what's his face was full method the whole time, scared all the PAs shitless. it's a little distracting, but I'm here for the tea.

dave york: I mean, come on. the man's ruthlessly competitive and loves any opportunity to flex the fact that any info that crosses his path is locked. away. forever. in his head. he'll hear a fact or watch something out of the corner of his eye once and remember it forever. I have the memory of a goldfish. dave save me. he does pout if we lose though.

max phillips: he's pretty much useless for everything but smack talk but every once in a while he whips out the most obscure knowledge about something you've never fucking heard of that wins you the game. so you know. he sticks around. never hurts to have a "winner" in your corner, whatever the fuck that means, max.

(tagging some pals who love these boys bc pls I need y'all to see the vision @secretelephanttattoo @chronically-ghosted @guiltyasdave)

👖Which P boy's jeans do you most want to slide your hands into the back pockets of?

@jolapeno once reblogged a frankie gifset with a tag like 'find me under his hat like remy' and she was so right for that. let me at that big broad man. gimme a handful of that ass in those tight jeans please

🍛 Which dish would you eat forever, if given a choice?

omg. so many. I am one of those nds who could eat the same thing for every meal for the rest of my life happily. love not having to make a decision, love eating food I know I love. some contenders I never get sick of: pad thai, pretty much any kind of veggie quinoa salad, or calabacitas guisadas (esp from this one place in seattle that I have to eat at at least 3 times whenever I visit that city)

💞 speed dating asks

[foli-vora]

Congrats on 3k, lovely!!!!

Can I have “you know where to find me.” with Dave York?

Pls turn my pelvis into dust. Your Dave is AMAZING.

My love. Thank you for your never ending support and love. I am honoured you enjoy my Dave! I apologise for the delay, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

A sidenote: Yes, I'm slowly making my way through these requests. Yes, they are incredibly late. Yes, we're ignoring the fact I'm well over 3k now LMAO.

your taste i crave

dave york x f!reader

word count: 1.3k warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. semi public sex/workplace sex, rough unprotected p in v, brief talk of choking, vague descriptions of toy use, use of tie as a gag, creampie, oral sex (f), cum eating, a brief thigh nibble, dave's messy idc

The edge of the copier is harsh where it digs into your stomach, but you can’t find it in you to care—not when he’s moving like this, not when his hands are locked on your hips, keeping you at his complete mercy as he takes what he wants.

He’s so fucking rough, and if you didn’t have the tight pull of his work tie around your mouth and making words practically impossible, you’re absolutely positive you’d be begging him for more.

You don’t think it will ever be enough.

Instead, all that falls from your parted, restrained lips are muffled whines and broken moans when he hits that spot that’s almost too far. It sends a jolt of pain through your system, rocketing up your spine and bringing your body harder against the machine in an effort to escape the intense sensation, but it’s quickly replaced with more heat, more need.

He merely drags you back against him each and every time, his neatly trimmed nails pressing indents into the fleshy skin of your waist as he moves behind you with tightly restrained grunts, the slap of his hips meeting your ass echoing in the small copy room.

Despite the time of day, with most of the office having enough and retreating home, there’s not much time left.

Beyond the dizzying, overwhelming feel of him rutting into you without abandon; cock so fucking solid, so goddamn thick; and bringing a flood of tears to your lash line, you know it can’t last—not like it usually does.

He’d still want to go back to work—most likely for the rest of the evening, the strict borderline obsession with his career rendering him unable to leave the mountains of work flooding his desk.

So there’s no room for build up here. No time for teasing. No long, blissful drawn out torture of him bringing you to the edge only to stop at its peak again and again.

This is about release. This is about working and relieving the tension that had been slowly building across his broad shoulders with every bullshit thing that had happened today and granting him a clearer head for the hours left at the office. This is about him, and you’re only too happy to oblige.

“Might—fuck… might have to–to make this a regular work thing,” he grits out, hand curling around the back of your blouse and tugging roughly at it until your back is pressing against his chest.

The silk collar of it cuts into the soft flesh of your throat, and you want to ask for more.

Maybe his hand? His long thick fingers curling around the width of it and giving it that perfect squeeze that borders on too much but is always just enough.

Maybe his belt? The worn, cared for leather smooth against your skin as it tightens and tightens, slowly pushing your lungs to the max until you’re weeping from the irresistible assault of sensations.

The gag wound tight around your mouth makes it impossible to get the words out, and his mouth latches onto the curve of your shoulder, nipping and biting at the skin until it feels raw. You stretch out for more, his lips soon running hungrily along the expanse of your throat.

Close.

He’s getting close.

You know it, you can feel it.

You can feel it in the way his already bruising grip tightens just that little more. You can feel it in the way his breath starts to catch where it ghosts your skin, sticking in his throat and coming out in shorter pants as he chases the promise of that sweet, sweet high.

You can’t speak, can’t utter a single fucking word to coax him along. You can’t beg for him to keep going, to finish right where he is and fill you to the fucking brim so you can take a part of him home.

He goes wild for your shaky home videos, the smooth finish of your vibrator glistening with the remnants of his cum sliding down the silicon as you fuck yourself with his name on your lips in the cosy comfort of your bedroom.

A mantra of his name fills your mind.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

You want him to hear it, you want him to know that it’s only him that could do this, only him that could use you like this. You love it, crave it.

That familiar tingle runs along your spine in anticipation, your body aching for just that little bit more, your clit throbbing in need of desperate attention to get you just over that line right alongside him—

The groan that falls from his throat is utter filth, hoarse and throaty, and one of your favourite fucking sounds he makes. He slams his hips upwards one more time, forcing the head of his cock right up against your soft cervix as he starts to cum, and you’re left to do nothing but whine into the now damp material of his tie, barely aware of the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.

He takes a long moment to recover, sweat slicked face hidden in your shoulder as his chest heaves against your back. The tie loosens from around your mouth and falls to rest at the base of your throat, leaving a mess of saliva coating your lips and chin which you try to wipe away as cleanly as possible with the back of your hand.

Too soon, he starts to pull away, guiding his softening cock from your tender, weeping cunt with a low hiss of ‘fuck’ before you hear the rustle of his slacks and the smooth pull of his zipper.

You take that as your silent cue, twisting and bending as well as you could on shaky legs to retrieve the damp panties still tangled around your ankles and attempt to drag them back up into place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks gruffly, tugging the thin lace out from your fingers and letting them drop to your feet once more. “Who said I was finished with you?”

“But—”

There’s no time to argue.

He works quickly, dropping to his knees and gripping the underside of your ass enough to spread you open before pressing forward eagerly. The thick, firm feel of his tongue swipes through the mess he had made, forcing its way along your wet folds before pushing into your throbbing cunt.

You manage to smother the yelp of surprise with a quick slap of your hand over your mouth, half wishing he had left the gag in place if he wasn’t done with you. Maybe he’s trying to test you, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about being quiet anymore.

God, it’s risky.

It’s so fucking risky, it’s so fucking good—

He holds you tightly, winding an arm around the front of you to pull you harder against his face as he practically devours you from behind, eagerly coaxing more of his cum and your arousal into his mouth with feral curls and flicks of his tongue.

Your knees threaten to give out when he finally moves away from your entrance and finds your clit, smoothing over the swollen nerve with alternating quick, light flutters and firm, wide rolls. He falls into his pace easily, rekindling the heat in the pit of your stomach in a way only he knows how and you’re desperate to find something to anchor yourself with.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe brokenly, hands clutching the machine for life and eyes rolling with the fresh waves of pleasure as you can’t help but start to rock back against his face, focusing on the feel of his slick tongue sliding back and forward over your previously neglected clit, “maybe we could make this a… a r-regular work thing.”

He hums into you, breaking away with an obscene wet smack of his lips before nipping at the inside of your thigh playfully.

“You know where to find me, pretty girl. Bend over, give it to me.”

-

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

yes, ma'am

Dave York x dominatrix!reader | 9.5k w | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.

warnings: sub-ish!Dave (how sub can a born dom be?), dominatrix!reader, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied, Dave is a good husband and father™️, Molly throwing up, slight humiliation (the boy being called dummy <3), slight ball torture, (guided) masturbation (m), finger sucking, petnames (ma'am, good boy, love), cum eating, slight shoe worship, dick+pussy pronouns, reader wears lipstick, nail polish and stilettos, squint and you miss unprotected PinV; dm me if I missed any

a/n: my submission for @wannab-urs dmamc 2025. i had so much fun domming my man and I tried to make it believable because, well, he's Dave 'the dom' York. enjoy another character study including his dick. thank you @guiltyasdave for the beta and constant love, even though sub!Dave isn't your cup of tea 🥹💛

"Gentle eyes, soft words, tender chin scratches. You have his tail wagging. Slowly, slowly you are domesticating him into a dog, one praise at a time."

“Fuck!” His hand slams down on the steering wheel, once, twice. Again, again, again, until his palm hurts and the thrumming pain helps him to push aside the anger boiling inside of him. He rips down his beanie, ripping out a few hairs as well, not giving a shit about it.

He fucked up. If it wasn’t for his partner the mission would have gone south completely, pulling him along. The plan had been perfect, the preparations perfect as well. All he had to do was to pull the trigger and take the target out. But he fucking missed. He fucking missed. Hit the target into the shoulder, and if Dave’s partner didn’t take initiative and put a bullet through the target's head… He doesn’t want to think about it.

He already saw his domestic life passing before his eyes. The police arresting him at home, his daughters terrified and not understanding why they would take their daddy away. Carol at the trial, being questioned if she really didn’t know about her husband’s assassination side hustle, her face puffy and red from crying.

Dave hisses out another curse, hitting the hard wheel in front of him again.

He could always just disappear, always has an emergency duffle bag stowed away with fake IDs and some cash. But he wouldn't stomach it, couldn't stomach it, leaving his family behind.

It was a close call today… He starts the engine and pulls away from the curb, the tail lights of his inconspicuous car slowly blending in with the dozens of others on the nightly roads as he heads home to his inconspicuous life.

The next few days were difficult, to say the least. His higher up at the CIA was a pain in the ass, deadlines were piling up, Molly got sick and needed attention and care, Carol needed his support, the almost-failed mission was still breathing down his neck… He needed a break and there was no break in sight. Not now. His family needs him, his job does, he needs to fucking function now.

“Daddy, ‘m not feeling good,” Molly mumbles, curled up on the couch, her head in Dave’s lap while he’s working on a report on his laptop.

“Just a second, baby.” He’s almost done, he just needs a minute and the worst part of his report would be finished. Molly stirs on the couch, hastily now. God damnit.

“Daddy…” Her little body starts trembling and with a shudder and a sound that makes Dave’s heart hurt, she slumps over and pukes. All over his notes. Over his pants he had just picked up from the dry cleaning. All over the cream colored couch that Carol wanted so badly and that looks like shit now. All over his laptop. The screen flickers a last time before it goes dark.

“I'm so sorry… Please don't be mad, Daddy.” Molly starts crying, feeling sick and miserable, her little hands shaking as she grips her ruined blanket.

The vein on his neck, he feels it throbbing. His laptop, his fucking work laptop, broken. The sticky, disgusting warmth of what once was chicken soup seeps through his trousers and makes his eyelid twitch.

Just pick your baby up, just comfort her, just help her change into new pajamas, just be a good father, just be good…

“Daddy?” She sounds so fragile, her voice nothing more than a weak breath. She clumsily pushes herself up and accidentally nudges the laptop off of Dave’s knees. The carpet swallows the low thud when it hits the ground, but the cracking of the screen is still very much audible, just as much as Molly’s shocked gasp.

“You broke it. You fucking broke it, Molly,” Dave hisses and is on his feet in an instant, his daughter toppling back onto the couch, now crying even more because she upset her dad.

He doesn’t look over to her but picks up his laptop, trying to bring it back to life. The muscles in his jaw clench when Molly’s sobs start pealing in his eardrums. Dave turns towards her, a barked shut up already on his tongue when Carol appears in the doorway.

One quick look is enough for her to assess the situation. Their crying daughter, a picture of misery and guilt written all over her pale face and Dave, nostrils flared and one hand balled into a fist, the unmistakable smell of vomit reaching her nose… No, this wasn’t good.

“It'll take it from here, Dave,” she says when she strides past him. “Go and calm down.” There's no bite to her words, bite wouldn't do any good at this moment. It would only make it worse, make Dave lose the last bits of reason.

Carol scoops Molly up in her arms, pressing a few soothing kisses to the little girl’s temple. She looks over her shoulder and gestures towards the door with a tilt of her chin as if to say please, just go.

And he does. He flees from the living room and the feeling of shame that starts licking at his insides. It gets too much. A thought crosses his mind, a simple calculation, it has been almost ten months since…

A shiver runs through him and he shakes the idea off his mind like a dog tries to shake off an annoying tick. No, he wouldn't need to do it this time, there sure is another possibility to finally get a grip on his life. He just needs to focus more. Needs a better sleep regimen. More training. More protein. More control over all the small bits and pieces of his life.

Dave shuts the door to his home gym behind him and gets to work. If his muscles are trembling and his lungs are begging him for air, he has no time to think about what kind of an asshole father and husband he is. And so he starts tormenting his body to shut off his mind, to keep the guilt and shame at bay. For now.

That night, when he slips under the bed sheets, almost silently to not wake his sleeping wife, the idea creeps back into his head. Like a tick it has sunk its teeth into his skin and he can’t seem to get rid of it since the first time he has done… it.

It has helped him before, more than he likes to admit it. But he hates it. Because he cannot do it on his own. Because he needs someone else doing it for him, to him. And Dave never liked to be dependent on something or someone.

The sheets rustle and Carol’s hand finds his own, wrapping her fingers around his in the darkness as if she was trying to comfort him. But in reality she wanted his comfort and soothing. Dave wasn't a man who was dependent. Because he always was the man everyone else depended on.

He turns on his side and lifts her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to Carol’s knuckles.

She hums, shuffles closer, her feet slipping between his calves. After a moment of content silence a murmur crawls over the pillows to Dave and settles right on his chest, where the thought about it sits and gnaws at him like a night terror.

“Maybe… maybe you should go see that therapist again? They really helped you the last time.”

Therapist. That was what he told his wife you were. And the things you did, it was therapy. It is, in a way. It helped him. And he hates that it does. He hates that he can’t function like he needs to. He hates that Carol sounds so timid when she suggests therapy, afraid that he could snap at her, too, because she dares to point out his weakness.

He sighs, her soft knuckles still held against his lips. “Is Molly okay?”

“She’s a little better, yes.”

The silence weighs heavy for a moment, Carol’s unanswered question pressing down on Dave’s rib cage. Or is it the feeling of guilt? About being a shit show of a father and husband? About needing you to function, even if it all feels so wrong but afterwards it always feels good and right and he feels better, every damn time?

“I'll make an appointment,” he murmurs and his lips find her ring finger, kissing the spot where the simple golden band always sits. She never takes the ring off, just like him. Carol nestles into his arms, the relief clear when she whispers her thank you, I love you into the hollow between his clavicles. God, he is such a failure, he thinks to himself with his wife in his arms and you in his mind.

You are completely booked out. Months ahead. Of course you are. There never is a shortage of people who want your services. Or to be exact, who need them. So when you received the request for an appointment “asap, ma'am”, signed by David York, you told him you were free again in three months. But then another customer canceled their session and because you like David, you give preference to him.

So a week and a half later you find yourself entering the bar of the Rosewood, one of the finest hotels of the city. Doors magically open because there’s always some finance or marketing guy holding them open for you. Each step with your pointy high heels parts the crowd in front of you and is paved with sleek smiles and licked lips of the men who move out of your way.

You pay them no mind, they only exist at the periphery of your focus. They are not important and will never be. What is important is your customer for this day. You recognize him, the way he sits at the bar, one foot on the footrest of the empty stool next to him, the other one firmly planted onto the ground. Just another pretty man in a suit, interchangeable for most who might look at him.

But for you he was different. A customer, first and foremost. A challenge, too. And he's probably the only man in this bar who is not doubling over to get a crumb of your attention. You had to work for what your customers usually give you gladly and freely: their acceptance and sometimes even devotion.

That is why you like Dave York, because working for him and with him is rewarding. It satisfies you to no end to finally turn his smoothness into something with cracks and weaknesses. And to have him thank you for it.

One of the many men in suits in this bar moves from his place on the outer borders of your attention into the spotlight and obscures the view on Dave. The guy looks you up and down, tries to smile a flirty smile but all you see is a pathetic obstacle. Your mouth already opens to tell him no to whatever suggestion he wants to make, when a big hand lands on the man's shoulder.

Thick fingers, blunt nails, a simple golden wedding band. You look past the surprised strangers face and find Dave, standing behind the man.

“Sorry buddy, not tonight,” Dave tells the man. For a moment they look at each other, like two wolves who found a piece of meat and now silently fight for ownership. Two alphas in suits. But only one of them is a wolf, the other one is just a dog.

“Not ever,” you add when you pass the stranger. The sting of your words gets soothed by your sweet smile, showing off your wolfish canines as you do. Your gaze meets Dave’s own. Two alphas looking at each other again, this time both are wolves.

You don't even bother to care about the other man who disappeared into insignificance as quickly as he had the guts to peek his head out of it. Your focus is solely on Dave now. He looks tired, frail even in the small details of his facial expression. He already looks cracked, maybe you wouldn’t have to work as hard as usual today.

“It has been a while.” You sit down at the bar and Dave gestures for the bartender. He always orders you a drink before you both go up to the booked suite. He never not acts according to the unspoken rules of those kinds of arrangements. He is polite and respectful, even if the air around him very much tastes like aversion. Not against you as a person or the work you do. The aversion is directed against himself and the fact that he was sitting in this bar with you and not at home with whoever was waiting there for him.

He nods his head. That would have to do as an answer. “The usual?” he asks instead when the bartender waits for the order.

“The usual,” you confirm and watch Dave order your vodka on ice. It is a nice change of pace, to not talk and to enjoy the silence, to stretch it like a fabric until it becomes see-through and the silent words between them become audible. Two wolves, dressed in white shirts and blouses, in polished shoes, mustering each other over the rims of their glasses. Sizing each other up.

You take a big sip of your vodka and set the glass down. There’s still a good portion of the booze left, but you need to keep a clear mind for what comes next.

“Are you done?”

Usually he obliges and leaves the rest of his drink on the counter, usually he wants to get over and done with it, with you, with himself. But tonight his need for some more liquid courage is bigger.

“Not yet, ma'am.” His legs spread a little more when he leans back on the barstool. Not in a sleazy manner, not to act like he is hung like a horse. No, taking up space comes naturally to him. And again he is respectful about it. He gives your crossed legs enough room between his thighs, almost like he acts as a buffer between the bustling bar and you.

A thought crosses your mind and makes you smile. He is protective, even though you mean nothing to him. You stretch out your leg, just enough to let the tip of your pointed stiletto brush against his shin. A silent praise for him being good.

Dave’s hand suddenly grabs your ankle, following his first impulse of inhibiting an unwanted touch. Your eyes snap up and meet his, your surprise showing in your raised brows. The grip of his fingers loosens immediately, like he touched something that he wasn’t allowed to, like a too hot cookie fresh from the baking tray.

“Finish your drink then.” A demand dressed up as a friendly request. You pull your foot away, Dave’s privilege of getting a feel for you is already over.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says lowly, just loud enough to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the bar. He swirls his drink in his glass and takes another look at you. You look like some partner in a law firm or some higher up shoving around numbers on paper and employees in meetings. Expensive clothes, expensive designer bags, expensive heels. He had seen them often enough to know that you only wear those 700$ pairs. You’re sleek, smooth, polished, with edges that look round and safe to touch but will cut through skin and flesh if you want to.

He takes a sip of his drink and watches you smile, the red lip stretching over your teeth. He feels a part of him getting excited, this one stupid part of himself, the part which constantly makes troubles. Some corner of his brain just loves this. And apparently needs it too, needs it to make him function as a person. This little part loves to make you smile. And he hates it.

You let him finish his drink, let him buy himself a few more minutes before you leave the bar and enter the grand and shiny hotel lobby. Having people move out of your way just by the way your heels click is satisfying. But having someone in front doing it for you is better. You watch Dave plowing through the lobby as he makes his way to the elevators. His ass looks cute, you think to yourself and enter the cabin with him.

He’s so well behaved for you, pressing the buttons, shielding you from the other guests and making sure you can stand comfortably without anyone standing too close to you, himself included, You smile at him again and for a moment one corner of his lips twitch. Good, that's good. He's responsive tonight.

Dave exits the elevator and struts through the long hallway, countless doors left and right until you reach the right one. A quiet beep when the key card opens the door, muffled footfall on the thick carpet and a discreet click when he closes and locks the door behind you both again. Another reason you love this hotel so much, beside the soft beds and high end shower products in the marble bathrooms: the soundproofing.

No matter how hard the stomp, how loud a scream, how sharp a smack, the walls of these rooms seem to swallow the noises and they are never sated. They drink down every word and whisper and always seem to want more. Like the people you work with.

“Tell me about your rules and limits tonight, David,” you say and look around the suite for a moment. You gesture for him to sit down on one of the plush chairs facing a full body mirror.

All you know about Dave is his name, his phone number and another number as an emergency contact. The rest is guesswork you did over the last months and years. The golden ring on his ring finger? He never takes it off. He's married or maybe widowed.

Dave takes off his jacket and hangs it over the backrest of the velvet chair. One time a little toy figurine fell out of his pocket when he took his jacket off. So there must be a child who he has a close enough relationship with for it to sneak little gifts into his pockets. This time nothing out of the ordinary happens. He simply follows your instructions and sits down.

“The same as always.” He lifts his hips again to tug his slacks down, just enough for them to not cut into his groin. “Nothing that leaves marks on me, no touching me between waist and knees, no restraints, no gagging, nothing enters my body, nothing leaves my body without my consent.”

Yeah, just like you thought. “So basically just talking. You know, you could have ‘just talking’ a lot cheaper, down at the bar for example.” You pull a chair for yourself closer to Dave, with the mirror diagonal behind it.

“I'm not here for just talking,” he says quietly with his eyes fixed on his knees.

“Oh I know, don't you worry.” You sit down now, your legs crossed over your knees and one of your high heels swaying in the air just between Dave's spread legs. “Next: safety. Repeat the rules for me, will you?”

He looks up at you and sighs. “We use the color system. Green means more, yellow means keeping the intensity, red means stop.” He likes the simplicity of this system, appreciates it at home, and loves the way Carol loses it whenever he keeps her on yellow for a little too long. But he doesn’t like to be the one using it himself.

“Good. What else means stop?” Your leg is slowly bouncing up and down and Dave's focus shifts to the pencil thin heel for a moment.

“The… the safeword. Helsinki.”

His eyes meet yours again. Dark ponds of raging brown, the storm behind them perfectly contained, for now. “And…?” you prompt, prodding him a little bit with the sweetness in your voice.

“And there's no shame in using my safeword. Or not using it if I'm… feeling good.” He almost chokes on the last words. There is shame in the whole situation, no matter how he looks at it. But you smile again and this one part of him is relieved. He did good, fuck.

“Good job, you remembered,” you praise and the shiny leather of your shoe ghosts along his calf. “Let's start then. No touching yourself or me and no talking unless I tell you to. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He never sounded less enthusiastic than now. His pretty mouth curves into the tiniest scowl and he looks a little more handsome like this. In another life you two could have a lot of fun. Real fun. Fucked up fun.

In another life you might kneel before him and beg for some peace of mind. He could be the therapy the therapist needs. But not in this life. Because in this he was the one needing peace of mind and you were the provider.

“Now, Dave, I want you to take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror. Right into your eyes.”

He obeys. When he meets his own gaze through the mirror the scowl becomes more prominent. You will let him sit with his own thoughts for a minute or so. Enough time to recap your last sessions with him.

Pretty quickly into your business relationship with Dave you found out about his history with the military. No details really, you just knew that he had served for several years. Being degraded on a daily basis in your forming years does something to the brain. And it surely did something to Dave's brain because his tough outer layer cracked beautifully for you as soon as you called him a ‘weak fucking loser’.

And that was all that you did since then: humiliating him, watching him turn from the hard and controlled man into one who is struggling to loosen up and finally a man who spits out ‘Helsinki!’ and flees from the scene with a raging boner. He is the weirdest customer you have. Because his requests are so tame, so small scaled for what you could do and for what he could really take.

But all you had to do was calling him names and having him palm himself through his pants. You are not exactly complaining, he paid you as much as the guys who go the whole nine yards. Dave makes you work for your money though. It is a fight, every time.

You see it in his face, he is fighting right now, while he stares himself down through the mirror. A fight he can never win. His upper lip twitches, like he is going to growl at his own reflection any moment. Oh, it is clear as day to you, he really needs this session.

You might need to switch things up a bit, you want your customers satisfied after all. And the way he glares at himself tells you that he needs more today.

“What are you thinking, tell me.”

Your voice pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts. It’s sweet like honey but also sticky. He knows that your mouth is a sugary trap. Every word and gesture and touch a carefully laid out crumb to lead him to where you want him: staring up at you, doing whatever it takes to get your sugar lips to smile at him.

A little nudge of your heel against his thigh. A little harder than it had to be to get his attention. He doesn’t like that he likes it.

“Whimp,” Dave says with heartfelt disdain.

“What else? And keep looking at yourself.” Your heel digs a little more into his thigh and you can feel the tremble of his muscle beneath his slacks. He sure was a runner, you think. Thick thighs look so pretty with a few streaks on them. But no, no marks. “You can tell me everything, you know?”

Dave swallows thickly, the soft velvet of your voice is making his throat tight. He's trapped, caged in between your shiny stilettos and your mouth. His thigh throbs against the thin heel.

He takes in his reflection, the man in power, in slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, in polished shoes. A high heel prodding him. His fingers clutching the armrests. His face tight and sour. His wedding ring glinting.

“Cheater.”

You hum, pleased with his answer and gracing him with a small smile in return. So he is in a relationship. Good, this would make it easier. For you.

Your foot moves, the pointy heel being exchanged with the flat of the sole, pressed against his inner thigh. You drag it up the seam, just a little bit.

This is breaking the ‘no touching’ rule. And yet, he endures, fighting his silent internal fight.

Interesting.

“What’s your color, love?” You tilt your head to the side, enjoying how Dave’s nostrils flare at your audacity. He is defying the sweetness of your words. But he wants more of the stickiness. Just a little bit. It won’t hurt, right?

“Green,” he grits out. Fucking whimp, cheater, loser, failure, he tells himself silently through the mirror. Your sole moves higher now, the pointy tip already indicating towards your final destination.

Green. He wants more, he will get more. Your shoe slides higher and leaves a trail of dusty dirt on his clean pants. He will hate that, you know he will, because you would be pissed off, too.

“Are you not embarrassed, Dave? Sitting here, paying money for this? What would she say, if she knew?”

His eyes snap from the mirror to you, the corner of his lips move into another scowl. The wolf would be baring his teeth soon.

You tap the sole of your shoe against his crotch, just enough for a little sting that lets him jump slightly. Dave looks at you, stunned. Such a pretty sight.

“Oh what's with the attitude now? Did I say you could look at me?” You smile at him, the tip of your tongue running along the edges of your teeth. “Do you think you deserve it, looking at me, dummy?”

His eyes widen and his mouth opens, ready to protest, to call this off, ready to show you your place. But the only thing leaving his throat is a choked sound. Probably because you keep rubbing your foot into his groin, pushing into the not-so-soft-anymore softness.

“Eyes back on the mirror.” Another quick rap, sole meeting joined seams, another jolt and, oh yes, a moan, finally. The walls with their expensive satin tapestry greedily drink down the throaty sound. “Now.”

Your command has nothing of the powdered sugar quality anymore and he obeys. Who even is he, he wonders for a moment of clarity when he meets his own eyes through the mirror again. A stupid man, growing hard under the shoe of a stranger, a stupid man with a loving wife at home. A stupid man with guns hidden all over town. Growing hard.

He looks into the mirror, feeling detached from his own reality. He watches the shiny shoe move between the thighs of this man in the mirror, he sees the stomach of the man tense under his dress shirt, he notices how the man's mouth opens. He hears him groan, this man who looks like himself.

“God, are you seriously turned on by this? That's embarrassing. No wonder you pay me for it instead of getting it at home.” You love being mean for money and you love how Dave writhes beneath your high heel and squirms under your gaze. “Do you like this? Answer me, dummy.”

“Yes.” You only get a single hissed word as an answer. Adorable.

“Yes what?” you hiss back, applying a little more pressure to the bulge showing so beautifully.

“Yes, ma'am,” he snarls now. The wolf is showing his teeth and you're gonna pull one out. You are the only one allowed to bite in this arrangement.

“Christ, do I have to spell it out for you, stupid?” Your foot drops lower, right over the tight little package nestled under the thick, elongated dick outline. The pointy shoe tip slowly pokes into the squishy warmth of Dave’s clothed balls. His breath hitches. “Yes, ma'am, what?” you prompt him, the sugar returning to your words.

“I… I like this, ma'am.” His eyes are still glued to the picture in the mirror and he seems to register that this is him. The visual of an expensive high heel pressing against balls matches the thrumming, stingy feeling of pain in his own slacks. And another thing belongs to him, besides the pain. The jumping hard-on, right above this damned shoe.

He swallows thickly, his blunt nails digging into the velvet of the armrests. “Fuck. I like it,” he stutters, staring at his face, like he is seeing himself for the first time. Like he recognizes himself. His stormy eyes become a little calmer, the silent internal fight becoming more quiet.

“There we go. Good job.” You pull your foot away from him and lean closer, elbows to knees, one finger coming up to his chin. He just now notices that your nail polish matches your lipstick. The color would look good around his dick. In another life.

“Look at me,” you croon, laying out your trap for him again. The pad of your finger so warm and gentle under his chin, guiding his eyes to yours. You're smiling, red stretching over white, he did good and his cock throbs against the zipper. He’s wagging his tail for you.

“Good boy.” You lean closer and he can smell your perfume, the mint and vodka on your breath, your amber-scented dominance tinted in black and scarlet. The sweetness of your praise coats his tongue and he swallows it down, to make it a part of him. A little secret part on the inside only he knows about. 

“Color?” Soft, alluring, a trap made for him to curl up in.

He takes a moment to think, but not too much. The thinking part of his brain was already beginning to shut down. “Green,” he rasps with his eyes fixed on the way your eyebrows dance when you smile again.

“Good. Now, I have a question for you.” Your thumb rubs against his chin, just enough to feel the day worth of scruff beneath the digit. “Will you take your cock out for me? Let me see him?”

Gentle eyes, soft words, tender chin scratches. You have his tail wagging. Slowly, slowly you are domesticating him into a dog, one praise at a time.

Dave nods his head. There’s no harm in showing his dick. That doesn't make him a cheater, he tells himself. Maybe he could make you smile again, he knows he has a good cock. Good balls too. Maybe you could squish them again. Just a little bit.

“That's a good boy. Show him to me. Show me how hard I make you.” You lean back in your chair and watch Dave hesitantly fumble with his belt, then top button, then zipper. He still has a little fight left in him. You would be concerned if not. A man like him will never give up completely, that is what makes him so interesting for you, so much fun to play with.

The teeth of the zipper hiss, the fabric rustles when he pulls it over his ass and down his thighs, over his knees. He looks a bit disgraceful like this, sitting in the velvet chair, slacks pooled around his shoes, tented black briefs, looking at you expectantly. You would have let him take his shoes off and fold his pants if he wanted. But he chose to be… excited. And a little impatient. Truly adorable.

You move a little closer again, inspecting what you can see so far. You never saw his dick and usually you are not too keen on seeing your customers’ genitals, they were just extensions, more of the canvas you like to work on. But since Dave always made a fuss about decidedly not showing signs of arousal you became curious. Out of professionalism, of course.

It was looking good, the tent. A thick head pressed against the cotton and crowned with a now black, later milky stain.

“You’re leaking? For me?” You sound like he presented you with a bouquet of flowers or a painting he doodled with crayons. You reach out, your fingers stopping shy before touching the wet spot. You look up at him, a glint of horror in his eyes. No touching, with your hands. “Is this okay?”

A head shake and a dry swallow, then he finds his voice again. “No. Ma'am. I’m sorry.” You touching him would be cheating; in his head this makes sense.

“That's okay, don't worry.” You purse your lips, tapping a finger against the red on them. Then you hold out your hand, palm up. “Lend me a hand?”

Dave hesitates. His dick protesting with stirs against the briefs, not caring about who would touch him and how. He puts his hand in yours, trusting that you would accept his limit.

And you do, of course, you're a professional. Which means you know how to work your way around limits and how to stretch boundaries. You guide his thumb to the wet, glossy spot and rub the pad over the fabric, once, twice, until Dave grunts from the tingling friction.

“Let me know how you taste,” you coo and lift his thumb to your mouth. You open it wide, your tongue sticking out, reversing the roles but he still is your wolf in a dog costume. His eyes glint and for a second you can smell his dominance, too, lingering under the scent of his precum.

Two beasts who recognize each other, just for the fragment of a second, as you look into each other's eyes. But only one can be in charge tonight. You lean in and take his thumb into your mouth. Deeply. You sink down until your lips leave a red lipstick print around the base, one half on his palm, the other half on the back of his hand.

He tastes salty, with a sharp bite to it, just like the man himself. He presses his thumb deeper, can’t resist to have the upper hand with you just once. Your pussy clenches. She likes him.

Oh, in another life, you would let him wreck you. But not now. You suck his finger until you can’t taste his precum anymore and pull off of him.

“Kneel.”

He huffs and his brows draw together. “What?”

“Wrong answer, stupid.” Your foot snaps up, sole pushed against his hard dick, pointy heel somewhere in between his balls. “Try again.”

There it is again, the storm in his eyes. He is so much fun to work with, so easy to rile up, always keeps you on your toes. The same toes that feel Dave's cock throb through his briefs and the leather of your shoe. You move your heel from left to right, just enough to make him squirm and hiss.

“Yes, ma'am.” That's what he says but it sounds a lot like ‘fuck you’.

You laugh at that, sit back in your chair and put your foot back down on the ground. “That's more like it. Come on, chop chop. On your knees.”

He does as he is told. Growling and glaring, avoiding his ridiculous reflection in the mirror, of a tough guy with his pants around his ankles and leaking like his cock is drooling for you. Dave finds himself on his knees as he sinks into the thick carpet. Your feet are right in front of him, he catches a glimpse of his face in the glossy black tip of your heels. He looks twisted, but unmistakably like him.

“And now: touch yourself. Over your briefs. Nice and slow. Eyes on my shoes.” You place one foot on his thigh and his eyes follow the movement without moving too much. “You seem to like them?”

His hand, the one with your lipstick on it, runs along his length, slowly, calculated, avoiding his sensitive tip as he does. “Yes, ma'am,” Dave mutters and squeezes his girth like he's trying to soothe himself because your voice doesn’t do it anymore. It's all harsh now and not sticky-sweet.

Your heel gets pressed into his thigh, the thin end biting into his skin. “Yes, ma'am, what?”

His jaw ticks. His thumb is soothingly rubbing over the head of his cock, knuckle pushed against the underside. “Yes, ma'am, I like your shoes.”

“I thought so. You got so hard for them, didn’t you?”

He takes a deep breath and keeps on palming himself, a steady back and forth. The wet blotch grows. “I-...” He breaks off when you start caressing his balls with your sole. Back and forth. Front to back, in the same rhythm as he strokes himself. “I did get hard for them, yes. For you, ma'am.”

He just wants some of that sugar back, some of those honeyed words from you. He's on his knees already, what else could you want?

You let him kneel and watch his hand move, register his hip twitch. You brush your fingers through his hair, just a light pet.

“Take him out now. I can look at him, right?”

He nods his head and tugs himself out. Caught behind the waistband you get a first peek. Girthy, a stunning color, a dusty rose turning into an earthy pinkish-red, cut, a clear bead of precum forming over the slit before it runs down and spreads over the already glistening skin.

With another tug he pushes his briefs under his sack, forcing it up nice and tight, right under his cock. He has a slight curve, too. Fucking perfect. Your pussy clenches again.

Dave's hand fists the base, some of your red lipstick transfers to his shaft. The closest your mouth will probably get to him. Such a shame, you think, swallowing down some pooling spit, because you really would like to get a sore jaw from sucking him off.

“Now that's a pretty cock you got there. Hold still.”

You crouch over to Dave and place your palm over his hand, giving his dick a good squeeze with Dave's hand. 

“I won't touch him, I promise. But let me guide you.” Molasse thick, that's how your voice sounds. Almost too thick to be swallowed down. 

He manages to do it nonetheless. Ignoring that this is out of the comfort zone of David York, the husband and father. But oh, those words taste delicious for the man who knows rules and laws but lives outside of them. 

His own hand relaxes under yours and with the first stroke another yes, ma'am drips from his lips. 

This is a strange feeling. He guided several hands in his life, taught them where to rub, how to twist, how much to squeeze. But having his own hand touch him with those foreign movements was… new. Sexy. Frustrating too, because you seem to know exactly what not to do.

He looks down between his thighs and sees two hands moving and he really tries to imagine it was just your hand. He wants your touch. Christ, he wants your mouth on him, too. And you would do it, you would gladly accept the proposal and call him a good boy again. But he can't. He can't do it, it's not the right thing to do. He feels his wedding ring slide up over his tip and back down. No, he can’t have you touch him directly.

But he can give in to you a little more. His dignity hangs over the other chair, taken off together with his jacket right at the beginning. You might as well make him your bitch. He throbs against his fingers and Dave asks himself if you can feel it, too. Without being able to stop it his hips buck into his fist, your fists. You were moving his hand so goddamn slow, he needs more. More pressure, more speed.

“Are you not happy, love? Are you being ungrateful?” You slow down even more until your palms reach his top again. Dave has lubed himself up so nicely with his own precum, you can feel it spreading between your own fingers. With a tight grip you flick and twist, like screwing open a bottle, twisting the cork out of a bottle of champagne. 

Dave’s body jerks as do his hips and he moans again, feeding the soundproofing of the hotel room the delicious sounds he makes.

You tut at him, smirking and mocking and twist his hand over his cock again.

“Oh, so you are ungrateful? You have to ask for the things that you want, dummy, That's how this works.” You loosen your grasp and straighten your back, cross your arms and then your legs until the sole of your shoe hovers over his balls. “So…? Are you ungrateful?”

He shakes his head and fights the urge to rock himself against your shoe. More precum gets pushed out of his slit, he fucking aches. He could just spit out the safeword and jerk it in his car, like usual. But he is too proud for that. He is going to finish what he started here, in this room with you.

“No, I’m not. I just-...” he breaks off when you start bouncing your foot, knocking against his balls with almost gentle pats. Dave clutches his girth with a groan, his hips bucking forwards again. “I…,” he strokes himself once, hoping you would get the implications without having to put it into words.

A finger hooks under his chin again, he can smell himself on your skin. A nudge and he looks at your face again, the way you bare your teeth at him in a graceful smile doesn't cover up the authoritative tone hidden in your sweet words.

“You already did so good today. But I want you to do one last thing, yes?” You rub your finger under his chin, smearing some of his sticky precum over his skin. “Will you try it, for me?” 

He'd do a backflip, if you kept up the carrot and stick game for a little longer. 

And then you do it again, showing him the treat he could have if he only was a good enough boy for you. You start licking your hand clean. Languid laps with the flat of your tongue, starting with the little finger.

“Love, I want you to fuck your hand. You don't have to hold back.” You suckle on the tip of your finger before licking Dave's salty residue off of the next one. You stop at the tip, twirl your tongue around the fingernail painted all ruby and smile at him. Just as if you were licking an ice cream spoon clean. 

“Just make sure to keep your hand still and fuck into it.” Now middle and index finger. Your tongue runs over both of them before you put them into your mouth. In and out they go, sluggish and without hurry, you hum at the taste like it's the sweetest cream. 

And then, instead of doing a backflip, Dave starts moving his hips. His eyes glued to your mouth and the red of your lipstick transfers to your fingers before it disappears in the dark, tight, wet cavern of your mouth. 

His hand doesn't feel anywhere close to what he imagines your mouth does. Dave is just glad that he can finally care for his aching boner. With every thrust, in sync with your fingers sliding in and out between your lips, his balls slap against the leather sole of your shoe. It stings, but it stings good. He didn’t even know he liked this before tonight. Before your expensive stiletto pressed and rapped and pushed into them.

He ruts his hips faster now, not matching the speed he needs, but he makes it up with squeezing himself hard. Soft squelches come from between his legs now with every back and forth. More noises for the thick carpet and walls to swallow, never to be heard again.

You’re sucking on your thumb now while Dave's clutching himself harder, hips thrusting in a relentless pace. He fucks his hand like you told him to. 

He looks so perfect in the mirror, that little piece of ass that you can see from your angle. Clenching and unclenching, the movements draw you in, hypnotize you. The perfect cream-white canvas for blotches of red and sprinkles of violet, for scarlet streaks, oval imprints of your teeth even. 

You lick your lips when his thighs start trembling. How good he would look if he fucked himself on your strap-on. In another life, you muse and press your thighs together. The sound your thumb makes between your lips resembles the one that will come from your wet cunt later, when you're at home again. With Dave's salty taste in your mouth and a girthy vibrator, one to match the size of his cock.

His eyes meet yours again, just for a second before they dart down to your tongue again when you start licking your palm. He's still in there, the hard man, the one who's fighting against himself, the one who probably whispers insults inside his head. You can see him in that short moment, somewhere swimming in the stormy mahogany.

You stop licking your palm when Dave winces after snapping his hips harder into his hand and his balls against your sole. He’s at his personal limit.

“Almost there, love, hm?” Another lap to your palm, seemingly unbothered by the state he is in. “Do you want to come?”

He groans and growls, his glutes are burning, his knees hurt, his fucking balls thrum. Oh, he wants to come alright. “Yes, ma'am,” he grits out.

“Say that you're pretty when you fuck your hand for me.” Your tongue flicks over your palm again and reveals your canines again. Just a wolf cleaning her silky fur.

If the need for his orgasm wasn't bigger than his pride, he would have rolled his eyes and fucked that smug smile right out of your face. But he really, really needs to come. He is so close. He can play along a little longer.

“I'm pretty when I fuck my… fucking hand for you,” he snarls and a something in the depth of his guts starts fluttering with a burning strength.

“Good job. You really are pretty like that, love.” You pull the leg of your pants up, the heavy, black fabric now rests bunched up on your knee. Dave still ruts into his hand, chasing the release he knows he can’t have that easily. 

“Say ‘I will make a pretty mess for you, ma'am.’,” you order and push your fingers through his hair, careful to not ruin his side part. A single unruly strand gets fixed with your spit-wet fingers. Nothing that leaves marks on me. Well, he can wash off your little saliva mark later.

More carrots, more sweet words and sugar touches, more of your smug but also content smile. Christ, he just wants to do something right. And you are offering him an easy fix. Dave whines and leans into your touch. Vigorously he pounds his hand, his balls trapped between his waistband and your sole and it all feels so warm, hot, his pulse beats in his ears and throbs in his straining cock. “I will make a pretty mess for you, ma'am. Fuck. I need to move my hand.”

His big browns look up at you, same parts furious, pleading and desperate.

“Say please,” you chirp and tilt your hips to feel the middle seam of your pants pressed against your clit. “Be good, say please and you can come for your ma'am.”

“Please. Fuck, please!” he barks as he steps into your honeyed trap you have laid out for him from the beginning. He is stuck in it knees first, tail between his legs, barking, howling, wagging. How to catch a wolf.

“That's my good boy. Go on, you can come. Make a mess.”

He did good, thank god. Dave starts moving his hand, jerking his cock hard and fast, his teeth sink into his flew to bite back a loud howl when he feels himself coming.

It is beautiful to watch for you, how his eyes roll back slightly, how his hand moves so fast that the smacking sounds are like a rapid fire, how he thrusts a few more times into his tight fist until he squirts his thick creamy cum all over. It feels hot on your skin, like molten wax poured over your shin, down to your foot and finally your high heel.

You moan in unison with Dave. You never are above feeding the soundproofing some of your noises as well. An offering to the gods, to keep you blessed with men like Dave.

He continues to stroke himself, choking on a few whimpers, milking the last remnants of cum out of him. His wedding band isn't shining as much now, all dull and foggy with his seed dimming the golden hue. His hand trembles, his runner thighs tremble too, his briefs, still tucked under his balls, are ruined and he slowly, slowly loosens his hard grip around his cock.

“Love, you did so good. That wasn't so hard, was it?” His cum starts running down your leg now and you both watch it for a moment. 

“I'll get you a tissue,” he mutters breathily, ready to finally get off his knees and gain some dignity back.

“Nuh uh. Clean up without tissues or towels.” Nothing enters my body without my consent. He looks at you and scoffs out single disbelieving laughter. You shrug your shoulders. “Listen, you came this far. You can be a coward and use your safe word. Or you can take responsibility and clean up the mess you made. It's an easy task.”

You are right. It is an easy task, compared to the mess his life is. It's easy. It's easy. It's easy. He leans forward and swallows, thickly. He looks up at you and sticks his tongue out. It's easy. 

You lift your leg up to his mouth, nodding your head, smiling, baring your teeth like a docile pet wolf. Dave's tongue meets your skin, smooth under his slick, powdery scent under his salty stench. He licks a stripe from your ankle up your shin, then another one and another one. Slowly. It's easy. One lick at a time. Fixing the mess he made.

His clean hand holds your foot, nestled in your stiletto, and he laps his cum from the bridge with shorter strokes. 

Dave doesn't flinch away from his own taste, he’s licked his own hands clean often enough to enjoy it to a degree. A form of cannibalism, eating his young, feasting on his own potential.

He cleans your skin, lifting your foot higher and his tongue pressed into the small gaps between the leather and your toes. You pet his head again, humming, purring under his ministrations. Dave's lips purse half above the leather and half above your skin, a small kiss before he sucks his cum out of the tiny gap.

It really is easy. He licks over the glossy black, leather and salt coating his senses, another sugary good boy in his ears and in his hair your claws graze over his scalp. 

A few more licks and kisses and the creamy white has disappeared from the shiny piece of leather. He can see himself in it again. A twisted image, but unmistakably Dave.

He rubs his spit into the smooth animal skin, you can wash his mark off later if you want. He's done. With cleaning and with this. It's over, for tonight at least.

He lowers your stiletto onto the thick carpet again and offers free sight to his spent cock, heavy and sticky. No more wagging, no more dog. He's back to being an equal.

“You did amazing, Dave. Really good.”

Your hand falls to his shoulder, giving him a gentle pat before you rise to your feet and over him your hand to pull him up. He takes it, groaning quietly when his knees crack. Dave feels a little shaky, or maybe more shook than shaky. But he feels good, lighter, loose. Not even ashamed.

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink, something to eat?” You don't even wait for his answer and turn to the minibar, pulling out a cold water for him.

“No, thank you. I'm good. I'll just take a quick shower.” With a thud his shoes land on the floor as he kicks them off. His slacks follow, then his damp briefs.

You watch him undress, amazed and attracted to his confidence and nonchalance, attracted to what lies beneath Dave's clothes, too. In another life you two would be a great match. 

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You turn towards the minibar again, looking for something else. There it is, a kitkat.

“You don't have to, but thank you.” Dave smiles at you and shrugs his shirt off his shoulders. He holds out his hand now, naked in front of you and not bothered by it. Smug. Big dick energy and he can afford it.

You shake his hand, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. “Until the next time then. Take good care, Dave.”

You smile at each other, the possibilities of being reckless crackling between you, but then he lets go of your hand and turns his back towards you, heading into the bathroom. When the water starts running behind closed doors you take his shirt from the pile of clothes and nuzzle into the fabric. It's a good smell. Masculine, of course.

Slipping a few fingers into your pants and deeper, behind the elastic of your lace underwear and still deeper, dipping them into your sopping pussy, you inhale his scent deeply, clenching to the thought of his tongue on your skin.

You treat yourself to a moment with your fingers buried in your cunt before you pull out again. You write your name on the inside of his collar, invisible ink made out of your slick, setting a scent mark, a last reward for this good boy. 

When Dave enters the room again later you have disappeared, in thin air, no trace of you is left. But something churns inside of him when he gets dressed. 

Later, in his car, it clicks. Pussy. It smells like pussy, right in front of him. You god forsaken menace. Of course you had to have the last word. Marking him, mocking him, making him hard again. And of course your pussy smells delicious. Sticky sweet. He groans and adjusts himself, driving home a little faster now.

The house lays in silence when he steps over the threshold. The girls are fast asleep, he checked it immediately with a peek into their rooms. Carol is asleep as well. Soft and warm and plush under the blanket, curled up on her side. Dave kicks his shoes off and steps out of his slacks and briefs. They are still damp in the front, from the precum you urged out of him. But the shirt stays on. 

He slips under the blanket and pulls Carol closer, her perfect ass against his already half-hard cock. A hand gently kneads one of her breasts, the other one tugs down her pajama pants. 

She's awake in no time, whimpering when he grinds against her rear and lets his dick glide between her ass cheeks.

“Therapy was good?” Her voice is so soft, always sweet for him, never harsh, rarely ever does a no come from her.

“Yeah. Missed you…” he mumbles into the crook of her neck, biting and pulling on her skin until she winces softly.

“Dave-...”

He pinches her nipples and she winces again. A waft of your pussy hits him and he breathes it in deeply.

“Color, baby.”

“What?” Carol chuckles, not yet believing that she’s about to be fucked by her always loyal, always loving and caring husband.

“You’ve heard me. Give me your color.” His cock now slides between her legs and through her folds. He’ll slick her up real good, leaking already with a quiet thrumming sting in his balls. Carol’s pussy feels as good as yours smells.

“Green,” she gasps and rocks back against him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls before biting the flesh over her shoulder blade and pushing into her.

When Dave finally is satisfied, soaked in Carol and him, she rolls on her back and watches him get a warm towel for her. Whatever this therapist did with Dave, it did wonders. He should go more often.

thank you for reading! and remember, kids, comment or reblog to show me I've been a good girl and did a good job, please and thank you

find my Dave York masterlist here

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more a/n: I'd probably suck as dominatrix, shout-out to all the bad ass professionals and hobby dom(me)s out there, you are amazing and I'm literally on my knees for you

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Dave York one shot

Dave York & Kitten: Make Me, Yorkie

Pairing: Dave York x Fem!Reader (Kitten) Summary: Dave get more than he bargains for with a playful Kitten. Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Word Count: 2,821 Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, swearing, snack cake eating, belly stuffing, naughty Kitten business, fingering, spanking, brat taming, domestic dom/sub dynamic, p in the v, chubby teasing, light degradation, implied consent, established relationship

Author's Notes: I promised a Dave-&-Kitten-Cookie fic way back in 2023 (okay, it was only a few weeks ago), and while there aren't Christmas cookies, Dave does has his fill. This started out as a Frankie & Mouse one shot, but I felt Dave energy trying to come out. Thank you to @softpascalito & @umnitsa for beta'ing the first draft. Thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for beta'ing the final draft. This is dedicated to our resident Dave York apologist, @theywhowriteandknowthings - beef 💜 knowy

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

“Oh Dave… do you know where all the cookies went for the neighbourhood bake sale?”, you cooed, reaching forward from your seat at the kitchen table and poking his belly. “Oof baby… look at how big you’re getting.”

*****

Dave was in a bad mood. He’d had a terrible day at work, and he’d come home to an empty house with unlabeled – and unsupervised – cookies in the pantry.

You’d spent most of the day baking and prepping for the neighborhood bake sale, waiting patiently for him to get home, only to receive a text halfway through the afternoon, stating that he was having “the shittiest day”. You knew he didn’t send texts like these lightly, and you braced yourself, purposely putting aside a dozen or so cookies in the pantry for him as a treat. But by the time you’d returned from dropping off your baked contributions at the neighbour’s house, you walked in to see Dave with his dress shirt pulled unreasonably tight across his now full belly with his belt undone.

While Dave was trying to behave and resist treating himself regularly in the pantry, you knew he wasn’t winning that battle, given that his middle had filled out enough that it was more than the softer middle you’d grown accustom to that would become a little more when he ate; Dave now had a belly that was apparent whether he’d eaten or not and you’d only just recently sized up his wardrobe over Christmas because of it.

With a sly glint in your eye, you made the decision to have some fun tonight.

You gave him several chances to admit he ate the cookies, but he didn’t budge. So, because you were playing dumb to his refusal to come clean, you dutifully served him a full, hearty dinner. The whole time he shoveled food into his face, you teased him, getting in the odd tummy poke here and bratty remark there.

“Oh Dave… do you know where all the cookies went for the neighbourhood bake sale?”, you cooed, reaching forward from your seat at the kitchen table and poking his belly. “Oof baby… look at how big you’re getting.”

Dave let out a huff in response, trying to ignore you as he sat next to you, scrolling through his phone. Standing up, you leaned over his shoulder from behind him and kissed his neck.

“You’re gonna need some new clothes again soon. Been eating too well lately and it shows”, you grinned against his skin, smoothing your hands over his middle, curling a finger into one of the puckered openings between his shirt buttons. “Look at your poor shirt!”

“Knock it off, Kitten.”, he grunted, shrugging you off him before bringing his closed fist to his mouth to stifle a burp.

His refusal to play with you left you feeling a little hurt, but it mainly left you feeling pent up and needy for his attention. And the thought of him being too full to deal with you acting up made you squeeze your thighs together as you watched him hold his aching belly as he walked out to the den.

Dave sat back heavily on the couch, almost painfully full. And now, on top of his frustration over work, he was uncomfortable and bloated after eating his whole dinner to not look like the guilty party, trying to stifle belly-shifting hiccups. He thought he’d get some peace once he was on the couch, but he then let out an irritated sigh when he heard you making your way to the den.

“Dave?”, you called out in a singsong voice.

“Jesus Christ…”, he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face.

“Dave baby?”

“Not now!”, he snapped, not looking away from the tv.

You walked around in front of him, blocking his view of the tv, and you smiled mischievously at him. He gave you a glare with a tight mouth and shook his head.

“So you’re meaning to be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

“You’re being cranky… didn’t even give me a kiss when you got home.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Kitten. I’m-“

“Ma’am.”, you corrected him, challenging him for control.

“No…”, he warned, his eyes boring into you and his mouth pulled tight into a scowl.

“Excuse me?”

Your harsh snap back at him caught him off guard.

“You’re really asking for it. Do not make me get up off this couch.”

“David… you’re not getting off that couch any time soon.”, you purred, moving slowly towards him. Your head nodded towards his bloated middle. “What you got in there?”

He rolled his eyes, not taking the bait. “You fucking know what it is! You made it and served it to me!”

He shifted in his seat and winced, hand going to his belly.

“Awe, Dave got greedy and now he’s got a tummy ache.”, you cooed in a mock-pout. You stood above him and smirked. “Look at you. How much weight do you think you’ve put on in the last month? You really treated yourself over Christmas… Just bought you that shirt and it’s already getting too small, honey.”

His brown eyes looked like molten copper from the rage you incited; you were really hitting his buttons and it only made you bolder.

“Do not do this, Kitten. I am not playing. I had a shitty day, and-“

“Did you enjoy all those cookies? It looks like you did…”, you interrupted in a soft, smug voice, nodding your head to his middle.

“Last warning.”, he growled.

 “You’re too fat and full to do anything about it.”

“Knock. It. Off.”, he snarled through his clenched teeth. “Behave! I fucking mean it!”

A grin spread across your face, and you licked your lips.

“Make me, Yorkie.”

“Oh, you fucking brat! You’re gonna get it.”

His harsh tone mixed with huffing and grunting to stand up made your knees feel weak, and you backed away. When Dave stood, his heavy middle made him lose his balance and he fell back onto the couch with a grunt. The force caused a few of his buttons to pop open on his shirt and you covered your mouth to hold back your giggles.

“Getting pretty big, Yorkie.”

He raised a warning eyebrow and pointed at you. “Hey!”

You couldn’t help it. The flames in his eyes were addicting and you needed more. “Like I said before, you’re eating too well … you filled out and now you’re just getting fat…”

His breath hitching and his pupils dilating didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it emboldened you further. You stood your ground and didn’t move towards him yet, knowing that he’d take any chance to grab you and set you right back in place if you got too close.  

“Think your coworkers notice all the weight you’ve put on? Think they talk about how heavy you’re getting? Think they notice how you’re growing, making your clothes pull tight?”

His breathing had picked up as his hand moved across his underbelly and palmed his crotch, trying to adjust his too-tight pants over his erection.

“Fuck…”, he panted through gritted teeth. “I outta fuck that mouth to get rid of that attitude.”

“Like to see you try… too full and fat now to even get off the couch.”

That seemed to be the ignition for him. He let out a grunt and hoisted his large frame up from the couch. You felt your cunt clench at watching him and you began to breath shallowly through your mouth.

His eyes were dark and ripped right through you, and you swallowed thickly, managing to whimper out, “Dave? … baby?”

It only took him a few quick steps and he was towering over you.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You could feel your core drooling and Dave watched your eyes glaze over as they stared up at him.

“What was it you said? I’m ’too fat and full to get off the couch’? Didn’t get that right?”

You didn’t know Dave could move that fast. Before you could answer, he grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. He fell back to his spot on the couch, pulling you down with him. You had no idea how you ended up across his lap as he sat back on the couch, his large hand shoving your dress up over your ass.

“Fucking brat. All I want is a quiet night on the couch after a shitty fucking day and you’re just doing the most to piss me off.”, he growled.

You squirmed on his lap, his belly pressing heavily against your side. He shoved his hand between your legs, and you whined.

“I fucking knew it! You’re soaked. This pussy’s just begging to take a beating, isn’t it?”, he snarled, pressing harsh circles against your clothed clit. “You get off on making me mad, Kitten?”

“Fuck! Dave! Please!”

“Please what? You got my attention now, Kitten. You can’t handle it? What else d’you want from me?”

You yelped when you felt a sharp sting on your backside. You turned and looked at him, shock written all over your face.

“David! Did you just fucking spank me?”

“I asked you a question.”, he said sternly.

“I thought you were just gonna finger me and-“

Despite the scowl planted on his face, the look in his eyes was begging for this. You gave him a small nod in agreement. Another sharp sting from his palm landing on your ass.

“I said I asked you a question.”

When you yelped out at the last smack, he smoothed his palm over your reddened skin, his tone shifting low and menacing.

“Come on, baby… you got my attention… now be a good girl and answer my question. What else do you want from me, kitten?”

And there it was. He was finally in the ring, towering over you and ready to spar. It lit your insides on fire and your core throbbed. You let out a staggered breath and croaked out, “Just… just want… you… your attention… don’t wanna be ignored.”

“My baby’s feeling ignored, huh? Probably because she’s being a little shit and not behaving…”

“I tried!”, you whimpered. “I made cookies and had some saved just for you! I… I just wanted-“

His hand guiding your leg off his lap, opening your clothed core to him. He cupped your mound in his hand, massaging it gently. It stopped you from finishing your sentence and you whimpered instead.

“Go on, Kitten…”

“I just wanted to make you- ugh!”

“I thought I was being pretty clear that tonight was not a good night for your bratty bullshit. Yeah, you made a good dinner, but your attitude is way out of line. Trying to make me feel bad about how much I enjoy your cooking and baking. S’not nice, baby...”

“I-I’m sorry!”, you whined in response.

He spanked you a few more times, the final one coming down a little harder. Each one forced a yelp from you between panting breaths and you rutting your hips on nothing. His cock was hardening under you, pushing against your hip.

You suddenly felt your panties pull harshly against your hipbones then snap off, and Dave tossed them to the side. His middle and index finger dove into your folds.

“So fucking wet… Jesus, Kitten… you’re a needy fucking brat…”

You wriggled your hips, begging for more friction against his fingers.

“Such a bad girl… getting me fat and thinking I’m slow… feeding me till I’m too fucking stuffed to get off the couch? Then you give me attitude about how big you made me?”

His tone was slipping into his usual ‘dominant’ voice, and it was almost too much mixed with his adept fingers and the soreness of your backside.

“I know you just love it… thinking you’re in control when you heap plate after plate in front of me… thinking you can feed me until I’m pliant and yours to fuck around with… no such luck, baby.”

He pushed two fingers into your weeping hole and began to pound into you relentlessly. Your back arched as you cried out.

“Yeah, baby… this is what you needed, isn’t it.”, Dave snarled through his clenched jaw, continuing his relentless pace. You could feel that the bulge from before was now almost painfully digging into your hip bone – the fact he was enjoying this so much made you love it even more. You let out panting moans as your walls began to clench on his digits.

“Oh god-fuck!… I’m-oh fuck!”

He ripped his hand away from you and another spank landed on your backside, stinging further from his wet-with-your-slick hand. You cried out and buried your tear-streaked face into the arm rest.

“You gonna behave?”, he barked as he pulled your hair back, forcing you to look at him.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll behave!”, you cried out. “Please Dave!”

“You done being a brat?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, I am!”

“Stand up.”

You shakily pushed yourself up off his lap, and his hands came to steady you. You looked at him, your cheeks flushed and damp, lips pouted, and you sucked in a small sob.

“There’s my kitten.”, he smiled menacingly, looking you over and the mess he’d made of you. “So fucking desperate. What am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me and let me come!”, you huffed back. God, you wanted him to keep this up. 

“Mind your manners!”

His voice was dark and his eyes even darker as he drank you in. Fuck, you needed him in the worst way. His hand came up and gently touched your chin before his hand went around your neck, pushing your back against the wall. His other hand went to his belt, unsuccessfully trying to undo it to get his pants off. His intensity in his eyes started to melt, giving way to desperation.

“Dammit!”, he grunted, removing his other hand from your throat and you moved forward to help.

“No baby… please… fuck, just stay there… j-just act like you’re pinned…”, Dave pleaded, eyes wide and screaming with arousal as he tried sucking in his belly.

You did as you were told, keeping yourself against the wall, watching as he fumbled with his pants, finally getting them down around his thick thighs, his boxer-briefs barely containing his rock hard, leaking cock. His hand went right back to your throat, and he mashed his face into yours in a fevered kiss. He kept your mouth locked onto his as he pulled you away from the wall, only breaking to turn you around and push you over one of the large standing speakers that framed the TV. Without warning, Dave spat into his hand and freed his cock, pumped it a few times, then ran the head through your folds. He finally pushed into you, making you keen and grip the speaker.  

“Fuuuuuck…”, he breathed as he seated himself deep within you. “God dammit…”, he hissed as he began pounding into you. “I needed this, baby.”

“Oh god- Dave! So big… fuck!”

“Good girl… come on, Kitten… come for me…”, he grunted. “Touch your clit, baby… play with it… not-not gonna last long…”

“Da-David…”, you whined, as your fingers rubbed circles on your nub, thrusting you just enough to fall over the edge. You panted erratically as your long-time-coming release ripped through you, making your walls clench and spasm around him.

He let out a groan. “Good girl… good fucking girl…” and kept pounding into you. He was beginning to falter in his pace, and his breaths were coming out in short, hurried pants. He pulled back from you, jerking his cock, and came on your reddened ass cheeks.

You were slumped over the speaker, breathing hard, when you heard Dave fall back onto the couch, making it groan and creak under his sudden weight.

sp

“Hey… baby?”, he panted. “You good, Kitten?”

You pushed yourself upright, feeling your dress sticking to his release on your backside.

“You dick.”

He looked up at you with a raised eyebrow in warning. “Excuse me?”

“You spanked me and came on my ass!”

“Yeah? And where did it get me? Panting and fat on a couch… you still got an attitude.”, he huffed out in a laugh.

“Guess you’ll have to try harder next time.”

You tried keeping an angry front, but failed as you sat down on his lap, smearing his spend on his bare thighs. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him as you fell into a fit of giggles.

“Fuck, if I try any harder, I’ll pop a seam or come in my pants.”

You grinned and then giggled again, “Please, Dave - try harder!”

He laughed and pressed a kiss you your forehead. “You’re such a shit. Behave!”

“Make me, Yorkie.”

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TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi

[daddy-dins-girl]

Pedro Boys - "Zombie Apocalypse Team"

this might be my favourite one yet... keep reading for headcanons!

related posts: Pedro Boys "During a Fire Emergency" Pedro Boys "Nice Argument. Unfortunately," Pedro Boys "Don't Fuck This Up" Pedro Boys "Dad(dy) Matrix" Pedro Boys & Stabbing Pedro Boys "Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic" Pedro Boys "Feral/Sad/Angelic" Pedro Boys Respond to "I love you." Pedro Boys "Character Tropes" Pedro Boys "Gay/Depressed/Horny on Main" Pedro Boys "Dad/THOT/Bastard" Pedro Boys "bring some Coke to the party" Pedro Boys "I Want a Baby" Pedro Boys "As Babysitters" Pedro Boys "As McDonald's Dads" Pedro Boys "in a horror movie" Pedro Boys "Cinnamon Rolls" Pedro Boys "5 Kids, 3 Chairs" Pedro Boys "Playing Monopoly"

Headcanons under the cut!

Leader - Dave York. Simply put, Dave wouldn’t allow anyone else to be in charge of him, regardless if they’d be better suited for it. Some of the others follow him out of fear, others simply because they'd just prefer not to be in charge.

Brawler - Joel Miller. The muscle. Not so great with his words, much better with his fists.

Weapons Expert - Din Djarin. A bonafide space cowboy, this man has it all. Blasters, rifles, flamethrower, jet pack. Evaporating infected before they even see him coming.

Brains - Marcus Moreno. Truly the Team Leader, but he lets Dave hold the title. He has the mutual respect of everyone, is level headed and the glue that holds the whole group together. He advises Dave, but in a way that makes Dave think they’re his own ideas. Marcus doesn't need to take any credit, he just wants everyone to be safe.

Medic - Frankie "Catfish" Morales. He’s no doctor, but he's had enough basic field medical training in his military days to at least be able to patch everyone up better than anyone else on the team. He’d prefer to be the Vehicle Expert but sadly, modes of transportation in the apocalypse are hard to come by.

Moral Support - Marcus Pike. Always looking at the bright side of the apocalypse. He likes to joke “when life hands you cordyceps, make mushroom tetrazzini”.

Scientist - Ezra. Not exactly Einstein, but he knows what berries and plants are safe and which to avoid during long treks through the wilderness. He’s proven himself useful more so than not. Mostly he keeps Dieter from accidentally un-aliving himself.

Risk taker - Max Phillips. Loud and outspoken, Max's mouth is always getting the group into trouble. Good luck to any infected that tries to turn him though, his ego is so big its like a thick candy shell around the vulnerable parts of his brain.

Stealthy - Oberyn Martell. Forget sniping infected from 100 yards away, this man simply sneaks up behind them and with some flourishing footwork they're on the ground with any sharp object he could get his hands on slicing through the flesh of their throat. He's also stealthy in the way he manages to slip into the others' sleeping bags without them evening realizing at the time that they want him to, but that's a headcanon for another post...

Dumbass - Dieter Bravo. It's not that he wants to die, it's just that he seems to occasionally forget that he can't just eat the fungus as if it came in a Ziplock bag that he use to pay 40 bucks a pop for.

Badass - Javier Peña. This man just continuously takes down infected as if they might actually come to an end. He knows that as quickly as he takes down one colony, four more spring up, but he's stubborn and refuses to stop trying, regardless of how tired he is of it all.

Mascot - Javi Gutierrez. He is babygirl. To be protected at all costs.

Distraction - Jack "Whiskey" Daniels. A real root-tootin, gun-blazin cowboy. Jack never needs to be asked twice to go put on a spectacle in the middle of an open field, gathering all the attention so the rest of the group can flank all sides under brush cover. He seems to have nine lives too, narrowly escaping death more times than any other. And he can handle his own. He argued for the spot of Weapons Expert but ultimately was swayed when he realized being the distraction actually meant being the center of attention.

Stereotype - Pero Tovar. One look at this man screams "if anyone was going to survive a zombie apocalypse, it's him"

Sacrifice - Dio. Look, it was his idea. The weird part was that nobody even asked him to.

First Dead - Eddie. It's just facts. In a long line of Pedro Boys deaths, someone had to be first.

Reply or reblog with your own headcanons, I'd love to hear them :)

[lionlena]

Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

🍳 Joel Miller

Joel is not the best cook. Of course, he had to learn how to cook for Sarah, but he always kept things simple.

He is a supporter of one-pot meals. What he cooks for you is really delicious, but simple. There is no culinary madness about it. That's why Joel prefers it when you make dinner.

But it doesn't bother you anyway. Especially since Joel loves making breakfast for you. Whenever he can, he will get up earlier and make you a delicious breakfast: scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles... Everything you like.

And if he finishes making breakfast and you're still asleep, he'll bring you breakfast in bed. He will kiss your forehead and whisper, "Get up, baby girl. I made you coffee and breakfast."

From time to time, Joel will also take you to your favorite little restaurant. This way neither of you has to cook and you can enjoy your time together.

🍽️ Oberyn Martell

Cooking is the last skill he needs, which is why he can't cook. As a prince, he never had to worry about this. Food was always served to him on silver trays. Even when he was a warrior, he didn't have to worry about it.

Of course, if he and you find yourself in a wild desert, he can easily hunt something and roast it over a fire. He would never let his Queen starve to death.

However, you can't count on Oberyn to stand in the kitchen and prepare something for you.

On the other hand, you don't have to do this either. Just tell the servants what you want and your dish will be brought to you after a few minutes.

Oberyn loves to surprise you and organize picnics for you. By the river, in an oasis in the desert, in the gardens... Once he even organized an evening picnic for you on the roof of the palace.

🌮 Javier Peña

Cooking isn't something he's great at. But he is a specialist in making drinks.

For most of his adult life, Javier learned to eat out or buy home-cooked meals.

However, it's not like Javier can't cook anything. There are a few special dishes that his mom taught him to make. And although Javier may feel insecure about his culinary skills at the beginning of your relationship, the longer you are together, the more willing he will be to prepare these dishes for you.

If you cook, you can always count on Javier to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen. After all, he doesn't want your beautiful nails to get damaged.

You just have to sit on the couch and enjoy the drink he prepares for you.

🥞 Jack Daniels

This may come as a surprise, but Jack is very good at cooking. All because he was a mama's boy when he was a kid. He loved helping his mom in the kitchen and cooking with her.

Now he loves cooking for you and you can't help but admire how Jack transforms in the kitchen.

It's so cute to see him without a stetson and jacket, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and wearing an apron with the "Kiss the Cook" written on it.

Sometimes you just can't help yourself and hug him from behind and then steal a piece of carrot or sausage. You then hear his scolding voice: "Sugar, don't steal... Remember your manners."

But you know he's actually smiling and it doesn't bother him at all.

But what Jack does even better than dinner is... Cakes and desserts! You've never eaten such delicious muffins, desserts, croissants... Jack always watches with a wide smile as you eat these sweets, knowing full well that you will reward him later...

🍴 Dave York

Dave doesn't cook, he doesn't even try to learn. He thinks you're better suited for it because you're a woman.

Don't get me wrong, Dave is not some fucking misogynist. He will support you in your career and support your passion and women's rights. He doesn't think that women are only good for cooking and bearing children, but... Dave grew up in a traditional home with a traditional division of roles. And he just never felt like cooking.

You don't even know if he's bad at it because he's just never tried it.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't help you with other household chores. Dave doesn't mind cleaning. In fact, he's actually really good at it, because it's part of his job (cleaning up the crime scene). He can also do laundry or iron his shirts without any problems, but... He stays away from the kitchen.

But that doesn't mean you have to cook all the time. If you don't feel like it, no problem. Dave will make sure to take you out to a restaurant or order takeout at least three times a week. You are his princess and he will never let you think otherwise.

Besides, the kitchen is sometimes not meant for cooking (if you know what I mean.)

🍔 Frankie Morales

To say that Frankie is a disaster in the kitchen is an understatement. Frankie tries really hard, but he can burn anything... You never thought that somebody could burn scrambled eggs.

But he is a great helper in the kitchen. Nobody cuts vegetables as quickly and precisely as Frankie. To top it off, he never has a problem doing shopping for groceries. He doesn't even need a list. Just tell him what dish you want to make and he will know what to buy.

Frankie also knows all the best places to eat cheap and delicious food.

But surprisingly. Frankie is excellent at making barbecue. You don't understand how this is possible, but it is. And no one makes burgers as delicious as Frankie.

🍲 Din Djarin

Din hardly cooks. Most often, he makes broth and always adds too few spices. Sometimes he will also roast what he hunt over the fire, but he doesn't care what he eats.

Years spent as a bounty hunter and many planets visited had taught him to eat anything. Literally everything. Sometimes you think Din's stomach is made of beskar too.

Unfortunately for you, Grogu also has some strange food preferences (like father like son). You've seen him eat a frog more than once! But he, like you, thinks that soup with live 'octopus' is not normal!

That's why you forced Din to add a kitchen to your little house on Nevarro.

"Yes, Din, we need a kitchen!"

And you like cooking, especially for Grogu, who always accompanies you in the kitchen, because this little one is always hungry. But Din appreciates your cooking too, and you know it when he sneaks up behind you while you're cooking and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

🥗 Marcus Pike

Marcus loves cooking for you! And he's great at it, he just needs to have time for it. He used to order takeaway food very often, but not because he didn't like cooking, because he didn't have time.

But since you became his wife, he slowed down, wanting to focus more on family life. Cooking is his form of love language.

Sometimes you even have to force him out of the kitchen and tell him that this time you will make dinner. But even then, Marcus will offer to help you with cleaning and washing the dishes.

Marcus loves experimenting in the kitchen. He doesn't always get everything right, but you always praise him because you love seeing his happy smile and his eyes shining with joy.

If you get pregnant, Marcus will fulfill your strangest kitchen whims.

🧇 Javi G

Javi (like Oberyn) never had to learn to cook, he always had cooks or could afford expensive catering. However, Javi is not against cooking, especially if it makes you happy.

Just tell him what kind of dishes you like. Italian? Mexican? Chinese? No problem. Javi will hire a top chef to give him a cooking lesso.

Then he will proudly cook you your favorite dish. He will watch with impatience and nervousness as you take your first bite. When you tell him that something is delicious, Javi will go crazy with joy.

Of course, he won't finish with just one dish. After all this is Javi! Your hyperactive, passionate husband. So you can count on lots of interesting dishes cooked with love.

But of course Javi will also take you to expensive restaurants. Sometimes he just wants to spend more time with you and hold your hand while you wait for someone else to cook for you.

For the first time, I am ready to cheat on my husband Oberyn with my husband Jack or with Marcus… Oberyn, don't look at me like that, if it weren't for the servants, we would eat fried scorpions every day…

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

[absurdthirst]

Holding Back {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.9k

Warnings: Virgin reader, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of sexual assault, college parties, mentions of virginity, finger, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, mentions of cheating, public confrontations, broken engagement, mentions of past crimes (rape, abuse, murder) confession of love.

Comments: You've been in love with Dave York since you were a child. Growing up with him, you convince him to take your virginity in college, and he gives you one night. One night before he disappears for five years, only to show up at your engagement party. Not realizing his dark past haunts him and threatens to keep him from you.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| 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.

You remember the day your older brother introduced you to his best friend Dave. You were sixteen and in high school. Dave and your brother were in college. He was older and you were in love from the moment you met him. His dark eyes were all you could think about every night and you knew your crush was one sided.

Dave would hang around the house with your brother, who was living at home to save money to put towards a car, and your stomach would explode with butterflies when Dave would come around. When you were seventeen, you and Dave were good friends, the natural progression from Dave always being at your home. You’d watch movies together, go out to eat. You felt like you were bored of high school, ready to get to college and be like them. Yet, you would remind yourself that you haven’t even been kissed. It’s embarrassing, never having a boyfriend while all your friends had dates to prom and all you could do was nurse your crush on Dave.

One night, your brother had gone to bed early, complaining about a headache, and Dave was watching tv with you, his arm thrown over the sofa behind you, and you turned to him. “Can you kiss me?” You ask and his eyes widen. 

“Wh-what?” He chokes and you sigh, “I- I’ve never been kissed. I just - I want you to be my first kiss.” It takes everything you have to ask him, knowing he could reject you and you’d be left with your crush and the embarrassment that he doesn’t want you. Why would he? You’re still in high school. You get lost in your mind while he stares at you in shock.

Dave seriously considers it, wanting to kiss you more than anything. He’s wanted to kiss you for a couple of years even though he knows it’s wrong. You’re too young for him, too innocent. Your brother would kill him. “Sweetheart-“ he frowns slightly and his eyes flicker down to your lips. “I’m too fucked up for you.” You don’t know his background, the broken home he comes from. Your brother hadn’t told you about his past. His father beat the shit out of him and his mother until he had defended himself at sixteen and ended up killing the bastard.

You frown, wondering what he means by that. You want to demand he tells you what he means, explain himself, and you are upset by his rejection but you knew you were kidding yourself about him. He doesn’t feel the same way. “You don’t have to come up with some shitty excuse, York. Just say you don’t wanna kiss me.” You scoff and shift to stand up, wanting to go cry into your pillow. “I’ll, uh, I’m gonna go to bed.” You rush out of the basement and up the stairs to your bedroom, collapsing on your bed to cry about Dave not wanting you.

Huffing, he watches you rush upstairs, wishing that he knew what to say. He’s not good. He knows that. Plus, he’s going to be going into the Marines soon. It would be stupid to start messing with you. You aren’t a one night stand and that’s pretty much all Dave has. You’re the type of woman you marry, have a family with. He sighs and lays back down on the sofa, wishing he could kiss you. He knows you would taste so sweet.

****

After that awkward night, you had tried to avoid Dave but you ended up settling back into your routine with your brother and his friend. Maybe less nights spent with Dave and more with your friends from school. You tried to forget about that night and managed to push it to the back of your mind. Eventually, you graduated high school and ended up in college just as Dave went into the military and your brother stayed for his masters degree. Dave decided that college wasn’t for him not long after that dreadful night where he rejected you, and he joined the Marines. He’s back now from deployment and when you see him at the college party, your heart pounds in your chest. It’s been about two years since you’ve seen him and he still makes your heart skip a beat. That night, your brother had met up with his girlfriend and asked Dave to drive you home, trusting him with your safety. You had only had a beer and you admired his profile as he drove you home. “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t go off with some random girl.” You chuckle, hating that your never ending crush on him makes you hate the girls whose faces you never got to see.

“You are my responsibility tonight.” Dave grunts, glancing over at you with a frown. “I wouldn’t leave you with those drunk fuckers. I’d kill them if something happened to you.” He growls, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he imagines what would happen. What could happen. He’s never liked some of the fuckers at that party and had made sure they steered clear of you. If he left, they might have tried to chat you up.

The protective growl makes your body shiver and he reaches for the AC, "are you cold?" You shake your head, leaning back in your seat to watch him drive. 

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You say and he snorts. 

"I know you can but men...men can be monsters. You should never let your guard down at shitty parties." He orders and you smirk.

"Yes sir." You salute him and he wants to roll his eyes, knowing you are innocent to the dangerous ways of the world. He's seen too much already and he will be damned if he can't protect you as much as he can. "Not like any of them would want me. I'm - well, I'm not the hottest or most popular girl there. I- for fucks sake, I'm a virgin. Why would they want me?"

Dave grunts, his cock twitching when he hears you are completely untouched. He thought for sure that douchebag you had taken to your senior prom had fucked you. “Because you are a virgin.” He looks over at you for a long moment and watches the way you frown slightly at his comment. “Knowing they are the only one to touch you? To fuck a tight, virgin pussy? They wouldn’t care if you were conscious or not. Or if you wanted it.”

Your stomach twists at the very thought. “I- I guess I didn’t think of it like that.” You admit, biting your lip as you stare at him, his jaw is clenched and he’s gripping the steering wheel. You know the words coming from his mouth shouldn’t turn you on but to hear Dave speak so crudely has you clenching around nothing. “What if…what if you solved that problem?” You ask as Dave turns onto your street. 

“What do you mean?” Dave asks, wondering if you want him to kill those assholes. He probably would without hesitation, to keep you untouched. 

“What if you come into my room tonight and fuck me? I want you to take my virginity.” You tell him, heart pounding in your chest. You still have such a painful crush on him, and you know he’d take care of you.

“You’re drunk.” Dave grunts, even though he knows that you’ve only had one beer the entire time you were with him. It’s not alcohol saying that and his cock twitches at the thought of taking you to bed. You aren’t a high school girl anymore, you are an adult. Gorgeous and sexy in a wholesome kind of way. 

“You know I only had one beer.” You protest and he grips the steering wheel even tighter. 

“You want that?” He demands. “I can’t- if I did, it would be one night. Then you would have to get over this little crush you have on me.” He’s trying to protect you. To save you from the demons he has. He wouldn’t be good for you and knows it.

You are shocked, mortified that you haven’t hidden your crush from him, but then you remind yourself that you haven’t exactly been covert. You asked the man to kiss you for God’s sake. “I- one night.” You promise, “one night and that’s all I’ll ask of you.” You assure him, knowing that it won't be enough but it will have to be. You’ll have to live with the memory of having him but never actually having him. It will be one night.

He’s quiet for a minute, waiting for you to change your mind or tell him that he is joking. When you don’t, he swallows harshly. “Tell me now what you don’t want me to do to you.” He demands, knowing that he had very little experience with a virgin. No experience, really. He doesn’t want to make it something that you hate. “All of it. Every last detail.”

You lean towards him as he pulls up outside of the building you point out to him. “Wouldn’t it be easier to tell you everything I want you to do to me?” You tease with a smirk, trying to be more confident despite your stomach twisting with nerves. What if you aren’t good enough for him? 

“Be serious.” He orders and you nod, clearing your throat. 

“I don’t - I don’t want any- I don’t want to be choked. Or spanked. I am not sure if I like that stuff. I don’t want anal.” He snorts, as if he was gonna fuck your ass when you’ve never had sex before. “I don’t want you to be too rough with me.” You know he’s not soft, he never has been, but you hope he could make an exception for you.

Basic sex. He can do that. “I’m going to go down on you.” He decides, knowing that you need to be ready. “Finger you. Make sure you are ready because my dick is big.” He’s not trying to brag, but there have been plenty of girls who were sluts who had complained about taking him. “Are you on birth control?”

You nod, “yes. The pill. I take it for my heavy periods.” You tell him, your entire body already on fire as he kills the engine to his car and you fumble to take your keys out. Your apartment is shared but your roommates will be out still. “Dave.” You beg breathlessly, hand on the car door as you push it open, eager to get inside and have the man you’ve dreamed about since you were sixteen.

Grunting, Dave pushes the car door open. Aware that he is doing something that your brother would kill him for. “You tell me to stop.” He demands. “No matter how guilty you feel or how far we are into this.” He won’t touch you until you promise him that. His soul is stained beyond salvation already, but he won’t blacken it by betraying your trust. “I don’t care if I’m halfway finished - you say something.”

You nod and he reaches out to gently grip your chin as you turn towards him when he shuts the door. “Words, baby.” He orders and your mouth goes dry but you squeak out, “I- I understand.” You fumble with your keys until Dave takes them, opening the front door and he lets you in, his ears and eyes listening for anything as you turn the lights on.

It sounds like you have your place to yourself. “Go into your bedroom and get ready, baby.” Dave orders softly, knowing you might need a few minutes to get ready. “I’m going to get some water.”

You nod and rush into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, and you start to freak out. This is Dave. Fucking. York. The man you’ve wanted for years and he’s going to fuck you, take your innocence. You inhale deeply, trying to calm down, and you clear your throat. Focusing on getting ready, you head into your bathroom to clean up, deciding to put on some lip balm, and you wonder if you should try and find the lingerie you bought on a whim a few months ago but you don’t get to change when Dave is knocking on the door. You check your appearance in the mirror and clear your throat, opening the door to see Dave standing there. “Hi.” You murmur, suddenly nervous, but you won’t change your mind.

He closes the door behind him, flicking the lock and closing the two of you into the space. “Hey.” You’re nervous, he can see that so he sets the glass of water down and kicks off his shoes. Reaching for his shirt to pull it up over his head and toss it aside. Smirking when your eyes widen at the sight of his broad shoulders and abs. It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before but this is different. His dog tags come off, dropping them on your dresser and he steps towards you. “I expected you to be naked.” He chides playfully, his eyes dark. “You wanted me to undress you, baby?”

You swallow harshly, hands lifting and your fingers twitch with the urge to touch him. There’s a scar on his shoulder and you reach up to tentatively touch it. Dave’s eyes shut, allowing himself one moment to be affected by you, before he pushes that aside. “Come on baby.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, hesitating for a moment but you nod, telling him to take it off. He does and your bra is nothing special, cotton and nothing overly sexy but the way Dave’s eyes darken make you feel like the sexiest woman alive.

“Hmmmm.” Dave slides his hands around you, leaning in to hover his lips over yours teasingly. “Always wanted to see these.” He hums, flicking your bra open and pulling back without kissing you to draw the straps down your arms. He wants you to beg him, need him to kiss you.

You lean in to try and press your lips to his but he won’t have it. You huff and he chuckles softly, leaning back to admire your tits and you swallow harshly, enjoying the way he licks his lips and your stomach twists, hoping he likes what he sees. “Dave.” You whimper, reaching up to cup your own tits, squeezing them.

“What do you want, baby girl?” Dave smirks at you, watching the way you waver between flustered virgin and horny. “You have to tell me.” His hands slide down your sides and back up, brushing his fingers under your breasts.

“I want you to touch me.” You let go of your breasts to reach for his hands, bringing them to your chest and you whimper when he eagerly cups your tits. “Dave.” You moan, “please don’t tease. I need you.”

Growling, his hands squeeze your tits, just to the point of hurting you before he eases up. Letting go of one to slide his hand around. Your back and drag you closer so he can kiss you. Pinching your nipple to make you gasp, Dave slides his tongue into your mouth with a moan of approval.

You grab onto his shoulders, loving how every pinch sends tingles down your spine. “Oh fuck, Dave.” You moan into his mouth, hands exploring his shoulders and back. His hands squeeze your tits until they slide down to your ass and he kisses down your neck, making you moan. “Oh God.” You pant when he takes your nipple into his mouth.

He chuckles and bites down on the hard tip, loving the way you shudder and moan for him. Your fingers run over his short, military haircut and he wishes that it was long enough for you to pull. He soothes your nipple with his tongue and then bites it again, wanting it to be tender and for you to want more by the time he’s done.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, his mouth on your breast, and he switches over to the other, offering it the same attention to make you moan his name. “Oh God. I need-” You are breathless and dripping in your cotton panties, needing more from the man bending over you. “Need more.”

He pulls off your breast with a satisfied pop and smirks up at you. “Good girl.” He purrs, squeezing your ass. “Take off your jeans and lay down on your bed. I want to see how wet you are.”

You pull back, nodding as you reach for the button on your jeans and you shove them down along with your panties. You’re bare before him and his dark eyes trail along your body but you feel empowered by it. You shift to lay down, inhaling deeply before you spread your legs to display how wet you are. Your body already feels like it’s on fire and you are struggling to breathe, wanting him so much it hurts.

“Fuck.” Dave huffs, his cock twitching in his jeans and he has to reach down to palm himself. Adjusting before he flicks the button open for a little relief. “I shouldn’t touch you.” He admits, staring at your cunt hungrily. “But I’m going to. I’m going to put my filthy hands on you and take your innocence.”

His words make you whimper, knowing that this is somewhat wrong. He’s your brother’s best friend. “Please baby.” You beg and he kneels on the bed, eyes devouring your cunt like it’s his last meal on earth. You watch him until he surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds. No fanfare, it’s dirty enough to make you squeal and your thighs close around his head until he’s pushing them back, forcing you open for his hungry mouth.

Dave doesn’t stop, groaning at the taste of your sweet pussy. Keeping your thighs pushed back so he can flick his tongue over your clit before he slides down to push his tongue inside your soaked walls, wanting you to scream his name in pleasure before he fills you with his cock.

You gasp at the sensation, so foreign yet so damn good. “Oh shit.” You whimper, reaching down to push on his head. Instinct driving you to demand more from him. “Oh fuck Dave. More.” You plead and you moan when his nose pushes against your clit. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and you’re addicted to it, to him.

He would pull away, tease you for being so damn greedy but he can’t. Not when you are trying to roll your hips down and chase your pleasure. He groans, moving one hand so he can flick his tongue over your clit while sinking a finger into your tight, virgin cunt.

It’s an odd sensation but enjoyable, his finger pushing inside of you and you rock your hips up into his mouth, never seeming to get enough. “Oh fuck, Dave.” You pant when he pushes another finger inside of you, stretching you and it stings a little but you like it. His tongue flicks over your clit again and again and you are soon lost as you clamp down on his fingers, a moan escaping your lips as you cum.

He can feel how wet you get. The rush of heat over his fingers makes him groan happily. Feeling them squelch as he sucks your clit into his mouth to overstimulate you. Your hips jerk up and you gasp out his name as he sucks. Blindly pushing at his head when it’s too much for you and he finally lets go with one last flick of his tongue as he scissors his fingers and pushes a third finger in.

He’s stretching you out and pulling you apart, making you whimper at how good it feels to have him like this. His fingers push deeper inside of you with each pump of his wrist and your hands scramble to find a grip on the sheets. “Dave. Shit.” You cry when his thumb presses against your clit, changing the angle.

“Good girl.” Dave growls out, turning his head and nipping your thighs with his teeth. “You’re gonna cum for me again. Not gonna fuck you until you do. Until you can take every inch of my cock. Then I’ll take your virginity, baby girl.” He feels the way you clench down around him when he talks to you, figuring that you like his voice. He is a harsh man in a lot of ways, but he wants this to be something you never forget and look back on with a fondness that lasts.

His words combined with his voice has you thrashing and he throws his arm over your waist, wanting to keep you still. “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You pant, knowing you’ll never feel like this again after tonight has your heart clenching. One night only then you’ll move on. “Oh shit.” You hiss in pleasure when he curls his finger and it doesn’t take long for him to pull you apart piece by piece until you’re clamping down on his digits once again.

Dave groans when you come apart for him again. Knowing that in just a minute he will be sliding inside you again. He can’t tell you how many times he has jerked off thinking about you. Wanting you. He can’t have you. Because of your brother, his own past. But he can have this. He can be the only one who can claim that he is your first. Kissing your hip while he feels you cum, having you melt into a puddle. “Good girl. Such a good girl for me.” 

“Your good girl.” You murmur, lost in the haze of your orgasm. It’s insane how good you feel, nothing from your own hand has ever felt like this. Dave shuffles off of the bed after he withdraws his fingers, sucking on them while he works on pushing down his pants with one hand. When his fingers are clean, he shoves them down along with his briefs and your eyes widen as you sit up to see his cock. “Wow. I- Wow. I see what you mean.” You murmur, knowing he would have hurt you if he had fucked you without foreplay.

Smirking at you, Dave wraps his hand around his cock and slowly pumps it. He’s been hard since you first mentioned taking your virginity and he smears the precum around the tip. “You want me to wear a condom baby?” He asks seriously. He doesn’t care if you are on birth control, he wants you to be comfortable with the protection you have. “I- it’s been awhile since I’ve fucked anyone and my last test came back clean. But I don’t care. If you want me to get a rubber…” he has one in his wallet.

You shake your head, knowing you’re only going to get this one time with Dave and you want to experience everything you can. “No condom. I- I’m strict with my birth control. I promise.” He nods, pumping his cock for another moment until he’s kneeling on the bed and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him. “Dave.” You whisper, feeling how velvety and hard he is.

“Fuck.” Dave grunts, enjoying the feeling of your hand around him. You aren’t squeezing him hard enough but your innocence makes him twitch. “Lean back baby.” After a minute of you slowly stroking him, he can’t take it anymore. Betting your hand away so he can shuffle closer and nudge the head of his cock against your soaked entrance. “Ready, baby girl?”

You exhale shakily, nervous, but you nod. “Yes. I’m ready.” You promise and he starts to push inside of you. It’s a strange feeling but not painful, you watch him as he pushes deeper, slowly rocking his hips to work you open and his jaw is clenching. You slide your hands down his chest, resting your palm over his heart, enjoying the way it pounds under your touch.

“Fuck.” He hisses, wanting to close his eyes and savor the feeling of your hot, tight walls wrapping around him. But he can’t. Not when he gets to watch your face. See the changes as he finally pushes deep and is embedded completely inside you. So deep that he doesn’t know if he could ever pull out. “Fuck, baby girl. Feel so good.”

You caress his chest, adjusting to him, and you whimper when he twitches inside of you. “Dave. You- you feel so big inside of me.” He’s stretching you out and you are certain you have never felt so complete. It’s like this is meant to be. “I- oh baby. I want you to move.”

Dave grunts, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours while he slides his arms under your back. He’s going to move slowly to start, giving you the friction you need and still giving you more time to adjust. “So fucking tight.” He huffs against your lips.

You lift your legs up onto his hips, sending him impossibly deeper inside of you. “Fuck. Oh shit.” You pant, tossing your head back and he eagerly kisses down your neck. Your hands caress his shoulders and back, nails scratching when he hits something deep inside of you.

Chuckling breathlessly, Dave concentrates on pulling you apart. Deep, measured thrusts tailored to make sure that you feel every inch of him inside you. Loving the way that your cunt squeezes him. “Love it, don’t you?” He grunts out, nipping your chin before kissing your lips again.

You sigh into his mouth, wanting to confess that you love him but you can’t ruin this. He will pull away and you couldn’t take that right now. “Love it. So much.” You pant when his fingers find your clit, and your walls flutter around him. “Shit. That - oh God that’s good.”

Dave groans, rocking his hips as he rubs your clit. Wanting to feel you cum around him. This is his only chance to touch you and he wants it. Wants you to cum so he can change positions. Put your legs up on his shoulders and destroy you. Then put you on your knees and make you scream his name. Take you all the ways that he imagined fucking you for when you stay away from him. 

“Fuck. Oh yes. Yes. Just like that, baby.” You pant, eyes closing as the pressure builds inside of you. It takes a few more rocks of his hips and you’re falling apart. “Fuck.” You moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum.

“Shit, shit.” Dave has to stop moving, too close to blowing his load when you start to cum. Holding himself deep inside you while he rubs your clit and feels your cunt fluttering around him. “Jesus, baby, you’re so fucking good.” He praises, watching your face while you ride out your first orgasm on a cock, his cock. “You’re going to be so fucking tired when I’m done with you.” He promises. 

You already feel dazed, offering him a lazy smile, and you caress his chest. “Fuck. I want more.” You chuckle breathlessly, already craving more of him and you know that this time won’t be enough but it will have to last you a lifetime without the man you love. “More.” You demand, squeezing him with your walls.

He hums, sliding his hands down to your legs and starts to lift them up onto his shoulders. Turning his head to bite one of your calves before he folds you over and presses them back towards your head. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He cautions you, knowing that he will want to fuck you harder than he had been for your first orgasm. Pulling his hips back and plunging back into your tight cunt with a harsh snap of his hips down. 

You practically scream, the new angle makes him feel even bigger and you cling to his forearms. “Oh shit!” You squeal, cunt squelching as he starts to push deep inside of you. “Fuck! Baby!” You throw your head back, nails digging into his arms and you whimper at the feel of him inside of you.

Dave grits his teeth, hissing as he fucks you. Harder and faster than before, every thrust is designed to make you squeal. Making sure you will remember the night that he fucked you. He feels your walls clench around him as he holds your legs and pushes them down even more. “Fuck, so good for me. Letting me fuck you like this.”

Each thrust has you falling apart at the seams, whines and squeals escaping your lips as you become completely entrapped by him. “Fuck. Dave! Dave!” You scream, cunt dripping onto your sheets until he pushes your legs back just a tiny bit more and hits something that makes you shake. It’s devastating and each thrust makes you feel like you’re about to pee. When your orgasm hits, it destroys you, stars flashing in your eyes as you soak him with a torrent of your cum.

The way you soak him makes him shudder. Stomach clenching and your thighs shake next to his head. The way you cry out his name sticks while him, searing into his brain and he knows it will be a sound he never forgets. Dave hisses as he pulls back looking down at where you drip down his stomach and pelvis, soaking your bed underneath your ass. “Fucking shit.” He smirks, pulling out of you and reaching down to flip you over. “One more and then I’ll cum.” 

You’re already exhausted, unsure of if you could handle another orgasm, but then you remind yourself that tonight is the only time you’ll have Dave like this. Your body shakes as he pulls you back onto your knees and you fall forward onto your elbows, ass in the air, and you gasp when he swats it. “Oh. I- I like that.” You admit, knowing you told him you weren’t sure if you wanted to be spanked but the feel of his hand on your ass makes you shiver with delight. “Do- do it again.” You request, looking over your shoulder at him.

Smirking, Dave’s hand connects with your ass and he puts a little more force behind it. “You are fucking filthy.” He mocks you, slapping your ass again before you can even beg for another one after he hears you cry out. “Such a little slut.” He knows you aren’t a slut, you have only had one man. Him. His cock slides back into you and he groans as he slaps your ass once more, enjoying that your ass has his raised handprints on the globes.

You gasp as he pushes deep and his hand comes down on your ass again. “Fuck! Dave!” You cry, fingers curling into your sheets as he starts to fuck you hard and fast. It has you gasping for air as he knocks the breath out of you but it’s so good. Sweat beads on your forehead and you moan when his hands squeeze your ass, using it as leverage to thrust harder. “Oh. Oh. Ohhh.” You warble, losing your ability to think at this stage, only able to feel him inside of you.

This position is for him. Watching your ass bounce as his cock plunges into you. Rocking your hips back as he pushes forward. Fucking you exactly like he has wanted to. “Fuck.” He groans your name, speeding up his thrusts until he can barely do more than grunt. 

You can't do anything but let him fuck you. Your body almost vibrates from each thrust into you and you rest your cheek on the sheets. "Fuck." You squeak, reaching beneath you to try and rub your clit. You want to cum again, feeling it build up inside of you.

He knows that he will leave bruises under your skin. He wants to leave them. Wants you to feel him long after he’s done with you. Remind you that he was inside you, that he had touched you. He watches the way your hand sinks between your thighs and you start to rub your clit. “Greedy.” He grunts, smirking at the way you are chasing your pleasure. 

You know you'll think of this long after he's gone, will possibly feel him for days, and you want to savor every moment of pleasure you can take from him. You reach behind you to grab his hand from your hip, bringing it to your clit. "Yes I am." You want him to take over, to completely own your body, possess it until he leaves your bed.

Dave chuckles, making sure that his hips slap against your ass. His fingers circle your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to make you squeeze him like a vice. Enjoying how fucking tight you get when your cunt flutters. If he was the type of man to keep someone, he would keep you. Just like this. Around his cock all day, every day. 

“Oh shit, Dave. Baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me- oh. Oh fuck!” Your voice cracks as you cum once again. Your body almost protests it but it can’t deny Dave as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him. You collapse forward, unable to remain on your knees as your body shakes against the mattress.

Following you down to the bed, Dave doesn’t stop fucking into you. Grinding his cock deep and reaching up and wrapping his hand around your shoulders to pull your head back. When your head turns, he presses his lips to your messily. Grunting and groaning as he fucks into you just five or six more thrusts before he buries his cock deep and starts to fill you. Painting your walls with hot spurts of cum. 

You moan into his mouth, reaching back to grab his neck to push his mouth harder against yours while he rides out his orgasm. His cock twitches inside of you for several long moments before he stops, kissing you with his tongue sliding against yours. When he pulls back, you slump down to the bed. “Holy fuck.” You smile, absolutely exhausted. You’re not sure if you could move.

His hand caresses your hip gently as he chuckles. Pulling out of you to watch his cum well up and slide down your lips as your cunt flutters and pushes him out. “Now, you aren’t a virgin.” He grunts proudly. “Stay here. I’ll get a rag.” He shuffles off the bed and pads towards the door. Looking back at you slumped down on your bed and smirking at the way he wrecked you. No way you wouldn’t forget this. 

You let him clean you up and you aren’t sure what you expected. Maybe for him to get in the bed beside you but he grabs you some water and a snack from the kitchen before he starts to dress. “You don’t want to stay?” You ask, knowing you’re pushing him but you don’t want this night to be over yet.

“You know I can’t stay.” He glances over at you as he pulls his pants up and tucks his cock away. If he stayed, you would hope that this could turn into something more. He knows that you have more than a crush on him, you think that you are in love with him, but you aren’t. You can’t be. Not if you know what he is. Reaching for his shirt to put on. “Watch your drinks, make sure you keep your fucking taser on you.” Dave instructs you. “Tase them in the fucking balls if they don’t take no for an answer.” He knows he will be deploying soon and he wants you to listen to his advice. “Only fuck someone if you want to.” 

You nod, watching him as your heart breaks. He doesn’t feel the same way and it’s obvious. You promised him you’d move on and you’ll try. You’ll try to forget about him but you know no one will ever be able to compare, no one will make you feel like he has tonight. You shift to sit up, uncaring of being naked as he finishes dressing. You stand on shaky legs and he reaches out to steady you. You reach up to cup his cheek, “I know you could only give me tonight and I promise I’ll try to move on but I want you to know I love you. It’s always been you, Dave. Be safe. Please.” You beg, eyes burning into his.

You collapse against him and his arm wraps around your waist, keeping you close, and you whimper at the way he’s kissing you like you’re the only thing in his world. It makes your heart pound and break at the same time, knowing you can’t be together. It’s too complicated. You let him kiss you for as long as he allows until he’s pulling back, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” He promises and you nod, tears stinging in your eyes as he reaches for his car keys.

****

It’s been five years since he’s seen you. Five years of glancing at your social media to see what you have been up to since he had gone dark. Deploying three times within a year just so he wouldn’t be tempted to come back to see you. The only reason he is here now is because of what this is. Your brother inviting him to your engagement party. Some asshole that you had apparently moved on to. He was happy for you, but fuck if he isn’t jealous. Keeping the memory of you with him as he had moved from the military to the private sector. Nearly dying two years ago when a mission went south, he had left the military and joined the DIA. No excuse not to come to this party to celebrate your upcoming marriage. Adjusting his tie, Dave opens the door and steps inside the venue, looking around for you or your brother. 

You are talking to your future mother-in-law when you look across the room and see him. It’s been five years and you still feel breathless when you see him. Heart lurching and you swear it’s like you’re back in college, like no time has passed. You excuse yourself from your future mother-in-law, about to make your way across the room, when your hand is taken by Matthew. Your fiancé. He’s sweet, predictable, and safe. Everything Dave isn’t. He has these beautiful blue eyes and you know he could make you happy, that’s why you accepted his proposal, knowing that Dave hasn’t ever come back into your life…until now. That night, the night he took your virginity. You hate him for it. No one else has compared. No one has ever made you feel like that. Sure, you’ve had more partners since that night until you met Matthew, but you only orgasm remembering the way Dave wrecked you. Matt is sweet, always going down on you and he tries to help you finish with toys but it’s not the soul consuming orgasms you had with Dave. 

“Hey baby.” You greet Matt who has been circling the room and he leans in to kiss your cheek while your brother finds Dave. 

“Hey man. Fuck, you’re actually here. Thought you’d have some work bullshit to deal with and bail at the last minute.” He greets his best friend while Matt guides you over to his boss, wanting to introduce you.

“Nah, I made time for this.” Dave keeps his eyes on you as you move towards him. Smirking slightly when he realizes that this is who you are marrying. One of his dopey analysts. Matthew Tate was as boring as his name sounded, the proverbial nice guy who seemed to actually believe that he is saving the world. He straightens slightly, his eyes narrowing on where Matthew’s arm is around your waist and he nearly snorts. If it were him, he would have his hand on your ass. “Tate.” he greets the man, reaching out and shaking his hand with a slightly overpowering grip. “Hell of a party.” 

“Thanks sir. My girl has always wanted something classy so you know how it goes, happy wife, happy life.” He winks at you, “well, soon. We are trying to figure out the wedding date.” Matt says, squeezing your waist with his other hand that isn’t on fire from Dave’s ridiculously tight handshake. You are shocked. Matt had mentioned his boss David but you never put two and two together. Of course, your fiancé works for the man who ruined you five years ago. You want to scream and cry but instead, you step towards Dave. “It’s so good to see you again.” You say as you recover, needing to play your part, and you lean in to kiss Dave on the cheek, “I didn’t know you and Matt worked together.”

Dave hums, wrapping his arms around you tightly for a hug and is pleased to find that you still fit perfectly. Your smell has changed, become more sophisticated than the berry blast body spray you had worn in college but the elegant floral notes of your perfume suit  you. “Hello sweetheart.” He murmurs softly, catching the confusion on Matthew’s face. He eases back from you and gives your fiancé a small shrug. “I grew up with her brother.” He reaches out and slaps your brother on the back. “Small world.” 

Matt nods, “ah, that’s a coincidence.” He smiles and pulls you back into his side, making you stiffen a little. You love Matt, he’s a good person, but you’re not in love with him. Seeing Dave is hard, he’s even more handsome now he’s aged a little and you hate that your stomach twists with attraction. You’re at your engagement party, you shouldn’t feel like this. You love Matt, you internally remind yourself. You sigh and reach for Matt’s hand. 

“We should go speak to my parents.” You say and Matt nods, letting you guide him through the crowd. 

Your brother looks back towards Dave, “he’s a good guy, right?” He asks his friend, unaware of the tension between his best friend and his sister.

“He’s fine.” Dave grunts, propping his hands on his hips as you hug your mother. His eyes stay on you, sliding up and down your figure. “Boring and predictable. Not an operator.” Your brother knows what Dave has done, it was another reason why he would never approve if he knew that Dave had touched his little sister. He would try to beat the shit out of Dave. “He doesn’t do more than sit behind a desk and give me information that I already know.” 

Your brother snorts, “yeah. He’s a bit of a pussy but that’s not a bad thing. He’s safe, stable, secure. Good for her.” He says and Dave swallows, knowing he’s none of those things. You try to avoid Dave as long as possible, introducing Matt to your friends and meeting his, you spend the evening smiling despite not truly being happy. 

You finally have enough and need a break. You exhale when you enter the bathroom, looking in the mirror, and you hate that you are miserable. Matt doesn’t make you feel like you’re on fire. Dave did that with a fucking hug. You shake your head, trying to push him out of your mind when the door opens and you look up to see Dave entering the bathroom. “Mens is next door.” You sigh, not turning to face him.

“Don’t need to take a piss.” Dave smirks as he leans against the sink and watches you check your reflection in the mirror. Reaching up to smudge a bit of your mascara that has run and Dave hates the fucking lipstick on your lips. Knowing that he can’t kiss you without it showing. “So you’re going to marry this asshole?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Really? Out of everyone you could have had? Could still have?”

You sigh, turning to face him. "Why are you here? It's been five years and you haven't even sent me a damn text. I didn't invite you here, Dave. I- shit - Matt is...he's predictable. Sure, it's boring but he's safe and I - I haven't - I couldn't move on. That night still haunts me and I hate you for that. I hate that I compare every man I meet to you. I hate that none of them are you. We aren't - it won't happen between us, so just let me be as happy as I can considering the fact that I am still fucking in love with you. Just - please. Leave me alone." You plead, closing your eyes as your heart clenches in pain.

It’s wrong the way that his heart leaps at your confession. He should want you to move on, encourage it. But he’s greedy. He loves knowing that he’s infected you the same way you have him. He won’t lie and say he’s never slept with anyone since that night, you wouldn’t believe that. However, no one has stayed in his mind like you have. Reaching over, Dave grabs your chin and holds your face while reaching for one of the napkins in the little basket next to the sink. Wanting to wipe off that lipstick so he can kiss you. “I’ll never leave you alone.” He growls softly.

You’re frozen while he wipes your lipstick off and tosses the napkin into the trash can. “You did. You left for five years. Told me to move on.” You growl, swatting his hand away. “Don’t - I’m not a stupid girl anymore. I don’t need you to kiss me and then send me back out there to be with Matt. I can’t do that to him. Dave. Please. Just go.” You beg, knowing your control is slipping, especially when he reaches for your waist to drag you against him. “Please.” You whimper pathetically, knowing you’ve lost the battle.

“Shut up.” Dave huffs, knowing that he should walk away. Leave you with your conscience intact and your pride but he’s jealous. Hates the idea of that boring fuck touching you. Not making you cum. He decides that he won’t kiss you after all. Turning you around, his hands come up to pull your dress down, exposing your tits to his view in the mirror before he slides a hand up your dress. “When was the last time he made you cum so hard your legs gave out?” He demands as he slides his hand into your lace panties and finds your cunt waxed, making him growl jealously. “Fuck. This for him?”

You already look wrecked as you watch yourself in the mirror, having let him pull your tits out of the pretty dress you’d picked out for tonight and his fingers caressing your mound. You smirk, giggling softly to taunt him, “yeah. For Matt. He loves it.” You tease Dave, knowing it will rile him up. “Makes him wanna go down on me. Won’t do it otherwise.” You confess with a huff, leaning your head on his shoulder so you can feel all of him against you.

“Pussy.” Dave grunts, sneering at the idea of not wanting to go down on you. He’s fucking dreamed of the way you taste, the way you respond to his tongue. He pulls his hand away to shove your panties down, wanting you to see him touch you as he pinches your nipple. “Fuck baby, you still look so goddamn pretty.” He huffs, hard cock twitching against your ass.

You shouldn’t let him do this. It’s wrong. It’s cheating on Matt. Yet one look in those dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror has you throwing away every moral you have. Your soul is blackened by Dave York from the moment you saw him in the events room and you know you won’t be able to move on. “Dave.” You whimper, needing him to touch you after you’ve dreamed of it for five fucking years. “Please.” You beg pathetically. 

When his fingers find your clit, you moan and he covers your mouth with his hand. “Can’t let anyone know, baby girl.” He says and your moans are muffled in his palm as his fingers work your clit.

Dave pants in your ear, watching as your eyes roll back every time his fingers circle your clit. Loving how you are pushing back against his cock and moaning into his palm. Your slick pours out of your cunt, making it slippery and his wrist twists, pressing his thumb against your nerves so he can slide two fingers deep into your pussy. Making you gasp out and he wonders how often your Matt finger fucked you stupid like you need to be. “That’s it, baby girl. So wrecked for me.” He coos in your ear quietly. “Anyone could walk in and see you getting fingered right now, you know that?” 

You know the news that he didn’t lock the door should make you shove him away and forget this happened, but it only turns you on more. To have someone see you and Dave, for it to be reality outside of the two of you, has your walls fluttering around his digits. “Oh. Dirty girl likes that.” He chuckles softly and you whimper, nodding as he lowers his hand from your mouth so he can squeeze your breast. 

“Dave.” You pant, trying to grind back against him.

“I know.” His cock is throbbing against your ass as he works his fingers up into you faster. Watching your pants and feeling your body start to tremble from his touch. “Every time I jerk off, I think about that night.” He confesses quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Think about how you felt around me. How you sounded as I took your virginity.” 

His words make you clench around his fingers, knowing that he jerks off thinking about that night nearly sends you over the edge, his fingers curling deeper. "Oh shit. Me - me too. Think about it when - when Matt is fucking me." You confess shamelessly, uncaring of anything right now other than the way Dave is making you feel. "Please baby. I need - oh God." You whine when you start to cum around his digits.

“Yesssss.” Dave hisses, tightening his hold on you and curling his fingers deeper. Loving how you soak his fingers and grip them tight. “That’s it, baby girl.” He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit while your hips jerk and your legs threaten to give out under you. His body is the only thing keeping you upright while you ride out your intense orgasm. He kisses your jaw and ear. “Good girl.” 

You pant, loving how good you feel. The most intense orgasm since he fucked you that night he took your virginity. You turn your head to press your lips to his, "I love you. I still fucking love you." You whine, wanting him to know how you feel. That Matt could never compare.

Groaning into your mouth, Dave pulls his fingers out of your cunt and starts to pull your panties back up into place. Knowing he has to let you go back out there. You love him, and he loves you but you are engaged to Matt. He’s at your engagement party for Christ’s sake. “I love you.” He whispers hoarsely. “Always have. That was never the problem.” He starts to pull you top back into place with another soft kiss before he reluctantly lets you go. 

“Dave.” You frown when he steps away from you. “I can’t - I don’t understand. You just - we just - you can’t just walk away again.” You shove his chest, “I just cheated on my fiancé and I can’t marry him. I don’t- oh God. I feel sick.” You choke, knowing that you’ve ruined everything for Dave. He’s never going to love you the way you want him to. He’s never going to want to get married and have kids.

“You deserve better than me, baby girl.” Dave closes his eyes and shakes his head. Guilty for making you feel bad, but he doesn’t regret touching you. He’s never going to regret touching you. “I’ve done too many bad things, I’m not the man you think that I am.” He wants you to understand this. To know that his soul is tarnished. 

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “I know you Dave. I know you.” You promise, knowing he’s done bad things. You assumed it since he’s been in a secretive branch of the military. “I need to - I need to tell Matt. Maybe he will forgive me.” You choke, lowering your hands, when Dave doesn’t say anything. You know this is just a game to him, to make you react to him before he walks away for the umpteenth time.

Dave weighs his options, knowing that if he tries to walk away from you, he will lose you forever. “You aren’t asking for forgiveness for shit.” He grunts, reaching out and grabs your wrist to pull you closer again. “You aren’t going to be sorry for this. You didn’t do anything. I did. I touched you. And I’m not fucking sorry.” He spits right before he crushes his lips to yours. 

You melt against him, unable to stop yourself, and you tangle your fingers in his hair. No longer the required length for the military, it’s just the right length for you to tangle your fingers in. His tongue slides against yours and he crowds you against the bathroom counter, his hands sliding down your dress and you finally come back to yourself. Swatting his hands away, “stop. Stop. I- I need to- God. I-” You surge forward to press your lips to his, addicted to him now you have had your second taste of him.

He smirks against your lips, letting you take charge of the kiss this one time. Wanting to feel how you want to touch him. Enjoying the way that you slide your tongue against his until he gently pushes you away. Reaching up and smoothing your hair back. “What do you need, baby?” He asks, like he hasn’t just been affected by the kiss.

“I don’t know.” You admit breathlessly. “I- I love Matt, I do.” Your words make him frown, “I do. He’s a good guy. But he’s not you. You do this - God, how do you do this to me?” You laugh humorlessly as you step back from him. “I’m so fucking in love with you but you hold the power to destroy me. Dave…I need you to tell me what you want from me.”

“I want you to take off that piece of shit ring and give it back to Tate.” He growls, stepping forward to reclaim the space between you. “I want you to come home with me tonight. Every fucking night. I want to tell you who I am, what I’ve done and not realize that you will leave me for it.” He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but it’s the truth. He knows you would leave him if you know what he’s done.

You frown, wondering what he means by that. You know you’ve already signed your fate away for him. You’ve always been his. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating, the only give away to his nerves on his otherwise steely face. “I don’t know what you’ve done but I know you. I love you, the good and the bad. I can’t - I need to speak to Matt.” You tell him, knowing you can’t spend anymore time in this bathroom. You have to go out and face your fate. “If you want me, I’m yours.” You promise, sliding your hands down his chest until you can fiddle with the ring on your finger. “Wait for me.” You beg, knowing you’ll need to make a swift exit. With one last look at Dave after you open the door, you find Matt in the crowd. 

“Can I speak to you?” You ask and he nods, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Of course baby.” You take his hand from your waist and guide him towards the private room in the event hall where the purses and coats are kept. 

“I- I can’t do this. I’m so sorry. I can’t marry you.” You tell him and his eyes widen. 

“Why? Baby, don’t be silly. It’s just nerves.” 

You shake your head, “no. I - I don’t - I love you but I’m not in love with you. I’m not enough for you. I can’t give you everything. I- I’m so sorry. You deserve a good girl. Someone who will love you and won’t always be wondering what if with someone else.” 

Matt’s eyes narrow in confusion. “Is there someone else?” He accuses you and you nod. 

“I shouldn’t have accepted your proposal knowing I could never give you my whole heart. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” You plead, sliding the ring off of your finger to place it in his hand.

Dave stands next to the door, having already collected your purse and coat from that room. Listening just in case Matt decides to surprise him and make a scene. “Who is it?” Matt demands, sounding like he is about to cry. “Have you been cheating on me?” Dave knows you feel guilty but you shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. You - you know how much I love you. This can still work.” He begs softly. “Please don’t do this. You just have jitters.”

“I’m sorry.” You step back from him, tears stinging in your eyes. “It’s not jitters. It’s - I - I promise you I didn’t cheat on you.” You lie, knowing you will lose sleep over that but it’s easier to be kind. “Be happy.” You plead, leaning up to kiss his cheek and he shakes his head, “I don’t understand.” 

You glance around for your coat and purse but realize it’s missing. Dave must’ve gotten it. You open the door to find Dave waiting there and you swallow harshly as Matt comes to stand behind you.

There’s one thing about Matthew Tate, and it’s that he’s not stupid. He analyzes intelligence for a living. His eyes widen when he sees Dave standing there. “So that’s what it is?” He swallows harshly and shakes his head. “You’re ending what we have for a man who kills people?” In his distraught state, Matthew doesn’t care about things like classified information. He grabs your arm to keep you from walking away. “You really want to sleep next to him?” He demands. “A man who beat his own father to death when he was a teenager? Had to get a waiver to get into the military because of that?”

You glance back at Dave, knowing you have so many questions, but you can’t marry Matt now. Even if Dave has withheld his past from you. “It doesn’t matter. I- I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.” You pull out of his grip and everyone is noticing now, wondering what is happening. 

“Fine.” Matt snorts, “don’t come back to me when you realize you’re with a monster.” Matt has read the reports, knows how violent Dave is. “You’ll be one of his victims in one way or another.” Matt warns and you step back towards Dave. Your brother is confused, stepping forward to see what the situation is. “Oh, it’s your brother. Does he know that you’ve been fucking his best friend?” Matt chuckles sharply.

Your brother chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head. “You’re wrong about that, Matt.” He snorts. “Dave looks at her like his own sister.” Turning towards his friend, he is expecting him to laugh with him, fully aware of Dave’s exploits when they were younger but he just stares back at him. The smile on your brother's face dies and is replaced with a frown. “Dave- you didn’t.” He growls, face starting to twist in fury. “Tell me you didn’t fucking touch my sister!” He hisses, reaching out and grabbing Dave’s jacket. Dave won’t fight back. He won’t raise a fist to your brother because he deserves this. He’s deserved it for five years so he doesn’t even try to defend himself when your brother draws his fist back and slams it into Dave’s jaw.

“Stop! Stop!” You grab your brother’s arm to stop him from punching Dave. “It wasn’t him! It was years ago. I asked him. Shit. Just don’t punch him. I asked him to fuck me.” You don’t mention that Dave took your virginity because your brother would definitely punch him. God, this night has become a disaster. Your darkest secrets exposed in front of your nearest and dearest. “Please. I want to go.” You beg your brother, “don’t hurt him. I- I love him. I’m in love with him.”

“You fucker!” Your brother hisses at Dave, shoving him away from him. “I trusted you to look after her!” 

Dave rubs his jaw and shakes his head slightly. “I’m not going to hit you back.” He growls, glaring at him, “because you’ve been my best friend for nearly twenty years. She made up her mind herself. I didn’t try to take advantage of her.”

Your brother shakes his head, “I can’t fucking believe you. I told you to stay away from her.” 

You know everyone can hear what’s happening and you are mortified, but also know that you can’t change it now. “I love him. Please don’t make me lose him again.” You plead with your brother, your mother watching in shock. 

Your brother scoffs, “you have no idea who he is. I was trying to protect you.” He shakes his head and waves his hand. “Get her out of here.” He orders Dave, not wanting to see you or Dave right now.

Nodding, Dave wraps his arm around your waist and starts to guide you through the crowd. Ignoring people’s curious looks and pushing past them if he has to in order to get you through the doors and outside. His car is parked close by and he huffs as he steers you towards it. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly, knowing you are upset over the scene that just happened.

You don’t say a word as you get into his car. Looking out of the window as he pulls away from the parking lot to drive you to his place. “Well that was a shit show.” You finally say and Dave snorts, “yeah. It was.” You sigh and turn to look at him, saying your brother’s name. “Do you think he will forgive us?”

“You for sure.” Dave answers, unsure if his friend, the man he considered a brother, would ever get over the betrayal of him touching you. “He loves you.” It hurts to think about losing him, because he has known him better than anyone but he doesn’t regret touching you. He reaches over and touches your thigh. “I know you are embarrassed and I’m sorry. I should have waited out in the main room.”

You reach for his hand on your thigh, tangling your fingers with his. “It was all gonna come out at some point. It wasn’t ideal but everyone would’ve found out one way or another. At least now it’s come out and we can deal with the fallout. God, I feel so guilty. So selfish for doing this.” You sigh, looking out of the window. “But I don’t regret it. I meant it, Dave. I’m yours if you want me.”

Dave pauses for a second, mulling over your comment and he squeezes your fingers. “Ask me.” He demands quietly, wondering why you aren’t demanding to know what Matt was talking about as soon as you got in the car. How could you promise to be with him if you didn’t know him? Especially because he wasn’t the type of man to let you go if you became his. 

You sigh, knowing that this conversation has to happen but you were hoping to get settled first. Dave has always been a mystery but it’s never concerned you. He’s treated you well. Never hurt you. Yet you know you need those questions answered before anything more can happen between you. “What happened with your dad?” You ask softly, almost cautiously.

Dave grunts, keeping his eyes on the road. Not wanting to see pity or horror in your pretty eyes. “Man was a fucking monster.” He tells you. “Behind closed doors, of course. Everyone liked Mike York. He was a stand up guy.” He sneers sarcastically. “Until he got drunk and decided that it was fun to beat the shit out of his family, rape his wife.” When Dave was younger, the screams had scared him until he was taking the beatings. 

Then he was angry and unable to defend himself and his mother. Closing himself off from emotions as a survival method. It’s difficult to be abused and either not break or simply harden. His mother had broken, but Dave had become hard. Your brother had been the only one who knew at the time. The bruises were well concealed under his clothes to keep up appearances. 

“When I was sixteen….God, he had fucking knocked back the liquor.” His fingers twitch in your hand, remembering the sounds. “He was pissed he couldn’t get it up. Blaming her for not being woman enough.” It makes him sick, curling in his stomach and it was a large part of why he demanded someone let him know the second they didn’t like something. He was nothing like that bastard. “So he was beating the shit out of her. Thought he was going to kill her that time. I broke through the door and just…..started hitting him.” He remembers the sick crack, the dull thuds of his fists and then the squelch it made when the tissue turned soft, the blood spurting every time he hit him again. “I didn’t stop until the police pulled me off of him.” The only thing that had saved his ass was your brother knowing about the ongoing abuse and the obvious assault on his mother when the police arrived. Still, some had thought Dave was the monster who had killed a prominent member of the community. 

You turn your head to stare at the man you love. Hearing him say that he had killed his abusive father at sixteen years of age to protect his mother makes your stomach twist. Your heart breaks for him. “Oh baby.” You gasp, “I’m so sorry. You - you shouldn’t have had to do that. Your mom didn’t deserve that. Oh shit. I- I’m so sorry.” Tears start to stream down your cheeks with sorrow for your lover.

“Don’t cry for me.” Dave chides, letting go of your hand and reaching up to wipe away your tears. “I’m not worth that. But Matthew was right.” He tells you gruffly, hating that you are crying for him. “I - I had to get a waiver to join the Marines. Because of my ‘violent’ past.” The military hadn’t cared once they had him pass a psych eval. He was slotted for special ops because he already had the emotional disconnect needed to do the things they wanted him to do. “I killed in the Marines. I was- it was what I did then, it’s what I do now. I still take out people on a list.” 

You shake your head, “you were doing your job. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Take out the bad guys. Your dad was a bad guy. You were following orders. Now, you’re doing your job.” You reason, knowing that he’s not killing because he enjoys it, who would do that? You know Dave. He’s treated you with nothing but a gentle hand. It’s hard to imagine him as a cold blooded killer.

He turns onto his street, unable to believe that you are rationalizing what he does. HIs condo is at the end of the block and he swallows as he sees it up ahead. “It doesn’t bother you?” He asks quietly. “Worry you? Even my-” He breaks off. “Even mom was nervous around me until I left home. Worried that I would snap and hurt her.” That had probably been the biggest blow to him. His own mother skittish around him after he killed his father. It was one of the reasons why he had spent so many nights at your house with your brother. He hadn’t been judged by your family and you were completely unaware of what happened even though you were only a few years younger. It was enough to let it slip by you. 

You shake your head, "I know you, Dave. You try to conceal yourself but it doesn't work. I know you. I know you do bad things but deep down, you're a good man. You're the man I fell in love with. I- I don't completely understand the drive to kill but I know it's your job and you keep people safe by taking out bad people. It's not like you are killing innocents."

“It’s….my job.” Dave doesn’t mention that there are times where innocent people die, but that’s just because it’s the way of the world. He pulls into the parking space in front of his garage and cuts the engine. “And you still want to be with me?” He asks seriously. “Because I’m not exactly the type of man that wants to be divorced.”

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old. Dave. It’s always been you. I love you. I want to be yours. In every way.” You promise, reaching for his hand. “I know you don’t think you deserve happiness but you do. I want us to be happy together. Let’s not waste anymore time.” You urge him, knowing he will listen to you.

“Then we are getting married.” Dave decides, knowing you won’t object. “We will start looking for a house. One in the suburbs.” He hates living in the metro area, hates how his neighbors share a wall. His eyes find yours and he smirks. “So no one hears you scream in pleasure when I make you cum.”

It’s not the most romantic proposal but you know Dave makes up his mind and it’s done. You lean over the console, “you’re gonna take care of me as Mrs. York?” You tease, brushing your lips against his. “I’ll only be your wife if you make me cum over and over again.”

“Done.” Dave grabs the back of your neck and pulls you towards him for a searing kiss. Immediately taking over and sliding his tongue into your mouth. Giving into the needs that he had kept buried, kept hidden from everyone, even himself. Groaning into your mouth and feeling you melt against him. Kissing you for another long moment before he pulls back. “I love you.” He whispers softly, knowing that he needs to be more affectionate with you. You are going to be his wife, his future, his home. He’s been holding back for so long, but he doesn’t have to do that anymore. 

[popcornforone]

Sizzling

Day nineteen of the Seasons of Life Challenge

A Dave York Fic

MASTERLIST

It took me to day 19 & the prompt heat to get to my stabby murder daddy Dave York. I mean they could have all been Dave let’s be honest & as always even with the word limit the man is a menace.

Synopsis:- The day after another successful mission.

Word count:- 500 (I’m amazed I kept it below the limit)

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Oral, PIV sex, Anal, cum eating,basically I tried to get Dave to be nasty in as few words as possible. Also swearing.

Thanks @fanfictionoverload @lady-bess @berryispunk for the challenge, tomorrow I have something special planned so be sure to come back peoples.

Another mission complete, always a relief as a handler that your assassin isn’t dead, it was touch & go a few weeks ago but not today. You both did a good job.

You couldn’t get on a flight back home until tomorrow afternoon so after a quick debrief this morning via zoom you’ve been able to do what you want. So are in just your bikini bottoms on the balcony of your suite. You can sense even with your eyes closed behind your shades & EarPods in that he’s admiring. You softly smile.

“Enjoying the view”

“Always” he says. “& you know after an intense mission im in heat” Dave states. You then jolt as you feel his hands on you bottoms slowly peeling them off, your thighs receiving kisses.

“Fuck Dave” you moan, you’d love to fight but you know the drill with him. “Guessing there was no easy fuck in the bar”

“Why would I settle for a cheap burger when I’ve got steak sizzling up here” you lift up your sun glasses & see the devil in his eyes as they smoulder. “& I can smell your arousal sweetheart, you’re in heat too” two thick fingers slip into your cunt, his mouth sucks on your clit, your body trembles. You rhyth naked as he laps away, cumming in a matter of minutes. Your skin sticky from the heat of the sun, & the heat rising inside you.

“See sizzling” Dave says his face glistening with your discharge. It’s only as you stand up you realise he’s also nude. His erection dripping with precum.

“You ready for the heat Dave”

“Sweetheart, we might set off a fire alarm it’s gonna be so hot”he then scoops you into his arms & carries you back into your suite. Your body melting into the soft silk bedding. Your moans match his, you hold his head in place, the most intense eye contact either of you have had with each other for a relief fuck with each other.

“Fuck Dave Yes Yes” you cum hard & soon he’s moaning your name. It’s the only time his eyes close as he groans in ecstasy. He jolts his movements, slowing after the intensity of the last few minutes, his orgasm exquisite, your both quivering.

“Resign” he mumbles.

“What” you say shocked & grab on to him more.

“I don’t want you to just be my “fake mission wife”” he then leans his hand onto the bedside table & produces a small little red box. “I want it for real sweetheart”

“You’ll never find a better handler than me” you giggle.

“To show my commitment, I’ll resign to, I need you safe, not in danger” he gulps “I love you to much to put you through that pain”

“You’d do that for me baby”

“Yes sweetheart” he sighs & in unison you both say “I do”, before he slips the ring on your finger & his penis in your arse.

[baronessvonglitter]

"The Perfect Girl" : dark!Dave York x kidnapped!f!reader (very DDDNE)

im here for the DDDNE 👀

I've got a tidbit for you dear Beth 💫

Zoning out has become your new favorite thing. You stay zoned out, disassociating from everything until you hear something, perhaps it's the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, or the heavy open and shut of the secret door you're living behind. Until that moment you are nothing, immaterial, a simple mote of dust hanging in the air.

When He does come, it's as if you can smell him. That and the sound of his voice have you salivating in both your holes, a Pavlovian response perfected by the man himself. He comes to visit you, sometimes bringing a treat or a gift, but it's usually just his leftovers from dinner.

He pours them into a bowl for you, with a separate bowl for water, and you stay back until he tells you you can eat. On all fours you enjoy your daily meal. And sometimes, if He's feeling frisky, he'll fuck you from behind while you're eating.

[pedropascalsx]

A Game of Cat and Mouse. {Dave York x F! Reader.}

Summary: Dave catches up to you after weeks of no intimacy.

Warnings: Restraints, male oral, female oral, some fingering, p in v sex, come eating, some fluff and a general filth.

(if i've missed anything please tell me!)

Chapter: 8 of 12 of the appreciation series!

Word Count: 2.5k - short and sweet!

A/N: Unbeta'd - this is just porn. there’s no plot, they just fuck. i hope you enjoy.

The last few weeks had been tense to say the least, but things had started to calm and a new beginning had started to settle.

But with new changes come complications and the past few weeks had meant you barely had a moment to yourself, putting in extra hours for the girls and taking them out when delicate conversations needed to be had.

And having little to no left time for yourself, meant absolutely no time for anyone else and frustrations were beginning to show.

A few nights previous Dave had practically ripped the door of its frame to get to you, pawing frantically at your clothes and it looked like you were both finally about to get a little relief but a large sob from down the hall followed by a lot of wailing had ripped the moment from you both.

And ever since he’s looked at you in a way that can only be described as pure hunger.

**

The house was quiet. Eerily so. It had felt like weeks since you’d heard the sound of silence and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You weren’t alone, Dave’s keys on the countertop were an obvious sign, but he was nowhere to be seen and that sent another shiver down your spine.

At first searching for him was genuine curiosity, there was no sound coming from his office and the door was wide open so you could see he wasn't in there.

You took a few quiet steps down the hall and popped your head into the dining room and found it empty. You called his name a few times and was met with the same silence ringing in your ears.

It was only when walking back into the kitchen you saw it, sitting next to his keys and clearly put there for a reason; the black hair ribbon from that day. The day he had walked into his home office, gently pulled your hair behind your head and fucked your throat so hard that it made your thighs wet with slick.

You fiddled with it for a few moments in your hands, letting your fingertips smooth across the silk before the sound of footsteps entering the room stole your attention.

He said nothing as you looked up at him, standing quietly and rapping his hands gently against the wooden door frame.

Sensing what he was wanting you to do next, you gently brushed your hair back behind your head, keeping your eyes locked with his and tied your hair back neatly with the hair ribbon.

He took a single step forward and his name fell from your mouth and it felt like you were finally about to take weeks worth of frustrations out on each other… anticipation flooding the air, clothes ready to be ripped off and just as you were ready to launch yourself at him, the unwelcome chime of the doorbell rudely pulled your back to earth.

The groan that came from his throat made your knees weak, he muttered something filthy under his breath before marching towards the throat door and ripping it open, leaving you there gasping for breath and pulling at the sleeve of your cardigan.

And suddenly a plan fell into place, you unbuttoned the front of your cardigan and let it slide over your shoulders, falling to the floor. Before tiptoeing up the stairs, shedding your vest top and leaving him to find before sneaking down the hall into the linen closet.

You heard the door shut, a few footsteps and then a frustrated call of your name. But you remained silent, listening carefully for his footsteps to resume and suppressing a giggle as he climbed the stairs. Your pussy clenched as he growled your name, after bending down to pick up your discarded top. You watched him through the crack in the door, and quietly you started to push your pants down your legs, ready to leave them for him to find in a different location.

He stormed towards your bedroom door and as he pushed your door open and stepped inside you took the opportunity to run across the hall into the family bathroom. Dropping your pants and hiding quietly behind the door.

“Are you having fun, my love?” Dave calls, frustration evident in his voice. “Do you think this little game is going to be worth the punishment you’ll pay, when I get my hands on you?”

You bite down on your lip as you think about what’s to come, hoping you can slip out of the bathroom and into your bedroom as he approaches the linen closet you left wide open. “Where are you hiding, little girl?” He growls, “If you don’t want this, all you have to do is say.”

You know what he’s doing, he knows what he’s doing, he knows you’re positively gagging for it and there’s no way you’re going to say otherwise. But right now, you’re having just a little bit too much fun, messing with him.

You pull your phone out of the pocket of your pants and text him a single word. Cold.

Biting down a sign of relief as you hear his footsteps take him down the hall, waiting until you hear them descend on the stairs before pushing open the door and running towards the master bedroom.

Squealing as you hear him change his direction and quickly begin to gain on you. Growling your name as he picks up his pace, squeezing in through the door before you have time to shut it.

And now here you are. Stood directly in front of him. Dressed only in your panties, chest heaving up and down as a few nervous giggles slip through your lips.

“Do you want to escape?” He asks you slowly. Each word feels like it’s been dipped in honey, and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you, when you immediately start to shake your head.

“No.” You say quietly, still slightly shaky your head.

“No, what?” He says, before raising an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t want to escape… sir.”

“Didn’t seem like that to me,” he says with a sigh, before loosening the tie he put on barely an hour ago. “Seems like you might try to do it again… and I can’t be having that, my filthy little love.”

He looks you up and down a few times, before reaching out and lightly brushing your nipple with the tip of his finger, before slowly circling you, like a shark taunting its prey.

“You look good like this,” he praises, before ordering you to put your hands behind your back. Circling you again but this time with intent, stopping still when behind your back and pulling his tie the rest of the way off. He gently binds your hands together before pushing you down on your knees, grinning as you start to mumble his name. “Be glad you got to tie your hair back before I tied your hands.” He chuckles.

You kneel quietly, watching as he walks back in front of you and crouches down. “I was just going to give you everything you wanted,” he says with an exaggerated pout, “But now, my love, I guess you’ve got to earn it.”

His hand gently grips onto your jaw, tilting it upwards before it slides down and rests softly around your neck. He moves his face forward enough for you to press your lips to his before pulling back and squeezing his hand gently. “Earn. It.”

Without another word he shoots up to his feet, unbuckles his belt and rips it’s free from the loops of his pants. Dropping it without care on the floor next to you, before unzipping his pants and revealing his rock hard cock. You think he’s going to shove it in your mouth, and you immediately open up to take him but he just laughs. Languidly stroking himself and watching your desperate tongue dip in and out of your mouth as you silently plead for him to feed it to you.

“Beg.” He spits. “I said you have to earn it. So fucking beg for it.”

“Please,” you say, as he reaches out to hold your chin in his hand, smirking as he feels it tremble. “Dave, please.” You repeat, over and over in between a bunch of incoherent and desperate pleas fall from your lips.

After what feels like forever, he moves his hand to cup your face and feeds his cock into your mouth with a grunt. Growling your name as you wrap your lips around it with delight, bobbing up and down at a pace that’s comfortable for you and squealing as he pushes deeper. “I know how well you can take it,” he grits out at you, “Don't hold back on me, baby girl.”

You tug desperately at the restraints keeping your hands from holding onto him, and he chuckles down at you. “I’m not untying your hands until you prove you’re not going to run from me.”

His cock being still shoved in your mouth prevents you from speaking, so you respond with a roll of your eyes and he responds by pulling back and snapping his hips forward. Grunting again as he pushes deep, past your tonsils and right to the back of your throat. “Roll your eyes again,” he taunts, “I’ll cum down this pretty little throat and leave you tied up for the rest of the day.”

He finds a comfortable pace, rolling his hips back and forth and praising you as you hollow your cheeks around him. His hand is holding onto your ponytail as he works you up and down his length.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he pulls himself free of your mouth, groaning slightly at the loss of you around his cock. “Don’t run from me, baby.” He says softly as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Don’t do that.”

“Never,” you mumble quietly, before letting him capture your lips in a bruising kiss, one hand carefully placed on the small of your back and the other around your ponytail. Holding you tightly against him as he licks deep into your mouth.

Wordlessly he breaks the kiss, and pulls you both up to your feet, before carefully untying your hands and walking you back towards the bed. “I’ve missed you.” You say against his lips, before he presses you back down onto the bed.

He hums quietly, before peppering a fleeting kiss on your mouth, and slowly dragging his lips down, stopping at your breasts and taking a nipple into his mouth. His tongue gently circles the soft bud, before lightly nipping his teeth around the hardened bud. He drags his tongue across and pays the other the same attention, chuckling at your soft gasps.

He’s slow, his tongue continues dragging downwards and you’re entirely at his mercy, murmuring his name softly and tangling your fingers in his hair. He kisses just above the waistline of your panties, before pulling away. “Do you think you’ve earned my tongue?” He taunts, softly, finishing his sentence with a faux pout.

“Yes,” you say, far too quickly, pulling a chuckle from him.

“I don’t know,” he says with a sigh, “You ran and hid and made a mess with your clothes at the same time.”

“It’s not hiding if I left a trail for you to follow,” you whisper down at him, and a smirk spreads across his face.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just pulls your legs apart and buries his face in between your legs and inhales. Groaning at the scent of you and how you’re dripping with arousal. He mouths at you, over the lace of your panties and you’re immediately begging for more.

He could deny you but he doesn’t, instead he pushes your underwear to one side and flattens his tongue against you. Slowly dragging his tongue up and down a few times before focusing on your clit. Each flick of his tongue is heaven, his mouth is giving and generous, and every movement is designed to have you drowning in pleasure.

The second he sees your thighs begin to shake, he chuckles into your core, before pushing two thick fingers inside of you and curling them up in that blissful spot. He keeps the same glorious pace of his tongue as he starts to thrust his fingers, twisting his arm and ensuring that he never misses that spot. Your hands tug at his hair as your orgasm starts to power through you, making your chest heave up and down and your mouth spill the most gorgeous sounds he’s ever heard.

The squeal of his name that he pulls from your throat sounds like heaven, and he pulls it out of you over and over as he works you throughout your high.

He pulls his fingers out of you and gives your clit a few more lazy sucks before tasting you from his fingers, ensuring to lick them clean as you lay there sated. Still riding the high of your orgasm.

He stands over you, watching you catch your breath, his hand sliding up and down his length as he does so. “My filthy little love.” He murmurs before letting himself go and hooking his arms under your knees and pulling you down the bed.

“Gonna fuck you into this mattress,” he growls, “Make this perfect pussy come over my cock, fuck, feel it get even fucking wetter.”

His fingers reach down into your slit, gathering up some of the slick that’s still steadily leaking from your fluttering hole and he generously cuts himself with it, before pressing the head at your entrance.

“You want it?” He mocks, and slightly pulls his hips back and the desperate way you react to him.

“Please,” you plead, voice thick with need and he’s not about to deny you. With one harsh thrust, he slots himself in, absolutely choking at the way your walls immediately grip onto him and you clench around him.

“There’s my girl,” he praises, waiting a few seconds until he’s happy that you’re ready and building a pace that has you dizzy and delirious with pleasure. He wets his thumb and presses it against your clit, drawing slow circles that are almost painful with how fucking good it feels as he slams his hips back and forth. Grinning as your mouth lets out a symphony of pleasured moans, soft gasps of his name and curses.

His hips stutter as you start to cum, a stream of liquid covering him before you clamp down hard, your body moving up off the mattress as you become overwhelmed with pleasure. You feel him everywhere and it’s still not enough. He keeps rocking his hips the best he can, waiting for you to ease up and then when you do he immediately resumes his pace, chasing his high and triggering another orgasm in your blissed out and exhausted body as he starts to fill you with rope after rope of his cum.

He drops down on top of you, making sure to capture his weight onto his arms before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “I really missed you my filthy little love.” He growls as you erupt into a fit of giggles, loving the way he groans at your pussy glittering around him as you do so.

“I missed you too, my love.”