#poor dave. F

[nana2009]

currently thinking about how since kanika likes dolls(specifically the vintage creepier ones) uncle-grandpa dirk one day gifts her THE ACTUAL HAUNTED ANNABELLE after she mentioned something about how pretty she looked while watching a documentary together or something

and of course dave is distraught because dUDE YOU JUST GAVE MY 4 YEAR OLD A POSSESSED DEVIL DOLL WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING but he cannot for the love of god pry it away from kani's grasp

[strawbeerossi]

Dress

Pairing: Husband!Spencer x Wife!Reader

Description: When you’re getting ready for an event over at Rossi’s, you express how you feel you don’t look your best in the dress you had your heart set on. Spencer is gonna do his best to show you just how beautiful that you are.

Content/Warnings: Body image issues, full body kissing, oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, just some good love and fluffy sex.

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day One: Body Worship

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The dress looked so beautiful whenever you bought it. The black silhouette did good at hugging your frame, highlighting every dip and curve. Most people would’ve loved to wear a dress like this one, to steal all the attention of the night and feel nothing short of a beauty queen. It was elegant, a smooth velvet that showed poise. However, it didn’t really work out that way for you the more you looked at it without the presence of wine and the loving encouragement of your friends.

That’s why you found yourself standing in place, trying to smooth out what you deemed as imperfections that just wouldn’t go away. This was a nightmare.

“We are going to be late, my love.” Spencer called from his spot in the shared bedroom, looking in the standing mirror on the back of our door as he was fixing his tie. Formal events at Dave’s house were always a fun time. You’d actually managed to feel fancier than normal, the champagne and pleasant conversation adding onto that. You were also quite fond of the idea of socializing with some of the people who had known Dave or even the other members of the team at any step in their lives.

“I think I’m gonna have to pretend to be sick..” You sighed while making your way out of the bathroom, heels clicking against the wooden tile and catching Spencer’s attention. “Why would you pretend to be sick?” He asked, voice filled with concern as he was approaching you, his hands gently cupping your warm cheeks.

Now there are many answers that you could’ve come up with to deter from the overwhelming amount of insecurity festering inside of your mind and body from the dress that you so desperately needed to buy online. Marrying a profiler meant that he would be able to call you out on the lies.

You opted for honesty.

“I just..” Your eyes were trained on the mirror across the room. There was hatred for the sight looking back at you. In a way, it felt as if you were drowning in poor self esteem. Fuck this dress. Why did you have to pick one right off the rack without trying it on first? JJ told you that it was sleek, sexy. It felt the complete opposite. “I don’t like the way I look in this dress. I don’t have anything else to wear over to Dave’s house and I don’t know if I could show my face wearing this.”

There was no doubt that Emily, JJ, Tara and Penelope would be elegantly dressed with flattering attire that highlighted every positive about their bodies. While all having different body types, it was easy to see the beauty in each of them. They all had such well defined features, their bodies being sculpted from the finest stone. They were all four Persephone reincarnated.

Then there was you, the awkwardly shaped one who never felt like she fit in. Your hair wasn’t as nice as theirs, your teeth weren't as nice and perfect.. Sometimes you found yourself wondering why Spencer chose to marry you whenever he had such fine women on his team. The self deprecating thoughts were cut off by Spencer, a soft shushing sound leaving his lips. You’d been crying for a minute without realizing.

“I think,” He began while leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “That you look,” He continued on with his soft, sweet kisses as they moved to your jaw. “Absolutely,” His lips were soon on the flesh of your neck as he let his arms wrap around your waist. “Ravishing.” He finally finished, his hands running over your hips in an effort to soothe those wandering thoughts.

“You don’t believe me.” Spencer’s voice stayed steady, a frown forming on his face while you were blinking away a few tears.

“It’s okay, I will have to just show you just how beautiful you really are.” With his hands moving to the zipper of the dress, you could feel your cheeks heating up. “We are going to be late,” You spoke while letting your eyes fall shut as the wet kisses were slowly trailing down to your shoulders. “I think David would understand. Besides, I can promise you that it’ll be an all night affair.” He chuckled. Which, yeah.. That made sense. David Rossi could keep an event going all night if he truly wanted.

As the black dress pooled by your feet, you offered a shy smile as the kisses continued, your skin being filled with warmth from all of the love radiating off of Spencer’s lips from each kiss that was littered across the skin of your shoulders and collarbones. “Besides.. I’ve been punctual for the past fifteen years in every aspect. I think that I can be late just this once.” He chuckled, hands coming up to unclasp the black bra you’d picked out, letting it fall with the dress before he was lifting you in his arms, prompting you to let your arms to quickly wrap around his shoulders. “We shouldn’t take too long anyway.”

Your body hit the clean duvet when you were laid back on the bed, the cover still smelling of the sea breeze fabric softener that you’d become so obsessed with. Your husband’s lips continue to trail wet kisses across your skin, his hands running up your body as he was on his knees beside you. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” His words were soft, sweet. “Especially laid out like this for me.” You’d been nearly bare, panties separating your wet pussy from his loving gaze. His hands massaged the skin of your hips, lips littering more kisses around your chest area. “My perfect girl, I don’t know how a guy like me could be so lucky.” Love dripped onto your skin akin to the feeling of the bright sun shining against your skin on the hottest days. Your response came in the form of a soft breath, feeling his tongue flick over your right nipple.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, the male humming in delight as he could feel it hardening at the wet muscle massaging over it. He knew the sensitivity of your body, his hands kneading at the warm flesh of your breasts. You were reduced to soft moans, encouragement for more as your fingers tangled in the once neatly styled curls. “Fuck, Spence.” Your words were a melody to his ears, the male not always being so fond of partaking in swearing or really listening to it. However, whenever you did? He enjoyed it. That meant he was doing his job in the intimate positions that you both had found yourselves in.

Pulling off with a loud ‘pop’ filling the room, the honey colored irises were focused on your face, still contorted in pleasure as his hands were massaging your tits with his large hands. He repeated the same action with the opposite nipple, one hand dropping and his fingertips trailing down your skin, the goosebumps on your body standing at attention as his thumb was pressing against your clothed clit, hips wiggling in an effort for more.

Who was Spencer to deny his amazing wife the pleasure that she so desperately deserved?

Even if he didn’t want to, the male was detaching his mouth from your chest while his long fingers were hooking into the waistband of your panties. Your hips lifted out of instinct, body feeling hotter than ever as you were desperate to feel more of the touch you craved in the place that you needed it most.

After the panties were tossed somewhere behind him, the male let his hands carefully push your thighs apart, eyes focused on your slick cunt that looked more beautiful than he could put into words. His mouth was agape at the sight, those pretty honey eyes slowly disappearing in the black of his pupils.

“Fuck,” The swear was rare, yet hearing it fall from his voice in the dulcet tone never failed to surprise you.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before Dave starts calling,”Spencer spoke while glancing at the alarm clock, eyes falling on the mouthwatering sight nestled between your thighs. “So, think you can do it?”

The question was rhetorical. He knew by now how your body operated.

Before you could answer, his face was disappearing between your thighs, lips pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he sucked and nibbled at your skin. Leaving hickies between your legs was the best place, mainly because they were for his eyes only. It wasn't something unprofessional to where you couldn’t go to work without covering up. Less headache. The man was practical.

His tongue lapped over your clit as he was delving in, eyes fluttering shut. His favorite place had to be between your thighs. Stressful case? He’s licking and sucking your wet cunt from the safety of your hotel room. You want intimacy but he’s not in the mood for sex himself? He’s disappearing under the sheets.

He was intoxicated by your sweetness, drinking in every ounce of arousal that you were so happily giving him. His tongue ran alongside your velvety inner walls, your pussy spasming from the muscle that was darting in and out of you, having to alternate between your clit and your core.

Your hands were tangled in the now messy curls, your back arching off the mattress while the sounds of your moans and cries filled the room in addition to the suckling and groans coming from your husband, who was so focused on licking every inch of you.

You felt the familiar warmth deep in your stomach, a knot tightening inside of you as your pulsating walls were closing in on Spencer’s tongue. With your hands shoving his face deeper into your weeping pussy. “I’m gonna cum, Spence.” You panted out, eyes fluttering shut as your head tilted back against the pillow behind your head.You know that you couldn’t hold back any longer, your body giving every indication that it was ready to unleash a wave of ecstasy.

The man licking and sucking didn’t let up, his hands having to hold your hips down as your orgasm was building. The more you wiggled and thrashed, the more that he knew that it was coming.

“I-” You tried to get out, however that didn’t work out in your favor as a moan was chasing what was supposed to come out of your mouth. Your legs were shaking as you were finally hitting release, your nails digging into your husband’s scalp while your mouth was agape.

The warm muscle was licking and cleaning up your thighs before you were seeing your husband’s face again. His chin was wet and his hair was an absolute mess as he rubbed your thighs.

“Let's get you in that pretty dress and get to Rossi’s.” He breathed, letting his teeth playfully bite at your inner thigh before he was pushing himself up.

Which you didn’t argue, the post sex haze making it difficult to speak. Even after you were redressed and Spencer had his hair fixed once more, he was coming to wrap his arms around your waist as he noticed you in front of the mirror.

“Feeling better? Cause I promise that you are going to be the most gorgeous woman there, you’re gonna have all of Rossi’s friends flirting with you.” He mused, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as you let out an airy laugh.

“Let’s get going, hmm? I need my beauty queen to make me look good.” He offered his arm out to you as they linked together, his free hand on your arm as you both made your way downstairs.

[joelscruff]

forget my charms (dave york x f!reader) 18+

a/n finally watched equalizer 2 and he's been living in my mind rent free! i don't really know what this is tbh, it was kind of a challenge to myself to try and write a drabble because i'm notoriously bad at keeping fics short & sweet. so i'm not sure how i feel about the lack of real story here but we go anyway! enjoy & please be sure to read the warnings! summary: your new boss gives you a memorable first day. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: fingering, lap sitting, power imbalance, infidelity, unprotected p in v (doggy), creampie, finger sucking, dirty talk, praise kink, tie used as a gag word count: 1.5k

You only met him this morning. It had been brief, his office just one stop of many on your guided tour the first day of your new job. Your co-worker had tapped lightly on his door, opened it a crack and told him he should come meet the new hire. Your stomach had turned when you'd heard him sigh deeply on the other side - you were already feeling out of place, more than a little like a fish out of water, and the concept of disrupting the boss on the first day wasn't appealing in the slightest.

But he'd been gracious. He'd come to the door and opened it wider, stood beneath the arch with an appraising little smile on his lips as he looked at you. It had been memorable, the way he'd taken your hand in his large palm and squeezed, peering at you with something attentive in his eyes, almost... intrigued. Welcome, he'd told you, it's lovely to meet you.

And now, only hours later, his fingers are in your pussy.

Pumping slow and deep, rhythmic and filthy as you lounge in his lap with your legs wide and your head resting languidly against the heat of his neck. He's got your skirt pulled up, one big hand spread firm over your trembling belly while he fucks you with his middle and index. The flickering blue of his computer monitor is your only source of light, showering his office in a dim glow.

You whimper and his fingers still, lodged deep inside your heat. He hushes you softly, strokes your tummy with his thumb and leans back slightly in his chair.

"Shh, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice low and husky, "Don't want the night crew to know what we're doing in here, now do we?"

No, you certainly don't. Can't even imagine what the reaction would be were anyone from the office to know you're being fingered by the boss on your first day. You bite down on your lip and lean back into his lap, look down with hooded eyes as he slowly resumes the slow plunge of his fingers. They're so thick, coated in a clear gloss of your release that glows blue in the light. He places his thumb on your clit, applies pressure, and you let out another pathetic whimper.

"Ohh, poor thing," he admonishes gently, "You want something in your mouth to help you stay quiet?" his hand comes up to brush against your face, "Hm? You need something to suck on?"

Your brain feels empty but you nod anyway, eyelashes fluttering as he wastes no time in slipping the middle and index of his left hand past the wetness of your lips. You suck immediately, closing your eyes and feeling them roll behind your lids as he fucks two of your holes at once, just taking, using.

Is this why I'm here, you can't help but think to yourself, did I only get this job so he could play with me like some kind of doll?

You can't quite believe you're even in this situation. You'd stayed late in order to make a good impression, still had some things you needed to figure out at your desk anyway. Everyone else had slowly trickled out of the office, until you'd realized all that remained was you and Mr. York. He'd smiled at you through the open blinds of his office, leaning back in his chair with his legs wide and his arms stretched behind his head. He'd brought one down when your eyes had met, crooked his finger as if to say, Come here for a minute.

You'd gotten up from your desk and entered his office, anxiety building in the pit of your stomach. You'd hoped you weren't about to be reprimanded for something you thought would impress him.

But he didn't reprimand you. He didn't mention the fact that you were staying late, didn't ask about how the job was treating you, if there was anything you needed, no. Instead, he'd looked you up and down again with that assessing, calculative stare and murmured, "Can you come sit in my lap for a little while, sweetheart?"

You suppose you could've said no. Probably should have, actually. That would have been the most logical thing to do - slam the door and quit your job, maybe even sue for harassment. Anyone else probably would have. But you'd taken one look at his crotch, seen the noticeably thick shape that bulged against his thigh, and realized he'd been sitting there watching you for who knows how long. He'd gotten that hard just from looking, assessing.

Fuck it.

"There you go," he breathes softly now, peering at you with dark and imploring eyes as he fucks your mouth and pussy, "That's a good girl, honey, I know," his brow furrows when you whine around his fingers, "I know, baby. You're doing so good."

He rocks you in his lap like you belong there, and it's impossible not to feel the way his clothed cock throbs against your ass. You want to see it so badly, want to touch it, taste it - but he doesn't give you the opportunity. Instead, he circles his thumb against your clit until you're shaking in his arms, hands gripping anything you can reach - the chair, your knee, his wrist. Your orgasm rolls through you and his fingers muffle the sound of your whines, your gasps, until your bones feel like jelly and your heart has slowed. He stills his movements again and lazily pulls all four fingers out of you, watches you breathe deeply and fall back against him with goosebumps rising on your skin.

"Get up now, baby. Bend over the desk for me," he tells you in that low voice, "Show me your pussy."

You pull yourself out of his lap on extremely shaky legs but obey his orders, inching forward a little to position yourself against his desk. You can feel his eyes on you as you reach back and pull yourself apart for him, show him where his fingers have invaded and explored, opened you up and made you drool.

"Juicy little thing," you hear him murmur, and then his belt buckle is jangling and you know what comes next. Legs still trembling, you keep holding yourself open and push yourself further down onto the desk, skirt pulled high and panties still hanging off one of your ankles.

He's filling you up in no time at all, cock plunged deep to the hilt and so much bigger than you'd anticipated. His tip kisses a spot inside of you that you're not sure anyone's ever been able to reach, and against your own volition you moan, low and long, full of pleasure and desperation.

You hear him tsk somewhere above you, "You really can't stay quiet can you?" He says it softly but it's full of condescension, like it's starting to genuinely bother him. Before you can apologize he's reaching down for something, still bottomed out completely inside of you as his arms and hands seem to do something out of sight. A few seconds later his blue polka dotted tie appears in front of your face, and then he's carefully settling the soft material between your lips, pulling back and tying it meticulously behind your head. A makeshift gag.

"Gotta learn to be quiet when I fuck you, okay?" he breathes, raspy and dark as he slowly pulls his cock from your pussy, only to feed it back to you again just as slow, "You don't want us to get in trouble, do you?"

No, sir, you want to whisper, but you can't. All you can do is nod slightly and grip the desk when he starts to fuck you in earnest, thrusting deep and hard before pulling out and doing it all over again. Your thighs quiver and shake against the cool wood, and as you lay there and let him take, you spot something out of the corner of your eye.

A framed picture of a family - his family.

You avert your eyes, turning your head slightly to see where his left hand is gripping your shoulder as he fucks you - you spot the wedding ring immediately. Christ.

But you don't stop it. You don't push him away, you don't leave. Even though you probably should. Even though the logical part of your brain is screaming at you that what's happening really shouldn't be, especially now that you know he's a married man.

You just let him use you. You let him fuck and fill you until he's gripping your hair in his fist and his cock is spasming and pulsing inside of you. You let him release his entire load inside your pussy, bare and messy. And then you let him pull you into his chair, tug the tie from your mouth and situate you back in his lap, still impaled on his cock.

Neither of you speak for a solid minute. He catches his breath while you try not to look at the photograph, to forget its existence entirely.

"The last one quit the first day," you hear him mumble, voice edged with tiredness, "But you won't, will you?" He thrusts shallowly inside of you, holds you against his chest as his cum starts to leak out and dribble down the hefty shape of his balls. "You'll let me do this, huh?"

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

[janaispunk]

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen.

“H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper.

“N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No, no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek.

“Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

series masterlist

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[suzdin]

Two for One: Chapter Four

Neighbor!Dave York x F!Reader x Human!Max Phillips

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, stalking (don’t do it), voyeurism (so so much), invasions of privacy, mutual masturbation, sexting, oral (m receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Dave, dom!Max, softish!Max, public sex, work sex, some fluff, maybe?, SEA OTTERS!, murder, poison, asphyxiation, let me know if I forgot anything, watch me make up stuff about an aquarium I’ve never been to and also poison.

Word Count: 7,700+

Notes: Sorry this took forever because my brain is dumb. I just want to thank all of you for being so patient. I love you and hope you have a wonderful 2024. 💜 Enjoy and feel free to leave me feedback if you wish! 😊

(Not my gif)

—

You make Max exchange phone numbers as he’s leaving your apartment.

“No more showing up uninvited,” you reprimand him, the heel of your palm planted firmly between his shoulder and sternum as you push him into the corridor of your building, “I mean it.”

He cocks his head to one side, lopsided smirk twisting his lips, forehead wrinkling as he lifts his brows, pausing. He’s staring at your still very much flushed and sweaty face. “You sure about that, doll?”

Your skin heats even more. You hate to admit that his smarmy defiance arouses you in ways that it shouldn’t.

“Max. If we’re going to keep whatever this is ongoing, I’m going to need some compliance here. For my privacy.”

Max’s smirk only grows wider and he beams at you, his gaze sliding down your face to your lips, hands raised in surrender. “You mean so I don’t cross paths with him, is that it?” he asks, quirking one of his brows to the side, knowing you’re fully cognizant who he’s talking about. “Fine.”

“Tell me you’re not bullshitting,” you retort.

“Woman,“ Max begins, wagging a finger at you, “I assure you that I am in no way being deceitful.”

He hasn’t wiped that shit eating grin off his face the entire time he’s been standing in front of you, either.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Scout’s honor?” you press.

“Scout’s honor,” he replies, lifting his hand in a mocking salute.

You sigh and shove him back another step, his back almost flush with your neighbor’s door.

“Goodbye, Max,” you snip, turning to go back to the comfort of your apartment, when that gnawing southern upbringing decides to make a re-emergence once more, and you remember your manners.

With a sigh, you turn to give him one last glance, your visage softening in its regard. “Thank you, by the way. For the drink.” And you mean it, even if it’s likely all melted and weeping on the table by now.

You almost think you see his own features grow a shade softer, and before you can dwell on it, he’s suddenly shifting back into your space.

Your initial instinct is to flinch, to shove him away, because after Dave and him in a single day, your poor fucked out pussy can’t handle anymore punishment.

But he doesn’t grope or manhandle you. Max’s arms grapple you into a snug embrace, his hot breath fanning over your neck. It’s uncharacteristically soft for Max to show this level of affection and you would hug him back if he wasn’t clamping your arms to your sides.

“Thank you,” he whispers, keeping you ensnared for a few lingering moments before releasing you and taking a step back.

“Yeah… no problem,” you offer awkwardly, because what else do you say to that? “I’ll see you around. I work tomorrow, opening to two.”

Max nods, his usual crooked smirk making a reappearance. “See you then.”

“And hey?”

“Yeah?”

“Be nice to my coworkers. It’s the least you could do,” you remind him.

His smirk doesn’t fade, tongue swabbing the inside of his cheek. “I’ll do my best.”

You snort and shake your head, watching as he disappears down the stairwell.

——

After Max leaves, you spend the remainder of the afternoon and evening wallowing around your apartment, watching bad reality television and trying not to think about… well, anything, pouring yourself some vodka with whatever mixers you can scrounge up until your brain mellows to a welcome numbness.

You order take out for dinner because, fuck saving money at this point. Proceeding the earlier conversation with your mom, you aren’t even sure why you’re trying to get back to Texas anymore.

It’s far easier having several states between you, even if you do miss your grandmother and have a wicked hankering for some barbecue right about now.

You check Facebook periodically anyway, not at all surprised to see your mother asking for prayers and attention from all the faceless online entities because she did not receive the validation she sought from you.

You grumble and toss your phone down every time you read a new ‘woe is me’ comment from your mother and you wonder why you’re even torturing yourself like this.

Belly full of chow mein, you settle down into your bed for the remainder of the evening to distract yourself with some mind numbing television to go along with the buzz you’re feeling.

When your phone lights up, you sigh in indignation, expecting a text from your mother as you swipe open to the notifications.

Much to your delight, it isn’t your mother, and you let out the breath you realize you’ve been holding in.

Dave: Hey, you.

You smile. Relief washes over you as heat simultaneously slithers its way up your spine.

Dave decides to change to split screen, one side with the recorded footage and the other side with the current feed, and he watches as you smile at your phone, steadily stroking himself, his phone vibrating your response a few seconds later.

You: Hey, you. 😜

You: I was beginning to wonder if you’d made it to VA

Dave: Yeah. Long day.

Dave: You made it worth it, though.

You: Doubt that

That makes him chuckle. He knows you know that to not be true.

He continues to stare at you, your gaze glued to your phone as you await his reply. You’re sitting up in bed now, back against the wall, wearing a different but equally revealing top than the thin camisole you had on earlier, blanket pooling in your lap.

The veins in his dick pulse when he ponders if you’re wearing any pants under the covers, and his eyes flick back to the recording of Max eating you out, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips. The pleasure on your face is telling.

Dave: You do, huh?

Dave: Maybe I should show you, then.

You bite your lip at his response, quickly punching in your reply and hitting send.

You: Aren’t you supposed to be spending time with your kids?

Dave: they’re in bed. It’s late.

His head lifts from the monitor momentarily—only as long as necessary—taking his headphones off to listen for any sounds of wakefulness from the bedroom. When he finds there is none, he turns his attention back to you, freeing himself from his sweats, tugging them down to his knees.

He quickly snaps and sends a photo of his rigid cock, colored a deep shade of mauve at the head, hand fisted at the base, dark curls peeking out from underneath his palm.

You swallow, your walls tightening and mouth watering at the mere sight of it, breath puffing softly past your lips. And you’re almost surprised how turned on you still are, despite the events of the past two days.

Max is just a phone call away, you tell yourself, quickly squashing that thought right out of your brain just as quickly as it arrives. You’d hate to risk having him spend the night with you. Besides, you should probably give yourself a break.

You: Jesus, Dave.

Dave: All for you, baby

Dave: This is what you do to me. I was hard almost the entire way here.

Dave: What are you doing?

You snicker through your nose at the sudden shift in conversation, deciding to play along anyway. Going back to the picture every so often to admire it.

You: Watching TV

Dave: Anything good?

You: Just reruns of 1,000 Lb. Sisters. It’s a good show, you should watch it

Dave: I would watch it with you if I was there.

Dave: if I could keep my hands off of you

Dave: Touch yourself.

You laugh when the conversation takes yet another rapid turn, but you barely give it a second thought the moment you feel your clit throb with need, firing off a response to Dave before breaching the band of your panties with your fingers.

You: Yes sir

Dave: good girl

Dave drags his tongue along his plump lower lip when he sees your hand disappear beneath the covers, his eyes darkening with lust.

Dave: show me

You throw the blanket back and he’s pleased as punch to see you’re only wearing panties. He watches intently as you shuck them off and toss them to the floor.

You open the camera app on your phone and begin recording, doing your best to get the shot right but it’s difficult to see much from your perspective. You take the video anyway.

Breathing softly, you slide two fingers between your folds and sink them into your entrance as far as you can manage, which isn’t enough and will never be enough compared to Dave or Max, before dragging them back out again to display the shiny coating of arousal on your digits for the camera.

You save the video and send it to Dave immediately.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Can you get a different angle? I need to see it

He almost tells you to prop your phone up on the window sill by the bed, but he doesn’t want to risk you somehow finding out he’s watching you. It’s possible you would think nothing of it, since he has seen the inside of your apartment now, but he’d prefer not to take the chance.

You frown and stop touching yourself, looking around the room in consideration before scooting on your knees over to the window to prop the phone against the pane of glass.

You hit record and maneuver into position, spreading, lifting your eyes to make sure everything is in frame. Shockingly, it is, and this new angle is so visual and obscene that even your OB/GYN would be impressed.

You record a short video of your fingers circling your clit, letting out a soft, salacious moan.

You still feel very much used from Dave and Max in a single day, but you make sure to keep your own touches as light as possible.

You record about ten seconds of yourself and send it to Dave.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: Need to fuck that little pussy full of me

Dave: We’re getting you an IUD and I’m paying for it

Dave: Fuck

His eyes move back to the side with you and Max, at which point you’re cumming on Max’s face, and Dave’s balls tighten with longing. He remembers exactly how you taste when you hit your high, and his mouth waters in remembrance.

Any jealousy he feels is immediately snuffed out by how much he wants you. How much he needs you.

You: I can pay for it

You: [video]

He’s so distracted by watching Max making you cum, his hand pumping himself more rapidly, that he doesn’t realize you were recording again. Your fingers swirl your bud faster, your hips twitching and coming up from the mattress.

Dave: Jesus

Dave: It will be well worth the money to see my cum dripping out of that tight little hole

You: such things you say, Dave

He smirks.

Dave: use a toy

You: How do you know I have one?

Dave: dirty fucking sluts like you always have toys

Dave: do what I say

Arousal floods your core when Dave’s true colors bleed through, even over text. You can practically see his brow pulling into a hard, dark line; see the way his lips curve ever so slightly into a sadistic and hungry smirk.

You don’t dawdle, leaning crossways over your bed to retrieve your favorite toy from your bedside drawer — you have a few accumulated from your time with Jonathan, since he never got you off — a vibrator with a curve at the end for optimal g-spot stimulation.

You: yes sir

You: [video]

You: is this sufficient

Dave receives a video of you clicking on the toy and sliding it teasingly along your slick and swollen labia, pausing periodically at your clit, your moans quiet yet lewd. All for him.

Dave: fuck. Gonna have to fuck you with the toy in you like that

You: I look forward to it sir

Your words send a rush of heat through Dave as his vision subconsciously slips back over to the side with you and Max, who’s now railing into you from behind like a jack hammer, and he damn near cums on that image alone.

He wanted to kill Max for how he had treated you. But now, watching Max bring you pleasure, and how much you appear to be enjoying it, he can’t stop his thoughts from wandering. Would you let both men inside you at the same time? Would you like it?

Would Max take orders from him like a good boy?

That last thought admittedly gives Dave pause and he shakes it from his mind. He had done things in the military, sure, most of the men had, missing their wives and girlfriends. But that was a side of him he hadn’t acknowledged in years, and he shoves it down to the furthest recesses of his brain, returning his focus to you.

Dave: good girl. Now put in and make yourself cum for me

You slide the toy past your opening with little effort, and you’re so worked up it takes almost no time at all before you’re chanting his name. Dave watches, transfixed, pupils dilated and jaw slack, eyes drifting back and forth between the two images on the screen, a cry departing your lips as you reach peak.

You: [video]

You: Mmm wish it was you making me cum though

Almost like serendipity, you cum on the recorded footage at almost the exact same moment as he witnesses it in real time. He can’t hold himself back any longer, and he barely has time to pull his phone back out to record before he’s shooting like a geyser all over his hand and lower abdomen, thick and milky spend dribbling down the backs of his knuckles.

Dave: Fuck

Dave: [video]

Dave: wish this was all over your fucking face instead

You sigh and fall back, panting, opening the last text with a satisfied grin painting your lips as you watch Dave spill down his hand.

You: Rather it inside of me

You place the phone down and crawl off the bed to go clean yourself and your toy in the bathroom, smiling to yourself.

Several states away, Dave heads to the bathroom in his hotel suite to do the same.

But as the high starts to dissipate, your trepidation inexplicably returns, twisting like a knife in your gut. You like Dave. Probably a little too much. And you shouldn’t. Because the day will come when he hurts you, just like Jonathan did.

You do your best to swallow down your doubt and finish cleaning yourself up, traipsing back into the main room to retrieve your panties and slip them back on.

A new text message lights up your phone.

Dave: Soon.

Dave: Can I call you?

Dave sees you sigh and chew at your lip, one of your hands coming up to the back of your neck. You seem unsure.

Your anxiety triggers his own, making him worry if he’s moving too quickly for you.

You: Sure

Now clad only in his sweats, Dave takes in a prolonged breath, hitting the call button. It rings twice before you answer.

“Hi,” you answer quietly.

“Hi,” Dave returns and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Thank you for that. I needed it after today…”

He switches off the recorded footage and goes back to watching just you. You.

You’ve already moved back under the covers, snuggling up with your back facing the window, one arm drawn up under your chin.

“You’re welcome,” you reply after a beat. “I needed it too.”

Oddly enough, you did, despite how many times you’ve already cum today, which was a welcome end to a stressful day.

That makes Dave grin, and he feels a pang of want as he wishes he were there to hold you in his arms, to feel your back pressed up against his chest.

“I miss you,” he confesses with a soft, nervous chuckle. His change in demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by you — a man of dual natures, an enigma. “Wish you were here.”

He chastises himself silently for saying too much, but it’s true.

You swallow down the coiling anxiety you feel.

“Yeah. That would be great,” you proffer gently. You change the subject as seamlessly as you can. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

He notices, but doesn’t point it out. “Taking the girls to the aquarium.”

You actually do soften at that. You always loved visiting the aquarium as a kid.

“Oh, how fun! I love aquariums. I know there’s one here… I’ve never been.”

“I’ll take you sometime,” Dave suggests. “We’ll make it a date.”

Your skin heats and you take your welling emotions and stamp them down as deep as you can. “Yeah.”

“What is your favorite marine animal?” Dave randomly asks.

“What, why?”

“Curious.”

You think it over for a moment. “Sharks,” you reply, “I like sharks.”

You hear him chuckle. “Figured you for more of a sea otter type.”

“Sea otters? Do explain, Dave.”

Although you can’t see it, he shrugs. He’s still watching you, fixated on the way your fingers fidget with the covers.

“Women usually like the cute sea animals. And sea otters are cute,” he says.

“Because I’m a woman, I’m not allowed to like things that aren’t, by your definition, ‘cute’? That’s sort of sexist, don’t you think?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re right. My bad.”

“Your bad? Well, what is your favorite sea animal, then?” you press.

“… Sea otters,” Dave answers without any additional thought, and you can’t control the burst of laughter that erupts from you. It makes his heart vibrate with affection hearing the joy in your voice and watching the way your nose crinkles when you smile.

“Oh, fuck off!” you tease, and he can’t help but laugh along with you.

“You need to go to bed,” you tell him as soon as the laughter dies down.

“What if I’d rather stay up all night talking to you?” he counters.

“Then I imagine tomorrow will really suck,” you quip back.

“It will be worth it.”

“Dave,” you begin in a more earnest tone, “I have work in the morning. Early. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Talk…masturbate mutually. Either way.

Your buzz is starting to wear off. Dave sees you rub at your eyes as you reach for your cigarette pack with the other, lighting it up and taking a long drag.

He knows you’re guarded and he supposes he understands why. He hopes you’ll let your walls down sooner than later.

“Okay,” he sighs in resignation. “But I’ll be thinking about you all day tomorrow.”

You tap the growing head of ash against the edge of the empty plant tray you’ve been using as a makeshift ash tray.

“Me too. Goodnight. Have fun tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah. I’ll try,” Dave replies honestly, and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.

He continues to watch you. And not just until you’ve finished your cigarette or gotten out of bed to — presumably — have one final pee.

He watches you plug up your phone and set your alarm. He even watches you as you curl into a fetal position, clutching one of your extra pillows against your torso, and he wishes it was him instead.

Soon, he reminds himself.

He doesn’t stop watching until he’s sure you’re completely asleep. And even then he lingers, only stopping when one of the girls — his youngest, Alice — rouses from sleep in absolute hysterics, loud enough to wake the dead. Something she had started doing around the start of the divorce process.

He sighs, slipping back into dad mode, swiping a hand over his sleep weary face as he shuts his laptop down and heads to the bedroom.

——

Like clockwork, Max is at The Beanery around 7:30 AM for his morning caffeine fix.

You’re grateful that it’s slow and that Audrey and Vincent are in the back room folding boxes and chattering away about god only knows what. Almost like you’d planned it that way. Like you gave them each monotonous side work on purpose.

You knew Audrey was working today and you wanted to stave off the inevitability of admission that you don’t really have the power to ban Max as long as you could. Or resist him, for that matter.

You’re also grateful that Audrey was able to hide your hickies and bruises using the expensive foundation she brought to work just for you, at your insistence, with the incentive that she could leave two hours early with pay today. A decision that would probably bite you in the ass later.

You didn’t tell her who or what they were from and she didn’t ask.

You receive a text from Dave mere moments before the chimes hanging over the door signal Max’s arrival, causing your blood to heat and your skin to pebble.

It’s an image of Dave in a steamy bathroom, fully nude, hand curled around the base of his stiffened cock, with the caption: Wish you were here

You respond with a very underwhelming selfie in your work cap and apron, to which he replies almost immediately: You’re fucking adorable

You can’t help the heat that crawls up your cheeks.

You slip your phone back into your apron and start cleaning the espresso machine when Max traipses in, strolling up to the counter like he owns the place.

Or like he owns you, more like it.

“Morning,” you greet, and the remaining traces of your flustered state swell once again the moment you see Max in his primped and tailored three piece, donning a flashy paisley red tie. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not adorned in a suit, aside from when he’s naked.

“Your usual?” you query, starting on his Americano before he even has a chance to respond.

“Morning,” Max parrots, smirking as his eyes bore into you. “And add whatever you want for yourself, sweetheart.”

He’s certainly starting off early today, isn’t he?

“That isn’t necessary,” you say.

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he tuts and slams his card down in front of you. When you go to retrieve it, he reaches out to grip your wrist gently, and your eyes snap up to meet his.

He can see the affect he’s already having on you just by proximity alone, his cock already growing rigid in his pants.

“Thanks,” you squeak out and ring up Max’s drink and yours with your free hand, running the card and handing it back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs in a rich timbre. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”

And he really couldn’t. He doesn’t oft have a habit of bringing women to his place, opting for theirs or someplace else instead, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you in his bed, waking up next to him that morning so he could make you sing his praises first thing.

“Let me get your drink…” you tell him, attempting to take a step away, but his grip on your wrist holds true, tightening infinitesimally, thumb circling your pulse point.

Max leans forward, a single elbow rested on the countertop. “Or,” he suggests, his voice low and barely an octave above a whisper, “you can meet me in the bathroom in two minutes.”

His eyes flash and he releases you, shooting you a stilted grin before heading to the small bathroom in the corner.

At first, all you can do is gape in disbelief, your jaw slack. Did Max Phillips really just come into your place of business and ask you to meet him in the bathroom?

You turn to listen to the sounds coming from the back room; Audrey and Vincent seem to be prattling on about something, oblivious.

You sigh and resign yourself to curiosity, to self torture, checking to see that the coast is clear.

“Hey, Vince, listen for the front, please. I… I’ll be right back,” you call out and take in another prolonged breath.

“10-4, dinosaur!” Vince chimes back and you roll your eyes, rounding the corner of the counter and heading over to the bathroom.

As you approach, the door swings open and Max pulls you inside before you can even reach for the handle.

He barely gives you time to react before he’s locking the door and crowding into you, pushing you back against the wall and pinning you as his hips grind your thigh hard. He starts to grab at you, everywhere, pawing at your clothes, your body. His mouth finds your neck and when his teeth start to bear down, you protest weakly.

He doesn’t listen; or maybe he’s just so overwhelmed with his desire to be inside of you that he’s lost any semblance of composure.

It doesn’t take you long to realize you don’t want to do this here. Not at work and not when your body needs a break, still so sore and overwrought from the last couple of days, and you attempt to push him away. He only pushes right back, unwilling to hear your pleas, because he thinks it’s what you would want.

“Max,” you groan and you feel your resolve slipping although you shouldn’t, “not here.”

“Come on baby,” Max growls, gently nipping at your earlobe, “let me inside of you.”

He pins your arms above your head at the wrists with one of his hands while the other begins to undo your belt, moving swiftly, his breathing desperate and heady.

He hasn’t been able to get you out of his mind for two whole days and pining over a woman isn’t something Max Phillips does.

Your resolve is rapidly waning and just about gone, arousal welling up within you. But with your last remaining shred of dignity, you’re able to shove him away and grit out, “Max, lavender,” your safe word.

Part of you expects to be ignored regardless, as Max has a habit of doing whatever the fuck he wants, and what you suspect to be very few morals. To your surprise, however, he does stop.

He releases you and takes a tentative step back, lips parted, hurt and uncertainty twisting his features. With nothing to say, at least for a few brief seconds.

His eyes meet yours and he lifts his hands in surrender, a frown creasing his brows. “Fine. That’s fine. I just figured since you came in here…”

“Max, shut up,” you say as you step towards him and you’re the one undoing his belt this time, positioning him with his back to the sink. “I just didn’t wanna— I mean, I want a break, but let me just… do this instead,” you further explain as you successfully get everything undone, sinking to your knees in front of him.

Understanding settles over Max and he nods, eyes growing a shade darker as he watches you finagle his slacks and boxers down, hardening cock springing free after a moment.

Of course none of the tile on the floor is even, so you have to adjust slightly to prevent the edges from digging into your knees and make yourself more comfortable, your hands sliding down Max’s thighs as you look up at him through your lashes.

He gently places a palm atop your head, fingers curling into your hair. “That’s it, doll. Be my good girl, now.”

He has to stifle the loud moan that reverberates from his lungs as you spit directly onto his shaft and grip him in your fist to begin slowly jacking him off, swiping the flat of your tongue up his length, his entire body vibrating.

You pause at the head, circling it, lapping at the pearl of precum that collects at the slit. He grasps your hair with a firmer hold, tugging at the roots.

“Don’t be a… fucking tease… or I’ll fuck you anyway,” he warns and in spite of yourself, you moan, and almost break.

You grin to yourself and take him deeper into your mouth, still holding him steady with one hand at the base as you adjust to his size, slowly pistoning your head forward and back.

“That’s it. Ohhh yes, good girl, sweetheart, good girl,” Max pants softly.

You slide your tongue along the underside of his dick, pausing at the fold of skin at the head as you rock forward, causing his hips to shudder and you eventually bottom out.

He grunts and grips the back of your neck, holding you flush against his groin, the dark and manicured thatch of hair tickling at your nose.

You can smell and taste the soap he uses; woodsy and light, nothing over the top nor underwhelming, but he’s as clean and well groomed as you would expect a pretentious man like Max to be.

He releases you when your eyes start to water and you murmur a noise of protest, allowing you to take a short break for air.

“Come now, darling, you can do better than that,” he notes with a small pout.

You nod in agreement and wet your lips, placing your hands on his hips as you take him back into your mouth and his head rolls back with a sigh, hands going to either side of your face.

You bottom out again and manage to hold better this time, hollowing out your cheek bones and breathing through your nostrils, relaxing your jaw and throat as you do so.

“Good girl… good… fucking girl,” he praises, nary louder than a whisper, running his fingertips along your scalp.

You tremble at the attention, moaning as you taste more precum dribbling onto your tongue, bobbing your head faster—as fast as you can—to get the job done as expeditiously as possible.

He groans and grasps your cheeks tighter, stilling your movements, holding you exactly where he wants you, and without any prior warning, starts rutting into your mouth.

“That’s right, that’s right… you can take it, can’t you? You can take it,” he growls, and there’s little else you can do but let him use your body as he wishes.

You can get the job done quickly but Max can get it done faster, knowing you’re on a time crunch.

You slacken your muscles as much as you can, as much as your body will allow, breathing through your nose and trying not to gag, especially considering you can feel and hear him nearing his release.

He starts to sputter what mostly sounds like nonsense words to you, gripping your cheeks and neck tightly in his large hands, rutting into your mouth with wreckless abandon and all you can do is sit there with the uneven tile digging into your tender knees and take it, letting go of his thighs to find purchase on the vanity behind him.

Finally, his hips begin to catch and then eventually seize, and with a low, guttural growl he spills hot and thick into your mouth, and you accept everything he has to offer you, swallowing it all with ease.

“Good girl… good girl…” he puffs, chanting your name softly on his tongue.

You milk him of every last feasible drop and a line of spittle connects you as you pull away, bringing your hand up to swipe at your mouth and breaking the string in the process.

He’s still panting as he helps you to your feet; you move to step to the sink so you can clean your face and rinse out your mouth. Without warning, Max grabs you once more, different than only a moment ago, ensnaring you in another tight hug and pushing you against the wall.

“Max… hey—“

He hasn’t even pulled his pants up yet. He squeezes you, lips ghosting over your skin as he presses his nose to the soft space between your neck and skull, inhaling your scent. And just… holds you like that, in an embrace, not at all dissimilar to yesterday.

“Thank you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and you’re once again struck with his sporadic shift in demeanor.

“Uhh… you’re welcome,” you reply and he breaks the hug, a single hand coming up to cradle your jaw, thumb dragging your bottom lip as he stares at it, contemplative and fixated.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” Max asks.

“Um… no… I need to clean up and get back out there,” you explain, causing his hand to drop from your face.

“Yeah. Yeah, right,” he says, almost appearing crestfallen — almost — as he tucks himself and his shirt back into his work slacks, buckling his belt and giving himself a cursory once over in the mirror.

You turn away and ignore him as you smooth down your clothes, splash some water over your face and rinse out your mouth and when you’ve determined you don’t look super fucked out, you confirm with Max that you’re each composed enough, giving him one last glance as you step out.

You feel fingertips against the small of your back, almost like he wants one last point of contact with you before you have to go back to the real world.

And what you both step into is a sea of chaos, the lobby now bustling with people needing their various morning addictions, and you cast Audrey and Vincent an apologetic glance as you rush over to assist them.

God, you really need a cigarette and a stiff drink.

They pass each other a look when they see you and Max coming out of the bathroom together and you inwardly sigh because you had hoped you could keep all of this on the down low. Well, that plan was pretty much out the window now. And there was no saving it.

Max stands to one side and waits patiently as you rush through making his drink, passing it to him when you’re done and your skin burning as you feel his gaze dwelling on you one last time before he dips out for the day.

The rush stays steady for about an hour and you’re actually kind of thankful for it, as it helps to keep your focus off of everything that’s happened recently.

——

You’re walking home when your phone buzzes with a new text.

You take in a breath and fish your phone from your purse, hoping it isn’t your mother. Wishing it isn’t her. She had already texted you earlier that day to let you know Garrett was out of jail, no thanks to you, and you made a point of ignoring it.

You expect another dramatic text from your mother as you’re opening your phone, but you’re relieved to see it’s from Dave this time, thank god.

You open the text to see an image of Dave crouched down in front of the jaws of a rather large shark, Alice perched on his knee and Mollie standing to one side, all three of them smiling for the camera. You try not to let the sweetness and normalcy of it affect you, and you can hardly believe that this is the same man who had practically broke you and stitched you back together multiple times.

You: looks fun

A few minutes later you receive more texts, popping up as you get close to your apartment’s wifi. The first is a video of the girls in front of a shark tank, babbling at a nurse shark, and then a second video of a reef shark swimming overhead in a tunnel, with the caption: sharks for you

You: Cool. I love them! See any sea otters?

Dave: no 🙁 But we saw penguins! 😍

You cover your mouth with your hand as you snicker at his reply, typing in a quick response.

You: Penguins? How feminine.

Dave: Okay smartass

You: Just dishing out some of what you were serving last night, Dave

Dave: Watch it, sweetheart, or you’ll really see what I can dish out when I get home

You: Promise? 😜

As you enter your apartment building and Dave texts back with I would love nothing more, you try to keep reminding yourself you aren’t falling for him.

——

With the girls dropped off safely with Carol, at the house which is still in his name, that he still pays for, Dave shoots you a quick text before pulling away.

Dave: I’ll be back in town in a day or two. I have a work thing

He fishes out a burner phone and punches in the address for your ex, Jonathan, who lives on Long Island. Which is good — perfect, really — as it’s en route back to Boston. A quick rendezvous there to take him out and then straight home. Or what he could consider his home, nowadays.

You make it feel like home to him.

The hit shouldn’t take long. It was an ideal situation, if he was being honest. The woman Jonathan had left you for had pulled the same trick on him as he had on you, leaving him high and dry after he had up and moved states, and now he lived alone in a small garage apartment at the back of a property that was flanked on all sides by woods.

Perfect.

He would be arriving long after nightfall, and he would bide his time in the woods until it was late enough to slip in and out undetected.

Dave did not care that Jonathan really wasn’t a bad person, aside from being the asshole who broke your heart. He couldn’t give two shits, really. He only wanted to take retribution for Jonathan’s slights against you, on your behalf, because you were too kind and gentle to do it yourself.

As he pulls onto the highway to begin his journey north, he can’t get your beautiful face out of his mind.

——

It turns out Jonathan is a night owl.

Dave has been in the trees at the perimeter of the property for hours. A single window at the back of the apartment shines a pale yellow, denoting lingering wakefulness from his mark. It’s the only available illumination aside from a lone street lamp near the front of the property.

And aside from his phone. He’s been watching you off and on all night, to pass the time. You’re alone, and have been for days now. You haven’t had Max — or anyone else for that matter — in your bed since the last encounter, which means you stopped seeing Max entirely or you had simply taken to fucking elsewhere. Max’s apartment?

He isn’t sure which, yet.

Currently, Jonathan is getting stoned and painting. Dave is far from being an art expert, but even from his vantage he can see the strokes on the canvas are broad and messy; calling it abstract would be a stretch. Infantile, maybe. He couldn’t have been the artist of the painting you have hanging in your apartment—the style and technique just wasn’t right.

He wonders, not for the first time, if you were a gifted artist as well as being a gifted writer.

Jonathan orders a pizza at 9:09 PM and it’s delivered at exactly 10:00 PM. He spends an hour eating, his motor skills slowed due to being so fried, attempting to masturbate after that — much to Dave’s abject disgust — gives up, and goes back to painting.

Dave can feel his patience growing thinner by the second. You’ve already retired to bed so he no longer has anything to occupy his mind as he waits. He would prefer to strike while Jonathan is sleeping, but it’s either now or never; anything close to daybreak would be too risky.

Given up on being discreet, he slinks like a cat out of the woods at around 12:30 AM, head on a constant swivel, gun holstered at his hip in case he needs it. He’s hoping he doesn’t.

He’s opted for the more difficult to trace route as the actual means of execution — a syringe with 100mg of potassium chloride, the same drug used in prisons — tucked away neatly in the pocket of his black hoodie.

The nearer Dave draws to the apartment, the louder the indie rock music Jonathan is blaring becomes, a band Dave doesn’t recognize. That’s a good thing, though, it will work in his favor when he picks the lock at the front of the building, arguably the riskiest part of this entire mission, due to its proximity to the street.

He reaches the second story landing and pulls his lock picking kit from said hoodie, adjusting the black beanie away from his eyes as he finds the right tools. He manipulates them into the lock, ear pressed to the thin door so he can better hear what he’s doing.

The music continues, and so far as Dave can tell, he hasn’t been detected.

He pops the lock within minutes and the door slowly shimmies open, his hand going to his hip on instinct as he pushes the door the rest of the way with the toe of his boot.

He’s met with a short entryway that veers off to a dimly lit living room. So far, Jonathan hasn’t noticed him. He’s on another planet entirely—exactly where Dave wants him. Thank god for brain altering substances.

Dave stalks forward and soon arrives at the opening of the main living space which is littered with various articles of trash and other clutter, skillfully dodging as much as he can so as to not alert his presence, or give detectives anything to go on.

What he finds is Jonathan hunched in front of a canvas, paintbrush perched between nimble fingers, painting god knows what, because Dave sure can’t tell, his back facing him. The sheer abundance of luck at his mark being in such a vulnerable and unawares position is so goddamn sexy Dave can hardly keep his dick in check at the presentation.

But even with Jonathan being as preoccupied as he is, it would be imprudent to dawdle, so he doesn’t.

He quickly closes the space between the two of them, one arm coiling like a large python around Jonathan’s throat and the other disabling his limbs.

Jonathan looses a low bellow, most of which is drowned out by the music and the reduced flow of oxygen to his lungs, nearly knocking over the easel the canvas sits on in his rush of panic, but thankfully does not. In Dave’s experience working cases for the CIA, signs of struggle are often harder to hide than one would think.

He attempts to fight back, body trying to twist away, but Dave is larger, stronger and more experienced in disarming than Jonathan is in fighting…well, anything…so it isn’t as difficult as Dave had feared it would be.

It isn’t exactly a cake walk either, and Dave knows he needs to get him to the ground as soon as possible to fully disable him, arm tightening around Jonathan’s throat as he wrestles the smaller man to the floor. He puts Jonathan in a sleeper hold, adding a second arm for leverage and bringing a leg up to ensnare his lower half.

“Just let it happen. Let it happen and it will be easier,” Dave grits against the shell of his ear. “Don’t fight me.”

He doesn’t listen, of course, hellbent on breaking the grapple, and failing. That pesky self preservation always did aggravate Dave as much as it excited him.

Jonathan’s vision starts to blot away, music fading to a low and persistent hum, his body finally giving in to the asphyxiation now that the adrenaline was a fleeting thing.

This is exactly what Dave needed to happen, and as he feels Jonathan’s body growing slack in his clutches, he removes the syringe from his pocket, biting the lid off and grasping it between his teeth as he readies the needle.

It isn’t hard to find a vein due to Jonathan’s heightened sense of agitation and panic, inserting the needle into the soft flesh of his neck and sinking the plunger before he can struggle away, flooding his bloodstream with the full dose of potassium chloride.

Within moments, attempts to free himself devolve to little more than faint body tremors, and Dave doesn’t release him until his body has fallen completely motionless and limp in his arms.

He checks Jonathan’s pulse a moment later and when he’s satisfied he’s gone, he drags the corpse to the recliner on the opposite end of the room, manipulating him into a position that makes it appear as if Jonathan succumbed to cardiac arrest.

Once done, he finds Jonathan’s cellphone and begins to thumb through the recent calls and text messages.

He finds you in there, as well as a string of messages to you begging your forgiveness and for your return, which have gone wholly unanswered by you. Dave smiles to himself. You must have blocked him after the breakup. Good.

He knows there’s a very real chance cops will question you regardless. But Dave decides to delete the messages and any other snippet of information he can find about you in Jonathan’s phone anyway, just to be safe.

As he repockets the empty syringe, he gives the room a final comb to ensure that not even a hair is out of place. When he determines everything is satisfactory, and that he hasn’t left behind any evidence or traces of DNA, he turns to make a hasty retreat.

He leaves the apartment exactly as he found it, making sure to lock the door behind him, leaving nothing out of place, no loose ends unraveled.

He jogs down the stairs and makes the mile long trek through the woods to return to where his car is parked, working up a sweat even with the cooler air but not at all concerned about it, pulling the beanie off and tossing it to the passenger floorboard when he finally makes it to the car.

Palming himself through his dark jeans, he pulls onto the road, with you being the only thing on his mind as he begins the arduous six hour journey home to see you. You.

And he can barely fucking wait.

——

Taglist: @ohheypedrito @kateispunk @awilderi @survivingandenduring @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @oberynslady @kellybelly1978 @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @annieispunk @xxjigglynatxx @daddy-dins-girl @onmysluttyknees @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @yorksgirl @shotgun-shelby

Please let me know if I forgot you, it wasn’t intentional 🥺

💜💜💜

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 37

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to my bi-weekly fic rec list! This is everything I read in the last two weeks. It's... a lot. I did March Fic Madness and also just was generally in a reading mood so there's like 40 fics here. They're in alphabetical order by boy.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Constellations in his eyes

Dave York one shot by @janaispunk

Your fiancé stands you up on your birthday. Dave doesn’t.

infidelity, shitty boyfriend, angst, fluff, kissing, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n

What Love Means

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

Dave has a panic attack and you help him through it

So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

The Mess of Us

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

vague smut, lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics.

The One

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

Bit of emotional torment, drink and drugs references, Dieter POV, happy ending? Always Fleabag coded.

Purple Haze

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

that boy put a spell on you

1960’s London Dieter Bravo AU, heavy on the British slang, explicit alcohol and drug references, reader is a model but no physical descriptions, outfit descriptions, swearing, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint, smut; protected PIV, light bondage, reader is in control and Dieter is a subby puddle, pet names (angel, doll, darling), light dirty talk, playful slaps. Just a note we’re always very Fleabag coded here.

House Arrest

Dieter one shot by @rulexofxnines

Dieter stays over at your place out of desperation. Things get out of hand so you take control of the situation.

forced proximity, only one bed, a goat

The Howler Monkey

Dieter one shot by @covetyou

You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness.

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

Brick House

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter buys a house for you and the baby

mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot

Stay sexy and don't get murdered

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Trapped behind a secret wall to hide from a murderer, the close proximity forces you and Dieter to confront feelings you rather bury underneath your case to prove your favorite neighbor didn’t commit suicide.

brief moments of tv-appropiate terror, arguing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death/murder, but more importantly: smut (like half of this is smut), oral (f!receiving), dieter’s bare ass nearly catching on fire, too many feelings for something that started as a crack fic idea

Fare Well

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter has been working so hard. He still has an issue that might be because of his mind. What can he do about it? Do anything else.

unhealthy coping, sexual dysfunction, sex work, teasing, pet names, sexual activity (actual and implied I think? I should know. 🙃)

A poor plan to confess

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Conversation Pit

Dieter one shot @thosewickedlovelies

You’re viewing a mansion with Dieter, and it has a conversation pit. Does he have the discipline to keep his hands to himself?

friends with benefits, SMUT: Dieter’s favorite dom appears 👀 could it be someone we know?; mmf threesome, piv sex, semipublic sex but don’t worry, edging (m receiving), references to sex work

Lush

Din one shot by @the-scandalorian

Mando makes regular visits to the healing baths.

touch-starved Din; reader is blindfolded; smut

Immortal By Design

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Din Djarin picks up a mysterious job at the Bounty Hunter’s Guild from a high paying client that specifically requested him. Once he tracks down the bounty, he discovers two things— you tracking the bounty for different reasons entirely and a lot more than he bargained for.

reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu in this universe, possession, cursed object, dark!Din, monsterfucking (I think), Din has heightened capabilities, dub con/noncon, restraints, reader gets captured, oral sex (M and F receiving), rough oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mir’sheb = smart ass, character death, no use of y/n

Enchanted to Meet You

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You’re a senator for the New Republic and tonight you’re forced to attend the New Republic Gala. Senator Xiono won’t leave you alone but that in turn leads you to meet Mando, a security guard at the event. And that leaves you wonderstruck.

Reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, reader has consumed alcohol, creepy guy at the gala, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), no use of y/n

I don't mind bleeding

Din one shot by @quicksilvermad

You and the Mandalorian have a mutually beneficial relationship—he pays your rent and you feed him when he needs fresh blood.

vampire!Din, blood, PIV sex, biting, sex work, second person POV, AFAB Reader, one instance of "good girl", aftercare

Bound

Din one shot by @frannyzooey

It’s your thighs he’s bound this time — not your hands for a change.

smut, bondage, AU

Hello to the Green

Ezra one shot by @the-blind-assassin-12

Down a ship, a crew, and a working air filter, and suffering from a rapidly worsening infection, Ezra makes one last ditch effort to get home. And he hopes it’s enough.

language, angst, injury and illness, death

Paint With Me

Frankie one shot by @bitchesuntitled

You have a crush on the dad of your daughter’s best friend.

Sexual innuendos and cursing

Right on Cue

Frankie one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Door Number Three

Javi G drabble by @morallyinept

Javi shows you what he keeps behind that mirrored door

Character talk alludes to sexy things.

Dámelo

Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

You want more. Javi wants to give it to you. You just have to give him something first.

mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, aftercare. reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed.

Dress Up Joel

Joel series @covetyou

when a mysterious stranger breaks into your house, and keeps breaking into your house, he gives you the fright, and the ride, of your life. Welcome to your seasonal encounters with one Mr. Joel Miller.

sex toys, dress up, festive/seasonal shenanigans, no use of Y/N, see individual fics for additional warnings

He Knows

Joel/Tommy one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

Does Your Mother Know

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel finds a pretty young thing on the beach to spend some time with on his vacation.

reader is able-bodied, reader wears a bikini & a dress, no outbreak AU, ambiguous beach location, both reader and Joel consume alcohol, age gap (20 years), oral sex (F and M receiving), semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on birth control, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

Tear You Apart

Joel one shot by @mermaidgirl30

Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

inhale, exhale

Joel one shot by @sp00kymulderr

This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Fingering, mentions of sex, smoking (both reader and Joel), canon typical violence mentions, needy!Joel, fear of intimacy. Barely edited as usual.

One Day at a Time

Joel series by @sixhours

Joel becomes a dad. Again

soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff

mine

Joel one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You encounter a frightening beast in the forest after getting separated from your group. Instead of killing you, he spares your life - the first of many surprises from this mysterious creature.

it's Joel Miller as a humanoid monster beast creature with a massive cock idk what you want me to say, creative liberties with anatomy and bodily fluids, they're soulmates because I wrote this so of course they are, monster!Joel can talk a little but it wouldn't kill him to watch a few episodes of Reading Rainbow or do some alphabet flash cards tbh, one curious use of an aquifer as a metaphor

Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

Joel one shot by @freelancearsonist

Joel finds a familiar face while out on a smuggling run.

Rated PG for pure angst, one single kiss, and references to Joel's self-inflicted gun wound/self harm

Ahórcame, Papí

Joel/Frankie/Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake

Lucien/Dieter two shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You've been avoiding your exes Dieter Bravo and Lucien Flores all night at this event, but you're forced to come to terms with how things ended in both relationships when they seek to right their wrongs.

this is truly just porn with minimal plot (I'm so proud of myself lol), Dieter and Lucien are messy exes, threesome activities, Twister but with genitalia, Daddy and Papi kinks

In shades of gray and candlelight

Marcus P one shot by @freelancearsonist

Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily

headshots

Marcus P series by @secretelephanttattoo

You're a photographer and you get a job working for the FBI, taking corporate headshots. On your first day, you run into a handsome Special Agent. The series follows their relationship.

Fluff. Smut. PIV. Romance. Flirting. So much kissing. Non-stop nuzzling. Tiny bit of angst. Marcus in his plaid shirts. Marcus on a motorbike. Skiing. A cameo. Sex talker Marcus.

The Infinity Cube

Marcus P/Various series by @littlemisspascal

When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

language, fluff, angst

12:32 PM

Marcus M one shot by @dancingtotuyo

Marcus likes to think he's moved on with life.

Grief, loss of a spouse (Wife), fluff

Given a name

Oberyn/Ellaria one shot by @missredherring

"This would be your greatest indulgence?" He asks, the edges of his beautiful mouth curling into a pleased grin. / How like a man to inflate his importance. It’s a pity that he isn’t wrong. / This will be my greatest selfishness.

Angst. Mentions of canon character deaths. Allusions to Greek mythology cos I'm a nerd. Reader chooses a name for herself.

Innocence need not tremble

Pero one shot by @brandyllyn

"I told you I don’t know how to fuck a maiden."

smut. PiV. starts rough. but gets better.

Cherry Wine

Whiskey one shot by @julesonrecord

Your marriage to your high school sweetheart has been hell for a long time, but when Jack discovers your awful secret, it all comes pouring out like a wine stain on the carpet. What do you find in the dregs?

MDNI; DDDNE; hurt people hurting people, domestic violence (verbal, physical, off stage neglect), there's a mention of human urine omg I'm truly horrified that survived the editing process, off stage drug use as a coping mechanism, alcoholism, infidelity, grief due to miscarriage/child loss, oblique suicidal ideations ("you should have killed me"); explicit smut; dirty talk; piv; fingering; possessive!Jack; emotional resolution?

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Four

I'm sorry this took forever. To make up for it, here is over 13k of pure and utter filth. Enjoy...

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 13.1k (whoops?)

Chapter Summary: It's porn, but with sprinkles of feelings. Also, Dave's wish finally comes true ;) Well, one of them at least.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. F/M/M threesome. Cucking/Wife sharing. Voyeurism. Derogatory Language. Daddy kink. Praise kink. Soft!Dave York. Dom!Dave York. PerfectHusband!Marcus Pike. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Unprotected p in v sex. Creampie. Rough p in v sex. Overstimulation. Biting. Slaps/spanks/swats (just a few). Sex toys. Anal play/fingering/rimming/sex (f receiving). If I missed anything else lmk!

Early the next morning (or, more accurately, in the middle of the night) you’re woken up by your very eager husband. A tired little moan escapes your lips when your eyelids begin to blink open, forced awake by the hot incessant mouth currently at your neck that’s licking and nipping and sucking at the tender flesh it manages to find in the dark and leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps in its wake.

“Baby?” you breathe out, brain still foggy but your body certainly caught up as you feel the all too familiar tingling sensation reach all the way to your toes.

“Need you” is all Marcus offers, words muffled into your throat.

You’re lying on your back and the bedclothes have been thrown off, leaving your naked body victim to the cool night air drafting in through the partially open window of the bedroom and Marcus is lying on his side, one arm underneath you and the other holding your face while he ruts his hips into your leg once, letting you know exactly just how much he needs you when the evidence of his arousal grinds into your hip.

You don’t know what’s gotten into him, but you’re certainly not mad at it. He’s not usually one to wake up in the dead of night needy for you (if anything, it was always the other way around) but you’re loving how desired he’s making you feel, how he seemingly just can’t help himself tonight.

It’s hot.

“Mmm, my poor baby” you giggle in response, reaching for his hand at your face and dragging it down to your breast. He hums in response and gives the mound a light squeeze before his fingers make delicate work of teasing your nipple with little pinches and pulls.

“Fuck, you were so hot tonight” Marcus breaths into your skin, voice already sounding desperate as he grinds into your hip again. His hand drifts from your chest down your stomach until it reaches between your legs and he moans when his fingers meet the sticky slick between your folds.

“Yeah? Tell me what you liked baby” you whimper while Marcus explores your sex with skilled digits, pushing all the way down to your entrance before coming back up to tease at your clit and repeating the action. “Wanna hear it”

“Fuck, I love how turned on you get” Marcus begins his confession, his touch getting a little more eager, more insistent. “Watching you let go. Love how hard you cum when we both make you cum together”

“Oh god” you whine quietly. You’re not sure if it’s Marcus’ words or his fingers that are driving you more crazy right now. You wrap your hand around his arm that’s over top of you, needing something to hold onto while your hips are canting off the bed, desperate to chase the pressure of his fingers.

“Wanna be inside you” Marcus breathes into your ear. “Please honey”

You nearly sob in response, aching and needy for him as well as you nod your head. Despite the multiple orgasms between the two of you earlier tonight the one thing that had been missing was Marcus inside you and you realize it’s been nearly a week since the last time you’d made love, no wonder you missed him so badly.

His fingers leave you and he rolls over top of you, settling between your legs and holding himself up on his elbows. One hand comes down to brush the hair from your face before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

“Ok?” He asks as he lines himself up at your entrance and waits for your go-ahead.

“Mmhmm. Just… go slow ok?” You ask, still feeling sore from the pounding Dave had given you earlier. A dull throb between your legs you have a feeling you’re going to be walking around with for days to come. Not that you’re complaining, mind you.

“You sore baby?” He asks, frown appearing on his sweet face and tone laced with concern. “We don’t have to…” he starts to trail off but you reach up and place a hand on his cheek and lock eyes with him.

“No, please. Marcus, I need you” you plead softly. “Please baby, I’m ok”

Marcus answers with a slight nod of his head and a push of his hips until the head of his cock is sheathed in your warm entrance and you both moan in unison, feeling so good to finally have him inside of you again. He doesn’t bury himself all the way in, mindful of your body and not wanting to cause you any further discomfort. He just gently pumps his hips, shallow little thrusts, just barely past his tip. In and out, in and out.

“Is that ok?” He asks, checking in with you and already sounding a little breathless.

“Yes baby, feels so good” you moan, both your hands coming around him to hold onto his ass as he rocks into you. “Kiss me all better with your cock, just like that”

“Fuck,” Marcus groans at your choice of words, his eyes closing shut and he breathes through his nose to force himself to concentrate.

“Baby come here,” you pout, bringing your hands up to wrap around the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss. His tongue slides inside to brush against yours and you moan appreciatively, your hands carding through his soft hair. “Missed having you inside me” you murmur against his lips when you break apart for air and a desperate little whine escapes Marcus as he nods his head against your forehead.

“Me too baby”

You slide your arms underneath his and then reach your hands up to curl them around his shoulders and gently pull him down on top of you and he lets you, his weight more on top of you now and the shift in position causes him to sink further inside of you.

“Oh my god” Marcus groans, mouth hot against your ear as he begins to kiss all over the side of your face.

Despite the soreness between your legs, having Marcus inside of you is everything you need. With each gentle push of his hips you feel the dull pain fading away as pleasure takes hold instead. Needing to feel more of him you cautiously bring your legs up and lock your ankles together behind his lower back, your heels digging into soft flesh.

“Fuck honey, I love you so much” he confesses, burying his face in your neck as he takes your queue and lowers his hips the rest of the way until he’s buried all the way in and you both moan when he fully bottoms out and stills his hips.

“Oh my god I could fucking cum already” Marcus groans, still unmoving and trying to get control of himself. Having not made love to you for days combined with everything that had happened earlier this evening he’s finding himself teetering dangerously close to the edge already but he wants to be able to last. You feel too good around him to end it so early.

“I’m sorry, I need a minute” he apologizes, pushing himself up on his forearms so he can stare down at you and your hands fall away from his shoulders.

“Marcus don’t ever be sorry with me” you tell him sincerely, brushing the back of your hand against his cheek and his eyes close at your tender touch. “Take all the time you need baby, I’ll just keep you warm” you tease, winking at him.

“You’re so fucking perfect” Marcus sighs. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Mmm, I’m the lucky one” you counter, brushing your hands through his hair again and holding the back of his head. “You’re so good to me baby”

“I love you” he tells you again, barely above a whisper before he tilts his head down and kisses you soundly. A tiny moan escapes your throat when he gently rocks his hips into you, starting to move again.

“You feel amazing” he murmurs against your lips before he begins trailing kisses to the side of your face, down your jaw and to your throat. His body lowers down onto yours again as he continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, staving off his own impending release.

“Oh Marcus,” you mewl, arms wrapping around his neck again to keep him as close as possible. “Please don’t stop baby, keep going. Need to feel you, please” you whine. Now that you’ve had a taste again after what seems like so long you don’t want him to leave you anytime soon.

“I won’t baby, I won’t” he promises, continuing with the slow and sensual slide of hips, filling you so completely every time his pelvis brushes against yours.

And he doesn’t stop. Marcus makes love to you literally until the sun comes up. It’s lazy and slow and passionate and the height of intimacy. You’re wrapped around him, limbs entangled and mouths everywhere as they kiss and lick and whisper little adorations into the heat of each other’s skin. You’ve come twice already and somehow Marcus has managed to hold himself off but you know that not only is he exhausted but he’s desperate for his own release. He stops mid-fuck occasionally to either just still inside of you for long minutes or pull out of you and take himself in his own hand, needing a breather and to hold off his orgasm and he looks so beautiful when he does that, you think to yourself. Muscles taught everywhere as his back arches and he tries desperately to hold himself together, jaw clenched and eyes closed like there’s an invisible thread threatening to snap.

“Please baby, please cum” you whisper into his ear while he continues to slowly rock in and out of you. It’s been well over an hour, probably nearing two, and you don’t have another orgasm in you to give. You know your body and she’s waving the white flag.

“Yeah?” Marcus breathes, hips picking up the pace only slightly. “You want it inside you?”

“Yes baby. Let go, fuck me. Need you to fuck me, please” you whimper and Marcus groans, arm coming down to lift your right leg up so he can push deeper inside of you and he sets a much faster pace, finally chasing his own much needed release.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” he gasps, hips pistoning into you hard and fast, eyes closed in concentration. "Oh god, I'm close"

“Look at me baby, I wanna see you” you beg and Marcus is helpless against your soft little pleas, his eyes opening and staring into yours as he feels himself falling apart.

“Shit, baby I… fuck” he lets out a final groan as he buries himself to the absolute hilt and stills, cock pulsing as it spills deep inside of you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck,” he’s panting, pulling back just slightly before rocking back into you again and again, slow deep thrusts as he fucks his cum back inside of you. “Oh fuuuuuck you feel so good”

You love when he gets like this, completely wrecked for you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down until his full weight rests on top of you, his cock still twitching deep inside and you wrap your legs around his back again to hold him there for as long as he’ll allow it.

You both end up falling back asleep with him still inside of you and you call out to work that morning when you do finally wake up, deciding you deserve to take a “personal day”. You spend the whole day in bed together, kissing and cuddling and just wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

*****

It becomes an unspoken agreement between the two of you after that. In the days upcoming to whenever Dave comes over again you and Marcus refrain from having sex, knowing now how good it feels to have missed each other when you’re finally back in each other's arms again after Dave pulls the painfully taught thread loose and unravels you both. His visits start becoming a little more frequent, too. It's become essentially a bi-weekly routine you've set since your impromptu “sick day” with Marcus and today marks the third visit since then (the sixth time overall, not that you’re keeping count).

Tonight however will be a little different as Marcus has decided he wants to take on more of an observant role rather than a participatory one like he usually does. Dave is due at your door any minute and Marcus has already texted, letting Dave know you need to be taken care of.

It’s a vicious cycle, really. Marcus gets off on you getting off, and seeing how worked up Marcus gets up from it only gets you hotter. And Dave, well. Dave seems perfectly content being along for the ride and ultimately being the reason for you both taking your pleasure to new heights. And given his increased visits and never declining an invitation, it’s clear Dave is getting as much as he gives, too. A vicious cycle, as you said. You’re honestly shocked at how well everything is going between the three of you.

The familiar knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts and you look over at Marcus excitedly.

“Go answer it” Marcus nods towards the door with a cheeky little grin on his lips before settling himself back into the couch. It’s normally Marcus who does while you’re waiting upstairs so despite it being something as mundane as answering the door, there’s a little thrill that runs through you as you hurry over to it and pull it open.

You don’t even get a greeting past your lips before Dave is on you. He pushes himself inside, arms wrap around you and hands go straight to your ass as he gives it a firm squeeze as he turns you, slamming the door shut by force with your back by pressing your bodies into it. His mouth is at your throat, devouring every inch of flesh at his disposal that isn’t covered by your flimsy silk robe. It’s all tongue and teeth and desperation and you clutch at his shoulders, letting your head fall back in a soft thud against the door to give him better access.

One of his hands leaves your ass and you feel it at your waist before he pulls on the sash of your robe and it parts open. His warm hand is on your stomach next, traveling upwards to knead into your breast and he moans into your throat when he feels the naked flesh of you. You’ve quickly come to realize that wearing too much clothing around Dave is just a waste of time in the end so tonight you’re only in a pair of panties and your knee-length robe which Dave is currently pushing off your shoulders to pool at your feet.

“So fucking naughty for me tonight aren’t you? All ready for me” Dave growls into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and gently bites down, causing a hiss of pain to escape your lips and your hands fly to his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and tugging at the short dark chocolate strands.

He’s feisty tonight. You like it.

“Turn around” he orders gruffly, both hands coming to your hips and turning you in his grasp so you face the door. He manhandles you into the position he wants, your wrists crossed over top of each other against the door and your forehead leaning against them then he kicks your legs wider apart and pulls your hips back so your spine is arched and your ass is stuck out, pressed against his crotch. He gives an exploratory thrust of his hips, his obvious desire for you unmistakably hard, even through the thick material of his pants as he pushes it into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Just like that” he breathes before he brings one hand up to grip the back of your neck and keep your face against the door and his right comes down to land a hard blow to your ass cheek and you jump in surprise, something between a gasp, a shout and a moan leaving your lips.

“Good girl” Dave praises, hand gently smoothing over what is surely a deep red mark already. His hand wanders then, going around your front and between your legs instead and he presses two fingers into your heat, chuckling darkly when he feels how wet you are already.

“Oh you missed your Daddy, didn’t you?” He breathes into your ear as his fingers circle your clit and a little sob escapes you.

“Answer me” he growls, taking your earlobe between his teeth and then pressing your face harder into your wrists with the grip he has on the back of your neck.

“Yes! Fuck, I missed you Daddy” you cry out. “I’m so wet for you”

That seems to appease him for now as his hand leaves your neck, his teeth release you and his tongue soothes over it instead before he gently pulls the lobe into his mouth and sucks greedily.

“That’s all right baby, I’ll take care of you” he murmurs against your ear before planting a soft kiss just behind it. “You need to cum, hmmm? Need me to play with this little pussy for a bit?” he asks and you whimper, nodding your head frantically against your wrists. It’s been over a week since you were last with Marcus (your period truly had a cruel sense of humor sometimes) and you’ve been on edge for days, desperate for a release and Dave was already quickly unraveling you.

“Please,” you whine, not caring how needy you sound, you know Dave likes it anyway.

“Turn around for me sweetheart” he instructs, his hands leaving you and he takes a slight step back giving you room. You do as you're told, turning around and leaning back against the door. Eye to eye again, Dave cradles your face in his large hands and surges forward, crashing his mouth into yours, tongue instantly demanding entrance which you grant happily and he swallows down all your little moans while he kisses you until you're breathless. His hands leave your face to slip between your back and the door to grope at your ass, large palms massaging while nimble fingers dig into the soft flesh, threatening to leave bruises as a reminder for you of who this ass belongs to. Not that you could forget, he's sure to remind you just about every time you see him.

His kisses eventually slow as you both gulp for air between desperate presses of your lips together until he finally pulls away from them entirely and starts trailing his mouth down your throat instead, to your collarbone, the valley between your breasts and steadily downwards as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you following the descent of his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, hands pushing through his hair as he’s kneeled eye level with your aching and needy sex. You need him so badly and he knows it, so he deliberately takes his time.

He plants little kisses along your waist, your hips, his tongue teasingly prodding under the waistline of your panties and you're cursing yourself now for even wearing them. He presses a single kiss to the damp center of them at your mound and then passes over the rest of you to plant little kisses to the insides of your thighs instead. Your head falls back against the door again, your breathing uneven and coming out in short little huffs while your fingers continue to rake through his hair.

“Put this leg up on my shoulder baby” he instructs, patting the thigh of your left leg and you obey, hooking it over his shoulder while his hand grips at your waist to hold you steady against the door.

“Good girl” he tells you before nuzzling his nose into your heat, breathing in your scent through the soaked little scrap of fabric keeping you apart. “Ruining your panties like my good little slut, hmm? Aughta shove them down your throat, give you a taste of what a good girl you are for me”

“Oh fuck,” you whisper breathlessly. In all honesty you’d probably let him do whatever he wants to you right now, you’re so desperate.

He takes the knuckle of his index finger and drags a line down your center overtop of your panties, applying just the right amount of pressure and your knees nearly buckle. You whimper pathetically and it only spurs his teasing on, deciding to replace his finger with his tongue; pointed tip dragging a delicious stripe up the center of your already dampened panties before he begins to just kiss and lick all over them.

“Oh please, please, please” you whimper so softly he barely hears it and for a moment you’re not even sure you’ve said it out loud, the blood rushing to your ears drowning everything else out.

Apparently he does hear you though because not a moment later he’s grabbing a fist full of your underwear and yanking them aside as his mouth finally descends on your bare cunt and he begins to devour you whole.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” You gasp out. One hand flies to the door handle to give you something more to hold onto and the other one clutches into his hair, keeping him impossibly close as feasts on you with unprecedented enthusiasm.

Your eyes fly open and somewhere in the haze of lust you notice Marcus, standing across at the other end of the hall of the entryway now, leaning against the doorframe. His hand slowly strokes over the bulge in his pants and his gaze never leaves you, needing to be witness to the moment you fall apart. He loves this, sharing your pleasure with you. Loves the way your mouth parts, how the muscles in your abdomen tighten and contract with each labored breath, the way your eyes threaten to close but you fight so hard to keep them open for him.

The two of you had a long, very candid conversation not long ago when the frequency of Dave’s visits increased. You promised each other from the start that you’d be open and honest and agreed that communication was paramount if this was going to work and that if anything started to change, you’d address it head on.

And it had. Changed.

What started out as an endeavor for Marcus to learn from Dave and be able to offer you the things in your sex life that weren’t there before turned into a realization for you both after spending time with Dave. You didn’t want Marcus to be like Dave, you wanted Marcus to be Marcus, but you still wanted to have Dave. Dave was a craving. A particular itch that seemingly only he could scratch; the only one you wanted to scratch it.

You didn’t want Marcus to change. You love him so much and you absolutely love how he takes care of you in bed and you realize that maybe the reason it wasn’t ‘working’ when the two of you tried new things is because it wasn’t meant to. You still wanted the man you fell in love with. Dave offered you something else and you were honest with Marcus when you told him you like that too. It’s sexy and exciting and both your sex lives were better for it, neither of you could argue that. Marcus agreed. He loved how hot Dave could make you, and he liked himself to be the one to step in and take care of you the way he longed to either during or afterward. He wasn't as comfortable or confident in his ability to provide for you what Dave did, but he wanted you to have it (for himself as much as for you). And so it was settled. Dave stayed. You weren’t sure how long he’d want to be in your lives for, you had yet to have a real conversation between the three of you about it but for now you were happy that things were going as well as they were.

So now, when you stand across the room from your husband with another man between your legs and he stares into your eyes, you know there’s only love and desire there. No jealousy or resentment, just the love of your life ensuring your every happiness and it turns you on nearly as much as what’s going on below your waist.

Dave’s tongue is everywhere, driving you mad with want for long minutes on end and you can do little but try and focus any concentration you have on keeping yourself upright while he has you at his complete mercy, eating you out like you’re his last meal and meant to be savored. He licks long broad stripes up your center with the flat of his tongue, laps into your folds, sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth and even fucks into you with his tongue occasionally. While you're no stranger to having a mans mouth between your legs for long periods of time (Marcus would spend hours down there if you'd let him), it's definitely not the same when you're not flat on your back. Your every muscle strains with the effort to keep yourself upright while every nerve ending is tingling from the sensations caused by Dave's skilled mouth and tongue and eventually, barely able to take anymore, your legs threaten to give out from under you.

“Shit!” Your legs are like jelly and you nearly feel like you’re about to topple over him, your arm shooting out to catch yourself on Dave's shoulder when suddenly Marcus is there. He grabs both of your arms and shoves them up over your head and into the door, his hands holding at your wrists. The brief flicker of surprise you feel at his sudden action is quickly overcome by sheer arousal. Marcus holding you down while Dave pleasures you sends a flood of arousal straight to your core and a strangled sob escapes your lips. His stance is mirroring yours from earlier, legs spread wide, his body leaned forward towards you at his waist because Dave is on the floor between the two of you and Dave groans into your cunt when he flicks his gaze upwards and sees what’s happening above him. He begins to double his efforts then, starts licking through your folds again with an increased pace and pressure and sensing how close you are shoves two fingers inside of you and begins frantically flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit, over and over and over while his digits pump in and out of you and it's not long until you’re falling apart.

“Oh my god, I’m fucking cumming” you wail, eyes locked onto Marcus’ while Dave doesn’t let up, apparently intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity as wave after wave of arousal rushes out of you and he happily laps it all up, face deep in your cunt and moaning into you as he licks and finger fucks you through every deliriously exquisite second of your release.

Your leg up on his shoulder is trembling from your orgasm and Dave thankfully extracts his fingers and slows his mouth to greedy little swipes of his tongue, cleaning up the mess he’s made of you before he carefully lifts your leg from his shoulder and places it back to the ground. Marcus lets go of you too, taking your hands in his and then placing them down on Dave’s shoulders so you can hold yourself steady again and he takes a step to the side so Dave can rise up from the floor. The moment he’s up your left arm wraps around his neck, pulling him against you and the other tugs Marcus forward so you can wrap it around his neck too and you're hugging both of them to you, their bodies pressing you into the door on either side of you. You feel them press a little closer together as Marcus slings his own arm around Dave’s waist, hand clutching into his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You sigh, pressing a kiss into the side of Dave’s head before turning and doing the same to Marcus. Both strong bodies hold you up against the door while tremors continue to rack your entire body, your legs shaky and unsteady underneath you. Dave is breathing heavily into your neck from his efforts and Marcus isn’t faring much better, but for slightly different reasons that you can feel pressing hard into your hip.

“Baby, you came so fucking hard” Marcus laughs into your throat. “That was so hot” he confesses before pressing a kiss to your neck.

You ruffle his hair with your hand and then turn your face back towards Dave and place a quick kiss to the shell of his ear.

“Thank you Daddy” you whisper against it and he hums into your shoulder.

“Nearly had me coming in my pants, naughty little slut” he growls into your skin before giving you a gentle little bite and soothing over it with his tongue. He brings a hand up and pinches a nipple between his thumb and index finger and high pitched gasp escapes you followed by a delightful little squeal of laughter.

“Mmm, take me upstairs, show me how bad I’ve been” you suggest seductively and both men groan into the hot flesh of your throat.

It’s Marcus who leaps into action first, ready and eager to really get started. He lets go of Dave and places a hand behind your knees and scoops you up into his arms and kisses you before he heads for the stairs, carrying you bridal style the entire way up with Dave trailing closely behind.

“You sure you don’t wanna fuck her? She’s ripe for the picking” Dave offers, giving Marcus a quick little wink right after he’s set you down on the bed.

“You two have fun, I’ll make it up to her later” Marcus promises you, placing a kiss at the corner of your lips before he pulls away from you and goes to sit at the armchair on the other side of the bed. You make quick work of ridding yourself of your panties and tossing them aside, not wanting them in the way anymore and Dave raises an eyebrow at your eagerness.

“Oh we’ll have fun” Dave chuckles darkly. “Come here” he growls at you before he grabs you by the ankles and yanks you forward so you’re on your back, your ass at the edge of the mattress, near threatening to fall off.

His hands grip around your hips as his thumbs press into your pelvis, massaging in tight little circles with just the right amount of pressure and he pushes his still clothed groin against yours to prove his point of just how hard you've made him already. You whimper when it presses right into your center and grinds down with a promise of what's to come

"Yeah you need this cock, don't you sweetheart?" Dave breathes out, eyes sliding shut and you know he needs it just as much as you do. Not that he'd ever admit that. He likes it when you're the one begging.

"Mmmhmmm" You nod your head. "I need it so bad, please"

He takes a step away from you then, hands leaving you as well.

“Open up wide for me baby” he instructs, tapping his hand at the outside of your thigh and you lift your legs into the air, bent at your knees and spread them into a v-shape.

“Wider” he demands, grabbing both your thighs and pushing down until you’re near doing the splits in front of him, your knees almost touching down on either side of the mattress if you went much further. It’s definitely as far as you can go without causing yourself physical harm and thankfully Dave doesn’t push further, seemingly satisfied with you.

"That's it" he grins. "Hold them open" He instructs and you have to hook your arms under your knees and bring your hands around to grab around your ankles just to keep in the position he wants you in. Your heart is racing already and he hasn't even begun, just being so vulnerable for him makes the anticipation palpable.

"Mmm, that's my good girl, look at you on display for me" he clicks his tongue and then puts two of his fingers into his mouth and wets them before bringing them down between your legs to stroke through your folds and spread your arousal around before briefly pushing his fingers inside of you while his other hand other works on pulling his belt free and releasing himself from the confines of his pants. He spits into his own hand and brings it down to his member, pumping himself a few times before he lines himself up with your entrance, removes his fingers and with one push of his hips, sinks inside of you.

“Oh fuck” you whimper at the way he’s able to press so impossibly deep with the way you’re spread open for him.

“Shit” Dave curses as well, stilling for a moment and his hands come down to rest on your legs. He's not forcing you further open, but keeping just how he wants you. He knows the harder he fucks you the more inclined you’re going to be to try and move, voluntary or not. He slides completely out of you and then slowly back in, repeating the action a couple times just to tease you and it's working as you whimper above him, attempting to chase his cock with shallow movements of your hips.

“Don’t fucking move” he warns, squeezing the meat of your thighs for emphasis. “You’re gonna stay just like this and be a good little fuckdoll for me, hmm?” He asks you and quickly nod.

“Yes Daddy”

“That’s my girl” he praises before he pulls his hips back and slams into you, causing you to shift slightly up the mattress with the sheer force of his thrust.

“Oh my god, fuck!” you gasp out, the wind nearly knocked out of you from how deeply he hits inside of you. Your legs are trembling already just trying to keep them spread and it’s a good thing Dave was there to help hold onto them because you definitely wouldn’t be able to hold the position long otherwise.

His hand comes down to slap against your clit and another jolt rocks your body as a breathy gasp escapes your lips.

"I told you not to fucking move" He snarls, cock stilled and buried inside you, his hands moving to grip roughly at your hips. "Either be still while I fuck you or we're just gonna sit here like this all night with you keeping my dick warm until one of us fucking passes out and sweetheart, it ain't gonna be me"

Oh fuck.

Your legs are already like jelly from earlier and with the position he's got you in now they're already shaking with the effort to keep them open for him and you don't doubt he'll punish you for as long as he believes you can stand it so you're not about to take that chance.

"I'm sorry Daddy, please, I'll be so good for you. Please, please fuck me"

"That's better" he smirks. He snaps his hips again, another deep, hard thrust but this time not only is Dave holding your hips but you're prepared for it and brace yourself for the impact and thankfully you don't shift up the mattress this time.

"See, you can do it" Dave praises your efforts, rewarding you with another equally rough snap of his hips.

“God you’re so fucking deep” you groan out, eyes nearly rolling back into your head and he rewards you with another.

“Yeah, you feel me in there" he huffs a little laugh at your expense, hand leaving your hip to come down and pat against the lower part of your stomach just above your waistline. "Gonna rearrange your goddamn guts sweetheart” he threatens before he puts his hand back at your hip and really starts fucking you in earnest. He sets a ruthless pace immediately and he was right, you can practically feel him in your fucking stomach with every slam of his hips into yours, pushing so deep, so hard and so fast. Your little whines and whimpers only encourage him too. He likes you to be loud, to tell him how good it feels and makes it his mission to pull those sounds out of you.

And he does. You’re a whimpering, whining, mewling mess beneath him within minutes of this starting, making all kinds of desperate noises for him that you barely even recognize yourself.

“Taking me so good baby, fuck” he growls, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips while he pounds you into submission. You cry out when he hits a particularly deep spot and he takes that information and runs with it. Rutting into you over and over again at the same angle, teeth bared, neck veins prominent and breathing labored with his exerted efforts.

“Oh my god, right there, yes” you cry as you feel your walls begin to flutter. “Oh I’m so close”

"Let go baby, let go" Dave commands, slamming into you over and over. His right hand comes down so his thumb can press into your clit and you come almost immediately; hips arching off the bed as best they can given your position and Dave chases every last second of your release as you gush around him until your hips slow and you finally begin to settle again, little whimpers of 'oh my god' and Dave's name falling from your lips.

“Fuck!” Dave growls again and finally gives you some relief for your legs and untangles your limbs to wrap your legs around his waist instead as he begins to grind into you. "So good baby" he praises.

He continues to rut into you and it's not long before you're feeling another orgasm coming on on fast and strong, hot on the heels of your last one. His right hand leaves your hip and you hear some rustling around. You try to crane your neck the best you can to see what's going on but it turns out you don't need to see, the faint buzzing sound coming to life let's you know exactly what he'd been digging around your nightstand for.

"Want you to scream for me Sweetheart" Dave grunts as he lowers the bulbous head of the vibrator wand to your clit and presses down.

"Oh fuck!" You cry out, hips jolting at the sudden infliction but Dave brings his other hand to press down on your stomach, holding you still before he begins fucking into you again at the same angle as earlier. His hips thrust rough and fast while he presses the wand tightly against your clit and rubs it around in tight little circles, feeling your impending orgasm approach again as your legs tighten around his waist and he hears you gasp.

"Oh keep going, oh please, please, please" you cry, edging on the cusp of orgasm, every nerve ending in your body tingling and begging for release. Your toes curl inward and your ankles lock around the small of Dave's back as little white spots start to form around your vision when your eyes squeeze shut.

"Oh god, oh yes. Fuck, yes, yes, yes, ohhhhh!" You come with a scream, your orgasm lasting for several long seconds as your back arches off the bed and your hands fist into the bed covers beneath you. You can feel your release gushing out of you like a steady stream and you’re so fucked out you feel like you could pass out. Dave doesn't let up either. He thankfully tosses the toy aside but continues fucking you through it the whole time until your walls finally begin to unclench and the death grip your legs had around his waist loosens.

“Holy shit” you breathe out in a little laugh, your post orgasmic haze giving you the giggles. Dave slows, thankfully, to just lazy little thrusts. He’s still rock hard inside you so you know he hasn’t finished yet but he’s giving you some reprieve it seems, slowly fucking you down from your high.

Both his hands come to lay flat on your stomach and smooth upwards until he has your breasts in his large palms, gently massaging them in his grasp. “Look at you, fucking cockdrunk” Dave tuts, but you can see the little smile on his lips, pleased with himself that he’s gotten you into this euphoric state. You find it wildly arousing that he has zero qualms about using toys to help you achieve greater orgasms. Others you had been with in the past, Marcus excluded, had been weird about it. Almost jealous like they're in competition with an inanimate object. You found in your experience it took a confident man to use them with you and nothing was sexier than confidence. The wand itself had actually been a gift from Marcus and the two of you had used it on many occasions. You can't see him now from the way you're lying on the bed as he's behind you on the other side of the room but you don't doubt that little show likely really worked him up.

One of Dave's hand leaves your breast to grip around his cock as he pulls out of you, ignoring your little whine at the loss. Still hard and heavy in his own hand he slaps his dick against your clit once, twice and a final third time and something between a high-pitched gasp and a giggle escapes you with how oversensitive you are.

“Holy shit. I can’t, I can’t” you whimper giddily, wriggling in his grasp and your hand instinctively goes to your mound, cupping it to shield it from Dave's delightful torture.

“Sorry Pike,” Dave frowns as he speaks to your husbands but his eyes don’t leave you. “Think this pussy’s closed for business for tonight but don’t worry, her mouth is like a goddamn 7-11. Never fucking closes, isn’t that right baby?” Dave huffs a little laugh at you before yanking you upright on the bed by your arms. You let out a surprised little shriek, laughter bubbling out of you again as he positions you onto your knees in front of him.

“You wanna suck my cock Princess? Hmmm?” He asks, mouth at your neck now that you’re eye level with each other again and leaving little tiny nips and kisses down the side of it until he reaches your collarbone and then starts his ascent back up the way he came.

His hands come up between your bodies and grab for both breasts, pushing them together and massaging roughly in his large hands.

“Or I could fuck your tits” he breathes into your ear. “These perfect fucking tits” he praises, releasing one just long enough to be able to pinch and pull at the taught nipple and you whimper, pulling your lip between your teeth and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Tell me what you want, baby. I’m feeling generous, since you were such a good girl for me. Taking me so well and cumming all over my cock" he whispers filthily against your ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth and moaning around it.

You take a minute to respond. You know what you want to say, you’re just working yourself up to say it out loud and maybe Dave can sense it in you because he doesn’t push, just waits for your answer he knows will come soon enough, whatever it is. You wrap your arms a little tighter and he reciprocates, letting go of your chest to wrap his arms around your back.

You hug him to you for long moments, hand pushing through his hair as he just nuzzles into your neck and lets you hold him.

“What is it baby?” He asks, surprisingly softly.

You take a deep breath.

“I think… I wanna try it tonight” you whisper into his ear and you feel his shoulders tense. He knows exactly what you’re referring to and he pushes away from you slightly until you’re face to face.

“Are you sure?” He asks, needing you to be one hundred percent certain.

You nod your head. “I’m ready, I want to” you tell him and his mouth is instantly on yours, kissing you soundly until he finally releases you and cradles your face in his hands, making eye contact with you searching your gaze for any lingering doubt that may be there.

“Will you just um… be gentle with me? I know you’ve wanted to do this for a while but,”

“I will” he affirms, cutting you off mid-sentence. He knows what you’re thinking. The way he’s spoken about it before, about ruining you. It was just that, talk. He’d never actually hurt you and he knows you’ve never done this before so he’ll go as slow as you need him to your first time and you can build up to everything else another time, only if you want of course.

You start unbuttoning his shirt, popping them open one by one in a line down his chest and he allows it, knowing your nerves are a little on edge and you just need a moment before the inevitable happens. Besides that he knows you prefer him naked rather than clothed while he’s with you and while sometimes he keeps them on, probably as a power move as much as anything else, other times he seems just as adamant as you are to feel you skin to skin.

Once you’ve got all the buttons free you push it from his shoulders and he shrugs it off the rest of the way and tosses it to the floor. Your hands go back to his shoulders and then smooth down the hard plane of his chest, his softer stomach and then finally rest at the waistband of his pants that are surprisingly still mostly in place, just his button and fly open and the front of his boxers shoved down just enough so that his now semi-hard cock hangs free.

He’s being surprisingly patient with you, letting you do whatever you want with him and it’s rare that he does so you take your time with it. You lean forward and bring your mouth to his jaw, peppering kisses to it while your hands busy themselves shoving his pants and boxers down his thighs and he helps by shoving them the rest of the way down and kicking out of them. Your mouth trails down to the column of his throat where you kiss and lick and suck on every inch of him and your right hand goes to his cock and begins stroking him to full mast once again.

"Can I suck you a little bit first?" You ask sweetly, voice barely above a whisper. He knows it's to buy yourself some time as much as anything else but he nods his head and plants a kiss into your hair.

"Of course you can baby"

You get down on all fours and promptly take him into your mouth. He moans as your lips envelop him and your warm tongue strokes along his length but unlike usual he doesn't grab your hair or force himself down your throat, just lets you go at your own pace while he leans back and enjoys every second.

"That's good baby, suck that cock, just like that" he hums his praise for you, eyes closed and one hand gently stroking through your hair. You moan into him, always eager for any praise he gives you, and bring your hand up to wrap around whatever part of him doesn't fit into your mouth and time your strokes with the bobs of your head while you swallow him down. After a couple of minutes you're feeling your nerves settle again and your actions slow to take him long and deep into your throat a few times before you finally pull back and pepper little kisses to the tip instead, tongue darting out to give tiny kitten licks to his leaking slit.

"Feel better now?" Dave chuckles at you, hand wrapping gently around your chin to tilt your face up to look at him. "Just needed a taste of your Daddy's cock, hmm?"

"Yes" you're smiling widely up at him, gaze trained on his as your tongue sticks out for one final lick. "Tastes so good"

"I'm gonna get you ready now, ok?" He explains and you nod your head, feeling ready to get started. "Turn around" he instructs next and you obey, staying on hands and knees but turning to face the opposite direction. Your gaze falls on Marcus finally for pretty much the first time since you'd come up to the bedroom. He's down to just his t-shirt and boxer briefs and he's slowly palming and stroking himself over top of the black cotton.

"Hi baby" he smiles at you before he pushes himself up from the chair, takes the few small steps to the edge of the bed and then leans down, wrapping a hand around your chin and then kissing you soundly. You moan into his mouth, pleased to grant access to his tongue as it seeks out and entangles with yours. While Marcus distracts you with his kisses Dave starts massaging the globes of your ass and gently spreading your cheeks, repeating the action a few times and you're smiling into Marcus' lips as he continues to swallow down all your little moans.

"Oh!" you let out a little gasp and your body jerks as you feel the hot wet press of what can only be Dave's tongue suddenly against you, licking a long, slow stripe with the flat of his tongue.

"Oh fuck" you whimper in a little cry, lips breaking away from Marcus to pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes closing without your permission when Dave groans his appreciation for your taste into your tight hole. His hands continue to massage as his tongue licks and prods at your entrance and a shudder racks your entire body

"Oh my god baby, fuck" Marcus breathes, planting his lips to your forehead and holding your face in his large hands. "Feels good huh?"

"Mmm hmm," you manage with a broken sob. "Oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck." With all the territory you had ventured into with Dave so far, rimming had not been a part of it yet and it's not even something you knew you wanted or needed so desperately until this moment.

"God that feels so good, fuck!" you curse, letting Dave know exactly how good he's making you feel and you feel as much as you hear him chuckle a little laugh against you but he otherwise doesn't let up. His tongue alternates between stiffening and relaxing as he licks and kisses and nudges at the tight ring of muscle and your whole body trembles with the effort to keep yourself upright, your limbs turning to jelly as he slowly licks you open.

"Shit" Marcus groans, all your little whines and whimpers driving him mad with want. Despite what he told himself for tonight he can't help it any longer. His hand leaves your face and goes to tug his boxers down to his thigh as he wraps a hand around the base of his leaking cock and squeezes. "Baby, please" he whines, not needing to elaborate. You already know exactly what he needs so when he kneels on the bed right in front of you, you waste no time in lowering your head to take his throbbing length into your mouth.

"Oh yeah, fuck baby" Marcus breathes, head falling back as his hand gently plays in your hair. "Oh you feel so good" he praises, sounding wrecked already. In his defence the two of you have been abstaining for far too long and he's already had to witness you through multiple orgasms tonight, you're surprised he's held out as long as he has.

Dave's tongue finally leaves you as he pulls back slightly and you hear him let out a low whistle when he sees you with Marcus halfway down your throat at the other end of the bed. "Perfect goddamn slut you are" he growls before he nips playfully at the meat of your left cheek and you jump slightly, needing to pull off of Marcus for a second when you let out a little laugh.

"Who says you get to have all the fun?" You tease and that earns you another little nip, this time to the other cheek.

"Fun? Baby I haven't even begun to have my fun with this sweet little ass yet" He chuckles before landing a light swat with his right palm and then grabs a handful of your ass in a quick squeeze. "Now you get back to minding your own business up there and leave me to mine back here" he orders, giving you another quick little swat and you gasp out but then quickly obey, lips enveloping around Marcus' length again and moaning around him as you take him as deeply down your throat as you can and begin to suck.

"Fuck, slow baby, slow" Marcus hisses, hand gripping into your hair and easing you off of him. "I wanna last"

"Sorry" you giggle. "Just taste so good baby" you hum against him before peppering little kisses and licks to his tip. You're distracted, momentarily, when you feel oily slick fingers at your hole, Dave gently smearing the lubricant around and you swallow down a moan, your eyes closing again as you anticipate what's to come. His fingers leave you for a moment and you hear the lid of the bottle snap shut again and the distinct lewd sounds of Dave pumping his own cock as he coats himself with the lube.

"Relax now for me baby, just like we practiced" Dave says calmly, fingers coming to gently trace and prod at your entrance. You moan and then needing the distraction, your mouth wraps around Marcus again, this time taking him slowly. Only about half of his length fits comfortably in your mouth and you gently begin to bob your head up and down on him as Dave continues to tease your asshole.

"Ohhhh, that's it" Marcus breathes out, both hands in your hair now gently gathering it so he can hold it in one and get a better view of you swallowing him down. "Just like that, nice and slow" he praises.

"Nice and slow," Dave reiterates as he gently and slowly pushes his index finger inside of you all the way to his second knuckle and he smirks as he hears you moaning around Marcus. He pumps his digit in and out a few times and when it begins to slide in and out easily he adds his second finger as well, stilling them inside you a moment to get used to them until he feels your muscles relax again.

"That's my good girl, you can take it" he praises as he slowly starts to pump them into you. "Gonna feel so good around my cock baby" he groans.

"Oh my god," you whimper, needing to pull off of Marcus for a moment as Dave continues working you open, fingers alternating from pumping in and out of you to scissoring you open. You crane your neck around best you can to look back at him, mouth hanging open and eyes half lidded as they fall on Dave who looks deeply concentrated as he buries his fingers in your ass.

"Do you want your toy for a bit first?" He asks, referring to the plug he's bought you but you quickly shake your head.

"Just want you, please"

Surprisingly you don’t feel that nervous. You’d had enough “practice” now with Dave, as he liked to call it, the last few times you’d seen him and occasionally on your own when the mood struck you and so now you're feeling ready. You tried not to get in your head though, didn’t go into tonight assuming this would happen, though you wanted it to and had gotten yourself prepared earlier just in case. You just told yourself if you wanted to go for it, you could but if not, you didn’t have to. You didn’t mention it to Dave or even Marcus beforehand, in case you didn’t end up wanting to going through with it. You didn’t want any added pressure.

“Help her relax,” Dave directs Marcus calmly and Marcus nods, his free hand smoothing down your back in a gentle caress.

“I’ve got you baby, I'm right here” he whispers and you smile, turning back to him, your head tilting up so your gaze finds his above you.

“I know”

Dave gently removes his fingers from you and you feel it then, the press of his tip gently notching at your entrance.

“Ok?” He asks as he smooths his hands over your ass and begins a gentle massage.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“If you want to stop, just say the word. I promise I’ll stop”

“I know” you confirm, turning your head back to make eye contact with him.

“Ok” he nods and then wraps his right hand around his shaft while his left helps spread your cheeks open and he tentatively pushes forward. The tip of his dick kisses at your puckered hole and despite what you told yourself a million times you weren’t going to do, you feel your body tense at the threat of intrusion.

“Relax baby” Dave soothes, tip still resting just outside your entrance as his hand smooths down your hip. “You’ve gotta relax your muscles, I don’t want it to hurt you”

“I know, I’m sorry” you take a steadying breath and close your eyes turning back towards Marcus in an attempt to let all your anxiety out.

“Don’t apologize” Dave tells you softly, giving your hip a little squeeze. “You’re ok baby”

You look up to Marcus again, silent plea behind your eyes and he flashes you a warm smile, knowing what you need.

His hand leaves your back and he brings it to his mouth, sucking two fingers into it and then reaching underneath you until his digits find your aching clit and begin to gently circle the needy little bundle of nerves and a string of small little whimpers leave your lips.

“That’s better isn’t it. You like when Marcus plays with your little pussy, baby?” Dave begins again, slipping back into his role as his head notches at your entrance again and his hand goes back to smoothing over the rounded curve of your ass.

“Mmm hmm” your eyes close voluntarily as Marcus lulls you into a comforting bliss by his little barely-there touches below you. His free hand goes to stroke himself and your eyes open when he positions his leaking member back to your face. You surge forward, eager to have him back in your mouth and a long moan escapes you as your lips fully envelop him once more.

“Feels good, huh? Fingers in your needy little cunt, cock shoved deep in that pretty mouth” Dave comments and you can practically hear him grinning.

He’s distracting you, and to his credit, it’s working. Your eyes close again, your muscles relax and this time when Dave begins to push past the tight ring of muscle your body doesn’t fight it and he’s able to sink his head all the way inside.

“Fuuuckkkkk” Dave groans, looking down to see his tip disappear inside your ass.

“So good for me baby” he praises, leaning down to place a kiss on your back before straightening back up again so he can watch what he's doing. “You look so fucking good stretched around my cock, Jesus Christ”

“Oh my god” you whine, lips popping off of Marcus momentarily. There’s a stretch for sure and it’s borderline painful but he also feels really fucking good and you need more of it. You know you can take him further and that the more you take, the better it's going to feel and your body will adjust until it’s only pleasure you’re feeling.

“More, I can take more!” you plead.

“God Damn baby, didn’t I tell you one day you’d be begging me to fuck this tight little asshole” he grins as he pushes in further still until he’s about halfway and begins to give you shallow little thrusts.

“Oh yeah, take it, just like that. Fuck,” he curses, hands going to your waist to grip at your hips.

You begin to whimper and whine and rock your hips into Dave while Marcus continues to tease your clit and everything feels so good everywhere you don’t know where to look or who to cry out to so you just close your eyes instead and let your body absorb all the pleasure it’s receiving. Your mouth goes back to Marcus, sloppily sucking and sliding him down your throat as he helps by rutting his hips into you, knowing whatever ounce of concentration you did have was gone out the window the moment Dave sunk his cock inside you.

“Oh god you’re so fucking good, my beautiful girl” Dave groans, sliding in further still and your brain, as fucked out as it may be in this moment, doesn’t fail to notice the new little endearment that’s slipped from him.

Whore? Slut? Baby? Sure. But.. Beautiful girl? My beautiful girl? No, that was definitely new.

He keeps up his steady pace, rocking into you and sliding in just a little further each time until he’s fully sheathed inside and can start fucking you in earnest now that you’re freely moaning and whimpering beneath him he knows there’s no more discomfort, only pleasure. He arches his spine, one hand on his own lower back to control the push of his hips and the other holds your hip as he slowly rocks in and out of you, holding back his own release by no small amount of effort while he waits for you to finally peak once more. You’re close, he knows. Have been for several minutes as your whole body writhes below him, fingers gripping at the bed sheets, leg muscles trembling and back arching to push your ass further against him, he sees how close to the edge you are on every inch of your body.

“Feels so good. Fuck, fuck, fuck” you cry out, mouth tearing off of Marcus once more as you attempt to look behind you. You're so close to finishing but trying to hold out as long as possible. Having both Marcus and Dave pleasuring you at the same time might be your favorite thing in the whole world. “Oh my god, keep going, please!”

“Yeah you love being so fucking full of me, don’t you?” Dave huffs.

“Mmmhmm” you bite your lip. “I love it. Love taking your big cock in my ass”

“Jesus fuck!” You hear Marcus groan above you and he takes himself in hand and gives a few hasty tugs.

“Yeah you're not the only one who fucking loves it" Dave laughs at how wrecked the younger mans become. “Suck his cock baby, want him to cum so I can fuck you properly and he can watch how good this tight little asshole swallows my whole goddamn cock”

"Oh fuck," Marcus groans as you take him back into your eager mouth. Your hand wraps around the base and strokes in time with your mouth as you slide up and down his length taking as much as of him as you can, sucking and licking and swallowing him down with renewed enthusiasm.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" Marcus whines, hand gently threading through your hair again as he continues to pump his hips. "Baby," he lets out as a final warning but you don't let off, just continue sucking him until he surges forward with a final groan and stills his hips as he lets go and you eagerly suck and lick every last drop from him, finally pulling off with a pop and a strangled breath leaving your lips from your effort.

"Oh my god," Marcus groans, sitting back on his heels. "Fucking incredible baby" he hums, hand leaving your hair to cup your cheek. Dave has stilled inside you, apparently needing a minute himself as his own impending orgasm looms threateningly.

"Turn over baby, get comfortable up at the top of the bed" Dave instructs next, slowly pulling out of you and you can feel every ridge and vein as he slowly drags his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss but obey, crawling up to the head of the bed and laying down on your back, head nestling into the pillows.

Finally Dave crawls up onto the bed himself, on his knees as he comes to settle between your legs, Marcus still sitting back on his heels next to him now.

"Still good?" Dave checks in, slowly smoothing his hands up and down your thighs.

"Mmm hmm," you nod your head eagerly, reaching out to place your hands on his forearms.

"Good" Dave gives you a little smile and then grabs at your calves, bringing your legs up to rest on his shoulders and then using his hand to line himself back up at your entrance. He pauses for a moment and reaches over to the earlier discarded bottle of lubricant and squeezes a few drops onto himself, coating his shaft liberally before tossing the bottle aside again. He pushes forward with one long forceful thrust, fully sheathing himself back into your used hole and a guttural moan escapes you when he fully bottoms out, his whole body leaned over you pressing your knees into your shoulders with how he has you practically folded in half.

"Shit" Dave growls and then presses further forward, lips capturing yours in a heated kiss and you both swallow each others moans. "Are you ready?" He asks, pulling back slightly and you nod your head. He pulls his hips back and then begins rocking into you. Slow, deep and hard thrusts in a steady rhythm that has your mouth falling open as you pant and gasp beneath him, hands gripping at his shoulders, elbows, the back of his head, whatever body part of his you can reach to grab hold of.

"God I love fucking you" he confesses in a breathy whisper, burying his face in your throat. "You're so goddamn perfect"

You whimper at his praise, hands burying in his hair as you hold him close and take every thrust he has to give you. His breath is coming out hard and fast against your throat as he loses himself fucking into you.

"Not... gonna last" he groans and brings a hand into the limited space between your bodies so he can rub your clit, desperate to get you over the edge before he falls over it himself.

"Oh, yes, right there" you whine as his deft fingers press deliciously into the perfect spot, pads of his fingers rotating in small precise circles with a steadying pressure and it's not long before you fall apart once more, a strangled sob leaving your throat.

"Good girl. Good fucking girl" He growls, removing his hand and giving a few more forceful thrusts before he pulls out of you, gets up on his knees and begins jerking his cock until ropes of his cum paint your stomach.

"Fuck," he groans, milking himself of every last drop, his free hand coming down to grip at your hip. You watch him above you as he falls apart, beautifully blissed out expression on his handsome face as his gaze locks onto yours, never faltering. "Oh my god you did so good" he praises, hand letting go of his spent dick and he wraps his arm around Marcus' shoulders next to him like he might fall over if he doesn't have something to hang onto. "Fuck she's amazing" Dave murmurs to Marcus, giving his far shoulder a squeeze.

“Let me get a towel” Marcus offers, pushing himself off the bed. He walks up to the head of the bed first and leans down to kiss your forehead before he heads off to the bathroom and you hear the water begin running.

"C'mere" you tell Dave, reaching your arms out to him and surprisingly he leans down into you so you can wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him down to rest on top of you. He pushes his hands underneath you, up your back to your shoulders between you and the mattress to hold you while keeping himself slightly propped up on his elbows now to keep from crushing you while he nuzzles into the side of your face.

“Are you okay Sweetheart?” He asks, a soft whisper against your ear, just wanting to make sure he wasn’t too rough with you.

You nod against him. “It was perfect, you were perfect” you praise him for once, pressing a kiss into his temple and then running a hand through his hair.

He hums into your skin and you continue to just hold him and stroke through his hair. He’s rightfully exhausted after what he just put you through and you’ve noticed he never really takes any time for himself afterwards. He always just puts his clothes back on and is out the door while his cum is still drying on whatever body part of yours he spilled it on so now while you’ve got him in your arms you want to keep him there for as long as he’ll allow it.

Neither of you have noticed either that the water had stopped running in the ensuite. Marcus stands at the doorway that joins the two rooms, leaning against it and just letting the two of you have your moment. He knows he’s particularly needy after he cums, demanding of your attention and needing to be wrapped up with you immediately after which tends to leave Dave to have no choice but push himself up out of the bed and leave the couple in love to have their private intimate moment. He supposes he’s never thought about it from either of your perspectives before or what you might want. He never pegged Dave for the warm and cuddly type but watching the two of you now he thinks maybe there’s a lot more to him than what’s just apparent on the surface.

At the end of the day Dave wasn’t just some whore you paid for a night to spice up your married life. He was your friend. A person with real feelings and emotions beyond just physical desires, presumably. Marcus had already begun to feel himself getting a little more attached to Dave with each time you all saw each other and it was obvious to him that you were growing attached as well. He doesn’t know what the feeling he has is when he’s around Dave. It’s not overtly sexual, though he won’t deny that it does come into play occasionally in the heat of the moment and he certainly doesn’t dislike it. It’s more of an affection, he supposes. He has affection for Dave. Cares for him, more than he knows simple ‘friends’ or work colleagues do for each other.

He watches a moment longer as the two of you lie in each other's embrace and joke and laugh in little whispers that Marcus’ ears can’t pick up and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. Maybe he should be jealous, because that’s normally him you’re doing that with while Dave is halfway down the driveway, but he’s not jealous. Seeing the two people he cares so much for being happy, simply put, it makes him happy.

He pushes off the doorframe and finally wanders into the room, two warm washcloths in his hands.

“Here,” he offers, standing next to the bed and Dave pushes himself up slightly off of you as you both turn towards Marcus.

Dave accepts the warm towel from Marcus and rolls off of you onto his back on the other side and gets to task of cleaning himself off while Marcus takes a seat down at the edge of the bed next to your hip and gently starts brushing the washcloth over your stomach, between your legs and pushing further back to clean up any of the leftover oily slick from the lubricant.

“You did so good baby” Marcus is grinning as he continues to carefully wipe the cloth around you.

“She did do good. Very good,” Dave adds, looking over at you and placing a hand on the top of your thigh and giving a gentle squeeze. “You been practicing without me?” He asks, referring to the toy he bought you that you had used a couple of times with him now.

You give a shy little nod of your head at his question and his eyebrows raise as he turns his gaze to Marcus.

“Not with me” Marcus pipes up innocently, raising his hands in the air and a hint of laughter in his tone.

“I may have just… worn it around the house a bit the last couple days while Marcus was at work, you know just doing housework and stuff” you admit shyly, shrugging your shoulders and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and Dave lets out a long groan, covering his face with his hands as he lets his head fall back into the pillows.

“Jesus you’re gonna get me fucking hard again”

“Mmm, maybe that was my plan all along” you begin teasingly, your own hand landing on his thigh and grabbing a handful of meaty flesh close enough to his groin that his hips jerk involuntarily. “Keep you here all night with us”

He laughs at that. “Babydoll you couldn’t handle me all night” he teases. “Wouldn’t be a hole of yours left that I didn’t ruin”

“Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time” you tease right back. “Besides, my gorgeous husband here knows just how to kiss me all better, don’t you baby?” You ask, eyes peering up at Marcus who’s still got an ear-to-ear smile on his face.

“Guilty as charged” Marcus sighs and then playfully sticks his tongue out at you.

Despite your little half-joking, half-serious comments Dave pushes himself up out of the bed and begins wandering the room and picking up all his scattered clothing and getting redressed and you ignore the way your heart drops a little bit in your chest that he has to go, though you know he needs to. That’s how this goes between the three of you.

You push yourself up into a seated position, knees up and hands wrapped around your legs as you rest your cheek on top of your knee watching Dave as he does up the final couple of buttons on his shirt until he’s looking no worse for the wear again.

“See you in two weeks then?” He asks casually, looking over to you and Marcus.

“Oh, actually it's her birthday in two weeks” Marcus mentions, a smile spreading at his lips. He always loved spoiling you on your birthday and you don’t doubt whatever surprise he has planned for you this year will be as good as every previous one.

“Oh, well, happy almost birthday then” Dave winks at you. “So in a month then” he shrugs and you have to actively stop your face from frowning.

A month?!

It made sense though. You knew now that Dave got his children every other weekend and with your busy weekday work lives the weekends made the most sense so that’s how the whole ‘every two weeks’ had started in the first place but with your birthday coming up you wouldn’t dream of asking Marcus to change any plans around to incorporate Dave into your weekend because knowing Marcus he would, even if did or didn’t want to. He’s likely had whatever he was going to do for your birthday planned for months, he always did, and you wouldn’t ask him to change that.

“Sounds good” Marcus confirms for you both and he stands up from the bed, leaving room so Dave can come over and say goodbye to you.

Dave crosses the room, brings a single finger down to your chin and lifts it up towards him then leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips and pulls away with a little wink.

“Get your rest now baby, you deserve it”

“Night Dave” you offer him a small smile and try not to let the disappointment show on your face.

“‘Till next time then?” He says to Marcus as they face each other halfway between the bed and the bedroom door.

“‘Till next time” Marcus nods and lands a hand on Dave’s shoulder and gives a quick squeeze before he releases him. “Do you mind just hitting the lock button on the keypad on your way out?”

“Yeah I got it” Dave nods. “Goodnight” he offers one final time with a quick wave of his hand towards the both of you then turns on his heel and he’s out the door, heavy footfalls echoing down the stairs.

Marcus makes his way over to you and you reach for him, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. "Will you take a bath with me, Husband?” You ask sweetly against his lips. Nearly all your muscles are sore after the vigorous sexcapades you just endured and you could use a good soak, not to mention a more thorough cleaning than just a washcloth between your legs from all the sweat and saliva and whatever remnants of any other fluids may be left behind on your body.

“Sounds like heaven, baby” he smiles warmly at you.

*****

The next morning you wake up to a text from Dave in your group chat checking in with you, asking if you're ok and how you're feeling this morning. You try to ignore the little flutter in your chest as you read over his words several more times than necessary, biting back the little smile that tugs at your lips while arousal begins to pool in your lower belly when memories from last night come flooding back to you. You decide you'll reply to him later when you can form a coherent thought. For now, you need to wake up your husband. Again.

This was a loooong chapter. Thanks for sticking with it to the end! By the way, let me know in a reply or a message if you're interested in more physical/sexual interaction between Dave and Marcus, or if you prefer it how it is now. I've been debating with this aspect of the story for a while but ultimately I'm writing it for you guys so... let me know what you want!

Taglist (if you want to be added, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse

Next Chapter

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Moving On - Dave York x F!Reader Chapter 8 of The Princess and The Duke.

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. 

Specific Warnings: Mentions of dick, mentions of sex toys, so much yearning, angst, step-cest, Mentions of poor parent-child relationship, parents touching sex toys without consent, mentions of childhood trauma(forgotten birthdays), food mention.

Big shout out to Hemmy (@angelofsmalldeath-codeine for writing this with me!)

Follow @vi-notifs for updates!

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[Read on AO3]

Wordcount: 7.2k

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you returned home from the disaster of a dinner with your mother. You’re still not fully over the semi-public dredging of the traumatic childhood that you’d endured. You’re reclined on Ash’s sofa; you caress her head in your lap as you watch reruns of Buffy when a text notification comes through. Your stomach flutters with excitement when you see who it’s from.

Duke🎷: Hey, Nancy will be out for a few hours tomorrow afternoon. She should be gone long enough for you to get all your things.

“Hey, Ash?” You ask as you look up from your phone to see Sarah Michelle Gellar stake someone.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

“Are you free tomorrow afternoon to move some stuff out from my room at Dave’s?”

“I can free up my calendar, no problem. Nancy going to be there?” Ash asks as she tilts her head back to look up at you.

“Nah, Dave’s said she’s out for a few hours.”

“Shame. Would have liked to give the bitch a piece of my mind,” Ash grins at you and you stick your tongue out at her.

“Very funny,” you playfully scold her, “Alright I’ll confirm it with Dave.”

You pull your phone back up.

Princess🌙: Sure, you going to be there?

Dave types for a while before the message comes through.

Duke🎷: Only if you want me to be.

Princess🌙: We could use the extra pair of hands. How early can we get there?

You want to tell him that you do want him there, that you want to see him. But you refrain, knowing better than to say something so bold. It doesn’t stop you from thinking it.

Duke🎷: 1pm if that’s ok with you? I’ll be there.

Princess🌙 : Perfect, see you then.

Your gaze lingers, hoping – maybe foolishly – that he’s going to send another message, keep the conversation going. You’re about to lock your phone and turn your attention back to the TV when you see the little grey dots shuddering to indicate Dave typing. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you don’t miss the way Ash rolls her eyes at you before grinning.

Duke🎷: You got everything you need for the new place?

Princess🌙: Sort of? I’m taking the bed from my room at yours, if that’s ok. Otherwise, it’s pretty sparse, I’ll have to make a trip to that big furniture mall up near Tech Ridge.Duke🎷: Of course, it’s yours. If you need anything else, just let me know.

Princess🌙: Sure, thanks, Dave. See you tomorrow!

Duke 🎷: Anytime, see you then.

“Jesus! You’re like a fucking teenager,” Ash scolds you playfully as she nudges your knee with her fist.

“Fuck you,” you grumble as you ruffle her hair, heat creeping up your neck as you know you can’t deny it.

You set your phone down with a smile, feeling the anticipation bubble up in your chest as you try to focus on the TV. But it’s no use, you can’t stop thinking about Dave, you haven’t been able to since the diner last night.

~*~

Monday

Dave smirks to himself as he watches Nancy on the right screen of his work computer. She’s leafing through the photos Resnik had dropped off an hour ago. Dave has a set of copies up on the left computer screen as he sips his morning coffee.

He hates seeing photos of himself, especially when he looks so flustered. He needs to work on his cardio. Most of his recent hits have been more complex cloak and dagger affairs. Smaller margins for error. Cardio has been the last thing on his mind, and the only working out he’s been doing has been for his mental health. Weight training is a far more satisfying outlet than jogging around the block aimlessly.

His discomfort is quickly dispelled as he watches Nancy swipe the photos off the kitchen counter. The sound is muted but it’s clear she’s screaming bloody murder into the empty home. There’s a poisoning thread of guilt surrounding the scene, he never wanted to see Nancy in pain. But the memory of the dinner party burns any pity away as she tirades around the space where she had humiliated you only days before.

Dave picks up his phone and texts Resnik to commend him on a job well done when he sees a text from you. He opens it immediately, turning off the remote feed of your mother wallowing in her self-pity.

Princess🌙: Hey, you still ok for today?

Duke🎷: Of course, all good on your end?

Princess🌙: Yeah, just checking in, thank you again for this.  

Duke🎷: Again, you don’t need to thank me, it’s the least I can do.

Princess🌙: Ok, well, see you at 1.

Duke🎷: See you then.

Dave watches as you start typing again, stopping for a few moments before starting up. It makes his stomach twist, like he’s waiting for something to happen. But you stop typing for good this time and he lets out a heavy breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

He loves that you’re talking again, even if it’s just about the logistics of moving your things out. It makes him check his phone at lightning speed at every news alert or email. Every time hoping it’s you, he doesn’t even know what you’d be texting about, other than the move. He knows that he’s kidding himself, you’ll soon be out of his life for good. Starting out on your own, finding someone more suitable, with less baggage.

But he lets himself live in the fantasy of it all for now.  he takes peace in knowing you’re safe and that you’ll soon be free of your mother and her bullshit.

~*~

You’re restless as you pull up to Dave’s house. You’ve caught Ash stealing glances at you the whole drive, but she hasn’t said anything. You’re nervous, something about returning to the house has you on edge. But there’s excitement there too, you’re going to see Dave.

Ever since you reconnected in the diner on Saturday, you’ve been consumed with thoughts of him. When he held you, it was like being home. He makes you feel safe and peaceful.

“We’re here,” Ash says as you shake yourself from your thoughts, “Did you order that truck?”

“What truck?” You look up and your mouth falls slack as you see the white box truck with two men in blue overalls hauling the king-sized mattress into the back of the truck. The logo of a local removal company visible on the side of the vehicle.

“Not me, Dave must’ve called them,” you say as you get out of the car. You look up at the house to see Dave waiting on the porch for you. He’s leaning against the railing, his hand raised in a casual greeting as he nods to you.

“He’s down so bad for you,” Ash teases as she rounds the car, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as she waves enthusiastically at Dave.

“Shut up,” you grumble as you nudge her side.

“Hey, Dave,” Ash shouts as she picks up the pace, practically jogging past you.

“Ashleigh,” he nods as he holds out a hand to shake, but Ash bats it away with her hand before throwing her arms around him.

Dave catches her with ease, despite her practically jumping at him. He steadies her before putting distance between them, holding her at arm’s length. You can’t help but smile at the sight as he shoots you a questioning look. You simply shrug, you have no clue what has gotten into her.

“You’re making your way into the good books, York,” Ash says as she squeezes his forearms. You watch as she says something under her breath to him before letting him go and barging into the house.

“What was that all about?” You ask as you reach the top step, trying not to show how nervous you are as you resist every urge to throw your arms around him like Ash just did. But you know that there’s no way you can risk such a PDA with the threat of the PI looming over you.

“She was grilling me about the truck,” Dave says as he looks you over, “How’re you doing?”

“I really appreciate you doing that,” you nod absently, “Things have been better,” you admit with a noncommittal grunt, “It’s good to see you though.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide as you try and think of a way to walk them back. But Dave beats you to it.

“It’s good to see you too,” his voice is low as he gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, “And I figured you’d struggle getting a whole king-size bed into that tiny thing.”

Dave gestures over your shoulder at the car and you wince at your lack of foresight. You turn back to see that the warmth has returned to his smile as he teases you gently. An echo of a time where things were simpler, easier.  

“We should probably head in,” you say as you look over your shoulder again, paranoia prickles under your skin. It’s become something of a habit since you found out about the Private Investigator. Even in the safety of Ash’s place, you feel like you’re being watched.

“Good idea,” Dave gestures for you to go in with one hand as he waves in the removal guys with the other, “I got them to pack up the bed and desk, as well as your PC and some other bulkier pieces of furniture,” he explains as he follows you into the house.

“That’s good of you, thank you so much,” you say over your shoulder as you ascend the stairs.

“I put your prop box under a throw in the living room, I’ll get it for you before you leave,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Didn’t want the movers nosing around in there.”

Your chest constricts with affection at his thoughtfulness, and you nod in affirmation.

“Thank you,” you repeat and the soft huff of amusement from Dave makes your skin tingle.

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I know, but you’re doing all this for me,” you say with a shrug as you hear Ash bustling around your old bedroom, “I just really appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Dave says as he hesitates at the bedroom door.

“What?”

“So, Ash,” he gestures to the door, “How much does she know?”

“Everything,” you say as you cringe back, expecting anger or aggression. But Dave simply nods, as if confirming his own suspicions.

“Ok, good to know,” he says as he places his palm flat on the door, “Shall we?”

You nod and he pushes the door fully open for you. You smile as Ash finishes assembling a cardboard box with a frustrated grunt. There’s a stack of flat-pack ones to her side. She exhales aggressively, blowing stray blonde hairs from her face as she looks at you both.

“About time, these things are a nightmare to put up.”

An hour goes by as the three of you pack up the rest of your belongings, all the while you and Dave share glances and smiles. With the last few boxes being packed up Ash picks up the first of them to take downstairs. You look around to see the surprising number of boxes piled up around you. You’re even more grateful for the box truck now you can see the sheer size of the move.

“Right, I’m going to start piling these downstairs for the movers to load up,” Ash says with a dramatic clap of her hands, “Besides, you two clearly need a moment alone.”

She gives you a knowing look as you see Dave shift uncomfortably as he seals up a box labelled “pillows”. You flip her the bird as she leaves, grinning at you over her shoulder as she kicks the door closed. The sound of Dave putting down the tape dispenser is loud in your ears before the room falls silent.

“She’s subtle,” Dave says as he turns to look at you, flopping down on the floor next to the box, “I like her.”

“That’s Ash for you,” you shrug as you mirror him, settling down on the floor as you realize standing around and packing up your whole life is quite strenuous. The room feels too big and far too small all at once. The echo of your voices is eerie as the air is so suddenly thick with tension.  

“How do I have so many pillows it requires a whole box?” You ask rhetorically as you try and fill the silence. You look anywhere but Dave’s face as you feel the desire to touch him build. You just want to bury yourself in his arms and never leave. You’re closer to him than you realized, only a few feet away. It feels like too far and not far enough all at once.

“You’d be surprised,” Dave says softly, “I think I filled three boxes with just records when I moved out of Carol’s place.”

“Records are cool, Dave,” you roll your eyes as you meet his gaze, but the moment you do you feel like you can’t breathe. Whatever you were going to say falls dead on your lips as you see the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes are glassy, his brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched, almost as if he’s in pain. But you know that look, it’s the look he gave you when you fell apart in his arms. It’s the look of restraint, holding himself back from crossing a line. Your fingers twitch as you start to reach for his hand, the temptation too heavy to resist. Just one touch, that’s all you need. Dave leans forward, his hand reaching for yours when the bedroom door swings open. You snatch your hand back and scramble to your feet.

“Alright,” Ash’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, “They’ve got almost everything else packed up, let’s get this room-,”

She freezes as she looks between Dave and you, clearly unprepared for the intensity of the moment she interrupted.

“Do you two need a minute? Because I can go back out there and-,”

“No,” Dave says abruptly as he gathers himself up off the floor, “I’m going to check that the movers have everything ready to go, I’ll see you both down there.”

Dave grabs the box he was packing before he exits swiftly. He doesn’t look back as he shuts the door behind him. You let out a shaky exhale as tears spring to your eyes. You wipe them away before Ash reaches you, but she holds you just the same. Her arms wrap around you, firm and strong as you let her hold you.

“I expected to walk in on the two of you dry humping on the floor,” she chuckles low in your ear, “Not caught in whatever that was.”

You shake your head and bury yourself in her shoulder.

“I love him, Ash,” you mutter as you cling to her.

“Poor bastard,” she jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, “But seriously, he’s nothing like anyone that came before, I like him for you.”

“Yeah?” You pull back as you sniffle, wiping the back of your sleeve over your lip, “Why’s that?”

Ash raises an eyebrow at you incredulously, as if you had to ask.

“He’s clearly into you for more than just sex, or a kink, or some twisted stepdad thing,” Ash says as if she’s telling you the sky is blue, “We do need to talk about how he knew where you were on your birthday, maybe not now,  cus that was weird and a bit stalker-y.”

“Not today,” you groan, and Ash puts her hands up defensively.

“I know, but that aside, he’s been looking out for you from the moment you landed back in Texas. The night with that douchebag Tristan, your birthday, Saturday night with your mom. No offense babe, but no pussy is worth all that effort. Especially when you’ve not fucked for what? Weeks? Months?”

“Too long,” you say as you can’t help but smile at Ash’s crass humour.

“Exactly,” Ash says with a triumphant smile, “I like him for you, he’d be good for you.”

“Y’know, that unfortunate stepdad thing aside,” you retort, and Ash shakes her head as she smiles at you.

“We could just kill her you know?”

“Ashleigh Mae!” You say with a dramatic gasp as you smirk at her.

“Just saying,” She holds her hands up in mock surrender, “I know a guy.”

“Whatever,” you say as you turn to the last few boxes needing to be filled, “Let’s get the rest of this shit packed up.”

“Yes, boss,” Ash gives you a mock salute before grabbing another box. You shake your head and gather the last few belongings into a final moving box labelled “Misc.”.

There’s a distinct lack of emotion as you head down to the kitchen, you thought moving out would have made you feel something. You set the box down and head into the living room where Dave is staring out of the window.

“Hey,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him.

“Oh, hey, you all ready to go?” He turns to you with a distant look on his face.

“Yeah, just getting that last box,” you say, gesturing to the grey fleece throw covering the box on the sofa. You recognize it as the one from Dave’s sofa downstairs.

“Of course,” he nods and folds his arms over his chest, his eyes dropping to his feet, “There’s something else I want to run by you.”

“Oh?” You look up from the covered box of props to meet his gaze.

“I’ve got a storage unit full of stuff Nancy wouldn’t let me have in the house,” he brings a hand up to rub his jaw, a nervous habit of his, “I was thinking seeing as you said you didn’t have much to furnish the new place, you could take a look and pick some stuff out? Consider it a late birthday gift.”

“Dave, you’ve already done so much for me, I don’t know if I could accept that,” you say as your heart aches at how much he’s willing to do for you.

“It’s all just sat there gathering dust, it’s a shame for it to go to waste when it could get some use.”

You mull it over for a moment, worst case scenario it’s a bunch of junk that you might get nothing from. Best case, you might not need to traipse up to the Furniture Mall on the weekend.

“Alright, I’ll take a look,” you smile as you pick up the box of props, “I’m keeping the throw, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Of course, wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll give the movers the details for the storage unit. I will text you the codes to enter/let me write down the codes” Dave nods as his smile reaches his eyes. You’re about to head out to the car when you remember one last thing you meant to ask.

“I know you’ve already done so much for me-,”

“I was thinking-,” Dave speaks at the same time as you and you both stop talking the moment you realise you’re cutting the other off. You can’t help but laugh as you wait for the other to start talking again.

“You go,” you say, eager to hear what Dave has to say.

“I hope this isn’t overstepping,” he starts again as he props his hands on his waist, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, “But I wanted you to know that, should you want it, I have someone I trust to install security measures on your new place. Would you be interested in something like that? I’ve just noticed how on edge you are, and with a PI sniffing around it seems like a good idea to deter any unwanted visitors.”

You feel your cheeks ache from how hard you’re smiling as Dave beat you to your own point.

“So, I was about to ask you for advice on who to call about that,” you admit, and you watch as relief washes over Dave’s face, “Because yeah, between the PI, and the prospect of living alone in a big city like Austin, I could use the extra peace of mind.”

“I’ll give him your number to get in touch and I’ll let him know to put it on my card.”

“Dave, you don’t have to-,”

“I couldn’t keep you safe in my own home, please, consider it me making it up to you.”

You consider it for a moment, a small voice in the back of your mind warns you about all the spending. But none of this is frivolous, it’s practical and a means to keep you safe. Most importantly, none of it feels transactional, he’s not doing this to buy you back. He’s protecting you.

“Ok,” you nod, convincing yourself as much as Dave, “Give him my number so we can set up the installation.”

“Excellent,” Dave says, and you stand there for a moment before realizing that this is it, there’s nothing left to say. You’ve got nothing more to stall with, you have to leave.

“Well, I guess this is it then,” you shuffle your feet nervously, “Can you get the truck to follow us to the storage place?”

“I’ll call them as soon as you leave.”

“Sure,” you say as you drum your fingers on the side of the box before you make yourself move, heading towards the door with regret and longing weighing down your movements. You get to the front door and put the box down, you can see Ash on the phone as she waves at you, “Hey, Dave?”

You step back from the door and turn to look at Dave again. His brow is raised in a silent question and your body moves before you can stop yourself. You take two long strides back into the house and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face in his t-shirt, hand fisting into the material covering his back as you breathe him in.

“Thank you.”

You breathe into his chest as you feel his broad arms wrap around you. He holds you tightly against him as he places a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. Another stolen moment, a risk you shouldn’t be taking.

“It’s ok, I got you.”

Dave whispers before giving you one last squeeze. His hold loosens and you don’t linger in his embrace, you know you’ve already pushed the limits. You step back with bleary eyes as you smile up at him before wiping away the tears.

“I’ll see you around,” you choke out before scooping up the box on the floor and practically jogging down the porch steps. You load up the box into the trunk of Ash’s car without a word before giving the movers the address to your new place.

“We’ll meet you at the storage place,” The driver says with a nod before getting into the cab.  

“Ready to go?” You turn to Ash as she leans on the roof of her car, giving you an imperceptible look.

“Yeah,” she says with a nod before ducking into the car. She’s holding something back, but you can’t quite figure out what.

“You ok?” You ask as you secure your seatbelt, “You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” Ash says as she pulls out into the street, “I’m just sad for you, for the both of you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, opting instead to set route to the storage unit on Ash’s phone before placing it back on the hands-free cradle. You don’t speak for the short drive. You’re too lost in your own thoughts to fill the silence. The moving truck follows you the whole way and once you’re booked it at the front desk you make your way to Dave’s storage unit.

Row after row of red roller shutters greet you, thousands of moments of people’s lives in stasis.

“These places always give me the creeps,” Ash says with a shudder as you get to the row where Dave’s unit is. You stroll down the numbered units, checking for 461 as you go.

“Yeah, it’s like a graveyard, rows and rows of dormant spaces.”

“Jesus,” Ash scoffs as she nudges you with her shoulder, “I was thinking more along the lines of where people hide their dirty secrets, or their drug money like in Breaking Bad.”

“I mean, those options aren’t exactly much better.”

“I’d much rather walk into this unit to find stacks of cash or his secret balloon fetish than dead bodies,” Ash says as you stop in front of the unit.

“Here’s to finding something less terrifying than a dead body,” you joke as you use the code lock to open it up.

The roller shutter opens with a rattle and a crash as the mechanism locks open. You fumble for the pull cord for the light. The bright fluorescent tube lighting blinds you for a moment before your eyes adjust.

There are metal racks lining the walls, with boxes of photo albums, books, and all manner of very personal items stacked up to the ceiling. In the middle of the room are larger items covered in sheets, the furniture Dave mentioned, you guess. There’s a whole rack devoted to records, and you watch Ash’s eyes light up as she sees them. She hurries over to the shelving unit and immediately pulls out a box labelled “The Stones”.

“Wow,” Ash lets out a low whistle as she steps into the tightly packed space, “Did he just pack his whole life up in here when he married your mom?”

“Seems that way,” you say absently as you notice a box filled with framed photographs, “It’s not like Nancy let him decorate his own home. You saw how sad and beige it was in there. All of this would have just been clutter to Nancy, and God forbid her man bring reminders of his life before, or his family into her home.”

You pull out the top one, almost without thinking. You see a younger Dave with a small, dark-haired girl on his shoulders, her tiny hands fisted in his hair as he smiles at the camera. A slightly older looking girl is hanging off his pant leg, caught in a fit of laughter as Dave has a hand on either child, steadying them both.

You’re not sure which one is which, but their names come to you immediately.

“Molly and Alice,” you whisper to yourself as you grip the frame in your hands, you wonder if it was Carol that took the photo. You’re surprised that you don’t feel any jealousy towards her. Instead, your mind immediately fills with the thought of having that life with Dave. Being the one behind the camera, capturing these moments of him and his girls. Being a part of those moments with him, a part of his life. A family.

You feel the shiver run down your spine as you refuse to admit to yourself that hope for that life with Dave has already taken root. It’s been festering inside you for some time but seeing him happy with his girls makes you face it. The need to have that life with him is all-consuming, threatening to swallow you whole. It’s too much for you to bear because you don’t know you’d be able to cope if it all came apart at the seams. Right now, you have to focus on you, on your life.

You put the frame down in haste and make yourself walk away, there’s a thick, tight feeling in your throat. You press on, moving to the covered furniture and pull the dust covers away to reveal a full-size record console. You recognize it mostly from film and TV, not having seen one in person before. The dark grey, mesh covered speakers the biggest giveaway, but you have no idea how it opens.

“Oh my fucking god,” Ash squeals at your elbow and you wince at the way your ears are ringing, “This is a Wrensilva!”

“A what?” You ask as you watch Ash run her hands over the wooden surface of the console, clearly looking for something.

“It’s only one of the best modern record consoles on the market, these things go for ten grand or more.”

Ash explains with an excited energy usually only reserved for Sarah Michelle Gellar, Taylor Swift, and women she’s dating. Her fingers find purchase on the wooden panel on top and the hinge moves soundlessly as she pushes the cover open.

“This is pristine,” She breathes as her hands ghost over the brushed aluminum dials and knobs, as if she’s afraid to touch it.

“Shame he never had the chance to use it,” you say with sadness as you remember the small tabletop turntable in Dave’s basement. A far cry from the opulent piece of art before you.

“Do you think we could play something?” Ash says, already rifling through boxes of records to find something to play.

“If you can find somewhere to plug it in, be my guest,” You shrug as you pull off some more dust sheets to reveal a hoard of expensive-looking furniture. Everything is lacquered wood, there’s a dining table and chairs that would be way too big in your new studio apartment. You eye up a mahogany wardrobe with beautiful glass doors that would fit well in your bedroom.

The final item you uncover is a beautiful wooden writing desk with a curved shutter. There are drawers on either side of the space where a chair would go, with intricate brass handles on all of them. You push up the wooden shutter to reveal the desk itself. It opens with ease, revealing small drawers and open spaces for letters and other small items along the top.

The flat surface has a leather mat inset into the wood, gold detailing in each corner. You run your fingertips over the smooth surface and imagine sitting at the desk with your laptop, pouring over legal notes and case briefs. There’s a perfect spot to put a desk lamp on the right.

You hear the needle drop, with the softest of scratches, and feel yourself take in a small breath as you wait for the music to start. The hauntingly beautiful sound of Nina Simone is crystal clear, and unbelievably rich through the bassy speakers. Clearly, Ash had found a power outlet. Feeling Good is one of your favorite songs, Ash knows this, and you smile as you look over your shoulder at her.

“Louis Armstrong, The California Ramblers,” Ash says approvingly as she saunters over to you, “Man has excellent taste.”

“I mean, have you seen me?” You scoff and Ash looks at you with a shocked expression, jaw hung open as she grins up at you.

“Are we doing this? Fully admitting you two are horny as fuck for one another?”

“After today, it’s more than a little obvious, don’t you think?” You say with a shrug, your lips pulled up into an unapologetic grin.

“Giiiiirl,” Ash squeals as she shakes her head in disbelief, “Ok but can we talk about those fucking grey sweatpants he wore today? I’m gay and I couldn’t help but fucking fixate.”

“Don’t,” you push on her shoulder as you feel your cheeks heat up, “I swear he wore them today to fucking torment me.”

“Is it as big as it looks?”

“Jesus Christ, Ash, for a lesbian you’re way too into dicks.”

“Women can have dicks too,” Ash points out and you roll your eyes.

“You’re way too into the dick of a cis man then,” you counter, and she just shrugs as she grins at you.

“You’re no fun,” Ash huffs, realizing you aren’t going to divest the size of Dave’s cock to her.

“It’s also fucking gorgeous,” you say as you head towards the door of the unit, not so much as looking at Ash as you go. The movers are waiting for you outside and you quickly tell them which pieces to take out to the truck.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Ash groans as she scrambles after you, “Could we at least go dildo shopping so you can point out an adequate substitute?”

“You’re so fucking gross,” you laugh as you turn off the console, putting the record back in its sleeve before unplugging it. Ash replaces the lid of the console and paws at it balefully, like a lovesick puppy.

“That’s not a no,” Ash wiggles her eyebrows at you as you put the boxes back on the shelving units.

“Only if you buy me one too, Nancy ruined my favorite one by fondling it before covering it in mashed potatoes.”

“No, not Vibro Vibescal?!”

“The very same,” You say solemnly as you make your way back to the door of the storage unit, “No way could I bring myself to put him inside me after that, food and pussies just don’t mix.”

“And no-one wants their moms touching their toys.”

“Ugh don’t,” you groan as you lean against the exterior wall, you’re so ready to get home and start unpacking.

“So, what will you call the new one?” Ash asks as she rests her head on your shoulder, snaking an arm around your waist.

“I dunno,” you muse, “Maybe Hole Filler?”

“I don’t get it,” Ash says, and you can hear the pout in her tone as you watch the movers grab the writing desk. The last item.

“Like Joel Miller, from The Last of Us?”

“Too far a walk to get to the punch line,” Ash grumbles as she tries to think of something else.

“We good to go?” You hail one of the movers as he passes you both.

“All set, just checking, this the address?” The man asks as he holds out his phone, the address already inputted on the Maps app.

“That’s the one,” you nod and start locking up the unit.

“See you there, ma’am.”

You smile to yourself at the honorific. The moment you’re happy everything is set up you loop your arm through Ash’s own. You stroll back to the car, your heart a little heavier.  You try not to dwell on the way you can’t stop thinking about the photo of Dave and his girls.

~*~

You unlock the front door to your open plan apartment with a jingle of keys and hurried movements. The second-floor apartment is exactly as you remembered it. Dark hardwood floors, high ceilings with arched windows. The walls are a soft blue, bare, but for a few framed posters the last occupant left. You make a mental note to take them down. You head through the main living space, beckoning Ash to come inside.

“Shit, how much is this costing you?” Ash says as she steps in behind you.

“Not as much as you’d think. Two people died in the bedroom; the rental company couldn’t shift the place. Apparently, it was big news a year ago?”

“People died in here?” Ash whispers.

“Ash, people die in homes all the time,” you sigh as you watch the movers pile the furniture into the middle of the room, “I’m much more afraid of the living.”

“But like,” Ash looks around the open space with wide eyes, “Isn’t it weird?”

“All I care about is that it’s almost half as cheap as anything else for rent in this part of Austin,” you shrug, dead people can’t hurt you.

“You’re far braver than me,” Ash says with a shudder, “I couldn’t live in an apartment that has ghosts.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, Ash,” you laugh as the movers start to bring up the furniture.

“Where do you want us to set things up?” The lead mover asks as he wipes his brow.

“It’s fine, I’ll sort it,” you say with a wave of your hand, not wanting to pay extra to have them set up the bed and other items.

“Mr York pre-paid for the service, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Alright,” you nod, your heart fluttering at Dave’s thoughtfulness.

You instruct the movers to set up the bed in the other room, the only space that isn’t open plan. Then they set up the chairs and desk in the main room, the desk sits beautifully under the main window, looking out into the city below. They stack the moving boxes in your bedroom.

The moment the movers are gone you head back down to Ash’s car to get your prop box. You expect Ash to come back up with you, but she shakes her head.

“I’ve gotta catch up on work, but we’ll do something this weekend yeah? Maybe throw a housewarming? Invite Peter?”

“Sounds good,” you say as you pull her into a firm half-hug as you balance the prop box on your hip, “Thank you so much for today.”

“Anytime,” she tilts her head at you with a smile, “But please, don’t get murdered by your ghosts.”

“I promise,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you hold your hand over your heart. She sighs at your lack of sincerity before getting into her car. You wave her off as she leaves, only heading back up to your apartment after she disappears from view. You reach the top step, about to enter the main building when you feel the prickle of uncertainty under your skin. You look over your shoulder, scanning the street for anything out of place. But there’s nothing there, just the typical bustle of people going about their business. There aren’t any obvious signs of a PI, but you feel unease as you slip inside.

You lock your door behind you, already eager for Dave to get his security contractor in to set up the alarm and cameras. You set your prop box down on your bed before you start unpacking the rest of your clothes and bedding. The wardrobe just about fits all your clothes, but you make a note on your phone to plan a trip to IKEA at some point for a chest of drawers for the rest of your clothes. You think of anything you need for the kitchen, cutlery, plates, all that mundane stuff.

You set your laptop up on the writing desk and pull over one of the wingback chairs, it’s too low to really use the desk comfortably but it’ll do for now.  Your dual monitors and PC tower won’t fit on this. Another thing to add to the list, a computer desk for your room as you’d left the old one at Nancy’s. But the writing desk is perfect for studying, with ample room for a laptop and books as well as a lamp. Another thing to add to the list.

“Fuck,” you huff to yourself as you realize that the small – if expensive – offering of Dave’s furnishings certainly made a dent in what you need, but your new place was far from complete. You order pizza before taking a long shower, the water pressure is delightful. You pad back out into the bedroom in just a towel, grateful for the generous adjoining bathroom, and pull the throw off the prop box.

You hold the fabric to your nose, inhaling the sweet scent of home, of Dave. It’s faint, but it still fills you with a rush and you think about that morning you woke up in Dave’s arms. The way his lips brushed against yours in the haze of waking. The first real moment that you crossed a line echo in your mind as you feel nothing but euphoria as you press your face into the fleecy fabric.

You throw the blanket over your shoulders as you open the box. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you see the olive-green hoodie and “USMC” logo front and center in the box. You drop your towel and pull the oversized garment on. You groan audibly at the smell of Dave’s bodywash, and his natural scent that you never can truly place as you pull it over your head. It’s like a hit of adrenaline spiking through you, it makes you bold.  

You find a pair of leggings to pull on before grabbing your phone. You dial Dave’s number, heading over to the loveseat in the middle of the apartment. You flop down and to your dismay he doesn’t pick up. You glance at the time and realize it’s almost ten, a little late for a call. You open up Instagram to scroll when the call comes in.

“Everything ok?” There’s an urgency in Dave’s voice that makes your stomach flutter.

“Everything’s great just finished unpacking,” you say as you try not to whine at his voice in your ear, “Thank you, Dave. I know I keep saying it. But really, I can’t express how much all this means to me.”

“Like I said, think of it as a late birthday present.”

“This is a bit much for one birthday,” you argue, both of you are stalling again, neither wanting to hang up.

“I think you’ve had more than enough shitty birthdays to warrant being spoiled this time around.”

You don’t know what to say, because he’s not wrong. This is the most you’ve been spoiled in your life, not that the bar is all that high. But it’s nice to be seen, to have someone acknowledge it and try and make amends. Even if it isn’t his responsibility. But that’s probably why it means so much more to you.

“I found the hoodie,” you say as you bite your lip, all you can smell is Dave.

“I hope you didn’t mind me putting it in there,” he says, his voice lower now, almost a purr in your ear, “I always thought it looked better on you.”

“It feels like home.”

You know you’re being too forward, but you miss him, you wish he was here. But you can’t say any of that out loud, but you need to say something.

“You’re a good man, Dave,” you say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“I try,” he says, and you hear something low, sorrowful in his voice as he speaks, “Anything you need, you know where I am.”

“I do, see you around, Dave.”

“Bye, Princess,” The nickname makes your heart flutter, and you hear a grunt of discomfort on the other line as Dave realizes what he’s said, “I-, I didn’t mean-,”

“See you around, Duke.”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything more, astonished at your own boldness. You squeal to yourself like you’re a teenager again, drifting dangerously close to outwardly flirting with him.

But the thing that is clear to you now, if you ever really had any doubts about how Dave felt have dissipated.  

He feels the same way, whatever it is you have, no matter how irresponsible it is, it’s mutual.

Follow @vi-notifs for updates!

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[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series summary- Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, angst,fluff,(m) masturbation,talks of loss of a parent and spouse, kissing,lots of music references, PTSD,slow burn

WK-7.9k

A/N- If I knew what was going to happen with Dave and Frankie I’d tell you but I don’t yet. Santi and Alicia (that’s all I’m going to say). Reader has some tough decisions to make.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter IV

You were starting to worry that Dave hadn’t contacted you since your lunch date. He didn’t really owe you anything. As much work as you’ve done on yourself you can’t quell those thoughts that run wild. What had you done wrong? He seemed genuinely interested in you, but maybe you were reading too much into things. 

  Your shirt clings to your sweaty skin, another unbearable hot and humid Florida day. The only difference is the store ac went out again and the repair man won’t be able to come in for a few days. 

Your current predicament is the only distraction from your own mind threatening to drive you crazy. 

  You contemplate closing the store for the day as you stare up at the poor excuse for a ceiling fan. Slowly whirling the warm tepid air amongst the room. The sound of the soft crackle of the speaker can be heard signaling the record is done but the back of the store might as well be a mile away. 

  Your phone buzzes and you glance down seeing Dave’s name on the Lock Screen. Part of you wants to ignore it but you told yourself you would work on not getting upset over trivial things. 

  “Hello.”

  “Hi hummingbird.” He sounds a little distressed and you prepare yourself for the let down. “I’m sorry I haven’t called…or texted.”

  “Mmm.” 

  “There was an emergency and I had to go home. I know that’s no excuse but I want you to know that I’m sorry and I’d like to see you again when I get back.” It’s all rushed out like he’s out of breath but he sounds sincere. 

  You were honestly expecting him to ignore you and the apology is something foreign to you. Taking accountability is admirable….but. 

  “Did Mrs. Dave need you home with the kids?” You hate the bitterness in your tone but the heat and your emotions are running high. 

  He sighs deep on the other end. “I know you have no reason to believe me. I’m not married and there’s no one waiting for me at home.” As much as it hurts to say out loud it’s the truth. “My last name is York by the way.”

  “I’m sorry.” You let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t mean to be so crass. I really like you and that scares me because I know next to nothing about you.” 

  “If you give me a chance I promise I’ll tell you everything.” You can sense the desperation in his voice. “I actually have something planned for you if you’d like to spend some time with me tomorrow night?” 

  It’s sweet that he’s already thought of you. You really want to see him again and you know Alicia will be busy with Santiago anyway. You hope what you’re feeling are the good kind of butterflies at the prospect of spending more time with him. 

  “Okay…I like surprises.” Your voice perks up a little at the end. 

  “Great, I’ll meet you at the store at 7. It’s not a far walk from there.” 

  You’re curious and excited as to where you’re going. You find yourself nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you wait for one of you to hang up. 

  “I’m gonna hang up first so we don’t end up doing the thing.” You hear him chuckle on the other end with a faint ‘bye hummingbird’ before you end the call. 

  ****

  Frankie has had a day to calm down and clear his head. He decided against Santiago being his lookout for Dave. He wanted to have this experience all on his own without the threat of an altercation or further involving Santi who is now majorly distracted. 

  Santi and his connections called in an anonymous tip about Dave’s house being compromised which will surely put him out of commission for a few days. 

  Plenty of time for Frankie to swoop in and have you forget all about Dave. 

  It’s really so simple…he just needs to tell you who he is, how he met Dave and leave the ball in your court. Things aren’t ever really that simple. 

  It stings a little as he exits route forty one and sees the ‘Welcome to Naples’ sign. You were right under his nose but you might as well have been on the other side of the world. What were the odds that he’d ever find himself here let alone walking into the place you worked. One in a million he thinks. 

  He cranks up the ac in his Jeep as if that’s going to quell the heat trying to penetrate his skin through the windows. He probably should’ve done his hair instead of wearing his hat but now his sweat soaked curls are trapped underneath. 

  He subconsciously brushes his thumb along the roses where his ring used to be as he sits on the street where you work. His fingers tapping some song that’s been stuck in his head against the steering wheel as he practices what he’s going to say to you. 

  Fuck it just go

  The sun beats down on him as he slams the door to his Jeep and crosses the cobblestone street. He takes a few deep breaths not quite the way his therapist instructed but close enough as the window with the plants comes into view. 

  He had a plan to peruse the store if you were busy with other customers. He had a general outline of how he would approach you if you were alone in the store. He was however not prepared for the sight of you standing at the window as you flipped the closed sign. 

  ****

  You can’t take this anymore, it’s too hot and no one has come in for hours. Your boss can shove it for all you care. He can’t even be bothered to check in once a month. Closing up shop and going to the beach with Alicia sounds like a much better way to spend your afternoon. 

  You peel yourself off the chair at the front desk and grab your purse. As you flip the closed sign on the window you lock eyes with a rather handsome and distressed looking man. 

  He looks like he’s seen a ghost as he scrubs his hand behind his neck nervously. You’re not sure when the record store became a beacon for hot middle aged men but today was certainly not the day to entertain anymore. You hastily fix your hair and smooth out your shirt, while trying to put on your brightest smile. 

  “I’m sorry, we’re closing early. The ac is on the fritz and I just can’t sit here anymore.” You’re not sure he heard you as you wait for him to respond. “If you…want to come back tomorrow I can set something aside for you?” 

  “You’re so beautiful.” He says like he’s in awe as you give him an inquisitive look. 

  “I think we have that one,it’s just not available as a single. You’d have to buy the album.” He laughs as he realizes what he’s just said out loud. 

  “I ugh…sorry. I meant…never mind.” Fuck he’s totally bombing this. “You know I can take a look at it if you want. I’m pretty good with my hands.” That sounds worse than he intended but he can’t stop the words before they leave his mouth. 

  You glance over your shoulder at the empty store as you bite your lip. 

  He seems to notice your apprehension. “I’m not a creep or anything.” He takes off his hat running his fingers through his gorgeous curls. 

  “Hmmm, that sounds like something a creep would say.” You grin at him and lean back against the door signaling for him to come in. “I would appreciate it honestly, I have no idea when they’ll be able to come take a look. Then I’ll have to wait for approval to have it fixed and it’s just a whole thing.” You stop your incessant rambling when you see him taking in the surroundings. 

  His hands are on his hips as he stares at the posters on the wall. He’s broad and his shirt stretches taught along his back. He rolls his shoulders and turns to see you still standing in the doorway gawking. 

  Now who’s being a creep

  You clear your throat and fix your face to a neutral expression as you gesture for him to follow you toward the back. 

  Goosebumps trail along your arms as you walk in front of him, it’s assuredly not cold enough to cause such a sensation. His cologne and sweat is flooding your senses… perhaps you’re ovulating or something similar to desperation. 

  “You’re gonna have to talk handyman, I can’t stand the silence.” You tease as you peer at him over your shoulder. “Or maybe I can put some music on. What’s your preference?” 

  He tries not to focus on the way your hips sway when you walk and of course any music he’s ever listened to has left his brain entirely. 

  “Queen.” He blurts out and you laugh. It’s so disarming he relaxes his shoulders a bit. The letters of the cities are hard to make out on the back of your shirt but he can tell it’s Queen from the design. 

  “You cheated handyman.” Your voice drops to a flirtatious tone that he can’t ignore. You lift the dust cover and place a gently used record into a sleeve of The Essential Mozart.

  He leans on the table next to you, so close his breath ghosts over your neck. “So you're a classical gal.” 

  You snort as you raise your eyebrows. “No one’s ever called me a gal. And yes I enjoy the occasional Mozart, Debussy, Bach—.”

  “Okay now you’re just showing off.” You notice the dimple in his cheek when he says it and the way his arms look as he fold them across his chest. 

  “I’ve gotta put this useless music degree to some use.” You absentmindedly thrum through the records on the display until you find the one you want. “ aha…Queens greatest hits.” 

  He scoffs as he takes it from your hands. “I would hardly say it’s useless by the collection in your store.” He flips it over and gives you a questionable look. “And I would hardly call these the greatest hits.” 

  You snatch it back as you narrow your eyes. “Not my store. Although I’ve dreamt of running my own.” 

  Noted 

  A momentary glossy expression crosses your face as you carefully place it on the cloth. He watches as you delicately handle each piece like you’re plating a five star meal. You gingerly place the stylus on the edge as he hears the  familiar sound of record buzzing just before the music starts. 

  Is this the real life?

Is it just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide no escape from reality 

  You turn to him, arms crossed mirroring his stance as you lean into the table. A bead of sweat glides down your neck as he follows it to the v in your top before his eyes meet you again. 

  Open your eyes

Look up to the skies and see

  He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, I stand corrected. But you have to admit there’s a few questionable picks here.” 

  You brush past him and he gets a whiff of something strawberry, maybe your shampoo. “I’ll admit it when you fix my ac handyman.” You wink and he’s no longer disguising that he’s checking you out because you’ve been shamelessly checking him out since he stepped foot inside. 

  He follows you into a small stock room, mostly empty boxes and a shelving rack with old paint and a few picture frames. He can see the old unit in the corner as you bend over to open the side panel. Fuck. You’re making it very hard for him to keep his mind in an appropriate place as you stand and wipe your hands along the back of your jeans. 

  “I’ll be honest, I have no idea what I’m looking at. I’ll get out of your way.” It’s too small in here as you awkwardly maneuver past him and he brushes against you murmuring apologies as you hold your breath. 

  He somehow already found a flashlight amongst the odds and ends on the shelf as he crouches down to take a look inside. You watch the way his shirt lifts up slightly revealing a small sliver of skin on his back. 

  “Now who’s being quiet.” His muffled voice comes from inside the unit. 

  “I just didn’t want to be a distraction while you’re working.” You hear an uncomfortable grunt as he sits back on his heels. He smirks at your stance as you lean casually on the wall with a perfect view of his ass. 

  “Mhm I’m sure…” He turns his hat around and it somehow gets impossibly hotter. “Listen, you can distract me all you want if you happen to have a screwdriver?” 

  You chew on your lip as you think and then start rummaging through the shelves when you find one amongst an abandoned project. 

  “Will this work?” You hand him a flat head and he looks particularly pleased as he takes it from you. 

  “This is somehow exactly what I need.” He resumes his work and you wince as you hear some questionable noises coming from within. “There’s just some ice build up on the evaporator coils.” His voice raises a little so you can hear him over the sounds of ice chipping from metal. 

  “Whatever you say handyman.” You pull out your phone to check the latest text from Alicia. You’ve been giving her subtle updates just in case he decided to turn into a weirdo. 

  “Francisco.” He says as your finger hovers over the send button of your last text. You watch him rise and lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. 

  You’re staring at the way his soft belly dips into the front of his jeans. You wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers along the seam of his boxers. 

  “Breaker?” The corners of his lip curl up into a smile as he catches you mid thought. “I need to see if this worked.” 

  “Sure ya…right over here.” You stammer out as you point him to the small box on the wall. 

  He flips a few switches and the sound you make when the air comes out of the vents is bordering on sinful. 

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You’re ecstatic and he’s got that satisfied look on his face with just a tinge of pride. 

  It’s a flicker of a moment as he hands the screwdriver back to you. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest when you see it. 

Distinctly your hummingbird tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. There’s no way he can’t know. Things were too easy with him, it’s almost laughable that it feels just like they said it would. 

  You turn to leave and stumble searching for the door handle, he pulls you back just as you're about to faceplant. “Slow down there. I can’t fix you if you break.” His voice in your ear and his hands on your waist…it’s all too much. 

  “Sorry I’m a little clumsy at times.” You grip the handle with an unsteady hand as you step out into the hallway. “There is a bathroom at the end of the hall if you need to wash up.” He offers a polite thanks as he takes in the concerned look on your face. 

  ****

  He stares at his reflection in the small bathroom mirror wondering where he went wrong. Everything was going so well. It was almost too easy. Maybe he was coming on too strong. He takes off his hat and splashes some water on his face. He’s looked better, but he’s definitely looked worse. 

  Get it together Morales

  He sees you when he returns seated in the lounge chair. The music has stopped and your foot is nervously tapping on the floor as you finish texting and place your phone face down on the table. 

  Your face is expressionless as you look up at him. “Have a seat please.” 

  He’s trying to think of something to say but he’s lost for words. 

  You cautiously grab his hand as he sits in the chair next to you. “Can I see?” He nods and holds his breath as you turn his arm over. Goosebumps raise on his skin as your soft hands trace the patterns of the wings on his forearm. Your breathing hitches as a small jolt of electricity runs through his veins. 

  He notices the roses on your ring finger. Roses meant for someone else, yet they look so perfect on you. Like they were destined to be yours.

  “Why roses?” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

  He clears his throat and shifts in the chair. “They were my ex-wife's idea. I didn’t dislike them.” He sees your shoulders drop a little at the confession. 

“Why a hummingbird?” 

  He sees you smile then, while he waits for your answer. “My mom…she always said I had endless amounts of energy.” You tilt your head and point to his other arm. “What’s with the hawk?”

  He tenses a little and his fingers flex in your hand. “Sorry, if this is too much.” 

  “Don’t be.” He quickly interjects “I’ve wanted to know for so long…everything about you.” 

  “I don’t even know who you are.” You try to keep your voice steady as he stares at you with those deep brown eyes. “You don’t even know my name.” 

  You tell him then…he has to pretend it’s a name he hasn’t heard before. 

  How does he even begin to tell you? Telling you about Dave would ruin everything. 

  You stand from the chair before he has a chance to start. “Do you maybe want to talk about this over some drinks? I owe you at least for fixing the ac.” 

   He relaxes at that as the air of flirtatiousness returns to the room. “If you think I’m letting you pay you are sadly mistaken.” 

  In the few brief seconds you had to yourself, Alicia practically screamed at you to go for it. Her tone let on that she may know more than you think but you shelved that for the moment and decided to be spontaneous. 

  You hold your hand out. “Let's go handyman.” 

  He snickers under his breath. “How long are you going to keep calling me that?” 

  Your hand in his feels right as it should, when you lead him to the front of the store. Dropping it briefly to grab your purse and keys to lock up. 

  “I doubt Francisco is your real name, so we’ll see.” 

  ****

  After the initial shock wore off of learning that Santiago was the one who tipped him off to you, you settled into the idea of how nervous he must have been to approach you. 

  You’ve got a crash course over the last hour in Francisco Morales. He prefers Frankie and you think that suits him better. He was a helicopter pilot in the military but now he flies commercially. His apprehension when you first mentioned the Blackhawk tattoo was something he wasn’t sure he was ready to address with you. 

  The way you listened so intently to his story of how proud he was when he first joined, he left out some of the more gruesome details of his time in the service. When he retired he wanted to commemorate it somehow and you were the one that ultimately helped him with his decision. 

  Your hummingbird was your first tattoo, your mom actually let you get it when you were seventeen. It was one of the last things you did with her before she passed. Frankie wanted to match. The guys gave him shit for it but seeing the way your eyes lit up when he told you made it all worth it. The whole ‘birds of a feather’ sealed the deal. 

  This isn’t quite how Frankie thought he would be spending his afternoon. He followed you out the store as you confidently led him to one of your favorite spots along the beach. A small bungalow bar overlooking the shore. Despite you having told him you weren’t from here, you seem to be a regular. The older red haired waitress Trudy gestures to your usual spot that's open and sends a wink your way. 

  You ran through all of the stereotypical questions, favorite color, favorite movie, favorite food. Hobbies, dreams and aspirations. He didn’t laugh when you mentioned you were afraid of the dark. You didn’t laugh when he said he was afraid of the rain.

  You talked about your dream of owning your own music store, getting to curate things to your liking. Much like you did at your current job…but it didn’t belong to you. 

  Frankie didn’t necessarily give off rich guy vibes but he let on that money was no longer an issue. He recently became part owner of the company he currently flies for. 

  It’s so easy, like long lost friends catching up. The way you listen so intently as you rest your head on your hand. He catches you often looking out into the water like you’re waiting for something. 

  Maybe he’s trying to make up for lost time or perhaps he wants all his cards on the table in case you determine that his baggage is too much. You don’t really think it’s baggage when he tells you that he’s in recovery and his ex wife left him for her soulmate. He’s been putting in the work to better himself, and if she hadn’t left you would’ve never met him. 

  In between the plate of shared nachos and beers the conversation shifts to you. You decide since he’s shared such intimate details about his life that it’s only fair you return the favor. You tell him about your mom…the reason you believed in soulmates in the first place. Your mom and dad, highschool sweethearts. Somehow destined to spend the rest of their lives together. When she got sick it all happened so fast, too fast for you to come to terms with the fact that your dad had already moved on. 

  The idea of soulmates left a sour taste in your mouth after you moved out of your dad and step moms home to go to college. It’s why you think you were so inclined to not find yours. People fell in love everyday and lived happily ever after without theirs. 

  You and Frankie’s stories are so similar in some ways. 

  You signal for the bartender to bring you another round before you tell the rest of your story. A comfortable buzz runs through your veins as your foot brushes the inside of his calf under the table. 

  You gasp as he grabs your ankle and places it in his lap. “Ticklish?” You shake your head as he raises an eyebrow at you. His fingers trace the gun tattoo and your body betrays you as you nearly kick him in his stomach. “The jury's out, maybe I should keep testing.” 

  “No please.” You giggle and his hands travel further but stop just before the crook of your knee before he gently sets it back down. 

  “So…what kind of gun is that?” You ask cautiously as you tilt your leg to the side. 

  He sighs deep. “It’s an M sixteen…it was a dare.” He hangs his head a little, knowing how that must look on someone like you. 

  “Oh right of course.” You say sarcastically as Trudy drops your drinks off at the table. 

  “Can I get you two lovebirds anything else?” She clicks her pen to the pad as you both lock eyes and burst into laughter.

  “No Trudy, we're fine, thanks.” She sends you a mischievous smile as she tends to the other patrons. 

  His eyes widen as you take a rather large sip of your drink. He can tell you have something to say so he waits patiently as he takes you all in. The way you squint your eyes when you’re thinking, the way you tap your foot when you're nervous. How bright your smile is and how everyone you seem to cross paths with has a special connection with you. It’s why he’s not prepared when you tell him about your ex. 

  “The gun was the last straw.” You trace the lines of condensation on your glass. “He couldn’t take anymore reminders that I wasn’t his.” 

  “You don’t belong to anyone.” His voice is stern as he takes your hand. “I would say sorry but…it’s his loss.” He gently presses his lips to your fingers and you have to fight to keep yourself calm. 

  “Ya…hers too.” 

  You squeeze his hand as you take in a sharp breath. He sees it then, the thing you were waiting for. As the sun sets through the palm trees and the yellow bleeds into red and orange. It’s a task not to watch you instead of the aquamarine water and the gentle waves kissing the shore. 

  Something so simple, that so many people take for granted and he thinks this may be the most perfect day he’s ever had. 

  Without second guessing himself he leans in close. “It feels wrong if I don’t kiss you right now.” 

  Your face is mere inches from his and you’d be a fool not to admit that you wanted to kiss him in the stock room earlier. “What are you waiting for?” 

  His lips are soft against yours, it’s like he’s breathing you in with each passing second. Your hand plays with the curls at the nape of his neck as he cradles your jaw. You don’t care if anyone’s watching right now because you’ve dreamt of this moment a thousand times. It’s electric, sending a shiver down your spine and he groans as you pull away biting his bottom lip. 

  Your forehead rests against his as you catch your breath. “I didn’t want to give anyone a free show.” 

  He chuckles and pecks your lips one last time. “We certainly wouldn’t want that.” 

  ****

  The walk home felt like you were floating. His hand in yours as he tugged you close. Stealing kisses whenever he could. The heat of the day was long forgotten as the gentle breeze rolled in with nightfall. It scared you a little how fast you fell into this domestic bliss with someone you just met. But isn’t that how it’s supposed to feel? Isn’t that why people are made for each other? 

  As you approached your apartment you could see from below the light was on, no doubt Alicia waiting up for you to hear all about Frankie. 

  “Well this is me.” You point up to the loft as you await the dreaded conversation that you’ve been wanting to avoid all afternoon. 

  He can sense your shift in mood as you rock back and forth on your feet. 

  “Frankie I…really want to see you again. I want to see where this goes.” You sigh as you look down at the pavement. 

  He grabs your hands in his as he steps into your space. “But?” 

  “But I met someone recently. I’m supposed to see him tomorrow.” You shrug as you look up at him. “I’m not the type of person to just abandon something, it’s not in my nature to be that cruel. I want to at least see it through, even if that means I’m letting him down easy.” His face is unreadable as you wait for his response. 

  He swallows thick trying not to let on that his blood is boiling. He can’t tell you who Dave is, he’s too far gone. 

  His hands drift from yours as they travel up your arms, your heart rate picks up and your eyes are wide with desire. His large hand cradles your face as he caresses your jaw. “Like I said…you don’t belong to anyone. You’re free to do what you want, all I ask is that you give me a chance. Do you think you can do that?” The way he asks you and the look in his eyes you would say yes to anything. 

  You nod your head in his hand as he licks his bottom lip, still tasting your chapstick from earlier. “I wouldn’t mind something to think about on my date.” 

  His eye twitches slightly at the word but he quickly recovers. “I was hoping you’d ask.” His lips meet yours again and the way your body fits against his is almost too much. Your hands grasp at the back of his shirt as he consumes you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as you feel the obvious bulge in his pants, a little overwhelmed at how quickly he’s got you falling to pieces. 

  “Get a room!” He inhales sharply as you laugh against his lips. Your laugh grows at his obvious confusion because of course you recognize the voice of your best friend. 

  “Ignore her please.” You half whisper as you kiss the small patch on his cheek where the hair is missing. “I don’t know how Santiago is gonna handle all that.” You gesture up towards the open window. 

  “Oh I’m sure he’ll find a way.” He pulls you into one last hug and reluctantly steps away. You have to distance yourself from him or you just might invite him up right now. “Don’t have too much fun tomorrow.” He says it in a teasing tone as he walks backwards, not wanting to tear his eyes from you. 

  “I’ll try.” You wave at him as you hear Alicia buzz you up to your apartment. 

  ****

  “How.could.you.keep.that.from.me.” You mercilessly hit your friend with a pillow as your crowd over her on her bed. 

  She laughs as she blocks your futile attempts at causing any permanent damage. “Once he told me it was too late to let you know.” She tilts her head feigning innocence. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so sure.” You huff as you roll over laying next to her. “I’m so fucked.”

  “Not yet.” She laughs and dodges your last blow with the pillow. “I’m just kidding. I’m glad we can finally go on some double dates…maybe tomorrow?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you playfully. 

  You sit up against her headboard as you tuck your legs beneath you suddenly feeling a little ashamed. “Well…I’m actually going out with Dave tomorrow. I told Frankie and he seemed to be okay with it.Now saying it out loud it sounds a little ridiculous and to be honest with you, I have no idea what I’m doing.” You facepalm as you throw your head back ending your rant. 

  She sits up next to you and gently pulls your hands down, giving you that look that only you know a friend would give. She knows your mind is running a million scenarios of what you should be doing and how you should be acting. Trying to be ten steps ahead of every situation so you don’t find yourself in the one that landed you here. 

  “Listen to me.” She rubs your hands softly grounding you. “You don’t have to figure it all out yet, you’re just going on a few dates. As long as you’re upfront with your intentions with them, and they agree, what more could they ask for?” She sees you staring off into space not quite grasping her words. “Babe, you just met Frankie.”

  “Ya and I let him stick his tongue down my throat. In public. Twice.” 

  “No one said you can’t have a little fun. And just so you know, I’m very jealous and very happy for you.” She nudges you slightly as you sink back under the covers. She rolls over to her bedside table and turns off the light. “I take it you’re sleeping here again.” 

  “Your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.” You whine as she laughs and gets under the covers. 

  It’s quiet for a moment as you think over everything you learned about Frankie. How fiercely he loved his friends. How passionate he was about his work. How he loved so deeply despite being hurt. How easily he opened up to you and how comfortable he made you feel. You trusted him with things you hadn’t told anyone but Alicia after just a few hours of knowing him. You also can’t stop thinking about his lips, and they felt against yours. How you fit perfectly in his hold like you were meant to be there. 

  The phone on her nightstand buzzes illuminating the dark room. She laughs as she stares at the text and sends a quick message back. You’re trying not to eavesdrop as you move your head on the pillow trying to make out some words. 

  “Santi says hi.” She says as she turns toward you with a smirk on her face. 

  “Oh…he’s Santi now? Well tell him I said hi.” You reply half in a whisper. 

  She clears her throat. “He also said you might need Frankie’s number if you want to see him again.” 

  You groan as you roll over realizing both of you forgot to exchange information in your haze of the whirlwind afternoon. 

  ****

  “How do I look Fish?” Santi holds his arms out with a stupid grin on his face. 

  “Like an asshole.” Frankie grumbles on the couch with his arms crossed in defiance. 

  “Look hermano it’s not my fault you didn’t tell her.” Santi grabs his keys from the table and Frankie looks on at him wide eyed. 

  “How is this not your fault? What was I supposed to say!”  He stands and Santi holds his hands up trying to calm his friend. “Oh hi…I’m your soulmate. I hired someone to find you for me. They did, and now you’re sort of daring them.” He rips his hat off aggressively, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.”

  Santi regards him cautiously. “Sorry Fish, I didn’t mean it like that.”

   Frankie sighs heavily through his nose as he plops back down. “I know Pope…I'm sorry. You like fine by the way, I hope you have a nice time.” He grits out the last part. 

  Santi punches him lightly in the shoulder “I know that was hard for you to say so I appreciate it. Plus you said so yourself she really likes you. Don’t think about it too much.”

  ****

  Easy for him to say. He was about to go on a date and Frankie was gonna sit here and try not to stew. 

You’ve consumed his thoughts over the last twenty four hours. He knew meeting you would be overwhelming but he did not anticipate falling head over heels, rom com, quintessential love at first sight, completely crazy for you. The thought of Dave being anywhere near the parts of you he wanted to explore made his blood boil. His mind ran wild last night with the scent of you still on his clothes. The way your body felt pressed against his, the way you said his name Francisco like some forbidden secret. 

  His hot shower ran cold as he stroked himself to thoughts of you. Imagining the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. The way your breast would feel on his bare chest as grind down on him. The soft moan that escapes you when he bit down on your lip and how you would sound if you didn’t have to be so quiet. 

  You awoke something in him he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

  He can’t think about it anymore sitting alone on Pope's couch half hard. He needs to go home and hope sleep comes easy tonight so he doesn’t have to think about the prospect of losing you before he’s even had a chance. 

  ****

  The last two hours have been chaotic to say the least. You both needed to get ready at the same time so of course the hot water ran out. Alicia blew a fuse in her bathroom trying to blow dry her hair so now she was in yours while you sat on the floor in her room in front of her floor length mirror doing your makeup. 

  Judging by the pile of clothes on her bed you don’t think she was planning on bringing Santi back to the apartment. Perhaps she wasn’t planning on returning either as you notice a small overnight bag placed next to her door. 

  She rushes into her room and grabs the bag before placing a kiss to the top of your head. “I gotta go hon, he said he’s coming up but I don’t want him to think I’m messy.” She wildly gestures to the state of her room as you meet her eyes in the mirror. 

  “He’s gonna have to figure it out at some point.” You state dryly as you finish your mascara. 

  “Not tonight though.” She fixes herself once more before addressing you. “Please try and have fun tonight. Call me if you need anything, you know I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” 

  “I got it Alicia.” You laugh as you wave her off. 

  “Oh and don’t wait up.” She yells out over her shoulder before slamming the front door. 

  You breathe a sigh of relief  that you’ll at least have a few moments to yourself before meeting Dave at the store. You loved your friend but you could tell her nervous energy was bleeding into your mood. So many emotions were running through your head. This would be your first real chance at getting to know him. You were giddy at the thought that he had a surprise planned for you. In the five years you spent with your ex he’s never once planned a surprise. It didn’t really bother you but it was just one of those things you assumed you would never get to experience. Looking back on it now you realize it’s a blessing in disguise that he broke up with you. You had put up with so much apathetic behavior that it became second nature to put yourself last. 

  Your phone pings on the floor beside you and you glance down to see Dave’s name. 

  Dave: Can’t wait to see you hummingbird 

  You sit for a moment trying to come up with a clever reply when another text comes in. 

  Frankie: I hope u have a nice time tonight 

  This can’t be your life right now.

                          can’t wait to see you too 🥰

  You double check that you sent that text to the correct person.

                   I promise I won’t have too much fun 😘

  There’s a feeling you can’t pinpoint at the moment. You’re not sure if it’s even right that you’re feeling this way. To be the object of two men’s affection is a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in. It would be a lie to say that you’re not riding this high. The end game however is something you haven’t quite worked out. 

  ****

  The sun is just starting to set as you make your way down the familiar street towards your work. Checking your reflection in every car parked alongside it like it’s somehow going to drastically change. He didn’t really give you very many details so you opted for a long black sundress and some strappy sandals. Your phone and lipgloss tucked neatly into the brown cross body purse Alicia got you for your birthday. 

  His back is to you when you see him, his hands in the pockets of his tight blue jeans. Almost sensing your presence he turns to you with that devilish smile on his face. He’s in front of you in a few brief steps, his woodsy cologne invading your senses and a hint of aftershave. The black short sleeve button up pulls taught along his biceps and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and grabbing him. 

  As if on cue he pulls you into a tight hug, you wrap your arms around his waist feeling his muscles flex in your grasp. He sighs long and deep like your embrace was the only thing keeping him from losing his sanity. He doesn’t say anything for a while as you both just sway for a moment, like two lovers who’ve gone weeks without seeing each other. It’s so comforting you almost forget about the impending doom of having to tell him about Frankie. You decided on the walk over that you would be upfront with him from the beginning. Just in case he wanted to call things off. You didn’t want to come off as some girl who wanted a free date from him just to break the news to him at the end of the night. Ultimately you would leave the decision up to him and go from there. 

  “Hi hummingbird, I missed you.” He speaks softly into your hair as you try to stay on your feet. 

  “I missed you too.” He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes. It feels wrong but it’s true, you did miss him. 

  “I hope you like what I have planned for us tonight.” His eyes twinkle when he mentions it again but you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Something on your mind?”

  You take a deep breath and put a little more space between you as he holds your hands in his. “I have a lot to say before we go on our date so just give me a moment okay?” He nods once acknowledging what you said. 

  He’s stoic on the outside but internally he’s starting to panic. You didn’t say you didn’t want to go on the date but there’s clearly something wrong. 

  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you and getting to know you better, but I have to be clear about some things since you’ve been gone. I’ll spare you all the details but…I met my soulmate yesterday.” His hands tighten their grip a little but you don’t seem to notice. “I know this may sound confusing but…I’m not going to just drop you for someone I just met. At the same time, I feel like it would be crazy to not give my soulmate a chance.” 

  You stare down at the ground hoping it will stop your rambling and give you the words you practiced in the mirror that are coming out all wrong. “I understand if this is too much-“

  He cuts you off as he tips your chin up with his finger. He’s comfortably stepped into your space again and you wouldn’t know by the look on his face that he’s seething. 

  “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time, and I’m not about to back down from a little friendly competition.” Your eyes are challenging him when you don’t pull away. He leans in, his lips barely ghost over yours like he’s waiting for permission.

  You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting from him but it certainly wasn’t this. You’re sick of trying to predict what your life is going to do and instead decide to go with the flow. 

  You kiss him first. 

  It almost knocks you off your feet how different he is from Frankie as he takes back control. He’s more sure of himself like he’s kissed you a thousand times. His hand travels behind your head, while the other grabs your waist. You gasp at how close he has you pulled into him as you taste the hint of mint and something else that’s entirely Dave. He chuckles a little at how he’s already got you so worked up. If it’s a competition you want then it’s a competition you’ll get. 

  “It’s not really customary to kiss before the date.” He’s a little breathless and you laugh as his muscles twitch beneath your fingers. 

  “I don’t think anything we’re doing is customary.” He huffs at that, yet you have no idea the full weight behind it. 

  “I’m just glad I haven’t lost my touch…it’s been a while.” He laces his fingers with yours. “I hope you like what I have planned.” 

  “Oh I’m sure I will.” 

  ****

  You don’t care how ridiculous you sound as you scream the lyrics to don’t stop believing at the top of your lungs. It’s just one of those songs no matter how many times you hear it or how many times it gets overplayed, you can’t help yourself. 

  Dave is doing his best to hide the fact that he’s been singing every song word for word as he hovers close behind you in the crowd. 

  He was a little nervous at first when you arrived at the venue…picking a concert for a first date was a bold move. He’ll be replaying the excited jumps you did on a loop in his head when he revealed it was a Journey cover band. He remembered from the first time he walked into your store and somehow got lucky when he saw a place on the waterfront hosting the special event. 

  You’re a stone's throw from your impromptu date with Frankie the previous night. The setting is much similar as you look out onto the water. Your stomach does a flip every so often when he possessively shields you from someone getting too close, or the way his hands instinctively wrapped around you during the slow songs. 

  Thankfully he made time before the show to get some dinner at one of the many food trucks outside the venue. You’re excited giggles when you said you wanted to try everything so that’s exactly what he did. You both shared a little from each one and of course donuts for dessert. You also shared a lot with him about your life. No doubt hoping he would reciprocate. 

  He rarely if ever talked about his wife with other people and most wouldn’t consider the topic a great first date conversation. Except for you. The way you made him want to open up and be better at sharing. It wasn’t awkward at all, in fact it felt a little freeing. If only he could tell you that’s how he found you. Resigning his life to helping people find their soulmate, it’s really his karma that he’s now competing with Frankie. He did this to himself and now the question lingers in the air of how he found you and why don’t you know about who Dave really is. He’s not sure what kind of game Frankie is playing but it’s making him uneasy. 

  His phone vibrates in his pocket as he glances down to see the aforementioned name. 

  Francisco: I hope ur having a nice time let’s talk soon

  He hears a small gasp from you and immediately breaks out into a cold sweat. He tucks his phone into his pocket hoping he hasn’t been found out this way. 

  You’re staring at him with those sad eyes half pouting and it’s quite possibly the scariest and most adorable thing he’s ever seen. “It’s the last song.” 

  His eyes tell a different story than yours as he takes your hand. “We’ll just have to make the most of it then.” He spins you in his arms and you feel a bit like Cinderella, you’re time at the ball running out soon. 

  When the lights go down in the city 

And the sun shines on the bay

  It’s hard to enjoy your favorite song when he’s singing it so sweet in your ear. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck as he sways with you. Your stomach is doing flips for an entirely different reason now because you know at the end of the night you won’t be calling it off with Dave. 

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[dowsinsanity]

To be quiet/ D.M

A/N: this is ab 80’s Dave (silly little carrot i love him)

!!!: smut, p in v, no protection,praise, finger sucking, oral (f receiving), kinda public sex??? Idk

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

You two were in your bedroom while listening to some music, while your parents were downstairs doing only god knows what (nor that you cared tbh). Since you and Dave were alone in your room, you had to follow the rule that your parents imposed, the door must be open at all times, so you two couldn’t do nothing.

Well, at least thats what they think, you were chilling in your bed talking to dave about some movie you liked when all of the sudden you’re straddling his lap on top of him while making out. Things get heated up pretty fast but you are concerned about the door.

“Dave, we can’t, what if they hear us?” You said quietly so they won’t hear it. “Im sure you can take me and be quiet like a good girl, can’t you?” He whispered against your ear while grouping your ass.

You squirmed a little while he sucked and licked your neck, and his hands reaching to your breasts. “O-okay i guess if we’re not loud…”. As you said that, Dave flipped you over, being him on top of you. He didn’t took of your shirt, he pulled it up and started sucking on your nipples while one of his hands navigated through your body to touch your clothed pussy through your sweatpants.

“Hmm” the sound coming out of your mouth almost automatically, “shh, if you want to feel good, you must be quiet hon” he grinned while starting to take your pants off. All you could focus on was Dave in between your legs giving little nips to your inner thighs while his thumb rubbed circles in your pussy, “look how soaked is my pretty girl” he said as he dived into your cunt, licking all over and sucking on your clit. You almost moaned but soon enough a hand came to zip your mouth.

Short time passed and you were cumming on his face and leaving his hand full of your drool. “Did so good f’me, now let’s have our little show” he said as he came up to kiss you and start taking his cock out of his jeans.

He got in between your legs while rubbing his cock in your pussy, causing friction that made you sight, “Am i going to have to shut you up?” You looked at him all teary eyed as he put his fingers in your mouth and his dick into you. Your eyes rolled back as you tried not to moan.

Dave’s pace only increased looking for his release, you were a mess when suddenly a familiar voice came from downstairs, “darling, you two want a snack?”, you were freeze, “come on, answer her~” dave told you as he was thrusting hard into you.

“No! T-thanks mom!” You hardly said “Okay!” She said, not suspecting that her daughter was being fucked up. “Poor old mommy not knowing im going to fill u up real nice” he whispered.

After a few thrusts more dave’s hand went to your clit and you two ended up cumming together, his warm seed filling you up.

After that, you went to the bathroom and went back to your room to cuddle up in your bed w him as the sunset hits.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑭𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑾

pairing: chef!pero tovar x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, romance, modern au, strangers to lovers

word count: 3.4k

summary: thanks to a reservation mishap, and an unexpected breakup via text, you find yourself sharing valentines dinner with a charming stranger.

warnings: oral (receiving), hint of dirty talk, piv

a/n: I was @lowlights secret valentine for the exchange we did in the dave server 💘 happy valentines, laura! I hope you have an amazing one, and I hope you enjoy this fic. It was super fun to write (and honestly a much-needed break from writing joel 24/7 lmaodfvdf) so thank you for that! 💘💘💘

The restaurant is flooded with people. The poor staff runs left and right, most of them carrying trays of food and the remaining others taking orders. It smells fantastic inside. You identify a hint of citrus in the air. The chatter is loud, but you can’t focus on any of it. Your bottom lip trembles, eyes glued to the phone screen in front of you. 

Sorry, I think we should see other people. This isn’t working out and I’m pretty sure you already knew this. 

Obviously, you didn’t have a clue he was feeling like this. If you had, you wouldn’t bother with making reservations two months prior. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, how on earth can you even reply to this? Who the hell would dump someone over text on Valentine’s Day. Not that you attach a lot of sentiment to the day, but still, it’s quite a dickish move no matter if you care for the day or not. He could’ve waited another day—He could’ve at least had dinner with you, knowing that you’ve put a lot of effort into planning it all. 

Frowning, you place the phone face-first over the ridiculously soft tablecloth. He was right. You should have seen it. You weren’t happy, you were just comfortable. 

“Excuse me ma’am?” 

Blinking, you look up to the waiter. He genuinely seems upset to have pulled you away from your train of thought, but honestly, you were grateful. When you smile, he mimics your expression, seemingly more relieved. 

“Will your date be arriving soon?” 

Ah, now that’s a question. 

“Uh…well,” you lower your gaze back to you phone, an awkward smile touching your lips. “He just broke up with me so…no?” 

“Oh, I’m very sorry to hear that Ma’am,” you’re not a fan of how robotic he sounds, like he’s used to it, but you swallow and wait for him to continue. “Do you want to proceed with the menu?” 

“Yeah, I mean I might as well. I made the reservations.” 

“Delightful—” he stills for a brief moment, clearly contemplating his next words. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“We’ve seemed to make a mistake when taking your reservation ma’am.” 

“Meaning?” 

“We accidentally reserved this table for another patron as well.” 

Isn’t that just delightful. Truly, this is just your luck, first get dumped and now you’re probably going to be asked to leave. De-fucking-lightful. 

“I guess you’re going to ask me to leave then,” you mutter, already reaching for your jacket. The waiter halts you by raising both hands, such a strained and calculated movement. 

“Ma’am, you have misunderstood. The other reservation has been made for one person only, I simply wanted to ask if it would be okay if he could be seated with you. I apologize for the inconvenience, we will be sure to bring complementaries for the both of you.” 

“Oh,” you slowly lower your hand, still a bit in shock. Swiping your tongue over your bottom lip, you nod. “Of course. And it’s alright, better than being by alone.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I will be bringing him in shortly.” 

The waiter, true to his word, comes back only minutes later. 

The first thing you notice about the man meant to be your dinner partner for the evening is how broad he is. 

He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, dark brown eyes lingering over the empty chair sitting across from you. You swallow down your embarrassment. He’s wearing a white cotton pleat-front shirt, a dark forest-green velvet suit, a black bowtie, and a white pocket handkerchief for a pop of color. You notice a rather expensive-looking watch on his wrist. 

The waiter introduces the stranger, “This is Mr. Tovar. Once again I truly apologize on behalf of the establishment. We hope you enjoy your evening.” he says and disappears into the chaos. 

Mr. Tovar smiles, leaning forward, he offers you his hand. “You can call me Pero,” he says, a soft accent you can’t quite place in his voice. Your cheeks start to burn. “And you are?” 

Stumbling over your words, you manage to introduce yourself. He nods and takes his seat across from you, the waiters bring out the appetizers. It was a pre-planned Valentine’s menu. Looking down you notice the colorful and elegant platter, featuring thin, rosy-pink slices of beef arranged on a bed of dark green arugula and scattered with golden shavings of parmesan cheese. 

“Wow this looks amazing,” you mutter, and he agrees, picking up his fork. Not waiting for this to be a silent supper, you clear your throat before speaking. “So…Mr. Tovar—” 

“Pero is fine.” 

“Pero,” you repeat, enjoying the way the name feels on your tongue. “What brings you here alone? You got dumped too?” 

“I just enjoy food,” he stuffs a slice of beef between his lips, he’s surprisingly un-elegant despite the way he looks. However, the way he eats makes you forget where you are. It’s a big bite, that’s for sure. “Today was the only empty reservation they had. So it was either today or…five months later. I did not want to take the chance.” he swallows. “But it seems they didn’t actually have the reservation.”

“Yeah, I guess things get pretty intense on Valentine's.”  

He shrugs, another slice disappearing between his lips, “It is okay. It all worked out in the end.” 

“You don’t mind sharing a table with a stranger?” you smile, your tone light. “I bet you imagined this night differently.” 

“Very,” he grins then shakes his head. “But that does not mean this is necessarily bad. I can imagine worse people to eat with, compared to that this is nice actually.” when you stare at him, slightly mesmerized, he adds. “Can I ask what brought you here?” 

“Dumbassery,” a bitter chuckle drops from your lips, he looks up at you between dark lashes. “Sorry, basically I was supposed to be here with my boyfriend but well…he sent me a text that he wants to see other people about—” you check your watch. “A half hour ago.” 

“Ah, I am sorry to hear that,” he cleans the remainder of his plate and so do you. “However, you do not seem that bothered by it.” 

“I guess I wasn’t that into it, to begin with,” you mutter, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He must’ve sensed it because before you can say anything, Pero starts to apologize. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. For what it’s worth I’m happy that I ended up at your table,” 

“I guess this is what they call a silver lining,” the waiter scoops up your plates, and another one fills your glasses with Merlot to pair with the red meat entrées. “Anyway enough about me, what do you do? Who is Pero Tovar?” 

“Depends on who you ask, hermosa,” he quips. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles in your chest, his smile widens upon hearing the sound. “I am a chef.” 

“A chef? I guess that explains why you like food so much.” 

He nods, “It had been a childhood dream of mine. We didn’t have much…food, and mi mamá could make wonders out of very little. That inspired me heavily. And well, here I am now.” 

You’re speechless and he takes notice of it but says nothing. Swallowing, you muster a response. 

“That’s amazing, I’m sure she’s proud of you.” 

“She is,” he grins. “What about you? What do you do?” 

You’re about to answer when the waiter suddenly comes to place the entrees in front of you both; a perfectly cooked steak, set on a bed of crisp, green roasted herb butter, with a spoonful of dark red wine reduction drizzled over it. A basket of fresh bread and butter is also placed on the table. The butter is on top of small plates, made into a shape of a pyramid but honestly… they look like butter nipples and you fight the urge to giggle. 

“What is it?” he chuckles, brows pinched together. “Did I spill some wine on my shirt?” 

He makes a show of looking down and you laugh. You shake your head. “You’re good don’t worry. I was just…well the butter,” 

“Ah yes, the butter nipples—” 

You’re mid swallowing your wine when he says it, you nearly choke, your lungs burning from attempting to swallow and cough. He shoots you a worried look, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink. 

“Sorry…was that not…what you were thinking?”

“No no, it was,” you suck in a breath and shakily palace the wine glass back. “That was exactly what I was thinking actually, that’s why I was surprised.” 

“I mean, it is quite obvious what it looks like, no?” he cuts into his steak. “I honestly would’ve taken the rest of your words with a grain of salt if you said it did not look like it.” 

“Oh, so it was a test?” you tease, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Not really, but if it was, you passed with flying colors.” 

“I’ve always been a grade-A student.” 

After the incident of you nearly choking to death over butter nipples, the two of you eased into the conversation. Pero is ridiculously easy to talk to. Despite what you had initially thought of him, he isn’t intimidating at all. He orders the two of you a second bottle, talking about his experiences as a chef. He prides himself in still enjoying the art of cooking, whereas, apparently, most chefs have lost that spark—which in return mirrored within the dishes they prepared. 

There is a lot of under-the-table touching, your knee constantly brushes against his. Honestly, you’re not sure if you’re doing it on purpose or not, you want to believe he’s the one initiating the secret touches. 

“Did you meet Gordon Ramsay?” you dumbly ask, the wine hitting your tongue. “I used to watch his shows religiously.” 

“I have…” he swirls the wine in his mouth, both of your plates are licked clean. “We got along…for the most part.” 

“There’s a story there, tell me.” you coo, pressing both your elbows against the table. Suddenly he feels physically closer, but you know he isn’t, at least you think he isn’t. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“There’s going to be another time?” 

Your question hangs in the air. You feel nervous, you had hoped to sound flirty, but honestly, you have no idea what you’re doing. Your eyes follow as his hand comes near, it hovers above yours for a brief moment. He lets out a sigh, and allows his hand to fall, it looks much bigger than yours, you hold your breath. 

“I would like for there to be another time,” he mutters, averting his gaze but still keeping his hand in place. “If you want to.” 

“I would very much so, yes.” 

Your cheeks ache from smiling. Looking down, you notice that the waiter had already placed an elegant-looking dessert in front of you both. A visually stunning dessert, with a bright red cheesecake layer atop a crumbly cookie crust, topped with a colorful mixture of fresh berries in a glossy compote. Pero takes a forkful into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

A violent heat instantly flares between your legs. Mouth and lips feeling dry, you stick your tongue out to wet them. His eyes follow your tongue, his cheek moving animatedly as he chews. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” you look down and pick up your fork, you push a berry off of the cake. “You look good when you eat.” 

“Really?” 

You look up again, noticing that he genuinely looks surprised. You slowly nod, holding his gaze. He brings the fork to his lips, making a show of opening his mouth and closing his lips around the desert. He chews steadily and nods. 

He says nothing else, the conversation topic shifts. All you can think about how warm it is. 

Despite your protests, Pero pays the bill, saying that you’ll be paying next time. 

It all happens in a blur. The door closes shut, the sound of it nothing but an echo to your ears. He presses you up against the wall, lips on your neck, licking the salt from your skin with the flat of his tongue. With a whimper, you press your hips into him, feeling the hardness underneath. 

You had simply invited him upstairs for a cup of coffee. Who knew elevators could be such an aphrodisiac? 

“Is this okay?” he asks between soft bites, the tremble of his voice seeping into your skin. “Is this what you want?” 

“Yes to both of those—” 

He lifts his head away from your neck, strong arms caging you in. His breath ghosts over your skin and you breathe in, being under his gaze feels like melting under the sun. 

“Kiss me.” 

And he does. Over and over again. He can’t get enough of you and he conveys that with his lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the bitterness of wine and the sweetness of berries. He sucks the air from your lungs, teeth clattering and his nose pressing into your skin. Heat skims over your very being, settling between your legs. His palms knead the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer, guiding the sloppy roll of your hips. 

When he parts, you can see his lips glistening under the dim light, they’re completely kiss swollen and you fight the urge to suck his bottom lip between your teeth. 

He swallows and your eyes follow the bob of his adam’s apple, “Where is your bedroom, bebita?” 

“This way.” 

You feel the tremble in his chest, he squeezes your hips one more time before he allows you to guide him further into the apartment. Pero doesn’t even glance at the bedroom, he kisses you until you’re falling back first into the soft sheets. His hands cradle your thighs, thumb drawing smooth circles over your pantyhose. Your breath hitches, your mind disarray as his face comes into view. 

“May I?” he asks, sounding as if his mouth is flooded with saliva. 

You chuckle, brushing a lock of soft hair that covers his right eye, “You may.” 

A loud rip follows your answer. The cold air rushes a shudder up your spine, your hips raising without a second thought to seek his heat. The thin fabric falls to the floor in tatters. You yelp when he tugs you further to the edge of the bed, he kneels between your legs, gently raising your hips to reach where his mouth is. 

“You’re still hungry?” you tease. 

“I’m fucking starving.” 

He presses his nose against the seam of your panties, inhaling your scent before mouthing along the soft folds, he teases you with the tip of his tongue, applying pressure when he finds your clit. You gasp, fingers curling into the sheets. You’re sizzling, the heat of his lips adding to the fire. He slowly peels the fabric away, sticky with slick, and he drops it to the floor below your feet. 

Thumb pressing into your clit, he gently pulls to get a better look. You shine for him, wordlessly begging him to continue. 

“Tan hermosa,” he rasps, his breath chilling as it ghosts over your sex. “Have you been thinking about this during dinner?” 

When you don’t answer, he smiles, drawing quick circles around your aching clit. “Filthy girl,” he groans closing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

You whimper his name, pushing your trembling fingers into his hair, your drag your nails down the back of his neck. He gradually moves down, tongue nestled between the lips of your cunt while the curve of his nose bumps into your clit, he kisses you tenderly—intimately. It never felt this good before, not that anyone before took the time to learn what made you feel good. Pero moves according to the sound of your voice, the trembling of your thighs, and the drag of your nails. Every little thing he picks up and uses to his advantage. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. You come with a sharp cry, tugging him by the air and pulling his sinful mouth closer. You’re shaking like a leaf, thighs pressed against both sides of his face. Slurps and groans echo from the back of his throat, tongue moving greedily, making sure not a single drop escapes him. 

“So good,” he moans, looking up to you and licking his lips. “I think I am ready for the main course now, cariño.” 

“Oh god,” you sigh, the sheets feeling extra sensitive against your skin as he pushes you up the bed, taking his place between your wet thighs. He strips quickly, you notice. “That was amazing, Pero. God— I’m lost for words,” 

“I’m flattered but also a bit sad that it is such a surprise to you to feel so good,” he answers, a sly smile touching his wet lips. Leaning in, he drags his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling you. “Do you want to feel good on my cock, princesa. Tell me.” 

“I do,” you murmur. “Please,” 

“You sound pretty when you beg.” 

“Please,” you repeat again, raising your hips. “I need to feel you.” 

His cock lays heavy between your legs, he licks the salt off your skin as he rolls his hips, coating himself with slick. Heat pools in the pits of your stomach. You feel the touch of his lips over the swell of your breast, tongue moving around your nipple ravenously before he pushes himself inside. The stretch makes your entire body go stiff. 

“Relax,” he whispers into your skin. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out as his hands skim the frame of your body, it’s a soothing touch, one that makes you arch and take more of him. “‘Feels good,” 

Pero moves slow, burying himself inch by inch until he sinks into your heat completely. During this, he continues to touch and kiss you. Thick fingers rolling the hardened peaks as his tongue slips into your mouth, swallowing your moans and begs. 

His cock feels heavy and warm inside, you flutter around him, slightly grinding your hips as a silent beg for him to move. He does. Pero drags his cock out, only the head stretching you, and buries himself back in with one hard thrust. Your eyes go wide, your jaw goes slack. It’s like electricity shooting up your spine, every nerve singing with pleasure and very much so alive. 

“More,” you manage to choke out. “More, Pero—Please,” 

Pero dips into the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, he thrusts into you with the same enthusiasm, if not more. His strokes are hard, yet slow. He moans openly into your skin, lips caressing the column as a need, a necessity. Arousal and slick pours between your legs, the way he reacts is very similar to a man taking breath after being denied of oxygen. You squeeze around him, your second orgasm already starting to simmer deep in your gut. 

He must’ve felt it because he pounds into you with fervor, one hand skims down your body and grips your thigh, forcing you to spread yourself even wider for him. The slick sounds accompany your moans, every movement deeper than the one before. You see a flash of light under your eyelids, black dots hovering in your line of vision as your entire body convulses and shudders, pleasure scorching your skin like the desert sun. 

Your eyes flutter open in the midst of a lustful haze, you see Pero pulling way from you, the sudden emptiness makes you feel cold. He wraps his fingers around his weeping length, holding your gaze and groaning as he strokes himself until he’s coming in thick ropes, staining your stomach. You moan at the warmth splashing over your skin, your body a trembling mess. 

Pero leans over you, softening cock in hand, he crashes his lips into yours, licking the inside of your mouth eagerly before pulling away. 

“Let me clean you up,” he says, voice barely above a raspy whisper. “Bathroom?” 

“Down the hall first door to your left.” 

You can’t help but watch as he makes his way out of the bedroom, gorgeous ass in its full naked glory. Sighing, you fall back into your pillows. 

Little did you know, being dumped at the last second would turn out to be the most fortuitous twist of fate.

[boliv-jenta]

For @movievillainess721

Dave York x f!reader Frankie Morales x f!reader Jack Daniels x f!reader

Warnings:All kinds of smut. Unprotected P in V sex.(This fiction wrap it in real life.) Rough sex. Degradation. Cream pie. M&F!receiving oral. Vaginal fingering. Rimming. I think that's it, but if you've made it this far, you're probably up for it all.

Summary: After a mission, you find yourself hold up with your three temporary teammates. How will you pass the time?

Interagency Cooperation

This takes interagency cooperation to a whole new level. The thought almost made you giggle around Dave's hard length. He moaned at the vibration keeping the laughter at bay brought to your throat. Jack felt the tension in your body where he was joined to it. As both men groaned, Frankie felt a little left out. Feeling the self conscious shift in his posture you pumped him a little harder.

Three weeks earlier….

"So I'm just stuck here?!"

"Who is denying extraction? Who gave that order?!"

"We're damn Statesman! We can fix bullet wounds in people's head but we can't get me the fuck out of here?!"

"Fuck, Santi. I'll fly myself out of here!"

The open plan villa echoed with the sound of disgruntled conversation with your handlers. The decision had been made that the four of you needed to go to ground for a while. Any type of extraction was too risky. 

The private villa was out of the way, one of the first few completed builds as part of gentrification of a poor coastal town. It was well stocked with food, and whiskey, thanks to Stateman. After the initial irritation wore off, you realised there were worse places to be stuck. As well as worse people to be stuck with. 

Jack was every inch the charming Southern gentleman, you could listen to that accent calling you Sugar for hours. Dave was reserved but had a dry wit that you found amusing. 

Frankie had been quiet, focus, diligent during the mission. The way he kept his cool was admirable. He also let a softer side of him slip now and then. Engaging you in light conversation now and then. When you'd joked with him the chuckle that left him was cute as anything. 

A week or two with them wouldn't be so bad.

Not bad at all. You thought on the second day when they had to change into the clothing left at the villa. They were supposed to be on vacation so the wardrobe consisted of shorts and t-shirts that were too small for their broad frames. 

The three of them had not so subtly eyed you, in your bikini, lounging by the pool. Dave was the first one to come and join you. Tossing his towel then his shirt on the lounger next to you, he dove into the water to swim a few lengths. When he emerged poolside, water ran down every dip of every muscle. His shorts stuck to the curve of his ass. You could imagine digging your nails into it as he pounded into you. Not that you would, with his wedding ring and all.

"The water is perfect. You're not going in?" He sat on the sunlounger opposite you. 

"Maybe later. It's not often I get to just do nothing." Your book was now on the table beside you. With your eyes closed, you wiggled down the sunlounger to enjoy the warmth of the sun blanketing you. With your eyes closed, you didn't see the way 

Dave's eyes raked up your body. You did open them in time to see them blatantly fixed on your chest. "So you're in no rush to get home? No one waiting?"

"Nope. You must be eager to get home to your family."

"My kids, yeah. Not my wife."

With the not so subtle formalities out of the way. The two of you made your way to the small guest house that you'd moved into to give the boys their own rooms. You were barely through the door before Dave was taking his frustrations out on you from behind. He kept you pinned to the small desk beneath you as your legs gave way. It was rough and fast but fuck, was it good. Afterwards, you both left with the same amount of nonchalance you had entered with. Dave went to take a shower. You returned to your book. 

The same book you were reading the next night when Jack came over with a bottle of whiskey in hand. It took less than half of it and a cheeky comment about saving a horse to have you riding him out in the open. That voice loudly praising you without a care in the world as to who was listening. "Fuck, that's it. Darlin'. Take what you need. So fucking pretty riding my dick."

The same sunlounger that Frankie found you stargazing on, when you couldn't sleep. He appeared, his curls tousled from a restless night. The curls that were soon between your fingers as his head was between your legs. His talented tongue making you cum twice before yours returned the favour. Sending him back to bed, ready to sleep.

This was the odd routine you found yourself in for the next two weeks. Random liaisons with each of them. Not a word spoken about it afterwards. It wasn't the first time you'd used casual sex to unwind after a mission. It was the first time you had three incredibly hot men making you cum multiple times a day. It was like the filthy 'romance' novel you'd been reading. You should be shocked at the turn of events but your whole life, you'd lived outside of what people would consider normal. Your childhood, your career choice. Being railed by three different guys was probably the least out there event in your life. And by far the most fun.

"So it's agreed? Terminator marathon?" You settled into the sofa, tucked under a blanket. Frankie on one side, Whiskey on the other. Dave sat on a plush armchair to the left. 

About half way through T2 Jack's hand found your knee under the blanket, his thumb tracing circles on it. Your breath hitched when he suddenly ran his fingers right up your thigh to your core. Frankie shot you a look before returning his attention to the movie. 

Jack's fingertips edged up the leg of your shorts and into your panties. You managed to keep your breathing steady as his fingers swirled across your clit. Your breathing did hitch again when Frankie's warm hand cupped your breast. This time he didn't even look at you. Like Jack he kept his attention on the screen as his fingers brought you pleasure, exciting your nipples. 

T2 suddenly turned into the longest movie in the world. Time was suspended, like you were by the pleasure shooting through your body between the two men's fingertips. Giving yourself over to them completely, you closed your eyes. 

Until Dave cleared his throat. "You were the one that suggested this movie but you're not even watching it. You need to keep your eyes open. Here, let me show you." He stood from his chair. "Come here."

Frankie and Jack's hands withdrew, allowing you to move. Then both looked on with approval. As soon as you stood before Dave he shoved you down to your knees. Taking a fistful of your hair, he held your head in place. Pulling his already hard cock out, he pumped it a few times before pressing it to your lips. "Eyes on me. Ah, that's it." He hissed as his length entered your mouth. His dark eyes fixed you in place. "You are going to get us all good and….uh…hard. Then w-we are going to take turns fuckin-g you."

Pulling out he jerked his head at Frankie and Jack. Jack graciously let Frankie go next. Cupping your cheek tenderly he asked "¿Estas bien cariño?"

In reply you took him as far into your mouth as you could. 

His head rolled back along with his eyes. "Oh, fuuuck."

By the time Jack made his way over, your jaw pleasantly ached. "It's okay, Sugar. You just keep those lips nice and tight and I'll do the rest. Oh, just like that." His hips moved slowly as he worked himself with your mouth.

Tucking himself away, he helped you to your feet. "Come on, Sugar." 

Guiding you to the sofa he situated you so your knees were on the seats and your forearms rested on the back. "We thought we'd let Frankie warm you up. We've heard how much you enjoy your time with him."

Frankie looked torn between being proud and embarrassed. Still, he didn't hesitate to rip your shorts down to eat you out from behind. In record time, he had you cumming on his tongue.

"Credit where it's due. You are really good at that." Jack slapped Frankie on the back as he wiped your slick from his moustache.

Dave stepped up behind you to take your shorts from around your ankles. "We're gonna have a little health competition. We gonna keep taking turns to fuck you. First one to cum gets one point, second two points, third three points. Every time you cum on one of our dicks we get a point. Since we know you are just as competitive as we are. If you outlast us all you win."

"What do I get if I win?"

"We'll do whatever you want." He whispered in your ear as he spread your legs wider. 

"Frankie can eat you out, like you're his last meal." Dave could see you getting wetter as he spoke. The sight of the three of them stripping down didn't hurt either.

"Jack can make you squirt 'til you soak through your sheets." Jack had been the only man to get you to soak him like that. He was so proud of himself. Clearly proud enough to brag to the others.

"And I…" A solid crack reverberated around the room as he hand connected with your ass. "...I will treat you like my dirty little whore. What do you say?"

Lining himself up the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. "You wanna play?"

Showing him that you were all in you pushed back until he was all in. Gripping your waist and shoulder he drove into you at an angle that had you screaming. It was so overwhelming that you rushed to the edge of an orgasm only for him to pull out. 

"Fuck." He grunted moving aside to let Jack take his place. 

"I feel like I'm about to get my first point." He smirked at Dave, who had dropped breathlessly beside you.

"I handed it to you." He snapped back.

Jack was right, only a few minutes of him splitting you open had you bucking beneath him as he kissed the back of your neck. 

"Mmm, feels like I won already." His moustache tickled your skin as he spoke. He worked you through your orgasm before calling to Frankie. "You're up, Flyboy."

"Already? See how good you feel? Ah." He shuddered as he slipped inside of you. "So warm and wet. Feels like paradise." Frankie may be quiet on missions but he was a talker in the bedroom. Out of the three Frankie was the most gentle. Jack a close second, his movements were soft but with a knowing strength behind them. Dave was just rough all over. The only softness you got from him was his spent dick. Frankie gently rolled his hips, coaxing an orgasm out of you. 

The gentle build up coupled with his murmurings of how beautiful you were, how good you made him feel, had you fluttering around him in no time. "God, Frankie. I'm coming." Reaching back, your hand covered his at your waist. He held it gently as waves of pleasure ebbed through you.

"Fuck." Dave gritted his teeth next to you. The second Frankie moved away Dave was there, one hand pulling a fist full of your hair and the other grabbing the flesh of your tit, digging his blunt fingernails into your skin. "Your disrespectful little whore. You gonna cum on every other cock apart from mine? Are you keeping count? That's three bare cocks you've had in that greedy little cunt. You've creamed on two of them. This is what I mean when I called you a whore. Three dicks fucking you and you love it." 

Your legs gave way as the hand at you chest released you only to abruptly shove two fingers into your sopping channel. The same two finger were shoved in your face a second later. 

"See how wet?" Prising your mouth open with his other hand he shoved the glistening fingers against your tongue. "Suck them clean. See how good you taste? No wonder Morales is addicted."

Dave smirked with pride as you nearly choked on his fingers when he slammed into you again. Every inch of his impressive cock penetrating you in one go. 

"Such a good little slut. Taking such big cocks with not resistance. Given how tight this little hole is, you must really want them. Do you?"

While he'd been speaking he'd resumed his hard and fast pounding. You had no idea how he was evil villain monologuing while ramming his dick into you. You could barely breathe, let alone speak. All that came out of your mouth when you opened it was involuntary noises. 

A sharp sting bloomed on your ass. "I said 'Do you really want to be railed by three hard, long, fat cocks?' Hmmm?" 

Gripping the sofa to try and steady yourself, you summoned all your strength to get out a 'yes'. 

"Good girl. I know what you want even more though. Those three cocks to cum in that pussy. Imagine it all dripping out of you. You cum on my dick enough then I can fill you first. It'll even out the points."

Dave was now fucking you so hard and fast that you were bent over the back of the sofa. You silently thanked whoever decorated it for not skimping on the quality of the furniture. The well made heavy wooden frame was the only thing keeping you upright. Dave was now slamming so deep inside you, your brain couldn't function on any higher level. All it heard was 'man fill you with seed' and it was gone. 

"Oh, fuck, Dave. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The world shifted on its head. Until strong hands pulled at you. They held your boneless form as your brain tried to restart. 

Not only had you cum hard, you'd squirted all over Dave, and the well made sofa. Your cunt and clamped down on Dave so hard that he pulled out to choke his cock in an effort not to cum. Without him gripping you, your lax body had nearly toppled over the back of the sofa until Jack had grabbed you. You were now in his lap. 

"Pass me that water." Jack ordered Frankie. "Here, Sugar. Sip this." A bottle met your lips. Drinking greedily you slowly came back into your body. "Easy, now. You need to tap out?"

Both Jack and Frankie looked at you with concern. 

"No. I'm good. Saddle up, Cowboy." Your eyes never left Dave's as you spoke. He might be competitive but you were even more so.

"Well then, let's at least get you into a safer position." With you in his arms, he stood. The high quality sofa was also built up. He set your ass on one of the arms before gently reclining you back to lay on it. Thankful, Frankie had wiped the seats down. At this angle he was able to spread your legs wide over his forearms before entering you. 

"Goddamn. You feel even…" he wasn't even able to finish his sentence as he filled you with his release. "Fuck." He panted as he kept his softening length inside you.

"That's only two points, Cowboy." Dave taunted. 

"Right now, I couldn't give a fuck." Jack replied. He groaned as thumbed your clit causing your still sensitive pussy to spasm around him.

"That's cheating." Dave reminded him.

"Hey, I already lost. Let a man bow out gracefully." Reluctantly he pulled out of you. "Besides, with just you two fellas playing, don't you wanna make things interesting?"

Dave knew that Jack was just trying to goad him. It was clear he'd rather Frankie win their game. Still, he was never one to back down from a challenge. "Fine. You can use your fingers on her. No eating her pussy." Dave thought back to watching Frankie eat you out on the edge of the hot tube. He didn't care that he was sitting on the balcony he shared with Jack, he immediately had to relieve his rock hard dick at the sound of your moans. From the sounds coming from Jack's room, he had too. He wasn't handing a win to Morales.  "You only get points for her coming on your dick."

"Fine." Frankie agreed as he stepped between your legs. His fingers glided over your slick flesh with ease. He'd barely given you the tip of his cock before a soft orgasm washed over you. Not wanting to give Dave an advantage he pulled out and made room for him. 

"I should have been more specific about the rules." He grunted as he bottomed out. 

Fuck, you felt good around him. He was so tempted to to just fuck his release into you but he didn't want the pilots to win. His thick fingers worked your sensitive bundle much like Frankie's had, he could feel the effect it was having on you. Your walls tightened around him with each thrust. He was getting closer to his own climax while yours seemed frozen.

"I can feel it. Just let go." Ragging your vest and bra up he swotted at your exposed breast. 

"I can't. I can't." You almost sobbed. Overstimulation had settled in. Dave thought he could force you over the edge. His fingers working as fast as he cock only brought him close to the edge, not you. "Damn it!" He withdrew, panting and willing his orgasm to subside before he spilled onto the beautiful tile floor. 

Frankie shot a smug look your way as he stepped between your legs before dropping to his knees. 

"Hey!" Dave barked.

"I heard you. Don't eat her pussy." Frankie's breath flowed over the soft skin of your ass before his fingers parted your cheeks. His tongue slipped into the tight ring of muscle bringing a whole new sensation. It fired up your nerves anew. As his tongue lapped at your back entrance his fingers gently teased your folds until you were ready to be touched again. Once you were begging for his touch again, he entered you sparking an orgasm from your g-spot then he rolled that energy into one from your clit. 

"He's good at that too." Jack commented as he lazily pumped his newly hard cock in his hand. 

Frankie had a death grip on his own cock. He'd come so close to losing himself in you. The thought of that smug bastard York winning staved off his climax. 

Dave wasn't looking so smug now. He was doing the math in his head. Even if Frankie came before he did, he would only have four points. Frankie would have six. He needed to get the three points from cumming in you last. Which took him to four points. Then another two orgasms out of you to draw and another one to win. That's three on top of the six they'd already gotten from you. And that was if The Pussy Eater didn't make you cum again. At least all this math was helping to kill the buzz in his balls. He needed a plan.

"Move." He ordered Jack who was sat next to your head. He looked down at you ruefully before moving to the armchair. 

"Come on, Baby." Dave moved you up the sofa before climbing being you. This was new. The way he gently spooned you. The way he softly kissed the bare skin of your shoulders. He entered you with such care, gently rocking the tip of his cock against the front of your walls. 

"That's it, Sweetheart. You need it right there? You take it. Come on, make my cock wet. Just a little more and I'll fill you nice and full." His deep voice took on a honeyed tone. His body was warm and soft cocooning you between him and the back of the sofa. It was like your own little private world. 

"I'll fill my girl with all of my cum. You know I always have so much for you. All for for…you." His last word was choked off as you came around him. "Good girl. That's my good girl."

Rolling onto his back he took you with him, still speared on his cock. Now you were spread open for his hands to explore. They played with your tits, rolled and pinched your nipples, stimulated your clit until you came again. Dave was so close to cumming but he was so close to winning. If he could just get one more then hope Frankie lost it then next time he entered your heat like Jack had. 

The way your name fell from his lips he didn't want to stop. It was as soft as a pray. He'd made you scream it, cry it, sob it, in all sorts of ways and tones. This was new and he loved it. Holding you close, he planted his feet to thrust up into you. His thrusts were strong and steady. That was usually Jack's M.O. Slow and steady, building your pleasure. Kissing your neck, he gave you more of his sweet words. "Feel so good around me. You're fucking spoiling us with this pussy. So giving. Pulling us in so deep. Such a perfect little cunt. A man could get lost in it. Oh, my…"

He threw his head back into the cushions as he let out a long moan. He began to fill you. The arching of his back meant that he slipped out halfway through, spraying the last drops over your mound with a satisfying heaviness. When he finally finished all he could do was lie there. 

"You lost." You shot at him with no real malice. 

Your words barely registered, he was too far out. He lay there as he watched Frankie carry you to the other chair. Jack still sat in the one opposite. His strokes of his cock were more purposeful now. Frankie sat down and eased you onto his length. The competition was really between you two now. You just had to take Frankie until he came. Dave knew you could, so he just lay and watched in his blissed out stupor. Frankie's face contorted in pleasure as you proved your will to win by bouncing up and down on him. Moans in English and Spanish flew from him. Dave's attention flickered to Jack for a moment as he shot his load impressively far over himself. He had a sneaking feeling the agent had bowed out early to enjoy the rest of the show. Frankie near whining and griping the arms of the chair drew him back to you. You were still slowly rolling your hips as Frankie filled you. Chants of 'oh god' leaving his lips.

The three men lay boneless in post orgasm haze as you stood, somewhat shakily but triumphant. "I win. I may need a few days before I can collect my prize." You added hobbling away for a much needed soak in the bath.

A couple of night's rest later you collected your prize. "I want all of you. At the same time."

"How do you propose we do that, Sugar?"

"I'm not touching the pilots."

"Whatever you want, Cariño."

"Boys. Boys. I'm sure we can figure it out, we just have to cooperate."

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass

[wildemaven]

One Last Try

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

W/C: 1829

Warnings: 18+; Mentions of food and alcohol, heartbrake, low self worth, angst

A/N: This was written for @wildemaven-prompts Week 4 prompt. I’ve been wanting to write for Dave and this seemed like a good way to start. I was going to do fluff but for the sake of anti-valentines it’s all angst baby!! Hopefully it reads well cause I tried to bust this out today to focus on some other things this next week. Not beta’d as usual!

Masterlist

“Can I bring you two the dessert menu? We have some Sweetheart Valentine’s Day Specials.”

The poor waiter is just doing his job, but he can see the the pained look in your eyes as he asks, knowing a list of sweet indulgences is the last thing you want to subject yourself to this evening.

You look at the man across from you, absorbed in yet another phone call— fifth one since your date started. He’s kicked back in his seat, head nodding in between every other sentence that he directs into the one thing he promised he would leave on silent— wishful thinking on your part.

“Dave? Did you want to order—“ You begin to ask.

He slightly pulls the phone away, hand coming up to cup the receiver as he looks between you and the waiter. “Babe, I’m on an important phone call. Just let her order whatever she wants.” He says as he waves a finger around the menu items then dives back into his conversation, apologizing for the interruption.

It takes everything in you to not break on the spot. The ache in your chest settling in for the evening, it’s nagging weight weaving through your rib cage as it plunges deep into your soul.

“I think we’re good. If you could bring the check that would be great.” Trying your best to blink away the tears threatening to break.

The sympathetic waiter can see you’re struggling to maintain your composure and agrees to bring back the check swiftly.

The pain continues to fester as the minutes tick by. You knew this night would go this way and yet you still hoped for a better outcome— you blame yourself for expecting a semi romantic dinner.

*

Dave was charming from the get go, set up by a close friend who said he was a great guy and had all the qualities you looked for in a partner.

You had fallen for him almost instantly and really enjoyed his company.

He was a great dad to his two girls and had a great relationship with their mother as well— something you don’t see often.

You admired his work ethic as well as his dedication to making an effort for his personal life, you included.

It’s been close to a year since you started dating and you wish you could say things were still as good as they were in the beginning.

You felt less and less like a priority in his life and more of a responsibility to tend to.

You tried to be understanding with how busy he was with his job, you being career oriented yourself. As time went on, plans and dates were brush off for after hour meetings and trips that took away for weeks at a time. Your actual time spent together was few and far between.

Your dreams of a life with a Dave slowly became dismal and you feared the worst was coming, it was just a matter of time before your heart was to be broken yet again by a failed relationship.

But when Dave arranged a date for you both on Valentine’s Day, you saw it as a sign to reconnect and get back those feelings you once shared with him.

And it started that way. You both were so wrapped up in each others company, as you enjoyed your appetizers and drinks. The conversation was light, but it flowed with ease as you caught up on each other. The butterflies you once felt slowly beginning to flutter about within.

You couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was, the candle lighting accentuated his beautiful face and his smile was something you’d missed being on the receiving end of.

His little touches were electric and fueled your yearning for more of him— each brush of his fingers against yours and the soft rub of his foot against your bare calf, it was hard to contain the burning sensation that was building inside of you.

It was when you were mid conversation, sharing about a possible promotion at work, you were interrupted by the incessant buzzing coming from Dave’s jacket. You stared at him blankly for a moment but he seemed to act like he hadn’t heard it.

“Anyways, so my boss said if the numbers pan out over the next quarter then he would like to see about—“

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

“Just one second Honey, it’s probably just the office. I’ll be quick.” His words drifted over the table as he pulled his phone from his pocket and answered in his stern but professional tone. “York speaking.”

You instantly sulked back into your chair, it was only the beginning of the date and he’d already broke the one request you’d asked of him— no work calls.

“Sorry about that, they needed to get my approval on some things.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure it was important.” You forced a smile at him, masking the hurt that was beginning to overwhelm you.

You were finishing your glass of wine as the waiter brought out the main dishes when Dave’s phone began to vibrate again. He didn’t even bother to ask you if he could take it this time, instantly answering it without a thought.

You sat in silence as you picked at your food, finding your appetite had left at some point since his second phone call. The waiter pouring you another glass of wine, you didn’t even bothering to tell him no.

“Well, I want those reports on my desk by morning, I don’t care if you have to stay all night. Talk to you tomorrow.” He ends the call and places the phone down on the table this time, ready for the next round of calls at a moments notice.

“Sorry about that Babe. Seems they can’t handle things with out something getting fucked up along the way.” He apologizes as begins to slice into his now cold steak.

“Hmm.” Is all you can seem to muster in response, as you gnaw at your lips to avoid the look of disappointment that’s settling into your features.

“Everything alright? You seem awfully quiet tonight.”

“I’m fine Dave. Perfectly fine.” Another forced smile as you take another sip of your drink.

Before he’s even managed to finish his plate he’s already answered his phone three more times, this last call being the longest of them.

You can’t help but look around the restaurant to see each table filled with so much love and happiness. So many couples so engrossed with each other and so much joy written plainly on their faces. It feels like to much and you need to get as far away from this place as you can.

*

The waiter brings the check and it goes unnoticed by Dave, you’re not surprised at this point.

You grab your credit card from your clutch and place it in the guest check holder then hand it to the waiter who’s been waiting patiently.

You finish off your glass of wine by the time he comes back with the receipt for you to sign, which had given you enough time to muster up enough courage to do what you’re about to do.

Dave still consumed by whom ever is on the other line doesn’t see you grab for your bag as you scoot your chair back to stand. Letting your frame adjust to the heels you wore and smoothing out the silk shift dress draped over your body, you give him one last chance to acknowledge you— unfortunately it doesn’t happen.

*

You’d made your way back to your townhouse after leaving Dave at the restaurant, eager to wash the disappointment off of you and relax the rest of the evening.

Takeout called into your favorite pizza spot, a chilled bottle of sparkling wine uncorked and poured into a fluted glass as you shed your heels and dress waiting for your tub to fill.

You catch your reflection in the mirror, your eyes slightly puffy from the tears you finally let fall as you were leaving the restaurant, the sea of eyes watching as you made your way out the front door.

You didn’t want to believe that tonight was the beginning of the end when you had made your way to meet Dave earlier. There was that small sliver of hope you were holding tight to, that maybe he would see how much you were fighting for this relationship and how much you loved him.

But ultimately you already knew deep down that you would be leaving alone and that you were once again not a priority anymore.

*

Some angsty song blares through your phone sitting on the bathroom counter, it’s hitting you hard as you sink into the warm bubbles, the water already helping ease the pain surging through you.

The box of pizza within reach as you get lost in your head, reminiscing over the past year and preparing yourself for the heartbreak you will endure for the weeks to come.

The ringing of your phone jolts you from your thoughts, you already know who it is as let it go to voicemail.

You’ve already made up your mind and know the minute you hear his voice, you’d cave and believe him when he says he’ll try harder to be present— you know this because he’s said it only a few short months ago and you believed him then.

Your sudsy hand reaches for your phone, deciding to subject yourself to whatever he’s decided to say.

“Babe… I-I’m so fucking sorry. I got so caught up in work, I-I didn’t see the how it was affecting us— you. I know nothing I say right now is going to make you see how sorry I am for not seeing the pain I’ve caused you. I just want to let you know that I love you and I’m hoping you can forgive me, again. Please let me know you’re okay. Bye”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get use to this feeling. It’s overwhelming and empty at the same time.

You listen to his message a few more times once you’ve dried yourself off and settled into bed, your sheets enveloping your tired body wishing the warmth from Dave’s was surrounding you. His voice is laced with guilt and worry, replaying it again a few more times, knowing it’s the last time you’ll hearing it for awhile.

You can’t bare talking to him right now but manage to find the courage to send a text to before you drift off to sleep.

-Hey. I’m home and I’m safe. I appreciate your apology, I just need to be by myself right now. I don’t know what this means for us going forward but I can’t keep going like this anymore. Maybe we can take some time apart and see if us together is truly what we want and go from there. I love you Dave. We’ll talk soon. -

Alternate Endings

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Intimidation Tactics / Chapter 5

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York

Rating: E (smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Mention of previous abusive relationship, enemies to lovers, idiots to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, switch!Dave and switch!Marcus, sub!Reader, anal sex (m receiving), soft!Dave, feelings, light angst.

Summary: Dave doesn't do relationships. He can't. He leaves behind a string of casualties wherever he goes, whether it's the man who literally died in his arms or the ex-wife who had dealt with long absences for work that he could never talk about, but who had finally left after she saw him washing the blood off of his hands after coming home in the middle of the night. But two warm bodies are wrapped around him, two sets of hopeful eyes looking at him, and your recent activities are still replaying in his mind, making him soft.

A/N: Dave was ALREADY soft in this chapter and then halfway through writing it @honestly-shite posted the latest chapter of Notes on Tutoring and now Dave is even SOFTER just to spite them. SO THERE, MAIA. Thank you to @leslie-lyman and @pedropascalsx for being the loveliest of sounding boards. <3

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Chapter Five - Scars

When Dave wakes, his first thought is to wonder why it's so damn hot in his room. 

When he blinks his eyes open and sees the two other occupants of the bed, two twin furnaces making the area underneath the comforter nearly unbearable, he quirks a little half-smile as awareness washes over him. 

Dave won't pretend he hadn't wanted this. Expected it, no. Jerked off to the thought of it last night, yes. He never would have guessed that he'd end up with the two of you in his bed.

He remembers the day the two of you suddenly entered his life. Carter had tapped on his office door with the news that two FBI Art Crimes Special Agents were sniffing around Quantum Holdings, the phony business they were investigating.

Dave had pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes in frustration. “Art Crimes…” he had repeated. “Has Quantum Holdings started taking any interest in them?”

"Well, they're still alive and in the country,” Carter had said wryly. “But from what I can tell, they’re starting to close in, so it’s just a matter of time before they… disappear.”

“If they get disappeared, it will mean half the operatives we’re tracking will leave with them, ending up in God knows where to torture these idiots for Government secrets,” Dave had muttered. “This is going to set us back months.”

“They can’t be allowed to continue,” Carter had insisted. “For the sake of this operation and, y’know, their lives.”

“I’ll track them down, put a stop to it,” Dave had said dismissively. “A couple of Art Detectives aren’t going to be that hard to intimidate.”

He had sat down at his desk with two files–two lives–about to look for weak spots he could exploit, anything he could use to convince them that he meant business. If he was being honest, Dave had expected to see the pictures of two old men–perhaps with elbow patches on their suit jackets. When he had opened the first file, what he had seen instead was a pair of warm, brown eyes and an enthusiastic smile–far too enthusiastic for a picture that had clearly been taken for a badge ID. The man’s expression reeked of idealism, of some poor soul who had gone into the Agency actually wanting to change the world for the better. Special Agent Marcus Pike.

The Marcus of now had looked quite a few years older than the photo on his badge–at least a decade older, if not more–but in Dave's opinion, time had only increased the man's attractiveness. There were a few more wrinkles, sure, and his smile had been tempered somewhat by heartbreak, but his eyes were the same deep, intense pools Dave had studied in his file. There was an edge that Dave had been drawn to when they had met that first day in the park, a fierceness that paper hadn't been able to capture. There might have been some chinks in the man’s idealism over the years since that picture had been taken, but the bones of it were still there, informing his obvious passion for the job, for you, and the way he had been more than willing to square off against Dave within five minutes. The tick in Marcus’s jaw that seemed to denote fury made Dave want to shove him against the nearest surface and slot their hips together. 

And then there had been you. Too full of pride to admit that you had hitched your horse to the wrong wagon until it was too late, but too tough to be beaten down by life's circumstances. The information on your case was plentiful–you had bravely pressed charges–and in your file was a courtroom sketch of you at the witness stand with red-rimmed eyes, but your chin stuck out in haughty persistence. Dave had stared at it, absentmindedly thumbing his lower lip as he had wondered about you.

The more information Dave had unearthed, the more fascinated he had been by the two of you. Both damaged goods in your own way, both wild and fiery, passionate in what you did for a living, but both so sad. 

It had been the perfect weakness to exploit. Throw the two of you off-kilter by airing your darkest secrets to the other–and oh, Dave could see how you pined for each other. He had expected the two of you to act after he had all but spelled it out for you, but he had watched as the two of you continued to be stubborn–both about the case, and each other–until he had to intervene again, causing the three of you to be in close proximity in this pressure cooker of a safe house.

Dave had tried to resist the pull, at first. But the tension between you and Marcus had been electric and contagious. It had been a selfish indulgence, giving Marcus some better clothes–his clothes. Knowing that the man was going to be wearing his underwear and that fucking vee-neck shirt made Dave half-hard when Marcus had left to take a shower, and Dave had resorted to chopping wood to take his mind off of it. The fact that Marcus had the audacity to look better than him in his own clothes was icing on the fucking cake.

And you, you… giving him these shy, sweet smiles, the way your lips parted whenever you had looked in his direction, the way you so obviously wanted Marcus to make a move that you were practically vibrating with sexual tension. Dave couldn't possibly be immune to the energy that had been emanating from you for the past day.

Still, the fact that the three of you are currently napping, completely naked in Dave's bed after the best sex he had had in over a year… it's a surprise, to say the least.

Dave slips silently out of bed, not wanting to wake anyone, but when he turns to look back at the two of you, Marcus’s soulful amber eyes are watching him with a mixture of waning suspicion and warmth. Dave gives him a little half-smile and turns to pick his shirt up off the floor.

When he straightens, Marcus is there, having slipped out of bed himself, looking Dave up and down with a little crease on his brow. 

Dave knows what he's looking at without having to ask–the scars. There's the knife wound on his ribcage from his time in Kuwait, the burn scars on his collarbone from a time when he had been briefly captured and pressed for information, the puckered scar on the side of his abdomen that's unmistakably a gunshot wound…

Marcus's fingers find this one–touching it delicately with a small frown. His hand trails around Dave's side to find the matching exit wound in the back.

"You've been through it," Marcus remarks softly, his other hand coming to Dave's chest, fingers catching on the roughened skin of his collarbone. 

"Mm," Dave grunts.

His eyes fall closed as Marcus presses a kiss to the little crescent scar on his shoulder– 

he can't even remember how he had gotten that one. 

"I'm sorry," Marcus murmurs, "I've been an asshole."

"Yes, you have," Dave rumbles.

"Shut up and let me apologize."

"It's fine," Dave assures him, tapping his hand lightly on Marcus’s hip. "I'm gonna go find something for dinner."

"What are you two doing over there?" a soft voice calls out from the bed, and Dave and Marcus turn to look. 

You're propped up on one elbow, the covers down at your waist, exposing your bare chest. You're beautiful. Marcus smiles widely and approaches the bed again, giving you a gentle kiss, and Dave feels off-balance. You and Marcus have a history that Dave isn't part of. He may have been the catalyst to get the two of you to finally say something, he may have reaped some of the benefits in the form of some incredible sex, but after sleeping on it for an hour or so, it doesn't seem as if there's any guarantee that Dave will be included in the future. He has no reservations that forced proximity is what had caused your little tryst. Eventually, the two of you will be able to leave the safe house, and with it, him. 

Shrugging on his shirt and a pair of boxers, Dave mutters something about dinner and ducks out of the room. He fills a glass from the tap and takes a quick sip of water and then simply leans over the sink, his hands clenched on the countertop, trying to breathe. His blood feels as if it’s rushing in his ears, so he doesn’t hear Marcus come up behind him until the man’s hands are on his hips, his mouth pressed to Dave’s shoulder.

"Is this how it's gonna be?" Marcus asks. "Walls back up, just like that?"

"I know what this is," Dave says flatly. "And I know what it's not. I'm not going to get in the way of the two of you."

Marcus snorts, shaking his head. "You don't know shit."

Dave frowns and turns around, another argument at the ready, but before he can say anything, Marcus is taking Dave's face in his hands and kissing him soundly. 

"Shut the fuck up," Marcus whispers against his lips. Dave can feel the shape of them–he's smiling. 

Dave feels a smaller shape slotting against the two of them, and his arm automatically curls around you as you lean against his chest. 

"Tell me this isn't a one-time thing," Marcus says, his eyes searching Dave's. "I need to hear it," he admits, barely audible. 

Of course. Marcus Pike, terrified of rejection, of being alone. Dave remembers reading his file–the man who can't seem to keep a relationship, despite longing for one with every fiber of his being. A man who has a tendency to push people away because he comes on too strong, who falls too fast and loves wholeheartedly–of course he wanted that clarity.

But… Dave? Dave? Marcus shouldn't be searching for answers from Dave. 

Dave doesn't do relationships. He can't. He leaves behind a string of casualties wherever he goes, whether it's the man who literally died in his arms or the ex-wife who had dealt with long absences for work that he could never talk about, but who had finally left after she saw him washing the blood off of his hands after coming home in the middle of the night. 

But two warm bodies are wrapped around him, two sets of hopeful eyes looking at him, and your recent activities are still replaying in his mind, making him soft.

"Not a one time thing," Dave finds himself saying. 

"Good," you whisper, your fingers curling into his shirt as if to keep him there with you. Dave kisses your forehead. "I thought you said you were getting food," you add, and he finds himself smiling into your hair. 

"Hungry, pumpkin?"

"You two tired me out," you say, pouting your lip in a move that should not be as cute as it is.

"Keep wandering around my kitchen in just a shirt and nothing else, and we'll do it again," Dave responds, patting you gently on the bottom before moving away toward the fridge. You giggle and press back against Marcus, who, holding Dave’s eyes with a mischievous smile, lifts up the hem of your shirt a couple of inches to reveal a hint of your mound. You smack his hand playfully and spin away, skipping over to the sink for a glass of water. 

Dinner ends up being two frozen pizzas that the three of you eat on the couch, watching some old movie that Dave doesn't remember the name of, but Marcus had seemed excited about. You are slotted between the two of them, your fingers threaded through Marcus’s while you lean on Dave’s shoulder. It’s alarmingly… domestic. The two of you have very rapidly inserted yourself into Dave’s life–not just as inadvertent houseguests, but as lovers, and the change still feels somewhat jarring. Dave’s life has not been occupied with couch cuddles long before the divorce was finalized, and now he has you slotted against his side while Marcus absentmindedly plays with the hair on the back of his neck with his unoccupied hand, and it’s unnerving how… natural it all feels.

Dave ruminates on this while he stares blankly at the black-and-white figures, not really taking in any of the dialogue or plot, when he feels a drop of moisture on his shoulder. He glances down at you with a little frown and realizes you’re crying silently, tears rolling down your cheek and pooling on the growing damp spot on his undershirt. Dave has no idea what to do about this, no inkling as to the cause, and has always, according to his ex-wife at least, been bad at comforting people. 

“Hey,” he murmurs quietly, rubbing his fingers against your thigh. “Whats, um–”

You startle slightly, furiously scrubbing your cheeks with one hand to try and hide the evidence, but Dave–and Marcus, who’d turned at your sudden movement–are already looking at you with growing concern.

“Sweetheart,” Marcus says softly, and you shake your head dismissively.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “It’s dumb, it really is. Please don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then you can tell us,” Dave challenges, and Marcus glances over at him and gives him a small, affectionate smile at his deadpan response.

“It’s just been a long time since—well, anything like this, and–” you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “And you both already know what the last time was like and it’s–it’s–oh, hell.”

“It’s what?” Marcus asks gently. 

“It’s scary,” you whisper. “I’m fucking scared. Because I really like this and I’m scared of how much I like it, and I’m scared that something will go wrong, or that one of you will leave, or both–” 

Marcus pulls you into his chest with a sigh, and Dave can see your shoulders are still shaking. 

“I can’t speak for both of us,” Marcus says carefully, making eye contact with Dave over your head, “but this is not a temporary thing for me, and I will never hurt you.”

“No,” Dave agrees quickly. “I never will, either. And–” he purses his lips, considering his next words carefully, “–this is new, obviously, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know exactly what this is, but I’m not in the habit of looking for casual arrangements.”

Marcus lets out a shaky breath, the two of them still not breaking their gaze. “It’s like you said earlier,” he says with a small smile. “Life is short. Right?”

“Mm,” Dave agrees. “And I don’t wait for what I want.”

Marcus pulls him in for a fierce hug–of course the two of you are cuddlers–and Dave only hesitates for a minute before winding his arms around both of you.

“I don’t want there to be ‘parts’ to this,” Marcus says quietly into your hair. “It’s the three of us or nothing at all.”

You nod into Marcus’s shirt. “I want that,” you whisper.

Marcus looks at Dave expectantly. 

“Three of us or not at all,” Dave repeats softly.

The declaration causes you to turn from Marcus’s arms and press yourself into Dave’s chest instead with one last sniffle. A wave of fury washes over him that someone had hurt you so badly that you are now afraid to be with anyone else. Dave knows his name, your ex. He knows where he lives. He had been tempted to find the man before all of this happened, and now he’s even more motivated.

“I can make people disappear,” Dave comments, gently stroking your shoulder. “I could find him, you know.”

Marcus shoots him a look.

“What?”

—

"Dave," you murmur, sometime later after the movie has ended and the three of you are back in his bed, your clothes discarded for the second time that night. Dave pulls you back until you're flush with him, his cock pressing insistently against you from behind while Marcus swirls his tongue around your nipple.

“I want–” you begin, letting out another soft gasp as Dave scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, “–both? Can I have–ah–both of you?”

“No,” Dave says gently against your skin, and you whine in disappointment. “Not yet,” he amends. “Not tonight. You’re not ready, it will hurt.”

“We can work up to that,” Marcus agrees, kissing your forehead. “Our pretty girl wants to be filled up by both of us? Hard to refuse,” he teases.

“We will,” Dave promises. “Fuck, we will. But I’m going to guess you’re already a little sore tonight, hmm?”

You give a little noncommittal hum, and Marcus nods. “We’ve got time,” he says softly. “No rush at all. 

"Where do you want us, pumpkin?" Dave asks in your ear, relishing the way your back arches at his voice. "I think I want to be right here." He gently teases a finger between your cheeks to graze your little hole.

"Yeah," you answer breathlessly. "Oh, fuck."

"Makes sense," Marcus says, his eyes full of mischief. "I wouldn't want to hurt her–I'm bigger."

Dave growls and surges up, tackling Marcus to the bed. "Got something to say, you little smart-ass?" he says through gritted teeth.

Dave pins Marcus and wrenches his arms above his head, holding him still. Marcus makes a broken moan at the action, subtly arching his back and lifting his hips, seeking friction on his cock. Got you, Dave thinks, chuckling darkly. 

"I think your partner here has a submissive side to him, pumpkin," he drawls. He runs his nose up Marcus’s jawline, breathing him in, making the other man shiver slightly. "You like being pinned, Agent Pike?"

Marcus laughs breathlessly. "You caught me," he whispers.

Dave shoots you a look. "You heard him," he says. "Sit on his face." 

He pulls back, sitting back on his heels and then moving in between Marcus’s legs. Fuck, he's perfect. His cock is flushed and rock-hard–so hard that Dave can imagine it's aching, and his cock twitches in sympathy. You're only inches from straddling his face, but it's Dave that Marcus is looking at with hooded eyes and parted lips. 

You move to straddle Marcus’s face as Dave had directed, as he slicks a few of his fingers with lube.

"Wait," Dave says, making the both of you groan in frustration. Dave smiles wickedly. "I don't think he really wants it, yet."

"Oh fuck off," Marcus groans, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. 

"Should he beg for it?" you ask, giving Dave a coquettish stare. Oh, you're exquisite. Playing his little game as well as he can. 

"Until you're satisfied he deserves that perfect cunt," Dave agrees. 

"You two are fucking trouble," Marcus growls. 

"You're not doing a very good job of showing her how much you want it," Dave remarks cooly, and he slides a slick finger down Marcus's balls and back, giving him plenty of time to anticipate the moment it breaches him.

"Fuck, please," Marcus groans the minute Dave's finger slips just a centimeter inside him. "Please, baby, I want it so much."

"Who are you begging, tiger?"

"Fuck, both–" Marcus grits out as Dave's index finger bottoms out inside of him. "Baby, c'mere, let me eat that pretty pussy while he–mmff–"

Marcus's begging is cut short by a hard thrust of Dave's finger. 

"What was that, tiger? I don't think she heard you."

"I'll make you feel so good," Marcus murmurs. "I want you to ride my face, I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Dave parrots, a dangerous smile on his face. "Do you hear that, pumpkin? He'll do anything." He adds a second finger, and Marcus whimpers, a sound just this side of pain. Dave stills.

“‘m fine,” Marcus gasps. “I’m good. It’s been… it’s been a while.”

“How long?” Dave asks.

“I dunno,” Marcus shakes his head. “Long time. I–I usually don’t like to not be in control,” he admits.

“Why now?” you ask, smoothing the hair off Marcus’s forehead. 

“Trust you,” Marcus says quietly. His eyes flick to Dave’s. “Both of you.”

Dave doesn’t know how to respond, so instead he slowly pushes his two fingers further in, thrusting them in and out gently as Marcus gasps on the bed.

"Can I do it yet?" you ask Dave with an adorable pout. 

“Think we’ve made him wait long enough, don’t you?” Dave teases.

“Fuck, yes,” Marcus agrees, reaching for you. “Yes, c’mon, sit on my face.”

You move to straddle him, but Dave immediately stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Other way, pumpkin,” he says. “You’re going to watch.”

You bite your lip as you slowly turn around, facing Dave. Marcus immediately grabs your thighs and pulls you down on him, causing your mouth to fall open as he devours you with enthusiasm.

“That’s right,” Dave drawls. “Wanted to see those pretty tits bounce while you ride his face.”

Dave slowly, carefully adds a third finger, taking care not to give Marcus more than he can handle, and Marcus makes a little broken sound into your cunt.

"...And I want you to watch me take apart your little boyfriend here until he forgets his own name," Dave continues.

"Isn't he yours too?" you tease.

"He's about to be."

Dave continues slowly getting Marcus ready. He’s a patient man when he wants to be, deliberately and methodically working the other man open while he licks into you. Finally, when he’s satisfied that it won’t hurt, Dave slicks his cock and lines up, glancing up at you–watching with undisguised lust–and giving you a wicked smile before pushing inside in a slow, steady slide until his hips are flush and his cock deeply seated.

“Fuck, oh my God…” Marcus groans, the words muffled by your skin.

“Don’t stop licking her,” Dave warns. “If you stop, I stop.”

He can see Marcus nod imperceptibly–or rather, he can see your reaction to it when you subtly rock your hips. Despite his posturing, Dave starts slow, taking care to watch for signs of discomfort. Finding none, he starts to relax, fucking into Marcus at a languid pace and reveling in his reactions–the muffled groans, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and the way his knuckles have turned white as they grip your thighs.

You’ll have bruises tomorrow, little fingerprints that Dave will soothe away with his tongue. You don’t seem to mind–you’re gasping and panting yourself, your forehead creased slightly as you focus on the feel of Marcus’s tongue on you, in you. 

“Is he doing a good job, pumpkin?” Dave teases, giving you a wry grin as he starts to thrust a little harder, making Marcus whine softly. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, he–”

Dave snaps his hips roughly into Marcus, and you cry out into the room as the resulting “Oh, fuck–” vibrates against your core. 

“I think she likes it when you make noise, tiger,” Dave teases. “Should I keep doing that? Make you make more noise?”

“Mmhmm,” comes the broken sound from underneath you.

“Make her cum,” Dave commands. “Make her cum and I’ll let you cum.”

You let out a squeal as Marcus pulls you down harder against his mouth and dutifully starts to send you higher. Dave can tell, now–can easily see the signs that you’re about to fall apart.

“Give it to him, pumpkin, he’s working so hard for it,” Dave drawls, not slowing his pace as he watches your mouth fall open with pleasure as the coil finally snaps inside you. You convulse, rocking involuntarily on Marcus’s face, and Dave can tell that the other man is doing everything he can to keep you right there. He wonders if Marcus’s tongue is pressed deep inside you, so that he can feel your walls clench around it…

The minute you do start to flutter around him, Marcus makes an obscenely filthy sound–and Dave is about to wrap his hand around the man’s cock as a reward when it suddenly twitches violently, and Marcus is spilling on his chest with just the feel of Dave’s cock pressing against something devastating inside of him and the feel of you coming undone above him. 

“Oh, shit,” Dave breathes, taken by surprise at the sight of Marcus cumming untouched. It doesn’t take long before Dave follows the two of you, burying himself to the hilt one last time with a groan. 

You scramble off of Marcus and lie beside him on the bed, your wide eyes sweeping over him with a growing smile. Dave pitches forward until he’s resting on his elbows, nose-to-nose with Marcus, his cock still softening inside of him.

“You’re holding out on me, tiger,” Dave teases softly. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know, either,” Marcus says with a breathless laugh. “Never done it before.”

The moment is soft and muted, and Dave allows himself to indulge. Marcus is firm and warm underneath him, his chest still rising and falling more heavily than usual as he comes down. You are lying beside them with sparkling eyes and an amused, but sated smile. 

"That was amazing," you murmur, and Marcus laughs. 

"That's my line," he says, carding his hand through Dave's hair and pulling him down for a kiss.

Marcus makes a soft sound of discomfort when Dave leaves, which he soothes with another quick kiss before leaving to clean up. 

When he returns, you and Marcus are wrapped around each other, trading kisses and smiles and talking in low voices. Before more seeds of doubt are sewn in Dave's mind, though, both of you turn at the sound of him coming back and he's met with two brilliant twin smiles. 

Marcus gets up, and with a wry smile and a wink, says "I'll be right back. Keep her warm for me, huh?"

Dave obediently slides into bed next to you and takes you into his arms–unconsciously mirroring yours and Marcus's positions. 

"Hi," you whisper. 

"Hey," he responds, matching your volume.

"I didn't really expect this," you say, biting your lip nervously.

"Me neither," Dave admits truthfully. 

"Is it okay?" 

"More than," he answers, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

"Did you want this from the beginning?" you ask sweetly.

Dave chuckles. "Not exactly," he admits. "I thought I was going to be going after two old men, and then I opened your files," he says, staring into the middle distance over your head. "And I was met with two of the most fucking gorgeous FBI Agents I've ever seen."

You laugh, pushing at his chest playfully. 

"I was surprised," Dave rumbles. "Even more so when you did exactly the opposite of what I had asked. People don't usually do that."

"We're bad at taking orders," Marcus interrupts with a smile from the foot of the bed. 

"That isn't how it looked five minutes ago," you quip, making Dave throw his head back and laugh–something he rarely did.

Marcus climbs in behind you and pulls you back flush against him with a dangerous chuckle. "Don't throw stones," he teases. "I get the feeling you don't care which one of us ends up on top as long as someone does."

"I think she prefers it to be me," Dave interjects, raising his eyebrows in contest.

"I said no such thing," you accuse, giving Dave the cutest frown. 

"You didn't need to," Dave deadpans. The way you're staring at him, Dave can almost believe his boasting–you're looking at him as if he'd hung the stars, and Dave's heart skips a beat at the affection in your expression.

"I was right," Marcus says with a sigh. "You two really are trouble."

[alwaysdjarin]

Unholy

a Dave York x f!reader Series

Part 3 - Spencer

RATING: Explicit 18+ ONLY. No Minors Please. My work is 18+.

Warnings: Dave York always comes with his own warning, soft!Dave, strip clubs, mentions of cancer (readers mum), infidelity, sugar daddy Dave???, a little bit of angst & hurt/comfort (please tell me if I forgot something)

Words: ~2.3k

A/N: ok here we go again. :-D Have fun and tell me what you think about these two.

previous part / Series masterlist || series taglist

You can’t see him when you’re on stage. The headlights blind you, so you’re not able to see more than the guys who are standing directly in front of the stage. You recognize some regulars and a small group of friends, probably a bachelor party.

But you can feel his eyes on your body, dark brown orbs that observe you and it almost burns on your skin.

You try to get the thoughts of the mysterious man waiting for you on the bar out of your head and focus on your work instead.

Wearing a black leather bra and thong with a lot of silver buckles, overknee heels and cute little cat ears, you’re everyone’s dream tonight. Your makeup is strong with a lot of black around your eyes and perfect for the show. A show that’s exactly what this is for you. Eye candy for the men, money for you. And so you start to overthink why you have been so stupid to agree to go for a drink with the stranger. He probably saw you dancing a few times and is blinded by your appearance on stage and will quickly get bored of your real personality. It’s always like that.

Stop overthinking!

You’re dancing for at least an hour, showing some acrobatic moves on the pole or move to the edge of the stage to satisfy the patrons who can’t wait to stick some money into your pants.

When the show is over, you disappear behind the stage, freshen up as best as you can and remove the makeup from around your eyes. You change back into your leggings and oversized shirt and let your hair open.

2 hours later

You find yourself sitting at ‘Stacey’s’ - a cute little Diner a few blocks away from your apartment. Dave York, the handsome stranger across from you.

He seems to be a very nice guy, the kind of men who opens the door for you, who holds your hand to help you out of his (very impressive) black Audi, the kind of men you’ve never met before if you’re honest.

The conversation between you two flows easily, Dave is very interested in you. And so it comes that you tell him about your life. That you wanted to be a professional dancer, having your own dance school. But life isn’t always easy and after your mom died because of cancer and your dad’s living in an other state, you took the best job you could get to pay your bills. That’s how you ended up in the strip club and never took the chance to fulfill your dreams.

“But it’s not that bad. I like my job, really.” You feel his dark brown eyes study you, brows high.

“Yeah, I believe you. I mean there’s nothing bad about your job. I didn’t want to offend you. I was just curious.”

Dave could see the shining in your eyes, when you talked about your dream of an own dancing school. He imagines you teaching his little girls ballet, the perfect curves of your body in a tight leggings, sweat running down your clavicle. No poor guys who stare at your almost naked body on the stage of a strip club. No, you would be protected from the greedy stares surrounded by children who adore you. He would be the only one to worship your body, the only one who lays his eyes on you.

The clearing of your throat pulls him out of his thoughts, you obviously caught him staring. “And you? What do you do for a living?”

Dave thinks about his answer for a moment. This is the part of the conversation where he always lies. But he can’t lie to you. His jaw clenches. Fuck, why can he not lie to you?

“I’m on business trips often…carry out orders for different clients. I have a team with me, three men.” He tries to explain without revealing too much.

“So you’re a freelancer!?” You assume.

“Kind of…” He replies.

You like Dave. You don’t know why, but something on him is addictive. It's easy to notice that he's always hiding something. That he's trying to be honest and open, but something is stopping him. You’ve studied his features the last hours, the little pout when he’s listening to something you’re telling him, the tickling of his jaw when he’s thinking and apparently not sure how to respond, the frown on his face when you say something he doesn’t like to hear, like stories about disrespectful customers, men who doesn’t know their limits.

He’s gorgeous you think to yourself. But then your eyes flicker to his hands and you’re seeing the golden ring. You’ve eyed the glimmering piece the whole night and it reminds you painfully that Dave York is just as all the other men you get to know in your line of work.

You’re gulping, not longer able to ignore the obvious. “So Dave, does your wife know that you’re here? With me?” it blurts out of you and you notice directly that this question caught him off guard.

His eyes shoot to his wedding band and then he smirks. He’s really smirking at you after you mentioned his wife? He looks at your lips and you feel something in the air between you two change.

“She’s out of town for the weekend.” His voice is low and thick and you know directly in which direction this part of the night should go, when you give him what he wants.

You can’t hide the disappointment in your face, when you realize that he’s in fact just like every other guy and you wasted your time tonight.

“Okay listen…” you speak while you rummage through your bag for your wallet “I like you, I REALLY do. And it’s okay, you’re not the first married man who wants to spend a night with me-“ Dave opens his mouth, visibly shocked by your presumption, but you hold your hand up to stop him. “-but I’m not…I’m NOT doing this kind of shit.” You shake your head and dare to look into his eyes. He frowns, trying to understand what you think of him. You go on “I trust you, so…if you want to, you can come to the club anytime you want and I’ll give you a private dance. It’s ok for me. Just let’s keep this…relationship on a business level. ” You lay cash for your food and drinks on the table and stand up. “I…I have to go. Have a good night Dave.” You smile politely at him, tears lining your eyes, unable to cover the disappointment. And then you rush out of the Diner, before the first tear runs down your face.

Dave is behind you within seconds, calling your name. You close your eyes before you slowly turn to face him.

He studies your broken expression and swears this sight breaks something deep in his chest. He should have known what you assume about him, spending his Friday night with you, a girl he met at a strip club and wearing his fucking wedding ring the whole time. But it’s more than this, he knows that and he is aware that he only has one chance to make this clear to you here and now.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly while you wipe the tears from your cheeks and it takes everything in him not to touch you.

You nod. “It’s okay Dave, really. I should know by now that men always-“ But he interrupts you this time.

“No! Not that!” He wipes his hand across his face, scratching at his chin. “I’m sorry that I made you think that I just want to have sex with you. I’m sorry that I didn’t make my intentions clear. And most of all I’m sorry that I made you cry.”

You frown. “Your intentions? You’re a married man in a strip club who’s having a date with one of the dancers.”

He smirks to lighten up the mood between you two. “This was a date?” And you nod, slightly annoyed. “For me…yes.”

Dave takes a step closer to you, his body now inches away. You can smell him and it’s like a drug that flows through your whole body, eats you up from the inside. You close your eyes to not to look into his brown orbs, you can feel him looking at you, his breath hits your face and his fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Let me take you on a real date.” He whispers and you tremble slightly while you bite your lower lip. “Let me show you that I’m not like the others. Let me give you what you deserve. Let me take care of you.” You can barely hear his words, but they’re there.

His hand is now lying on the side of your face, your eyes still closed while his other hand finds the other side of your face. “I’m not a homewrecker Dave.” Your voice is small, trembling.

Daves nose touches yours and you suck in a breath. The tension between you two is unbearable and you feel like you’re floating.

“I know you’re not. You’re too good for me sweetheart.” The grip on your head tightens and you know what follows. You feel his plush lips featherlight against yours. “Tell me to stop and you’ll never see me again.” His whisper into your mouth makes you weak and you finally give in.

Dave lips are soft against yours and you’re not sure if anyone ever kissed you like this. It’s slow and sensual. He gives you time to let go and relax into him. You’re still not touching him, hands by your sides formed into fists.

Dave breaks the kiss and you look into his eyes. He decides to give you time, you’re more sensible than he thought and he doesn’t want to scare you off. “Let’s get you home sweetheart.”

~*~*~*~*~

The drive to your home is short and silent. Dave opens the door to help you out of his car and escorts you to your front door.

“I know it sounds unconventional but I mean what I said. Let me take care of you, let me show you what your worth is. Maybe I can help you to fulfill your dream, dancing queen.”

Your body feels like you’re on fire. God you want him. Dave York has you in a chokehold and you want to know more about him, want to find out what his little secrets are, hell you even want to fuck him.

You hesitate for a second. “But your wife…I…I…”

He makes a step in your direction, enters your private space like it’s nothing and you’re lost. Your back hits your door while his hand is on your head again, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t worry about my wife.” A kiss to your forehead. “Don’t worry about anything sweetheart.” Another kiss. “You even don’t need to sleep with me.” Kiss. “God, I just want to see you happy.” Kiss.

You tilt your head up to look into his eyes. “…like a sugar daddy thing?” You frown. You’ve heard about the concept a few times but never considered this kind of relationship for yourself.

Dave smirks again and you appreciate the little crinkles around his eyes. “Call it whatever you want.” His thumb is still caressing your face. “Just let me into your life and we will see. We will figure it out.”

You nod. “Okay then. I’ll think about it.”

The intimate moment between you two is interrupted, when you both hear a rumble in your apartment. Dave lays his arm protective around your waist and pulls you away from the door in one smooth movement. You appreciate his reaction, but shake your head laughing.

“I think I have to introduce you to someone.”

Dave frowns when you open the door and something rushes towards him. It takes him a second to realize what’s happening, but then he’s head over heels. There’s a chubby white-brown bulldog wiggling between his legs, happy to see Dave like he knows him for years. Dave goes down on one knee to greet the dog, he loves bulldogs since he was a kid and now YOU - you of all people - have one. Carol never wanted to have a dog.

“It seems like Spencer loves you!” You smile down at the two and your heart swells at the view. Dave York cuddling your dog with a honest smile on his face.

“I…god I love bulldogs.” Dave stands up and smiles at you.

“Seems like we have something in common.” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, not sure what the next step will be.

But Dave knows exactly what to do. He looks you deep in the eyes, the invisible connection between you two is back again and his deep baritone lets a shiver run down your spine.

“Okay sweetheart, you need to rest now. Take your time to think about the things I offered you.”

And this time it’s you who closes the distance between the two of you. Your hands are on his chest and your lips on his within seconds. Daves hands found your hips and it takes all of your strength to not pull him into your apartment. You can’t. You’ll think about everything what happened in the last hours, but for now you enjoy the plush lips on yours and the scent of the best drug you’ve ever heard of: Dave York.

Part 4

Thanks for reading! 🫶🏼

I’d love to read your comments or reblogs if you like my writing.

[wtpb-rcp]

Masterpost

So...I have no idea what to put much here, besides this introduction.

Hello there, people! This is a blog that would showcase anything related to the "When The Past Bites" AU, an RCP AU where someone is working behind the scenes to screw another's life entirely, memories went forgotten and then remembered, and there's a personal war based on revenge...all due to rejection. However, the reason for the rejection is of the past, but its consequences are felt up to this present day.

The thing is, lots of timelines branched off this less-than-PG Robocar Poli AU, but we're not gonna talk about that for now, besides the TWs.

As for TWs, it's:

-Potential depictions of violence and blood

-Mentions, references, implications and showcasing of serious topics like various crimes, death, and homophobia

-Homophobia by itself

-Swearing...a LOT

-Poor attempts in body horror

-Your RCP blorbos are now traumatized (especially Helly...)

Any fanart/comic/headcanon/writing feature will be tagged with #WTPB-stuff, followed by a letter like -f=fanart, -c=comic, -h=headcanon and -w=writing.

This blog would also soon serve as an ask blog which contents would be soon found in #WTPB-ask. Note that in this tag, I (it's Dave now bitches) would be RPing in-character, so respect that if you will.

There will also be an info tag in #WTPB-info where reference sheets, lore (differs from headcanon as this would be fleshed out contents about the world, dynamics, origins, etc.), and more of that category will be saved.

And lastly, #WTPB-announcements is for...well...you know.

"But Dave, where can we ask?"

Hold it there. I'm trying to make a custom theme to utilize the ask blog. But the thing is, the linear canon #WTPB-ask would follow will first use link for secret messaging, and as a result everyone asking would be an anon by default unless you specified your own names.

"How's that Poli-related lore story?"

Still figuring out what to do with it. After all, RCP isn't my only fandom, let alone the one I'm most active in...

"Polroy when"

Bold of you to assume I ship (Yes, I do. But anything romance is gonna be slowburns...lots of them. Doesn't help that 1/2 of the Rescue Team are aspec...)

"Can we send magic anons?"

NOPE NOPE NOPE. Mostly because I still don't know how to utilize them, not because I hate them. Plus let me tell you this:

#WTPB-ask will be an ask blog centered in a chatlog through a special tablet. It isn't characters talking directly into the 4th wall. A physical device will complicate magic anons.

Edit: Any non-WTPB RCP content will be tagged under #RCP-stuff. That includes AUs that doesn't have the WTPB-exclusive OCs.

Edit 2: Just in case, but pls be respectful of me when doing an OOC/Author-directed ask.