#dave york coded | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

exquisiteserotonin · 8 months

Text

Footsteps to Follow

Part 2: Show Me How

Series Summary: The loss of a loved one lasts forever and every person finds different ways to heal.

Pairing: Romantic Pairing will eventually be Foodtruck Owner! Joel x Alice, but nonromantic pairing is Dave York and his daughter Alice.

Warnings: MATURE, 18+ ONLY, please. No smut here, but A LOT of angst and sadness, death and violence, human trafficking of minors

Word Count: ~2.7K

A/N: This is going to be a slow burn, I have a clear idea of where this is going. I hope you enjoy and hope you are patient and will stick with me for the payout of this story. It's fast becoming my baby <3 Also a HUGE, HUGE shoutout to one of my besties @imalrightllama who gave me an idea for a certain image in this part.

Also I don't know French I only put one word of it in here, Désolé, and it means excuse me.

Thank you so much to my magical sluts for encouraging me with this! <3 I'm so glad you love Alice as much as I do.

@imalrightllama @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @basicoccult @blueheat1-blog1 @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @arcanefox207

The morning light floated softly through the air, touching the apartments, cafes, and offices that stood alongside the cobblestone streets. It shimmered against the fresh, clean morning dew that mixed with the aroma of viennoiserie and coffee from cafes that stood like guards at nearly every street corner. Alice sat in a pretty, metal cafe chair stirring in the small splash of milk in her coffee. She dipped the last bit of croissant she had left into her coffee; part of the blackberry jam she had spread on it fell into the bottom of the cup. She swirled the last bit of coffee in her mug before bringing it to her lips. The last bit was always her favorite. The sweet taste and light tartness from the jam was a perfect companion to the bitterness of the coffee.

If it weren’t for the job, she could enjoy her time here more. She rose from her quiet spot near the front door of the cafe. She walked along quiet morning streets as market vendors began setting up their different produce, wares, and textiles. The streets were beginning to become less crowded the closer you approached the seedier part of town, the part of town no tourists were ever supposed to visit after dark. Alice glanced at her reflection in the shoppe windows she walked alongside. She could almost pass for a locale, with a pair of sensible, but fashionable straight legged jeans and navy blue and cream-colored striped sweater. The only part that was unrecognizable was the blonde colored wig she donned on her head. But just like her clothes, the style of it blended well with every other French girl who still had shaggy layers and bangs reminiscent of Brigitte Bardot.

Alice’s strides became smaller as the sidewalk became more crowded with people and refuse. As she walked through the growing crew of pedestrians, she lost her footing when she was jolted off balance by a passerby.

“Désolé,” she murmured.

Looking up through her sunglasses, she noticed a girl not more than fourteen, wearing a short form-fitting black dress, disheveled and confused. She was flanked by two tall and burly men with thick, dark hair atop their square heads.

The Corsicans, she thought to herself.

They were doing a fair job trying to keep her steady but hidden from any unwanted attention. Their attempts were nowhere near the skill level with which Alice blended in with the crowd, unassuming and unthreatening. Alice stole into a small grocery store watching as the two men hoisted the limp girl up the stairs of a perfectly ordinary-looking apartment building across the perfectly ordinary street.

The next part was always the easiest and quickest for her. Floating her way through adjoining terraces and rooftops was akin to taking the lead in a lazy pas de deux, where all she had to do was pirouette, jump, and throw her dance partner around. Their arrogance of leaving a window near the rooftop allowed her to slink in silently. Another girl, not more than fifteen, lay limp on a bed, alive in body but barely in spirit. She wanted to take them away one by one from this life they had been forced into with the promise of comfort and wealth.

The targets are your priority. She heard her mentor’s voice in her head. Distractions will get you killed.

A silencer covered gun in one gloved hand and a knife in the other, she danced her way through. Guns to heads and knives to throats, it took less than 10 minutes. For a moment she thought one of the burly thugs had laughed at her size. It was his mistake. He was dead with a stab to the throat before he could even aim his gun at her. One last target awaited and expected her, having heard his associates fall like dominoes before him. He was holding the girl you had seen earlier unsteadily in his hands.

“One wrong move and her mother won’t even recognize her body to identify her,” the gangster roared at her in French.

She didn’t even need the time it took her brain to translate what he said to English for her bullet to strike him between the eyes. Alice was able to look at the girl’s face as she knelt in front of her grabbing a nearby towel wiping the blood she had spilled gingerly from her face as much as she could. She examined her body for any trauma that might need immediate medical attention. Alice’s inner brows were raised with disappointment and sadness. If she could, she’d stay and tend to the girls to make sure they were safe, but she wasn’t keen on blowing her cover and ending up dead like the mobsters she’d just killed. Instead, she reached into her pocket for her phone and dialed the number of the local police. She gave them the address as she escaped the way she came in, barely a scratch on her. With the agility of a cat, she crept through the open terrace window of a nearby apartment, grabbing a brown sweater from the coat hanger by the door without anyone turning a head or batting an eye. Just in time to hear the two-toned sirens of the police, she was already walking far away from the scene and discarding her blonde wig.

Alice climbed the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment building to Room 603, her safe house. Rope thin gaps between the curtains allowed threads of light to peek into the otherwise dark and sparsely decorated apartment.

“You should have been here five minutes ago,” she heard a quiet voice of a woman say.

“I had to take care of something,” Alice said to the figure hidden in shadows sitting in the lone modern chair tucked off to the left side of the room.

Alice swiftly made her way to the bathroom, yanking off her sweater and tossing it onto the floor. The figure, her handler, followed behind her.

“Wait,” her handler said as she approached her, “let me look at you.”

Her handler stepped close, placing her hands to her face with a gentle touch as she examined her face and neck. Alice’s eyes shifted to a small tattoo on the inside of her handler’s left wrist. She allowed herself a moment to study its impeccable design. Dots, lines, and shading revealed the delicate design of a firefly.

“You got nicked,” her handler stated, her eyes narrowing with her examination as her voice quivered with something that sounded like concern.

“Stop looking at me like you care,” Alice slapped her handler’s hand away. “You’re not my mother.”

“Because your mother was so good at that.”

“Are we done here?” Alice asked, turning on the shower.

“Don’t get sloppy, Alice,” Firefly said. “Don’t get soft; don’t get killed.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Your father would---,” she continued.

“Stop,” Alice interjected, the corners of her lips twitching, “you don’t get to do that.”

“Fine,” she let out a shallow breath before setting down a carefully folded paper sleeve on the nightstand. “Your plane tickets. Flight leaves in 3 hours.”

“Got it.”

Alice looked at her, her expression unmoving as she strode away to leave. Firefly turned to her one more time before walking out the door. Her eyes were glassy, and her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly before she pressed her lips together. The way her brows had softened, her eyes rounded and open, and the way her shoulders slowly slumped caught Alice off guard. In response, she pressed her shoulders back and knit her brows together wondering what her handler could possibly say next.

“Don’t get killed…please.”

Before Alice could respond, she was gone.

When she returned to the bathroom, she looked in the mirror before getting into the shower and examined the scratch. Her breath escaped her lips with a fast huff when she saw a small trickle of dried blood on her neck. With a tight squeeze of her eyes, she turned away from her reflection and found her way to the shower, letting the warm water rain on her. An invisible tightness began to lodge itself in the back of her throat at the realization that if one of the targets had just been able to dig the knife a little deeper or slash at her a little bit closer, she would be dead.

It would have been easy to dwell further on her tiny errors, instead she focused on washing her kills off her body and getting out of Paris. She moved like being propelled by the fastest and most efficient motor. Without checking her watch, she knew she had made it to the airport and through security with sufficient enough time that she wasn’t wringing her hands waiting for her section to be called for seating.

A clear voice sounded over the PA system for her section to begin boarding. She sat comfortably in her seat, surprised that Firefly had secured the premium economy section. The hum of the cabin had Alice staring hypnotically out the window. She shook her head, determined not to let sleep settle over her. Fighting against the hypnosis, she buckled her seatbelt and tightened it. She shuffled her feet underneath her and adjusted the air vent, so it blasted her directly with its cold air. Listening intently to the routine safety procedures given to her by the flight attendants couldn’t even keep her eyelids from growing heavy. By the time the aircraft rumbled and ascended into the air, Alice had lost her private fight against falling asleep.

***

A soft, warm haze surrounded Alice as she found herself in an empty room. The walls glowed with gentle orange, coral, and pink light that touched the walls like watercolors on an empty canvas. With cautious steps, Alice breathed in her surroundings trying to make sense of the warm but empty space where she stood.

A voice called out to her that seemed to be coming, impossibly, from all directions.

“Hi baby,” she heard a low familiar voice call to her.

With a gasp that leapt from her heart to her throat, Alice gasped and spun around. Tears started to escape from the corners of her eyes. Standing before her was her father wearing a light blue dress shirt and black slacks: the last outfit she remembered seeing him in. A gentle breeze lightly caressed the strands of his soft brown hair. Every feature of his face was imprinted in her brain, from the way lines formed on his forehead when he lifted his brows, to the way a dimple showed itself on the right side of his face when his smile was especially big. It didn’t matter how young she was when she last saw him, his face was impossible to forget.

A deep exhale rushed out of her mouth at the sight of him. It was all that could come out in place of the words that she wanted so desperately to say.

“Looking for me, Al?” he said as he studied her with soft, round eyes, his hands resting gently and open at his sides.

“I’m always looking for you, dad,” she was finally able to say, her voice barely coming out louder than a whisper from the tightness in her chest.

Her shoulders rose and fell as he reached his arms out to her. With one swift movement, he enveloped her in his arms, and she felt like she was seven years old again. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and tears began to slip continuously from her eyes down the curve of her face. The curve of her parted lips trembled as she clutched the back of her father’s shirt, gripping it tighter like if she did, he might stay.

“I miss you so much, daddy,” she sobbed.

“I know Al, me too,” the way he breathed into her hair as he murmured the words was so warm and so palpable. “It’s almost time for me to go again.”

“No please, dad, please don’t go,” Alice pleaded through her tears.

“Oh Ali-girl,” he sighed as he comforted her.

She felt him drifting further and further away from her like smoke in the wind.

“You’re going to be OK; I need you to be OK.”

His voice became stern for a moment and rough like gravel at those words.

“Please,” she begged as each clutch she made to keep him with her failed.

“Al, please listen, I need you to take care of yourself,” he said, using his turn to beg with one last kiss to her forehead. “Love you, kiddo.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Alice awoke with a wet face and eyes red and puffy from her tears that found a way from her dreams to the real world. She pressed the back of her right hand to her face, allowing your skin to soak in your tears and attempting to hide her face from anyone who might see. She remained awake but lost herself in the hum of the cabin, feeling an invisible haze wrap itself around her body as she stared at the upper left corner of the in-flight magazine resting in the back pocket of the seat in front of her.

“Ma’am…ma’am, excuse,” she heard a shrill voice begin to break through her haze, “ma’am!”

She turned bewildered, still noticing how puffy her eyes were from her tears. An older woman in the seat next to her turned to the flight attendant---the owner of the shrill voice---and glared at her with narrow eyes and the center of her eyebrows angled downward towards one another.

“Can’t you tell that she’s not in the mood?” The woman replied to the attendant.

Still frozen inside her own thoughts, Alice watched as the woman next to her and the flight attendant rallied back and forth with a controlled heat behind their respective words. The flight attendant walked away with barely audible huff. When the woman turned back to her the lines around her eyes had softened and the corners of her lips were curled up into a small and gentle smile.

“Thank you,” Alice said quietly, “that was really kind of you.”

“Well, I hope someone would have done the same for me,” she responded. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine---I’m just---tired,” Alice sighed.

“Well, if you need sleep the rest of the way,” the woman added, “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

“That’s alright, I’m actually trying to stay awake,” Alice replied, “I’m just super eager to get home.”

She could tell the woman was trying to read the emotions that were so obviously written on her face. It was almost laughable to think that she could hide everything and anything she was in a city of nearly twelve million people, but she couldn’t disguise her feelings from a kind stranger in the confined space of an airplane.

“Well, I will let you rest,” the woman responded, giving her yet another gift of silence and the space to swim in her emotions, “but if you need anything, let me know.”

Alice nodded as she reached into the pocket of her blazer. Resting in her hands was her keychain. It was lavender in color and in the shape of a vintage motel keychain. Her fingers traced over the sides of it, the tips of it reading the script along with her eyes. “New Hampshire” is what it read before she had scratched out the final syllable and covered it with beige washi tape. She traced over the tape with a light touch, a smile slowly blossomed on her lips, somehow filled with both melancholy and love as she studied where she had carefully written on it with a fine tip sharpie marker.

New Hamster.

She took one deep breath through her nose and let it out in a slow, quivering exhale. With the keychain safely tucked into the palm of her right hand, she managed to stay awake for the rest of the flight home.

#juice collective #juice bar collective #dave york #original female character #alice york #murder daughter #angst #this series makes me cry while I write it #look up the area code 603

31 notes · View notes

pennyserenade · 2 years

Photo

parallels: dave york + j.j. hunsecker / “ you spare me the righteous bullshit, alright? you do what you have to do and you move on ” ( equalizer 2 ) / “ son, i don't relish shooting a mosquito with an elephant gun, so why don't you just shuffle along? ” ( sweet smell of success )

#dave york you're so jj coded #goodbye inspo.#kings of hard looks and betraying those who would've moved mountains for you

0 notes

absurdthirst · 6 months

Text

Dirty Secrets {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Suspicions of infidelity, thoughts of murder (It's Dave 🤷🏼‍♀️), invasion of privacy, bondage, derogatory language, thigh slapping, plugs, double penetration, cum play, vaginal sex, anal fingering, mentions of fisting.

Comments: You're hiding something, possibly an affair. Sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night and changing your passwords. Your husband, Dave York, is going to get to the bottom of what is going on.

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

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

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

Dave’s jaw clenches, nearly breaking from the force as the door creeps open slowly, the urge to speak, to let you know that he is awake and aware of you sneaking back into the bed is strong. This bitch….It’s not a very nice thing to think about you, the woman that is his wife, but it's justified. Instead, he stays still, keeping his breathing even as the covers shuffle and the slight jostle of the mattress indicates that you are climbing back into the bed. Thinking that he is still asleep and you are not bothering him.

You’re cheating on him. It’s the natural conclusion that all of your latest changes in behaviors lead to and it sits in Dave’s craw like a festering wound. He’s never cheated on you. Not once. Not when pretty, fresh faced interns look at him like he’s a fucking God as he walks around the DIA hall, eager to get his coffee or do anything else he would want, including getting on their knees for him. Not when he’s out of town - fuck, out of the country - on business where you would never find out.

His wedding ring has stayed on his finger and his cock has stayed zipped up in his pants. Looking wasn’t a crime, at least not in his opinion and Dave York likes to look. But he never once crossed a line into what would break your heart or his wedding vows.

It’s galling, infuriating, that he would be faithful and attentive, as much as he can be when he has a high pressure job with frequent travel, two little girls who want daddy’s attention when he gets home, and a honey-do list that never ends and you would cheat on him. He had thought that the two of you were building a future, working as a team to have the life that the two of you talked about when you were dating. It seemed as if the stars were finally aligning.

It had started small, something that he had originally overlooked. Your passcode on your phone had changed. Needing to get into the damn thing to look at the dance recital schedule you had forgotten to text him, he had frowned when the code you had for as long as you’ve had a smartphone hadn’t worked. He had almost asked you for the new one, thinking you had just changed it but something had told him to stay quiet.

That was when he started watching you. Carefully observing the body language and your habits that were as well known to him as his own. You don’t live with someone without knowing them and their routines. Not unless you just don’t give shit.

You were on your phone a lot more. Biting your lip to smother your grin as you type away furiously. Phone tilted away from him as the two of you sat on the couch together. Not angled enough to be dramatically noticeable but enough that he couldn’t see what you were writing, or to whom.

Then there was your laptop. Another changed password that he discovered this time when he deliberately went to log in. Making him scowl at the screen for a moment as he contemplates smashing the damn thing in a fit of anger.

When you were on the computer, if he came home or entered the room without alerting you, you would practically slam the lid shut when you noticed him. Jumping guiltily and rushing away from the damning evidence of your infidelity to kiss him.

He’s poured over the cell phone bill. Looking for a pattern of numbers that you have recently started dialing but there’s nothing glaringly obvious. It would take but a moment to crack into your phone if he really wanted to and it’s coming to that now.

You had slipped out of bed nearly an hour ago. One hour downstairs while you communicated with whoever you had met. Who the hell were you cheating on him with? Why were you cheating? What wasn’t he doing to fulfill your needs? No, he didn’t always bring you flowers or chocolates when he was coming home from trips, but he tried to make time for date nights, arranging for the next door neighbors daughter to watch the girls so he could take you out.

He fucked you often. Even if it was a quickie in the shower before the girls got up and the chaos of the morning started. He would never have said that your sex life was lacking, even if it had slipped into the comfortable routine that time brings rather than the thrill of something new. He had assumed that was normal, but apparently it wasn’t good enough for you.

You flip and flop for a moment, your sighs soft and Dave opens his mouth in the dark. Nearly confronting you and demanding to know what the fuck you are doing. He feels you freeze, obviously sensing him ‘stir’ since you thought he was asleep, but Dave just gives a small snuffle and adjusts his position before he falls silent again. Feeling you move again a few moments later after you feel like he would have fallen back into a deep circadian rhythm.

“I love you.” The words are whispered in the dark, not meant for Dave to actually hear them but he wonders exactly who those words are for.

****

He should feel guilty about lying to you. Telling you that he was going to be late coming home from work tonight, but he actually has no plans on going to work today. He’s used a rare sick day, often only taking them if the girls were sick. He would and could video conference from the home office if he needs to, instead of making you take off from work. That way it wasn’t unbalanced since you would have to care for them if he was out of town.

Instead, he leaves like he normally does, guiding the car around the neighborhood and parking down the street where you wouldn’t notice him. Watching for when you and the girls leave for the day so he can go back to the house.

Eyes narrowing as he watches you herd the two children - his children that you had birthed - into the car and climb in. The expensive SUV that you had insisted that you didn’t really need but Dave had wanted you to have. The safety rating was top notch and it had given him peace of mind. There are plenty of unfortunates in the world he lives in, the one that he had hoped you and the girls would never experience, and he hadn’t wanted his wife and children to be in anything but the best.

It’s insulting, he’s decided. He knows you know what he does. It’s unspoken, but it’s there. You know about his time in the military, you met him right before that fucking building came down on him and the team. You helped patch him back together, figuratively and literally. Your beautiful smile and promises of more exciting activities once he had recovered had fueled him through hours of painful physical therapy. He had seen the flash of understanding when he announced he had been offered a position in the DIA. There is a reason you kiss him like it might be the last time every time he goes out of town. You know what he is.

So it’s demeaning that you would believe that you were capable of fooling him. To think that you could outsmart someone who pulled people’s lives apart for a living. He had more experience lying that you could ever imagine but he had never thought he would be lying to you.

Cameras and security systems are already disabled, not wanting to alert you to him coming back home as he pulls into the driveway. His teeth nearly grind to pieces as he shuts the door to his car and tries to look nonchalant as he walks up the walkway. As if he’s forgotten something rather than searching for the trigger to implode his marriage.

He might kill the man. Seriously. He might kill the man who has touched his wife when he learns who it is. He’s morally gray enough to not lose sleep over it and have a sense of pride at ridding the world of the man who had ruined his children’s life. Because while he would never touch you in anger, things between the two of you would be over. No amount of couple’s counseling would ever allow him to trust you again.

Your laptop is sitting in the kitchen, obviously where you had left it last night. He stares at it for a good three minutes, brooding and blood hammering through his veins until he has to take a couple of slow, measured breaths to calm himself down.

Once he sits down and opens the device, it takes less than five minutes to get into it. He wasn’t exactly setting a speed record but there was some hesitancy in his fingers as he poured through the possible passwords you might use. In the end, it is the girl’s birthday and it makes him huff in disbelief as the screen changes into your screensaver - a picture of you and him wrapped up on the couch and smiling. Dave ignores it and opens your browser to check the history. “What have you been up to, baby?” He sneers, eyes hard as he starts to dig through your computer.

****

“Come on girls.” Surprised to find Dave’s car in the driveway, since he had said he would be home late, you pull into the driveway and park. Your plans change with him home now and that makes you huff slightly to yourself. It’s not that you were disappointed that he was home, you would never feel that way, but you had been looking forward to a couple of hours on your computer without interruption once the girls went to bed. It was hard to find time that wasn’t interrupted nowadays.

“Girls!” Dave comes out of the house, smiling widely as they tear off towards him, happily yelling ‘daddy!’ as only they can - at ear splitting volumes. You are slower, taking your time and gathering the backpacks along with your own bag out of the car before you close it up and hit the locks.

He scoops them up, making them laugh and squeal when he kisses their cheeks and necks playfully. Juggling them in his arms in a routine that always makes them happy.

“Well this is a surprise.” You offer, smiling at the scene. “We were expecting to see you in the morning, weren’t we girls?”

It might be your imagination but Dave’s eyes flicker with something dark before he nods. “Plans changed.” He tells you, shrugging slightly as if it’s no big deal. “Now girls, Rebecca is going to watch you two tonight. You’re going to have a sleepover at her house.”

Frowning in confusion, you watch as the girls cheer and hug him before throwing themselves from his arms and practically flying across the manicured lawn towards the neighbors house. You huff when they don’t even look back. “Bye!” you call out sarcastically at them only to receive halfhearted waves from the neighbors porch. They love sleepovers with Rebecca, apparently more than their mom.

“Why is Reb-”

“Inside.” Your eyes widen slightly and your stomach clenches at the way the word is growled at you. Turning to find Dave already marching back up the steps to go into the open front door of your house.

Slightly alarmed, you hurry after him only to have him quickly close the door and the click of the lock sounds louder than it is. Like the proverbial cell slamming shut and you find that your pulse has sped up.

“Dave, what’s going on?” You demand, hanging up the girl’s bags and your purse before you move to take their water bottles into the sink. Feeling him trailing after you like a dark spector. It makes you worry, wondering what the hell has gone wrong that Dave needs to send the kids away and immediately lock the door. Turning, you find him watching you almost like he's trying to figure out what your secrets are.

He doesn’t speak, making you squirm slightly and you feel your skin start to burn under the intensity of his gaze. It’s as if he’s…waiting.

The thing is, you know what Dave does. You’ve never gotten into the specifics of what all his job entails, but there have been bruises, cuts, signs of a skirmish. You know your husband is completely capable of handling his shit. And yet, he’s never once raised a hand to you, or even raised his voice really. Not in anger. Dave is wound tight at times, but he doesn’t take his shit out on you or the girls, but you’ve seen the darkness that lurks around the edge of his eyes. The way they can go flat and emotionless, looking like a stranger for a moment before your Dave comes back to you.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you aren’t sure why. Making you shuffle slightly as you try to remember if you’ve forgotten anything. It’s not your anniversary but maybe he’s told you something was happening tonight that you are supposed to remember. But why wouldn’t he just tell you?

“Everything alright?” Of course you were going to break. Dave arches a brow, his intense look not changing except to take on a challenging edge.

“You tell me.” Okaaaaay, this is slightly suspicious but then he keeps talking. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Your stomach plummets and your heart starts to gallop in your chest. Your eyes flickering over to your laptop and Dave hums. “Mmmhmmm.”

“Did you-”

“Did you think you could keep this from me?” He asks quietly, voice dropping down several octaves. Making your eyes widen at the fucking authority in his tone. “Answer me.”

“I can explain…” Except, how do you explain this? How can you possibly tell your husband what you’ve been doing?

“Can you?” He purses his lips at you, folding his arms across his chest as he asks. Almost mocking you. “You can explain?”

“It- it’s just-” Your cheeks could fry an eye and you can’t hold his gaze, your eyes sliding away to look at the laptop again. “They’re just stories.”

****

“Daaaaave.” Your plea is low, practically whimpered and Dave chuckles as he watches you twist against the straps that have you tied to the bed.

After he had wound you up, teased you with the fact that he had read everything that you have written, there had been a frantic urgency to the way that he had dragged you upstairs. An urgency that has been missing from your sex life.

“Shut up.” The slap to your sensitive inside thigh stings and makes you moan, body on fire from anticipation and embarrassment over how wet you are from this. “You asked for this.”

You hadn’t asked for it, not out loud. Unable to voice the desires that swim around in your head and set fire to your cunt, you hadn’t been able to give voice to them to the man who had known your body better than anyone. So you had written them down.

Expressing yourself through sexy stories, made up fantasies and encounters to work through the desires that you often masturbate to. Not because Dave is a bad lover, he’s always been good about making sure that you feel good in bed with him. It just….wasn’t everything you needed.

Now he’s hovering over you, darkness clouding his eyes and that blank expression is focused on you for the first time. It makes your heart race again, this time in a very specific kind of way. The kind that makes your cunt ache and your thighs try to close to get some kind of friction on your clit.

His body prevents that. Thighs spread wide as he keeps you splayed open and his cock bobbing enticingly with a heavy bead of precum pearling up at the tip. Not quite leaking down like the other smears of wetness but getting close and you swear that you’ve not seen him this hard in a long time.

“Slut.” He chuckles darkly, “writing fucking filthy stories and thinking that I wouldn’t notice. You know what I do, what I am. You wanted to get caught. To have me read what you crave and not have to say it out loud. To pretend that you are innocent and good when you’re just a nasty whore.”

Biting your lip, you take the verbal abuse that Dave is spitting at you, ashamed at how good it sounds coming from his raspy baritone. Just like you had always imagined it. Dave could, and would talk dirty in bed but he had never called you names and it’s not something you could ask for despite being able to talk to him about anything.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t you?” Dave hums, fingers brushing over your clit again before he slaps your thigh again. Once more in the exact same spot makes you hiss. He wants welts to raise up on your skin, to give you the things that you have written about in your stories in exacting detail.

Giving him an insight into what you wanted in the deepest, darkest parts of your soul. The things you wouldn’t say aloud despite the conversations about ‘spicing things up in the bedroom’.

There is a moment where his eyes soften again, fingers stroking over your thigh as the heat from the three swats starts to set in. He hadn’t been gentle and he can feel the way that your skin prickles with goosebumps.

There is a moment where he thinks you aren’t going to answer him, that you want your thigh slapped again but then you nod. Eyes heavy lidded and already lust blown as you pant. Your tits lift with every heaving breath and he’s barely touched you.

“What am I going to do with you?” He asks, not wanting an answer from you really, it’s all rhetorical because he’s going to do what he wants. “Fist you?”

The way you squirm has him grinning, the skin of your lip between your teeth and you can’t quite meet his eyes. “Oh I read it all.” He hums mockingly, not mentioning that he had to jerk off because of your steamy words. He got turned on reading your dirty little stories. Whoever Jack Daniels or Marcus Pike was, they knew how to fucking having fun. “No need to be shy, I know you get off on the thought of me shoving my fist inside you, or having my cock inside you along with a toy.”

He picks up the toy he had pulled out of your drawer, holding it up to show you what he could potentially do for you. It’s a plug, one that he’s never seen before and it intrigues him. You obviously have some toys that you use for yourself when he’s gone and right now, he’s going to use them on you.

You tug on the restraints, feeling your heartbeat drumming under your skin every time you tug and meeting the resistance. The limited movement and the feeling of being helpless is one that you’ve always wanted and now you have it.

You had shocked him, which was rare for a man like Dave. He has seen so much of the world at its worst and the woman he had imagined to be slightly innocent in some things was anything but. “I’m going to push this inside your tight little ass and then I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. “Later we are going to train that tight little cunt to take my fist in it. Aren’t we, baby? You’re going to be my little slut?”

“Dave-”

“Daaaaavvvve.” He pouts his lips, mocking you with a devilish glint in his eyes. “No? You want to see how many fingers I can get inside you now? Maybe I’ll fuck your ass while I’m working you open.”

Your whimper makes his cock twitch. Watching you pull at the restraints is thrilling in a way that he had never tried to imagine with you. Separating the Dave York for work from the man who came home to his family had been deliberate and yet you want some of the man he had to be to survive.

His fingers trail over your skin, watching as your breathing hitches and he grins before he leans down and presses his lips to yours softly. “Don’t worry, baby.” He coos, “I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

****

He takes his time. Showing you how methodical he can be as he works his fingers in and out of your grasping, leaking little hole. Every gasp you give when he brushes up against the smaller plug that is nestled inside of you makes him chuckle. Mocking you for being so sensitive, even while his fingers are curling up inside you.

Three, three of his fingers are stretching you out and you don’t know how you will possibly take more. They are thicker than the two that he normally uses, pushed deep just to the edge of being uncomfortable. Making you squirm and bite your lip, watching his eyes as he stares at you. The slightly mocking light in his gaze urging you to take just a bit more.

“Maybe your dildo in your ass, right baby?” Dave grunts as he starts to scissor his fingers, wanting you to be stretched out. His chest is heaving, watching you so wantonly beg for him. Wanting him to fulfill those dirty little fantasies that you had hidden from him. If you had just told him what you were thinking about, he could have done this sooner. Would have done this sooner.

The plug vibrates. He had learned that when he had slid it inside you and felt the little switch underneath the silicone that covers the flared base. Now buzzing away inside you and making you whimper his name while his fingers push as deep as they can go. The wrecked moans pouring out of your throat makes him want to fuck it. Imagining how good it would feel around his cock. You’ve blown him plenty of times, but this time it would be like you had written about. He wouldn’t let you control the pace or how deep you take him. He would.

“Baby please.” Your plea is breathless, gasped out as you tug on the restraints again. Pouting at him like he is torturing you. Dave grunts, leaning down and kissing your jaw, biting your chin.

“I’ve got you, you can take it. I know you can, baby. Such a good slut for me.” He praises, feeling your soaked walls contract around his fingers like a vice. “You just need to cum for me so I can fuck you. Replace these fingers with my cock.”

A fourth finger tries to push inside. Making you wince and whine while your hips jerk back from his touch for the first time since this little game started. Dave’s eyes immediately find your face, watching as he pulls that finger back, making sure that you are comfortable. Your safe word in his mind if you should need to say it, but he wants to make this good. This isn’t about him controlling you as much as you putting your pleasure in his hands.

Once your body relaxes, you start to push down again, your hands flexing around the straps and itching to touch him. To urge him for more, begging him with your eyes to let you cum as the vibrations of the plug and the curling of his fingers draw you close every time he rolls his wrist.

“Fuck.” The noises you make are vastly different from the normal soft moans and gentle cries that you give when your husband is touching you. Some of that is due to not having the kids in the house, not worrying about little ears hearing. The majority of it is from the pure pleasure that is rolling through your body and making you ache.

You are getting what you’ve always wanted, what you’ve secretly needed. Too scared to say it out loud for fear of being rejected, or mocked. Or worse, your husband thinking there was something wrong with you. You had never imagined thinking that he would be into it.

“Come on baby.” He urges you, eyes dark and blown wide as he watches you. “Cum for me. Want that pussy creamy when I fuck you full of me. Stretched out on a dildo and my dick and squealing.”

That pushes you over the edge, arching up into his touch and obeying his command with ease that just seems to shake you apart at the seams. “Dave!” Your scream catches and breaks in your throat, cascading through you and making you shudder.

“That’s it, oh fuck sweetheart, you look so good cumming.” He praises you, nearly cumming himself as he watches you. Enjoying the way your chest rises and falls, your body shakes and your cunt clenches around his fingers.

It’s exquisite when he pushes into you, the feeling of being so full is a sensation that you’ve never imagined you would get. Two toys just doesn’t do it. It doesn’t feel like Dave. Nothing could feel as good as he does, the heat, the throbbing. Making you shiver and moan like the little slut he keeps claiming you are. You are a slut, his slut. You will be anything that he wants you to be as long as he keeps touching you like this. Giving you what you have craved. “I’m- it’s so much.” You whimper, eyes rolling back in your head. “So full, fuck Dave I’m so full.”

His chuckle rolls over you like a dark wave, filling your ears and senses with the pleasure that he is pulling from this. He’s enjoying himself, the smug smirk on his face when you finally open your eyes to find him looking down at you.

“Yes you are.” You are stretched out, the little plug in your ass swapped for a smaller dildo so you aren’t pushed too far, but he could imagine a bigger toy inside you. Pressing against him through the thin skin. “You are going to take everything I give you, baby. You’re gonna take it and you’re gonna love it.”

You will, you trust Dave. He’s your husband, he’s got your best interests in mind and so far he’s been amazing. Completely in control and still giving you what you need. His thrusts start to speed up now that you are slightly relaxed. Groaning as he starts a rhythm that takes your breath and leaves you unable to do anything more than to watch his jaw clench and flex as he fucks you.

Grunting every time he buries himself deep and gasping when he pulls out of your grasping cunt. It feels amazing, every nerve alight with pleasure and you feel like your nipples are hard as diamonds as the scrape against his chest. Heightening the sensations and making it even better as he stuffs you full with the tilt of his hips pushes the toy deeper inside you.

“Dave, oh fuck, Dave.” You moan, unable to do anything but take it since you are still restrained. “Please, baby. Please.”

“Shit.” He hisses as he starts to rock his hips faster, chasing his high and pushing you towards to yours. “You dirty fucking girl, you love this.” He grunts. “If you - fuck - if you weren’t my wife I’d get another guy to fuck you with me.” He bares his teeth. “No one else touches you. You’re mine.”

“Yours.” You pant, nodding as he continues to wreck you. “I’m yours baby, only yours.”

He growls, pleased with your answer. “I’ll give you what you need, I’ll take care of my little slut.” He taunts.

He will, he is. It’s all you can think before your entire body seizes up and you cry out hoarsely. Stars bursting and your entire world exploding on an atomic level and your vision whites out.

Dave groans your name, pushing deep two more times before he is cumming. Filling you with hot spurts of his seed as he pants out your name again and relaxes against your body. Breathless as he tries to catch his breath so he can take care of you. You had kept secrets from him, secrets that he had thought were going to change your marriage. And they have - for the better. He has been very pleased to learn your dirty secrets.

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

325 notes · View notes

wannab-urs · 1 month

Text

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?

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Moreno fanfiction #Jack Daniels fanfiction #lucien flores fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

pimosworld · 5 months

Text

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Francisco 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 he wants you to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, Angst,Fluff,Eventual Smut,Hurt, Comfort,MMF dynamics. General warnings for each chapter. Anything sensitive will be added to individual chapters.

WK-5.5K

A/N-This starts out angsty but I don’t write sad endings so keep that in mind going forward. Reader has a best friend very near and dear to my heart.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter I

Dave looks over the file on his desk again before he makes the call. He reviewed it the night before and was going to contact the client until he realized not everyone holds the same weird hours as he does. Insomnia.

He takes a sip of his coffee as he dials the number with a Florida area code. At least he would get to enjoy some nice weather this time. The last soulmate he tracked down mid winter lived in Buffalo New York, he wasted weeks trying to find him only to find out he was happily married and had no intention of leaving his current wife. The woman who hired him was devastated but…devastated doesn’t pay the bills so she was out twenty grand, and went back to being single a few states over.

They don’t always end in misery but he’s used to it now. He wonders why he still does it, maybe helping these people will erase the thought of killing someone’s soulmate when he’s contracted for his other job. He can’t think about that one too much.

“Hello Santiago speaking.” Dave glances down at the file once more to be sure.

“Ugh yes I’m Dave York calling to reach Francisco Morales?” He hears a low curse on the other end and some apologies.

“Oh ya, just give me a second.” He can hear ruffling and the sound of a sliding door. My patience is already wearing thin.

“Thanks for returning my call. I’m actually hiring you on behalf of my friend Francisco.”

This wouldn’t be the first time he was contracted to find someone’s soulmate because some friend or family member couldn’t keep their nose where it belonged. There would most certainly be drama and resistance. Two things Dave did not handle well.

“That’s very generous of you. Is Francisco eager to find his soulmate?”

“He ugh…well…yes, yes he is.” Fat chance

“I would need to meet him of course to go through with this, you understand?”

“Of course, that won’t be a problem at all. I sent you the details of when and where we can meet and provided you with the deposit.” At least he means business, either way Dave doesn’t care about the in’s and outs of why people do it. He knows it’s important… or at least he did.

He finishes going over the rules with Santiago that will hopefully get relaid to Frankie. He’ll find your soulmate and set up a meeting. If the person does not wish to pursue the relationship he will relay that to you to avoid any in person embarrassment. No stalking or harassment involved. If he can’t find them within 30 days you get your money back.

Some people frowned upon what he did. Purists thought you should meet your soulmate organically. They were rarely alone for more than a few years before they found theirs so he didn’t like listening to what they had to say.

He wasted years trying to find his love. When he did find her…it was already too late. Those six months were the best and worst of his life. Knowing he’s found his soulmate and gets to spend every waking moment with her only to have it ripped from his grasp.

If he had to spend the rest of his tortured life helping others not waste time then he would.

****

Why the hell did Will make them wear bow ties? This must be Amanda’s suggestion, there’s no way he decided they should all be this uncomfortable on his wedding day.

Frankie looks over at Ben and Will having some brotherly talk as if the younger miller has some wise words of advice having been married for all of six months. He loved rubbing it in that he was able to tie the knot before the rest of them of course excluding Tom who got married years ago when they were all in basic.

He tries really hard not to be bitter on these days but he can’t help himself. Of course he ran that risk when he married someone who was not his soulmate. He loved Sophia so much it didn’t matter to him. It’s worked out for plenty of other people and it worked for him…until it didn’t.

He didn’t try very hard to find his soulmate. Between being in the military, not being able to put down roots for so long and the fact that his soulmate probably hated him for all his scars and tattoos he can’t say he put much of an effort into finding them.

The hummingbird tattoo on his wrist practically taunted him his entire marriage. He pretended he didn’t care and so did she. She always told him they would try for kids when she was ready and he never pushed. He thought she was finally ready when she told him they needed to talk. Never in a million years did he expect her to say she found her soulmate and she was leaving him.

Their baby boy should be a year old by now, Sophia was pregnant within a month of the divorce being finalized. This was information Santiago insisted despite the others protests that he needed to know so that he could move on.

He can’t put the blame all on her. He left for Colombia to bring home money so they could start a family and he came home with nothing but news that her best friend's husband was dead.

It must be some kind of fucked up karma that they went back for the money and now he’s alone. If he’s really being honest with himself, he knows they never really loved each other. It was convenient for both of them. Frankie doesn’t like being honest with himself so he'd rather continue on painting her as the villain in his story.

“Hermano, you need some help with that tie.” Santiago starts fidgeting before he can even answer no. He slaps his hands away and Santi backs away with his hands up in surrender.

“Why are you being so nice?”

“I’m always nice.” Frankie scoffs at that. Santiago was never nice unless he wanted something from you.

“You picked up my tux, gave me a ride here and now you’re offering to fix my tie?!” He gives him a look and Santi knows it’s only a matter of time.

“I have a surprise for you.” He resumes fixing his tie despite Frankie’s protests.

“The last time you surprised me someone died.” Santi clears his throat but doesn’t protest, it must be bad.

“I hired a PI to find your soulmate.” That last part is rushed out but Frankie hears him clear as day.

He shoves him back a few steps which draws the attention of Ben and Will. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Chill out Fish, what’s your problem?” Ben steps between the two of them as Frankie looks as though he could spit fire.

“I told him about the PI.” Ben whips around to Santi.

“I thought we were gonna wait until tomorrow.” Frankie looks over at Will in disbelief.

“You fucking knew about this?” He can see it in their eyes and how no one will look at him directly.

“Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’m getting married in an hour.”

Sure he’ll talk tomorrow, they can all talk about staying out of his life and meddling in his business. Pope can call off the PI and they can all go back to being happy with their soulmates and Santiago can go fuck off somewhere in another country as he always does, leaving Frankie to mope alone with his thoughts.

“Ya we’ll talk tomorrow.” Ben comes over to fix his tie and Frankie clenches his fists at his side.

This is going to be a long day.

****

The new Mr.& Mrs. Miller do look very in love on the dance floor as Frankie enjoys his second piece of cake. Cake never betrayed him…his ex wife and his best friends maybe but never cake.

Ben dips his wife and it sorely reminds him of his wedding day when he and Sophia ended up with calloused feet from dancing all night.

His chest tightens at the sight of Molly dancing with her girls. She stayed so strong through it all and she looks so happy, maybe it’s just a front or maybe she’s choosing not to be a miserable sap like him. She lost her soulmate and never once judged them for what they did. She knew how Tom could be. Frankie doesn’t know how someone could treat their soulmate the way Tom treated Molly. He’s better off alone than with a soulmate who doesn’t love him back.

Santiago makes his way over to the table and gestures to the seat next to Frankie. He nods his head for him to sit down while he watches the dance floor. They sit in silence for a moment and Frankie thinks about how selfish he is for being so petulant about the whole thing.

Santiago never cared about finding his soulmate, maybe because of their line of work or maybe it was the nature of his being. He’ll never forget the look on his face when his tattoo’s disappeared. He told the guys it was fine but they could hear him trying to muffle his cries in his bunk.

“I’ll do it Pope.” Santiago looks at him with a mixture of shock and excitement.

“I came ready for an argument.” He slides Frankie’s plate closer to him to steal a bite of cake. “We meet him tomorrow.”

“Jesus what if I said no?” Frankie slides the plate back to himself, not ready to let go of his precious dessert.

“You might want to lay off the cake if you’re going to meet your soulmate soon.” Frankie flips him off as Santi grabs the plate and saunters off to the dance floor.

****

Dave’s always early to meet a client, but never this early. He couldn’t find a lot of information on Francisco Morales but he did find out he was Delta Force and so was the man that hired him on his behalf. He always met potential clients in a public place of their choosing to get an idea of who they are. There's no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop holds no significance to the two men and will most certainly not help him figure out anything about Francisco.

He knows it’s their military training that they will never seem to break free from. It doesn’t make it easy for your soulmate to find you when you're as mysterious as Francisco Morales. No social media, no parking tickets, no convictions. A minor hiccup with his pilot's license but his record was scrubbed clean a few years ago. It takes a lot of money to completely wipe your record.

Their trip to Colombia wasn’t as off the books as they thought. With Dave’s connections he can find out a lot more about the average person than they think. It’s true he is paid to find your soulmate but he has a duty to uphold to not put said person in harm's way. Frankie’s sketchy past and interesting finances make him a little wary to just introduce him to the person he’s supposed to spend the rest of his life with. He doesn’t know the circumstances behind his wife leaving him and that also has his guard up. Who just up and leaves after 8 years?

He pauses his thoughts momentarily as he notices an old Jeep pull into the parking lot of the cafe. He hasn’t seen a Jeep like that in years. His suspicions are correct when two men around his age step out. Still relatively in military shape, the shorter of the two in a black t-shirt much too tight for him and black jeans. The taller one in an open flannel and blue jeans donning a dirty cap and aviators…that must be Francisco.

They both survey the area as if it’s their first time here and that confirms his other notion that these men wanted to meet somewhere not near their home. Probably thirty minutes to an hour outside of where they actually live if he would guess. Fifteen minutes early to be safe but still not earlier than him.

“I should’ve worn something nicer.” Frankie smooths his hands down the front of his worn flannel as they approach the coffee shop. This was his nice flannel but maybe he could’ve taken an iron to it or something.

“Relax hermano, he didn’t bring your soulmate to the meeting.”

“You vetted this guy?” Frankie couldn’t find much information on David York, which worried him a little.

“As much as I could.” Frankie holds the door open for Santiago as they enter and head straight for the counter. Coffee is much needed after imbibing too much at the wedding. He’s grateful in hindsight that he chose this location just outside of town.

“Corner,black suit.”

Frankie glances up, hopefully shielded by his sunglasses. “He looks smug.”

“Don’t start.” Santi hisses under his breath as he steps up to place their order. “ Two black coffees please.”

Best case scenario, this guy finds his soulmate and Frankie can’t even wrap his head around what he would do with that information. It scares him to even think about it.

Worst case scenario, Pope is out some money that he didn’t ask him to spend in the first place and he can go back to whatever semblance of a life he was living before all this.

Way to be positive Frankie

****

Introductions are awkward to say the least. Frankie and Santi seated at the small cafe table across from Dave who has set a notepad down next to his small coffee. The silence is deafening as he scribbled down a few things after giving them a once over.

“So I’m sure you have some questions for me. If you don’t mind holding those until I’ve gone over everything.” He’s not really asking and Frankie already had his hackles up at the grim outlook of the man in front of him.

He always hated ‘suits’ . This guy is obviously ex-government and he’s not really sure how someone like him ended up in the line of work of finding someone’s soulmate. Besides the obvious monetary aspect there is a lot of love and emotion involved and the man seated before him doesn’t strike him as the romantic type.

“Why did you decide to hire me to find your soulmate?” I didn’t hire you. Frankie looks over at Santiago hoping he’ll help him out a little.

“Well ugh…I actually didn’t.” Dave raises his eyebrows at that but lets him continue. “My friend here was kind enough to give me a push in the right direction.” After too many drinks and a lot of talking he reconciled with Santi that this was something he should at least try to pursue.

Everything seems pretty straightforward once he starts going over his normal way of doing things. Frankie understands after the initial round of uncomfortable questions that Dave needs to make sure he’s not some weirdo. He opted to return a few peoples initial deposit upon meeting them and not deeming them safe enough or sane enough to track down their soulmate and uproot their lives.

Frankie’s thankful he doesn’t pry too much into his reason for divorcing. Dave mostly wanted to make sure that he was not still legally married because he won’t set anyone up for heartbreak.

Dave has a thirty day guarantee, if he doesn’t find them in that time frame you get a full refund. Frankie is a little shocked at his confidence. People spend their entire lives trying to find their soulmate and he can somehow guarantee it.

“So, now that I’ve gone over all the logistics. Do you have any questions for me?” Frankie looks to Santiago who’s been uncharacteristically quiet throughout this meeting. Maybe out of courtesy for Frankie or perhaps he’s sizing him up. Either way, Frankie really only has one thing he is curious about.

“Why do you do it?”

Dave takes a sip of his lukewarm coffee. It’s pretty bad if he’s being honest but he needs a moment. He always needs a moment when this question is brought up. It’s usually one of the only questions he hates answering. Truthfully answering would require to let people in ‘strangers’.

These same strangers trust him enough to do this so as uncomfortable as it is he provides enough of an answer to suit both parties.

“I hate to say that it pays well, but I have to state the obvious.” For the first time during the meeting Frankie can see his hard exterior crack a little. The first time where he seems nervous and unsure of what he’s going to say.

“Also…I wish I had met my wife sooner. I may have had more time with her.”

Santiago excuses himself from the table. He doesn’t do well with emotions. Frankie knows that probably stung a little. He’s not sure if it’s worse that Santi never got to meet them or if meeting them briefly makes it all that more painful.

“I appreciate your honesty Dave.” He sends him a tight lip smile that doesn’t meet the eyes.

“If that’s all you have for me I’ll be in touch in the next few days hopefully with an update.”

Frankie shakes his hand, a firm handshake he notes to himself. Dave has a nice build, he’s not sure why he makes a note of that as well.

Frankie finished the rest of his coffee and headed outside. Santi leans against the back of the Jeep scrolling idly on his phone. He looks up at him but says nothing as they both get in, Frankie in the driver's seat.

“I just needed some air.” Santiago looks out the passenger window seemingly fixated on the passing cars.

“I know hermano.” He doesn’t need to say anything more.

Neither of them speak for a while, too many thoughts on their minds as they ponder the meeting and what all of it means. Seeing Santiago still struggling with losing his soulmate makes Frankie want to give this his all.

****

Santi can’t shake the thought of Dave doing all this because he didn’t have enough time with his soulmate. At least he got to spend some time with them. He's lied to himself all these years after his tattoos and scars of his soulmate were long gone. This was not about him though, this is about helping his friend move on and be happy. That’s all he wants for them after the chaos he caused in Colombia. He has to make things right for him. Frankie may not see it as his fault but Santiago can’t help but think maybe Sophia would’ve stayed if things hadn’t gone so poorly.

Santiago would never know that things started to sour in their relationship long before that Ill fated trip to steal someone else’s money.

Frankie was the one who had it all together. A real job he could be proud of , a wife he loved , a house for their future family. Things quickly fell apart for him after they returned and he was no longer the one that they looked to for guidance.

Santiago made it his mission to help Frankie get back on his feet after they went back for the money. Frankie got his license back, he bought a home that didn’t remind him of all his memories with his ex wife, now all he needed to do was find love.

Santi rubs his hands across his jeans trying to shake himself from the trance. Frankie eyes him cautiously from the driver’s seat.

Santiago leans forward to turn the radio down. “So how are you feeling about all this?”

“Considering he has a guarantee, a little better than I felt going in.”

He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much but he’s starting to get that feeling like things may be taking a turn for the better.

Frankie pulls up to Santi’s house and puts the car in park.

“I know what you’re gonna say, I’ll be fine I promise and I’ll call you later after I sleep off this hangover.” Frankie smiles at that,Santiago only lets a select few into his world and he won’t push it any further.

“I just want to say thanks Pope. This really means a lot.” Santi waves him off and hops out, he knows how much it means but he’s not gonna get any more emotions out of this day.

“Love you hermano, this time next year we’ll be planning your wedding.” Santi calls out over his shoulder before he enters his house. Frankie wants to roll his eyes at that but he secretly hopes that he’s right.

****

“Alicia! We’re gonna be late.” You stand in your bedroom in front of the floor length mirror putting the finishing touches on your makeup. The modest yellow sundress and strappy heels you bought ages ago are finally getting some use.

“I can’t decide on what to wear.” You faintly hear her yell from her bedroom.

You’re not particularly excited about this singles event she signed you up for but you certainly didn’t want to walk in late and have all eyes on you. She’s your best friend so you agreed to accompany her on one of her many schemes to get you back on the dating scene.

You cross the hall to her room and find a mountain of clothes on her bed and more clothes flying out of her closet.

“Let me see what you’re wearing.” She emerges from her closet in a slinky black dress to match her long black hair. She was a bombshell in anything she wore so you aren’t sure what the hold up is.

“Alicia that looks hot, wear that.” She gives herself a once over in the mirror as she smooths her hands down the front.

“You don’t think this is sending the wrong message?”

“Babe you said yourself you need to get laid.” You glance down at the time on your phone. “Shit we’re gonna be really late.”

“You’re right, I did say that. Thanks for talking me off a ledge.” She grabs her phone from the nightstand as you follow her out of the room.

“You’re gonna need to pretend my room is yours if you bring someone home though.” You gesture towards the disaster she left on her bed.

She turns to you, grabbing your face and kissing your forehead. “Only a true friend would let me defile her bed for the sake of a hookup.”

You laugh as you shoo her along out the door. “That’s what friends are for.”

****

The bad news, you were indeed late. The good news is no one seems to notice as you both enter the hotel lounge for the event. Everyone is talking and mingling amongst themselves so you and Alicia have an opportunity to grab a drink and settle in.

You haven’t been on a proper date in years so she thought this would be a nice way to ease back into things. No pressure or obligations and no awkward first date etiquette. People were just here to simply talk and get to know each other. If you made a connection that was great but if you just didn’t like someone then there were no hard feelings.

“Cute guy at twelve o'clock is checking you out.” You try to do a subtle scan of the room as you sip your fruity drink.

“Alicia I don’t know what that means…Wait how do you know he wasn’t checking you out?” She steps in front of you to slightly block your view.

“He’s in the gray button down on my right .” She half whispers as she attempts a head nod. “Do you see him?”

“Oh shit he’s coming over here.” You both do your best worst to act casual as a tall and very attractive…distractingly attractive man walks over.

“I do have to say yellow is definitely your color.”

“Told you.” Alicia says under her breath as she leaves you at the bar with this stranger.

You thank him politely for his compliment and introduce yourself as you try to ignore the lewd gestures your best friend is making with her hands behind his back. Thankfully she’s interrupted by a man with a tap on her shoulder. He’s noticeably not the type she goes for. He’s much too tall for her…she prefers to tower over her love interests ‘it makes me feel powerful’ in her words.

Jeff was nice enough as he engaged you in conversation. He mostly droned on about his job in finance and his hobbies, his five year goals and now come to think of it…you didn’t really get a chance to talk about yourself. He excused himself from the conversation when he saw someone he knew in the crowd, leaving you in your comfortable silence once again.

Your moment of reprieve is short lived when a woman approaches you. You actually enjoy talking to her and you can tell she’s listening intently. She’s beautiful, funny and smart. Perhaps another time you would be interested but she mentioned she just got out of a long term relationship and you don’t have the energy to be someone’s rebound. You’ve spent years repairing your broken heart and if this is your one attempt at trying to find love again it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

You still exchanged numbers after she’d said how nice it was to meet you. Your eyes immediately find Alicia’s across the room with a man who could be her grandfather. He doesn’t seem to notice her look of save me etched across her face. You take this moment to tease her a bit, making the same hand motions she did earlier. An older woman looks on in shock when you realize a little too late that you’ve caught the attention of others in the room.

After offering an apologetic smile, you gather yourself and join her across the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, Alicia, can I borrow you for a moment.”

She loops her arm in yours pulling you close to her side. “It was nice to meet you Irving.”

“The pleasure is all mine dear.” He takes her free hand, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the top. You bite your cheek to stifle a laugh as she waves him off. You can feel her eyes on you as you exit the lounge.

If looks could kill you’d be a goner.

“Irving seemed nice.”

“Shut up.”

You both burst into a fit of giggles as you make it safely to the hotel lobby out of sight of anyone trying to vy for your attention.

These were the moments you lived for with your best friend. The reason you were able to get back on your feet when you moved across the country to start your life over. She took you in like a stray cat, no questions asked when you replied to her ad looking for a roommate. You didn’t find out until later on that she didn’t need the money, she just hated living alone.

She came from a wealthy family and traveled the world before settling in Naples Florida. She never had a soulmate…it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to go their entire lives without so much as a mark or tattoo. It makes you wonder if the universe chooses at random or if people are destined for that path. She is such a free spirit it almost makes sense why she can’t be tied down to just one person. Her biggest problem is making sure her current interests aren't only after her for money.

“So…what’s the plan for the rest of the evening babe?” You both step out still arm in arm. It’s a beautiful sunset starting just over the tops of the buildings downtown. You could walk down to the beach or drab a drink at another bar.

You can feel your dress starting to cling to your back from the humidity and you made a huge mistake wearing heels that weren’t broken in yet. Alicia looks at you and then pulls out her phone to call a car to come get you. “Let’s go home and eat ice cream while we discuss what a train wreck that was.”

You let out a sigh of relief as you push back trying to stand on the heels of your feet. “That sounds like a perfect night.”

****

“At one point he actually took his dentures out to show me.” Alicia buries her head in the pillow as you make a disgusted face.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” You’re laughing to the point of a stomach ache.

“Ya, you sound really sorry.” She throws the pillow at you on the other end of the couch. “So tell me about the girl. You were talking to her for a while.” She raises one eyebrow at you as she reaches down to the coffee table for the carton of rocky road.

“She was nice.” You lean forward grabbing the carton from her hands. “She was more than nice actually…but she just got out of a serious relationship.”

“Ugh…no one wants to be a rebound.”

Your thoughts exactly.

You swear sometimes you share a brain, or maybe you have just spent so much time with each other that you can’t help but think alike.

“I’m glad we went, I needed to break the ice. It’s not like the love of my life is gonna waltz into the record store.” You loved your job, you always had a love for music. There was something so special about the medium of records standing the test of time. That’s the kind of love you wanted.

“Let’s just marry each other if this dating thing doesn’t work out.” She holds out her pinky as you wrap yours around hers.

“Deal.”

You raise from the couch gathering your plush blankets. “I’m gonna turn in for the night, love you leesh.”

“Love you too hon’, get some sleep.”

****

Sleep

That was a joke in its own right. The problem with having anxiety is the one time where your brain should quiet down is when it wants to be the most active.

You brush your thumb along the etched roses on your ring finger. It’s such a fine and delicate tattoo, the line work is beautiful and the stem of it perfectly curls around coming to a point at the end of your finger.

You hate to assume, but it’s always felt feminine in nature. It doesn’t seem like a drunken mistake or a rushed decision. The tattoo feels intentional. You had a lot of tattoos in a short amount of time when you were in college. These tattoos were overtly masculine. A small Blackhawk tattoo on your left wrist, almost mirroring your hummingbird. A gun of some kind on your left ankle…you weren’t familiar with firearms. A tiny elephant on the inside of your left thigh, by far the most adorable of the set.

In short succession they all adorned your body before you graduated from the California Institute of the Arts with a minor in arts management and a major in music history. Your step mother always said it was a waste and your father couldn’t be bothered to defend you. Your mother would have been proud though.

It was years before the roses showed up on your finger one beautiful spring day. It was so unlike the others it turned your world upside down.

The reason you moved across the country to escape the control and the pressure of someone who couldn’t love you with those scars and tattoos. Resenting you more and more each day knowing that you belonged to someone else.

It’s those thoughts that keep you up at night. The nightmares and horrible things that only your mind thinks up. As much as you try to push those thoughts away, you know deep down someone is out there. Made for you.

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Taglist- @missladym1981 @legendary-pink-dot @brittmb115 @christinamadsen @heavennumber2 @anoverwhelmingdin @guelyury @hannahkatharine

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist 🤍

93 notes · View notes

angellettes · 11 months

Text

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ➔ ETHAN LANDRY

—synopsis. Ethan has been acting suspicious after you fall into trouble and get saved by New York's friendly neighborhood spider-man

—notes. sorry this took so long to get out! I've been very very busy reconstructing my blog. genre/warnings.. Canon level violence considering it's spider-man, Ethan is very shy but you guys make out!(yay), Ethan is kinda dave lizewski coded as well🗣

Late nights at parties were always extremely fun but getting home was a nightmare. You were walking home from a party which was fun but way to far from your dorm. You were also really really anxious with the ghostface killer going around lately killing people so you were trying to stay alert but freaked out when you saw the mask described in the news sprinting at you. You quickly start running but fall when you realize that your heels were stopping you. You quickly took them off and started running barefoot through the empty late night streets of New York. suddenly you hear a thud and see the killer was on the ground, passed out. You then looked and saw the boy in the red and blue suit who goes around the city saving people, spider-man. Your eyes widened with your mouth fallen agape. He quickly jumps down and helps you get your composure back. "is it ok if I bring you home to make sure you stay safe?" You quickly nod and start walking. You both walked in creating an almost natural conversation, getting to know eachother as much as you could considering he's a masked hero. It was somehow comforting considering how you almost just got butchered. "This is me. thank you so much, spider-man. I truly owe you" you say with a thankfulness in your voice to show that you're glad he got there when he did. "It's not problem. It's my job just make sure to stay safe. I hope to see you again but probably just in different circumstances" he says with a light laugh at the you. You laugh as well and smile at him softly "I hope so too". Even though you've just met him it was like you has known him for longer. He was still standing there but you felt as if you already missed talking to him, and feeling his friendly presence. "I have to go now but we'll see eachother again. It was nice meeting you, y/n." he says softly, and after that he swings away on a web.

When he got home that night he took off his mask and freaked out a little bit. You see, Ethan had the biggest crush on y/n ever since high school. He of course thought you were out of his league but a boy can dream. As he laid looking at the ceiling imagining getting to talk to you and tell you how, he feels his eyelids began to fall as he slipped into gentle slumber. You stayed up that night thinking about the mysterious boy in the red and blue suit, and how his gentle voice sounded so familiar. You didn't think into it too much though and just decided to go to sleep.

After that encounter with spider-man you started to develop a friendship with this boy from your economics class. His name was Ethan and he was a really sweet but sort of shy boy. On the other note spider-man would visit you almost every night at your window.

knocks were heard at your window. As you got to the window you noticed the familiar mask and immediately opened the window for him. As he climbed through the window he greeted you with a happy but nervous tone in his voice. "Hey y/n I actually stopped by earlier tonight because there's something I really want to get off of my chest." he says as he sits next to you on your bed. There was a frantic nature to his fidgety movements. "I've been thinking about this for a while and I just wanted to say that- I really like you as more than a friend so I don't want to keep secrets with you. I trust you more than anyone." He struggles to let out his words before they come pouring out in a natural flow. Your eyes widened as he pulls off my mask and tufts of chocolatey brown curls become visible from underneath. you let out a gasp as you look at him as his mask is completely off. Ethan looks at you with a nervous look and laughs as a smile begins to emerge on your face. You quickly tackle him excitedly and hug his toned frame. "Oh my gosh, Ethan I'm so glad that you feel the same way and I didn't have to say it first because I'm TERRIBLE at words" He let's out a laugh and hugs you back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "You really are confusing aren't you?" he says with a teasing smile. "Yup, you bet" you reply with a sly smirk. As you continue to hug him you give his cheek a kiss and snuggle into the crook of his neck. As he strokes your hair gently with a smile he whispers into your ear " so will you accept me as your boyfriend?". You look at him with a slight smile and utter out "does this answer your question?". Your lips meet his with fervor and longing. The kiss wasn't slow but it wasn't desperate. It was simply a kiss between two pining people who waited for so long to be in eachother's arms, and feel the love they shared mutually. As that kiss went on, it got more desperate and clingy. His soft plump rosy lips met yours as soon as you pulled away over and over. His hands making their way to rest comfortably on waist, as your hands tangled into his soft, dark brown, curly hair. He pulls away with a laugh and looks at you with a look of happiness yet a certain fear and sadness. "Promise me you stay safe y/n if people found out we are together they would go after you. Save yourself by not telling anyone about us." He says as he holds your face to look straight into your eyes. You look at him and nod with a soft smile. "You know, you remind of that one song, "After the storm"" you say as you connect your phone to your speaker to play it. "why?" he says as he chuckles at how you have a habit to relate everything to a song. "Well you're a very encouraging person. telling people to keep going even if you feel you can't. You shy but you have a very bright air about you" he looks away with a blush as hides his face.

"well Ethan, I guess you have to go now before Chad starts asking questions about why you're at my apartment." He gave you a look of disbelief and questioning asking "how would he know?" you smirk and look at him with a look of humor. "because your location is on". His eyes widened and he quickly had to get up and put his mask back on as he exclaims "SHIT!!" Before he gets ready to go through the window he quickly says "okay see you tomorrow, y/n. love you, bye!!" he says as he swings away. You laugh and walk back to your bed and got under the covers. Going to sleep with thoughts of this new-found love.

do not plagiarize, translate,or repost my work.

finished- June 14, 2023 , 3:09 PM

#🎀—⋆·˚ ༘❛ 𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔˚ ༘♡ ⋆‧₊˚#ethan landry fluff #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry scream #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 6 imagines #scream franchise #scream imagine #scream 6 #scream vi #scream fanfic #scream x reader

184 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 28 days

Text

too late

Dave York x f!reader | 18+ | 4.6k words | masterlist | ao3

summary: Dave hasn’t see her in years, but he knew she would find him again.

a/n: this is for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! ok so my prompt was dark fic and "You should've pulled the trigger when you had a chance.” I've been calling this "baby's first dark fic" for days because it is 😭 and it's probably not that dark. but it's what I could do 🤷🏻‍♀️ it's also my first Dave fic. thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta as always 💕, to @beardedjoel for reading over it and helping and being so encouraging 🧡, and to @goodwithcheese for giving me feedback and helping me make some changes 🧡

tags/warnings: darkish fic, assassins doing assassin things (including killing some guys, not described in detail), flirting, betrayal, seduction, one character drugs another without their knowledge (not for sex), guns, hidden intentions, smut: kissing, groping, manhandling, ripping underwear, pet names (baby, good girl), fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected), creampie

...

Dave wasn’t someone who fidgeted, as a rule. He might seem to fidget, when necessary, as part of a cover or a ruse, but it was never unintentional. Every motion was planned, considered. Part of his work.

But when he fixed his cuff links just then, it wasn’t planned.

He’d looked up from his drink, turning away from the open bar to scan the room of wealthy socialites for his target. His eyes had cataloged the people he’d known would be there and skipped over them. He’d stepped away from the bar to set his drink on a high top table and, in a manner totally unlike himself, like some sort of amateur, he’d frozen. When his eyes had landed on her.

She’d been looking back at him.

She’d looked just as good as the last time he’d seen her, at least two years before (2 years, 3 months and 10 days, a voice whispered at the back of his mind). The dress she was wearing drew his eyes like a magnet and he’d remained frozen as he traced its lines before snapping his gaze back up to her face.

She’d smirked.

And then he’d blinked as a server had passed in front of her. She’d disappeared.

He’d cleared his throat and fumbled with his cuff links, off-kilter in a way that wasn’t like him. Wasn’t the way he did things.

Dave shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn’t good. He needed to get back on track, or call it. And he didn’t want to call it.

“Boss?” He heard the quiet voice of one of his guys in his hidden earpiece and picked up his drink. “I said, target in the northwest corner of the ballroom.”

Dave turned slowly to his left as if he was looking for someone he knew and his eyes traveled over the target’s back.

She was standing right next to them. He resisted the urge to curse.

He hid the small movement of his lips behind his glass, and murmured, “foxtrot.” That was the code that would tell his men to pack it up and rendezvous in 48 hours at one of the safe houses. He could feel their surprise in the long pause before a response – they’d been prepping this job for weeks. But he couldn’t explain now.

“Understood.” The line went quiet and Dave started to casually make his way to the exit at the opposite end of the ballroom from where she still stood next to the target.

His exit went smoothly – this was easier than the job would have been, anyway – and he turned to head down the hall towards the entrance. The hall was starting to empty as people joined the party, but he could see a line of people waiting to come in at the entrance. He decided to take the side exit that would give him some cover as he made his way to the car his men had stashed in the parking deck two blocks away.

This turned out to be the wrong decision.

As he stepped onto the dark side street, he started to scan his surroundings as usual. Before he could do more than check the busy intersection with the main road to the left, he felt someone step up behind him and the unpleasant sensation of a gun in his back.

“Hello, Dave.”

…

2 years, 3 months, and 15 days earlier

There was someone else on the job.

Dave had seen the signs, but he wasn’t certain until now – someone else was after their target. He’d started to feel them like a shadow, a few steps behind his team as they planned and prepared. But tonight they’d gotten ahead of him.

One of his guys had gone for another routine check of the art gallery where the target would be hosting an event. They’d found the back door unlocked (sloppy, Dave muttered to himself). Whoever it was had left a clear path through the building for anyone who knew how to look, but had slipped out before Dave’s guy could so much as realize the problem.

Now they knew for certain. This new competitor might be an amateur, but they were after the same target.

Dave pressed his palms to his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. Shit. Now they had to split their focus – the target, and whoever this asshole was that was mucking up the job. He didn’t have time for this.

In the end, though, it was easier to identify them than he’d even bothered to hope.

The gallery was hosting a different group 3 nights before the event, and so Dave and one of his guys were planning to go and do some recon while the place was crowded. It turned out the opposition had the same idea.

Dave was standing in front of some sort of art with a drink in his hand when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Someone was watching him.

He finished his drink and turned, as if he was looking for somewhere to put it down. As he scanned the room, he spotted them.

He spotted her.

She was standing with a small group, posture relaxed and open as she chatted with them. But he clocked her (and her thigh holster) immediately. Distantly he noted that she was incredibly attractive, though she was trying to hide it with her outfit and makeup.

Dave began to circle around the room towards the bar. He kept her in view as he got a new drink and began to move through the exhibits again. His path took him to her side of the room, until he stopped just close enough to hear her group’s conversation as he pretended to study the work in front of him.

“--you know how he feels about modern art.” Her voice did not betray any sort of tension – she was better at this than breaking and entering, at least.

He continued to eavesdrop, but the conversation wasn’t interesting. So he focused on her instead. As he moved slowly around her group, taking in the art, he realized he knew who she was – new on the scene, but he’d heard of her. He could tell she was aware of him, too. He wondered if she knew that he knew, if she was good enough to read him like he could read her.

She answered that question only a few moments later.

“Excuse me,” he heard her say as she turned away from the group towards the restrooms. When she was about 20 feet away, he turned to follow. Dave didn’t look at her as he walked.

But when he turned the corner into the long hallway with the bathrooms, she was gone.

“Looking for someone?” Dave didn’t give her the victory of startling, but it was close. She was standing behind him. He turned slowly and calmly to face her.

“Looking for the restroom,” he returned, voice mild.

She raised a single eyebrow at him and he pretended not to notice how attractive it was. “Oh, are we playing that game?” Her tone matched his.

“And what game is that?” Dave leaned against the wall next to him and crossed his arms.

She smirked and stepped closer to him. “The game, David York, where we pretend not to know exactly who we are. And why we’re here.” She was new at this, he could tell, even if she was affecting confidence. He leaned in and watched as her eyes drifted downward against her will. He didn’t smirk.

Ah, he thought, as a new path opened in front of him. He didn’t have to get rid of her, after all. And it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.

“Who’s pretending? I know your name, too. And I’ve known you were on this job for weeks.” He didn’t mention the fact that he hadn’t known she was his opponent until he recognized her in the gallery.

She was surprised but hid it well. “And you’re just talking to me now?”

Dave pushed off the wall and stepped towards her again, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Wanted to see what you can do, first. That was sloppy last night.”

He watched the corner of her mouth tick down, but she didn’t give into the frown. New at this, but not too new.

“I didn’t realize I was on a try out.” Her voice was stiff now. He didn’t smile.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? Why you approached me tonight?” He watched her avoid admitting it. “Well, you did well in there. You’ve got some promise.”

She was angry now, he could see it slipping through the cracks in her facade. But she wasn’t angry enough to walk away from this just yet.

“Promise?” She kept her voice mild, anyway. That was good.

Dave just looked at her for a moment. He could see the tension in her body as she kept herself from fidgeting. She still had a lot to learn.

“So, what? You want to work together?” He let his skepticism show in his voice and watched as her spine stiffened in response.

She crossed her arms. “Look, Dave. You need me.”

He let his eyebrows raise slowly. “Oh?”

She nodded. “I know you haven’t figured out the approach, yet. That’s my specialty.”

He mirrored her and crossed his arms. She was right, but he didn’t show it. “Don’t need it. Plenty of chances when he’ll be alone.”

She shook her head as if he’d disappointed her. “You and I both know that’s harder to plan for. I can get him from the party. Guarantee it, instead.”

Dave regarded her silently. She seemed confident, and he’d just watched her perform – she was right that she was good at that part, at least. Just new to the rest of it and unable to learn on her own.

He stepped closer again and pressed one palm into the wall by her head. She blinked. He knew this was what she was hoping to see from him. It didn’t hurt that the attraction he felt was genuine – easier to make it believable that way.

“And what’s in it for me?”

Her eyes narrowed. He could see that she was interested, too interested, but wouldn’t admit it so easily. “Not that.” Her voice was flat. He allowed himself to smirk, finally, and watched the effect it had on her. “But I can guarantee you success. Something you can’t do on your own.”

That, at least, was partially true, based on what he’d seen. “Then what’s in it for you?”

She stepped around him and turned to walk down the hall. “A share of the payout.” And the experience she still needed on the job, but that went unsaid by both of them.

He watched her walk away and reached into his pocket to find the scrap of paper she had just slipped inside. A phone number.

Dave already knew he was going to call, but it was better to make her wait.

…

Two nights later, you’d finally been introduced to his team in preparation for the job.

He’d made you wait. It didn’t surprise you. You knew he thought you couldn’t read him, but you could see his interest in you well enough. But he had to pretend he didn’t want you, didn’t want your help. You knew the game.

But now you were involved and less than 24 hours out from the job. You heard footsteps approaching your little corner of their workspace and turned to find him leaning against the table behind you.

“You ready?” He affected the same mild tone he’d used when you first met, but you could see through it now.

“Of course.” You’d relaxed a bit and you knew he could hear the slight annoyance in your tone.

Dave smiled. “Good.” He stepped closer and leaned against your desk right next to your chair. You looked up at him, leaning back as far as you could. “You’re not bad, for someone so new at this.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you for admitting it.”

He shook his head. “I knew that, from the night we met.” He tilted his head and lifted one hand to trace his fingertips down your jaw. “Might be interesting, having you around.”

You tried not to look affected, or at least not as interested as you were in that possibility. “For the job?”

He hummed and cupped your cheek. “And for after, maybe.”

You blinked. That was unexpected.

“After we see how this job goes, of course.”

You nodded slowly, surprised. You’d hoped for this outcome, when you approached him, but he’d seemed so aloof.

“You’re not just saying that because you’re attracted to me, I hope.” You tried for a teasing tone and his thumb stroked your cheek.

“I am attracted to you,” he confirmed, voice even and direct. It made you shiver. “And you’re attracted to me.”

Dave leaned down until his face was level with yours, only inches away. “But that’s not part of the job.” You blinked, staring at his mouth. “Why don’t you show me what you’re planning to do tomorrow. To get his attention.”

You frowned. “We already talked about it.”

Dave shook his head, standing up again. “I want you to show me, now.” You looked around and noticed everyone else had left. “That’s right, just you and me. Show me what you can do.”

He seemed serious. You stood and shook out your shoulders. You shifted your weight and fell into the persona you’d use the next night, the woman who would approach the target and lure him away.

As you took a step towards Dave, you saw his eyes widen a bit. Good.

“Well, I’ll make eye contact and flirt a little – make him approach me, not the other way around.” You raised one hand to trail your fingertips down his chest and you watched as he drew in a deep breath. “But I’ll let him talk to me and get me a drink, when he does.” You stepped closer and noticed Dave’s eyes dipped to your chest. “And when he flirts more, I’ll be impressed. When he compliments me, I’ll act shy, a little innocent.” You pressed both hands to his chest now and ran them upwards until you could link your fingers behind his neck. “He’ll lean in, and I’ll be flattered.” You leaned in to speak into Dave’s ear and watched his hands flex around the lip of the table he was leaning against. “In the end, all it will take is wide eyes while I place my hand on his arm or his chest.” You covered the remaining distance between you and pressed the length of your body against his. He was warm and firm – you could feel his strength. “And then he’ll feel like he’s in control when I leave with him.” You felt Dave’s hands come up to grip your waist and you bit back on a grin.

“And so he won’t be thinking of anything but me when I slip the drugs into his drink in the hotel room and let you in to finish the job.” You were whispering now and you could feel Dave’s cock hardening against your thigh.

You paused, and let your demeanor shift back to your own.

“Well?” You felt Dave’s hands tighten on your waist in his surprise at the normal tone of your voice. “What do you think?”

His arms slipped around your back and he pulled you closer before growling into your ear, “I think you’re ready.” And then he leaned back so that he could crush his lips to yours.

It was a searing kiss. It stole your breath, from the first moment – you felt it crash over you and vibrate down your spine.

You knew he wanted you. You wanted him, too, but you wanted in more, and this was your way in.

…

Dave watched without watching as she lured in the target at the party the next night. She was doing well, as she’d promised – with the shy looks and the lingering eye contact he could tell that the man was about two minutes away from giving in and crossing the room to talk to her.

He let his mind wander to the night before – he’d kissed her against the desk but hadn’t let it go any farther. She was gagging for it, he could tell, and he was going to use that to his advantage soon enough.

The target approached and fell for all of it. Right on time she stood up and began to walk towards the back hall. Dave made his way there slowly, following as they exited and walked the two blocks to the target’s hotel.

Everything went according to plan – the hotel, the drugs, the ambush. Dave killed the man in his bed and removed the evidence. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she pocketed the tech that was the real prize, smirking to himself before they all slipped out into the night with no one the wiser.

Dave was letting himself ride the high of a job well done when she followed him to his hotel room later that night, as he’d known she would. He softened his smirk into a smile before he turned around to find her right behind him at his door.

“Coming in?” he asked as he swung it open behind him.

“Are we done pretending you don’t want this?” She raised an eyebrow at him as she crossed the threshold, and he grinned.

“Yes, we are.”

…

Dave grabbed you by the waist and pushed you backwards into the door. You sucked in a sharp breath. “Wanted this,” he muttered into your neck before biting down, leaving a mark with his teeth. Your eyes widened. “You looked so good, baby, working the room.” He pressed hot kisses down your neck as he pulled the zipper down the back of your dress. It slid easily to the floor, leaving you in nothing but lace-trimmed underwear underneath. Dave growled. “And I know you wanted it too.”

He pulled you into a searing kiss and reached behind you to grab your ass, fingers twisting in the lace. You felt it tear in his hand before he ripped them off of you with a snarl. “Isn’t that right?”

Your legs almost gave out at the possessiveness in his voice. Yes, this – this was what you’d wanted since you first saw him. You’d known you would need to impress him and you could barely believe you’d succeeded.

“Dave–” you were breathing heavily and leaning against the door. His eyes swept over you and he grinned, wicked. “Touch me.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” His voice was dark and you shivered again. He was still fully clothed and it made you squirm with desire. “C’mere.”

He tugged you towards the bed and threw you down so hard you bounced. “I know you want it, baby. And I know just how to give it to you.” He crawled on top of you and captured your mouth in another kiss as his hand trailed down your stomach to tease along your slit. “Hmm, you didn’t get wet like this for him, did you?”

You shook your head. “No–” your hips stuttered as he nudged his fingers inside to tease at your entrance.

He rose up on his elbow to look down at you. “No,” he repeated. He smirked again as his fingers slipped inside. “Good girl.”

Dave worked you over quickly, drawing an orgasm out of you faster than you’d ever felt before. You were shaking as you felt it climb up your spine, shuddering as you fell over the edge, moaning as it swept you away.

When you blinked your eyes open, you found him smirking at you again. “You’re gorgeous when you come.”

The compliments, the way he’d spoken to you since you crossed his threshold – it was all starting to settle and warm something inside of you in a way that frightened you. You pulled him down into a kiss, ignoring it.

You reached down to tug at the button on his pants and felt him smile into your mouth. “Want something?” His tone was lighter, suddenly, and you wondered if this was what he was like when his walls were coming down.

“You know what I want, Dave.” You pushed at his pants until he assisted by tugging them down just far enough for his cock to spring forward, hard and big. You wrapped your hand around it.

He looked at you and smirked again. “Oh, good girl,” he leaned in to run his teeth down your neck and palmed your breast. Dave reached down and lifted your right leg, knee to your chest. “Such a pretty pussy,” he praised, and you sighed. “Let me see it.”

He urged you to hold your legs open, gripping behind your knees. It felt suddenly obscene, holding yourself open for his gaze as he kneeled before you fully clothed with his cock out. You felt yourself get wetter and knew he could tell.

He grasped his cock at the root and leaned forward to tease it through your folds. You looked down and moaned when you saw your own arousal glistening on the head of his cock.

“Well, baby, keep your eyes on me.” He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and started to push forward. You almost let go of your knees, reaching for him, but he stopped. “No, keep your hands there,” he scolded. When you got back into position he pushed forward again, all the way in until you were so full you felt your eyes roll back.

Dave grabbed your chin roughly. “Look at me.” His tone was commanding and you blinked until you could do as he said. “You keep your eyes on me.” It was an order. You nodded. He raised his eyebrows and shook your head by the chin.

“Um,” you cleared your throat and felt his cock throb within you. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “Good girl.”

It was harder than you could have imagined, not closing your eyes when he started to thrust. It felt delicious, the way his cock filled you up and touched every part of you. But you did it. You watched him, eyes darting over his face and down to where your hips met and back up.

He watched your face the whole time, never looking away.

“That’s good,” he praised, leaning forward to kiss you. “Hold on tight.”

He sat back and grabbed your thighs where you held them open for leverage. His next thrust was harder and faster and so was the next. You keened.

“Just like that, baby,” he breathed. “Take it.”

You nodded, eyes locked on his as you held your legs open for him to fuck you.

“Look at you.” He picked up the pace. “So desperate for it, hmm? So beautiful like this.”

You blinked, and his brow furrowed. “Eyes on me.” You nodded, mouth falling open as you heaved in heavy breaths.

Dave released his grip on your thigh and moved his right hand to your pussy. “Now,” his voice was deeper than ever, “you’re going to come on my cock. And then I’m going to come inside you.”

You nodded, eagerly. He smirked. “Good.”

He worked your clit with his fingers until your legs were shaking in your grasp. The unrelenting thrusts combined with the way he toyed with you pushed you over the edge before you even felt it coming. Your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, and your next breath was a sob.

“Good girl,” he snarled, hips thrusting harder. He replaced your hands with his own and pushed your knees into your chest. “Now, watch.” You did and you marveled at the sight of him as he reached his own peak and lost himself inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you afterwards and for a moment neither of you did anything but breathe.

Dave flopped to the side, pulling out in a way that made you gasp.

“You know,” his chest was heaving just as much as yours and it made you smile. “I’ve never worked with a partner.”

“Well.” You turned on your side and ran your hand over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I think you could use one.”

He hummed, but didn’t answer.

A few minutes later he got up to get you some water, but you didn’t notice when he slipped something into your drink.

…

Early in the morning, Dave slipped out of bed easily, knowing you would still be sleeping off the effects of the drug for a few more hours. He dressed quickly and looked down at you, watching you breathe. He didn’t feel any regret – it had all gone according to plan, after all. Teasing you and drawing you in until you couldn’t help but follow him here, couldn’t help but believe he wanted the same things you did.

And so he’d gotten what he wanted from you. It was time to go.

He slipped the small hard drive from the pocket of your coat and removed all evidence of himself from the room. He left without looking back.

…

You went after him.

Of course you did. You’d woken, groggy, unable to open your eyes and feeling like you’d been hit with a bag of bricks.

“Dave?” You’d groaned, voice scratchy. You’d reached for him, but his side of the bed had been empty and cold. You’d opened your eyes, finally, and found the room around you empty of everything but your clothes, which had been folded neatly on the desk.

It had taken only a moment for the truth to set in, and you’d felt it like a dagger to the heart – he’d drugged you. He’d used you, taken advantage of your lack of experience, let you see what you wanted to see in him, and then left you here, alone. Your eyes had darted to your jacket, but you’d known even before you’d checked. He’d taken the hard drive, too.

No one had heard your muffled screams as you buried your face in your pillow. And no one had noticed when something that had still been soft hardened within you.

You’d been angry. And then you’d turned it into something you could use.

You tracked him and his team. Took out two of them. Followed them to the marina, to the boat they were going to use to escape.

Just as you were about to step onto the dock, you froze and looked down.

The red dot of a sniper rifle scope appeared on your chest. You whipped your head back up and found him, at the far end of the dock, rifle pointed towards you. He stood on the open deck of the boat. You could hear the engine start.

You couldn’t move. You just watched as the boat started to pull into the bay. But you saw the moment he decided not to take the shot.

Dave lowered the rifle and looked at you. You couldn’t see his expression from so far away, but you knew he was looking. You looked back until you couldn’t see him anymore.

…

Present day

“Hello, Dave.”

Her voice sent a shiver down his spine. Fuck, he thought. He’d known that this was coming, but not when.

He’d heard talk of what she’d been doing since he left her on that dock. She gained a reputation. He knew she was skilled, and now so did everyone else in the business.

Dave didn’t regret it, but he sometimes wished he could. He opened his mouth, “You–”

“Shhh,” she hushed him, leaning closer. “It’s too late for that. You should've pulled the trigger when you had a chance.”

...

a/n: how did I do? *hides*

tag list: let me know if you only want to be on the Maintenance Request list! @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites @fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes @islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @pigeonmama @littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @katareyoudrilling

#dave york x reader #writing challenge 2.0 #dave york x you #dave york smut #dave york x f!reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york #x reader #too late fic

39 notes · View notes

creedslove · 8 months

Note

i saw a post on here abt how feral one may go when a guy gets hard for like idk you making cute things or cuddling or reading and is so marcus and dave coded and i can't stop thinking abt it

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: I agree, but I already wrote about Marcus' housewife kink and I feel I've been neglecting our murder husband Dave 🤧

• Dave is a man who is a sucker for ordinary things, normality and domesticity because he has to deal with so much shit at work, death, pain, blood, tears, fear, it's just exhausting so he gets really happy when he comes home to a beautiful woman doing her normal things

• and also, we gotta keep in mind Dave is kind of obsessed with you; he loves you, but like, he LOVES you to the point you are his life and he would do anything for you, he would die and he would kill for you, so that means that man is crazy about the slightest things you do

• you know about his job because Dave couldn't keep the truth from you, but only after you got suspicious when you found out some blood stains in his clothes after a trip he took on business and he was terrified you would run away from him, that couldn't be further from the truth because you loved him, but you came to an agreement you wouldn't discuss work at home, since it was quite of a depressing subject

• so you would only talk about the normal aspects of it, like if it was tiring or not, a tough or easy day but deep down you knew it affected and bothered Dave to no end so you just liked keeping things normal for your man

• and he took that effort in many ways, in a romantic instance, but Dave is a man who responds to things very physically and passionately which means he always gets turned on 🫦

• he just loves coming home to you and seeing you in your pretty short clothes doing the most normal things in the world

• it makes him weak to see you cooking for him, baking him a fresh batch of cookies or a cake

• he absolutely loves when you are all focused reading on the couch, he likes watching you and seeing the expressions you don't realize you have on while you are so into your story

• he loves how not afraid of him you are, overall Dave is an intimidating man, so even if you don't know his job, it is not unusual for people to be wary of him, but not you

• you treat the great hitman Dave York as your personal cuddly bear, wrapping your arms around him, snuggling him, playing with his hair, kissing all over his face and biting him playfully

• it doesn't take much for Dave to pop a boner with you, he's just crazy for you and there's nothing that could change that

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york headcanons #dave york headcanon

82 notes · View notes

theywhowriteandknowthings · 7 months

Text

The Princess and The Duke Chapter 2 More than meets the Eye Stepdad!Dave York x Cam Worker!Reader

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. 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: None, still pretty tame, some sexual tension, Dave getting angry, angst from both, mutual pining, reader is such a brat.

Graphics made by me - Images used for effect, they are not intended to race-code or gender-code reader. Thank you again to @patti7dc and @lucyeyelesbarrow for beta-ing! Read on AO3

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Your mom arrived home at the same time as you, her makeup a mess and her clothes dishevelled. Panic rose in your throat as you hurried over to her cherry-red Escalade. You had called out to Dave for help, only for his terrified look to drop into something you could only call an acceptance of inevitability.

He helped you get your mom into bed with minimal effort and now you’re sat, fingers drumming angrily on the breakfast island as you chew through your cold burger and fries. You can hear your mom and Dave bickering upstairs as Dave’s double cheeseburger with extra bacon sits in its foil across from you.

You can’t explain it, the heat rising in your chest as you listen to your mom scold Dave like he was the one to traipse back into the house looking like he’d fucked half the neighbourhood. For sure, good on your mom for having a great time, but not at the expense of someone so fucking undeserving as Dave.

I’ve known this man less than forty-eight hours and already I want to protect him like a kicked puppy.

You scold yourself internally as you put Dave’s untouched burger and fries in the fridge, if he doesn’t eat it, you will devour it later. You dump your wrappers in the trash and head up to your new room. Your head is spinning, the fucked-up scenes of your mom coming home smelling of cheap cologne and another man’s sweat and Dave just accepting it playing over and over. It makes you angry in a way you can’t place.

You’re pacing as you draw a bath, your angst playlist raging through your Bluetooth speaker as you try to sift through the jet lag, anger, and for some reason, shame. You’re not even sure why you’re so angry. Is it because your mom didn’t text you? Even after you texted her? Or is it because she’s clearly cheating on Dave and that he knows.

You pull up local events on your phone, looking for something, anything going on tonight so you could make an excuse to be out of the house. You’re angry at them both. Your mom for cheating on what you could only ever describe as a fine ass man.

And then there’s Dave.

You’re furious at him for being so self-assured and interesting around you, only to roll over and let your mom verbally abuse him the moment she graced his home – their home – with her disgraceful state. You’re too angry to rationalise or even justify the feelings coiling and writhing in your chest. You’ve known Dave properly for less than two days, but fuck, you’re livid.

You’ve often hated ex-boyfriends and flings of your mom’s and for good reason. Darren was an alcoholic, even rivalling your mom’s drinking. Jason was a bland man with no discernible positive qualities, but from the noises that came from your mom and his bedroom at that one lake-house vacation, you could tell he could fuck. And then there’s Dave.

Handsome, funny, smart, capable. And this is how she treats him?

You feel like you’re losing it, you’re twisting yourself into knots over a marriage that has existed for just over a year. Over a man you barely know, and a mother you know all too well to be surprised at. You hear the gurgle of the bath’s overflow and catch it just before it spills over.

You turn off the faucet just in time and sigh as you slump down onto your knees. You rest your head against the tub as you mash out an angry text to your dad.

You: wtf is wrong with mom?

Your message is seen almost immediately before three dots appear in a ripple as he texts back.

Dad: Warum? Was ist los?

You: Vater, Englisch.

You type back, already smiling through your foul mood as your dad messes with you. You’re more or less fluent verbally but you always struggle to read and write it, and he knows it.

Dad: Ok, what’s going on?

You: She’s cheating on her new husband already, what the fuck?!

The dance of three dots plays out for some time, then disappear and leave you hanging. You press the heel of your palms into your eyes before you pull them away to up the volume on your speaker through your phone.

You hear your mom shouting at you from outside the door to turn the music down and suddenly you’re fifteen again, you feel small and pathetic as you turn the volume down a little and slide into the bath with a sigh. You flick through local events and see there’s a blues night at a local club and make a note of it before a message from an unknown number pops up in your notifications.

Unknown: Hey, can we talk? It’s Dave.

You consider telling him to go fuck himself, or simply responding with a curt no. But you refrain from answering, dropping your phone onto the bathmat before submerging yourself under the hot, lavender-scented bath water. Your fingers slide over your skin as you decide an orgasm would make you feel better. It does, but morbidly, only because your mind is still full of thoughts of Dave.

~*~

The jazz club is packed as you try and find somewhere to sit, your overpriced beer in one hand, your phone in the other. You navigate groups of people of all ages as you appreciate the exposed brickwork and hardwood flooring of the establishment. You adjust your tight black leather trousers as you sit down, your crimson, strapless bustier a little slutty for the occasion but you don’t care. With any luck you’re going to get laid tonight.

Anything beats going home.

You’re off towards the side of the stage, the view less than optimal but that doesn’t really matter as you’re not really here for the show. You just needed to get out of that fucking house. You’d taken a painfully expensive Uber to get here, and you were going to make the most of it.

You scroll through your phone as you hear the musicians tuning up back-stage. Your father still hasn’t texted you back, and Dave has left a string of messages but you’re leaving him on read. You’d snuck out of the house earlier without either of them seeing.

Dave: Please, your mother is worried about you, she’s sorry she forgot your flight was yesterday.

Dave: Can you at least text her to let her know where you are?

Dave: Get home safe.

The last message pulls at your chest as you re-read the messages. You sigh and wiggle your thumbs over the keyboard, trying to decide if you want to answer him or not, but before you can make that decision the band comes on stage.

“Thank you all for coming out here tonight, we’re the Bluez Brotherz and we’ve got some killer tunes for you tonight. Enjoy!”

You look up from your phone and your mouth drops open in bemusement. True to their name, all four men are wearing dark suits, black ties, sunglasses and black fedoras. Just like in the film. But that’s not what shocks you, you’d seen their band name on the event page.

No, what has you reeling is the saxophone player. It’s Dave.

You pull up your camera and take photos, you need evidence of this to lord over Dave at a later date, when you hope you can stop being angry at him. The band starts with a cover of Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones, and you can’t help but like them already.

You sip on your beer as you occasionally take some more photos of Dave on the sly. But for the most part, you just listen to the music, and study Dave from your seat. They reach the middle of their set and take a break for refreshments. Dave sets down his silver saxophone on a stand and hops off the stage. You watch as women fawn over him as he makes his way to the bar, you can hardly blame them, you were only touching yourself in the bath to thoughts of him this morning.

You decide to make your move as he reaches the bar, you need another drink anyway. You saunter up to him, low heels clicking on the hardwood floors, a plan formulating already as you practice a few voice training exercises to get your throat warmed up.

~*~

Dave orders for the whole band as they schmooze with some of the event attendees. He isn’t built for small talk and fending off women. So, as always, he volunteered to get the intermission drinks.

“Hey there handsome, you look good with a saxophone between your lips, seems like you’re pretty good with your mouth huh?”

The all too familiar voice makes Dave flinch visibly as he recognises Princess Luna’s voice. He turns slowly, and his stomach drops as he sees who’s voice it actually is. You.

“Chill the fuck out Dave, I’m just messing with you.”

Your affected voice is gone and Dave freezes for a moment, unsure if he was imagining Princess Luna’s voice when he heard you speak, or if you really did affect your voice to disguise it. He’s not sure which thought is more troubling.

But one thing is for certain, he is glad to see you. Your mother hadn’t so much as talked about you all day, his texts were a lie. It was him who was worried about you, she seemingly couldn’t care less. That troubled Dave, and he wondered if his daughters would be so estranged from him some day if he didn’t make amends with them.

~*~

“Dave?”

Your voice snaps him out of his spiral and he gives you a stern look. It makes you thrum with arousal, the way his brow creases, his jaw set in a hard line as he purses his lips. His hand flexes into a fist on the bar as his nostrils flare.

“Sorry I just didn’t expect you to be here.” He mutters as his drinks are placed on the bar.

“Right back at you,” You grumble, annoyed you didn’t get the response you were hoping for, even a hint of a laugh would have been enough, but clearly, you’ve hit a nerve, “I can leave if this makes you uncomfortable?”

Daves eyes go wide as he wraps his fingers around the bottle necks, condensation beading over his skin and you try not to stare. His face softens and he lets out a deep, emotive sigh as he turns to face you fully.

“Fuck, no. Sorry it’s just been a long day, could we sit down and talk after this? Get something to eat?”

His flustered response has your heart beating hard in your chest and you try not to whine at the smell of his cologne and the way sweat beads on his temple from the exertion of playing with such passion you can barely believe it’s him up there playing the sax.

“Sounds good, I was just going to eat your left-over burger and fries when I got home, so this is a step up.”

Dave’s lips curl up into an incredulous smile as he looks you up and down with a quick flick of his dark eyes. You’re glad you’d dressed up a little, instead of turning up in an old boyfriend’s hoodie and jeans like you’d initially planned.

“Alright, meet me backstage after the show.”

“Yes, sir!” You give him a mock salute and you clock the way Dave’s pupils dilate at the word sir. Yet another piece of information to file away in your mental David York Dossier. You swear he grumbles something under his breath as you turn back to order a drink.

“Hey Francis, this one’s on my tab.” He points at you with his thumb as the bartender reaches you.

“You got it Dave, what can I get for you?”

The man behind the bar is slight, a cropped beard accenting his strong jaw as his ice blue eyes are somehow penetrating yet warm at the same time.

“Just a beer, not about to take advantage of my-,” You pause, almost calling him your stepdad but you stop yourself, it still feels wrong to think about him that way, “My mom’s husband.”

“Uh-huh, good on you, one beer coming up.”

~*~

You watch the rest of the show from the bar, perched on a stool in full view of the stage. Dave plays like his life depends on it, revealing to you a side of him you never could have expected. He’s passionate and full of vigour and it does nothing but stoke the fire in your belly as you watch him lose himself to the music.

As their final set finishes, you’re clapping along like a seal on Adderall. The music was beautiful but the soul and passion the whole band had for it all made your heart swell with happiness. You almost forget you’re mad at Dave.

“So, what did you think?” Dave asks as you hover around the stage as the band packs up. You offered to help but it became painfully obvious that they were a well-oiled machine, you’d probably only interfere.

“It was great, I’ve always loved rhythm and blues, and your Stones covers were magnificent.” You gush, genuinely in awe at it all.

“Yeah? Your mom hates the stuff, so I wouldn’t have expected it to be your thing.”

“One thing you’re going to come to realise Dave, is that my mom and I are very different people.”

“Yeah, seems that way.”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, tension rolling off him as he takes a deep breath. The anger from before bubbles up again and you shake your head in disbelief. This ridiculous submission to your mother’s behaviour sours the idea of spending any more time with Dave.

“Actually David, do you know what? I’m going to head home, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now.”

Dave’s eyes snap open and there’s a darkness there, it’s cold and menacing as you take an instinctive step back. Your skin pebbles with goosebumps as you take another step. Dave moves as if to touch your arm as his face softens instantly, but you’re not having it.

“I’m getting an Uber home, don’t fucking follow me.”

Dave calls your name as you storm out, you catch Francis out of the corner of your eye, standing at the bar, looking at you with a bemused grin. You flip him off without looking in his direction. Dave calls your name again, louder this time. But you lose him in the throng of people outside. You duck down an alley and hide behind a dumpster.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you scold yourself for acting like a fucking child.

“You’re turning thirty fucking years old next month, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

~*~

Dave is livid, scanning the sea of people outside the club, desperately tyring to pick you out. You have no right to speak to him like that. No-one speaks to him like that.

“Fucking brat.”

He hisses under his breath as he pulls out his phone to call you, it’s late, you’ve had a few beers, and despite being mad at you, he’s worried. Ever since he picked you up there’s been a burning desire to protect you seated deep in his chest. And he’s blown it already.

“She’s not going to go home with you man,” Francis’s voice makes Dave jump, and immediately he reaches for his gun. Or rather, where his gun would be if he was carrying, “Let her go.”

“Francis, if I wanted you advice I’d fucking ask for it.” Dave snarls as he tries to play off his panicked grab for the phantom chest holster as adjusting his suit jacket. Francis just leans against the brick wall of the club, taking a long, pointed draw on his vape pen. A cloud of strawberry flavoured vapour billowing over Dave as he wrinkles his nose up at the stench.

“How long has she been staying with you?”

“What?” Dave asks, blinking a few times in shock at the question.

“Simple question man, how long?”

“Since yesterday.”

Francis’s eyebrows raise at that and a smirk twitches across his lips.

“Uh-huh, and you and her mom,” Francis says with venom lacing his tone as he mentions her, “Been together what? A year?”

“Get to the fucking point Francis.” Dave snaps as he resumes his search for you in the thinning crowd but with no luck. He’s furious at himself, this is literally his job, finding people, and yet you’re eluding him like it’s nothing.

“How is it that I’ve never met her mom, and on the first damned night your stepdaughter is in town, she just waltzes in and can’t take her eyes off you?”

“Fucking hell Francis, she didn’t even know I played until she saw me on stage.” Dave’s the one getting angry now, he and Francis have been friends for a very long time, but he doesn’t appreciate the insinuation. He also doesn’t appreciate how his chest constricts at the thought of you unable to take your eyes off him.

“Sure, but the universe works in mysterious ways Dave, watch yourself around her.”

“Francis, if you don’t shut the-!”

“There she is, getting into that Uber.” Francis points with his vape pen towards you scrambling out of an alley and into your cab. Dave glares at you, then at Francis before storming off wordlessly, saxophone case gripped tightly in his hand.

As he gets to his car he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He opens the message without hesitation, but it only makes his blood boil.

You: Don’t even bother trying to talk to me when you get home.

It takes every last shred of self-control for Dave not to throw his saxophone case against the floor in frustration. He takes a steadying breath before loading up his car and driving home.

~*~

You arrive home much later than Dave, your Uber driver definitely fucking you over to make a better rate but you’re too tired and frustrated to care. You barge through the front door, not caring who sees you. Then you hear it, your mom’s voice calling your name from the kitchen and you sigh.

“Hey mom, what’s up?”

“Come in here, have a drink with me.” She’s slurring and you roll your eyes as you do as you’re told, kicking off your shoes before heading into the sad beige kitchen.

“What’re you drinking?”

You ask as you take in your mother, perched in the same stool as Dave was this morning. Her wine glass full with some kind of rosé and you gag internally.

“Wine, you want some?” She waves the almost empty bottle enthusiastically and you roll your eyes, heading to the fridge.

“Nah I’ll get a beer or something.” You call over your shoulder as you immediately look for the burger and fries you stashed away earlier, ready to dump it all into the air fryer to freshen it up. But it’s gone, you grumble to yourself as you grab some European import lager and shut the fridge.

You sit in the same seat as this morning and watch as your mom scrolls through Instagram with one hand as she slurps on her wine with the other. You tap out a rhythm on the counter with your fingertips.

“So, did you want to chat or?”

“Hmmm?” Your mom asks without even looking up. You roll your eyes and decide to change tactics.

“Dave home yet?”

“Grumpy bastard’s sulking in his man cave, seems like his evening was a bummer.” She actually fucking laughs. Your blood boils as you shake your head, you feel like you should apologise, especially now. You were taking your frustrations out on the wrong person, even if you are still mad at Dave, he clearly was having the worst night of you all.

“At least he’s got a burger to cheer him up.” You grumble to yourself as you look down the hall, you can see the basement door is open. You wonder if you should go down there to say you’re sorry.

“Oh that crap? I threw it out, you know I don’t like that garbage in the house.”

“Alright, well, this was nice.” You sigh as you head back to the fridge, downing your beer before getting two fresh ones.

“Night hon.” You mom calls after you absently as you hear the glug of wine as she refills her glass.

“Night mom.”

You could almost laugh at the ridiculous nature of the evening if you weren’t feeling so damned furious at the whole fucked up situation.

“Hey, Dave, you down there?”

You call down the stairwell, not wanting to disturb him if he was busy, or wanted to be left alone. You hear your name called from within and the way Dave says it with such hope has you biting your lip.

“Come on down, if you want?”

You don’t answer, instead just heading down without a word, beer bottles in hand as you peer into the so-called “man cave”. In reality it’s a pretty modest space, dark red carpet, mahogany panelled walls.

Dave is sprawled out on an L-shaped sofa in the middle of the room, his suit and fedora replaced by a tired looking green USMC t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His feet are bare, propped up on a glass coffee table as some sci-fi show plays on the tv. The domesticity of the scene makes you smile.

“I come baring a peace offering.” You say as you hold up the beers in your hand, hovering near the end of the sofa as Dave pauses the show.

“With my own beer?” He teases as you sit down next to him, his face set in a teasing smirk as you hand him one of the bottles.

“I’ve lived here less than two days Dave, I’ve not had a chance to do groceries, so take what you’re given.”

“You’re something else.” Dave huffs before you clink bottles in a casual toast.

“Yeah, you’re not the first man to tell me that.” You say with a soft, humourless chuckle. Dave doesn’t press, but you notice the furrow in his brow as he registers your tone.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know this can’t be easy, with me and your mom, and our,” He pauses, waving his free hand in the air as he tries to find the right words, “Situation.”

“Nah, I’ve been a moody bitch since I landed, I over-reacted, and I don’t have any right to be mad, or pass judgement here.”

“You’re not a bitch, but I appreciate it, thanks.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as you both sip pensively on your drinks. It’s not uncomfortable or weird, just a natural lapse in the conversation.

“So, the blues band?” You say with a raised eyebrow, your lips set in a mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” Dave rolls his eyes before taking a long swig of his drink, you have to stop yourself watching the way his neck muscles ripple as he swallows, “What’d you think? Honestly?”

“Honestly?” You waggle your eyebrows at him, “It was very Duke Silver of you, very cool.”

Dave frowns, confusion apparent on his face as you realise he has no clue who that is.

“Oh shit, you’ve never watched Parks and Rec?” You exclaim as you reach for the remote on the coffee table.

“Afraid not.” Dave smiles at your enthusiasm, letting you flick onto YouTube on his smart TV without protest.

“Ok so, don’t bother with the first season, unless you’re some kind of completionist,” You ramble on as you bring up a clip of Nick Offerman playing the sax as Duke Silver, “But it’s great, really witty and fun, and a great way to pass the time, could probably use it to stave off the boredom on your business trips.”

You don’t notice it, but Dave flinches at the mention of his job. He wipes away the grimace before you’re done speaking, plastering a fake smile on his lips as he looks to the screen. His eyes light up as the clip starts. You scoot a little closer to him, eager to see his reaction.

“Hey, that’s Nick Offerman, from The Last of Us!” He points excitedly at the screen as you sit back, watching his reaction to the clip.

“That’s based on a game right?”

“You’ve not seen it? Damn, it’s good!” Dave responds with a shake of his head as he watches the performance.

“I’ll watch it if you promise to watch Parks and Rec?”

“Deal.”

“Oh and I’m ordering pizza, seeing as mom threw out a perfectly good midnight snack, you want anything?”

“If you’re buying?” Dave grins at you before looking back to the Duke Silver compilation, “Damn, that man can actually play the sax!”

“Oh you’re going to love his character in this, I just know it.”

You spend the rest of the night watching the first few episodes of the second season of Parks and Rec, drinking beer, and eating pizza. You catch Dave up on the plot of the first season and he seems to be content with that, already hooked from the first episode.

Dave’s laugh is infectious, and you can’t help but lean in a little as the night goes on.

~*~

Eventually you fall asleep, and Dave keeps watching, turning the volume down as to not disturb you. By the time he’s ready to go to bed it’s gone three in the morning. He covers you with a throw blanket and clears up the beer bottles and pizza boxes before hauling your passed-out mother, still hunched over the breakfast island, to bed.

He descends the stairs to the basement and as expected, you’re still out like a light, snoring gently on the sofa. He pauses for a brief moment, watching your sleeping form for too long to be considered appropriate, but he doesn’t care, not tonight. He flicks the light off and pads into his office, leaving the door ajar just enough so that if you need him, he would hear you.

Dave climbs into bed and smiles to himself. He can’t remember the last time he felt so at peace, nor had such a good night in. He drifts off to the memory of your laughter and the way you fell asleep against him.

He definitely didn’t wrap his arm around you over the back of the sofa at some point during the night, and he certainly did not let you fall asleep against his chest. No, that would have been wrong. So very wrong.

Even if it did feel so right.

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Tag list: @pr0ximamidnight @ktheunready @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @neverwheremoonchild @noisynightmarepoetry @casa-boiardi @xoxabs88xox @guelyury @its-nebuleuse @deadly-femme-bimbo @covetyou @christinamadsen @mirandablue1 @clawdee @youandmeand5bucks-blog @hiddenbabynyc @stevie75 @star017 @vabeachazn @darkheartgatita @patti7dc @pastelnap @beskarandblasters @jksprincess10 @beefrobeefcal

Join my taglist here

Please consider checking out my ko-fi or patreon if you want to support me!

120 notes · View notes

magpiepills · 11 days

Text

Bat Presents:

All content below is 18+ and not intended for minors.

Please do not copy, translate, edit, distribute or print my work, in whole or in part. Not for use with AI. This blog is the sole source of my writing. I am not on Wattpad, ao3, or anywhere else. Please read warnings at the beginning of each fic!

Follow @the-bat-signal-for-fics and turn on notifications to be alerted when I post!

Joel Miller

Only Teasing

Got It Wrong

Taurus

En El Mar

Into The Deep End

Put It In Coach

Made Me Love You (The Bangfest)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Javier Peña

En La Calle

Escritorio

Hard At Work

Aquarius

I’m Not Really A Waitress

DIY

Frankie Morales

Honor And Obey

Say It

The Run

Ezra

Sagittarius

Kill Shot

Not For Nothing

Code Duello

Dieter Bravo

Here Today

For Her Pleasure

Lucky In Kentucky

But Baby, It’s Art

The Oasis

Marcus Pike

Misunderstood

Dave York

Strange Currencies

Din Djarin

A Rite

Marcus Moreno

Girl Lunch

Same Time Next Week

Lucien Flores

Watercolor

Ted Garcia

Vote For Ted

Silva

Divining Rod

Tim Rockford

God Speed

Mario (snl)

Game Over

34 notes · View notes

josephquinnswhore · 9 months

Text

THIRTEEN DAYS : sneak peak introduction.

Pairing: A Dave York Series x female reader.

Summary: everyday, you live a life of normalcy; children, a loving fiancé, and an incredible home. Nothing ever exciting happened; until you’re dragged into Dave’s personal business. You’re being held for ransom until Dave is held accountable for his actions; he has thirteen days to save you.

WARNING: this series will contain possibly triggering scenes and content. Please do not read if you are sensitive to violence, murder, possible scenes/mentions of SA. 18+ only. MDNI.

⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖

Dave’s phone rings.

He’s in his car, driving along the interstate, coming back from a job. He and his colleges decided to drive in different cars, the less attention they got the better—four burly men wearing all black in a car full of weapons and suspicious items; tape, disposable gloves, military coding on their phones. They’d be fucked if they were ever found out.

They’d been doing this for years and knew better than to be so stupid. The last thing he needed was someone fucking ringing him. Pinging his location close to the crime.

The adrenaline was still rushing through his veins, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel, letting out a growl of frustration, letting the second call ring out; this time he saw it was his mother, and she’d left a voicemail.

“Dave pick up the damn phone. Your daughters mother hasn’t picked the girls up or contacted, and they’ve been waiting an hour. Call me back.” The annoyance in her voice is evident, frustration wearing thin. She snaps the last sentence and hangs up the phone.

His mother had never liked you; for some reason your absence only fuelled the distain she held for you.

Dave nearly rear ends a pick-up truck, the instinctive foot presses down hard on the break, barely preventing a collision.

The seatbelt tightens around his collarbone, car lurching as it comes to an abrupt stop. Barely two inches between the front bumper of his suv, and the towball of the pickup.

The light turns green and he puts his foot to the floor, in a panic, he begins racing to your shared home.

You were meant to pickup the girls, you’d never done anything like this; you wouldn’t. Dave knew deep in his aching bones that something was wrong.

He swerves through traffic manically, accelerating through yellow lights and taking corners above the suggested speed. He frantically fumbles with his phone, trying to dial your contact, when the phone slips through his fingers and onto the floor well at his feet.

He lets out a primal grunt; fingertips searching the rubber mat for his phone and he grasps it after a few seconds of searching.

Your phone rings, and he hears your voice. Your sweet tender, velvety voice on your Voicemail. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer, please leave a message and contact number and I’ll get back to you.”

He dials it again.

Voicemail. He tries once more and this time is left with a message that makes his blood pressure rise, anxiety bubbling inside of him.

“This phone has been disconnected.”

He tears the black beanie off his head, hands slamming against the steering wheel in a fury. A few moments pass and he lets himself feel it; fear. The feeling overwhelms him; surrounds him and expresses itself so openly that his lungs, for a few moments, forget to inhale the oxygen they desperately need.

“Where the fuck are you baby?” He whispers as he lets out a gasp to himself, his breath fogging up the inside of his windscreen. At this point he’s unsure if it’s the fog or his watering eyes that makes his vision unclear, probably a mix of both.

All of that nonsense was put into the back of his head as his thick fingers curl back around the steering wheel, a darkening gaze finding its place into his darkening brown eyes. Finding you was the only thing that mattered. You.

⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖

Tag list; if you wanna be added just comment <3

@cool-iguana

#dave york #pedro pascal #Dave York fic #Dave York x reader #Dave York x female reader #Dave York x series #Dave York x you #Dave York angst #Dave York dark series #Dave York husband material #josephquinnswhore #josephquinnswhorefics

77 notes · View notes

daddy-dins-girl · 8 months

Text

Pedro Boys - Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic

This was such a tough one to do... Thanks to everyone who shared their input and helped me put this one together :). I hope I did everyone justice!

Lawful Good - Marcus Moreno. Always acts with compassion, honour and a sense of duty. Marcus will always do what's right. He is courageous and moral and respects law and order. A "superhero" through and through.

Lawful Neutral - Din Djarin, Frankie Morales. Din will follow his creed; the creed of the Mandalore, always ("This is the way"). He has a strong moral compass and upholds order. His creed and his clan come before anything else. Frankie also follows a code; the one that's patched on his jacket shoulder in the form of an American flag. He may not always agree with the orders he's tasked to carry out and for that he'll carry a lifetime of grief and trauma on his broad shoulders.

Lawful Evil - Jack Daniels. Jack uses the "black & white" of the law to further his own agenda. Blinded by vengeance, he has a goal to achieve and he plans on seeing it through, regardless if it means harm will come to others who may or may not deserve it.

Neutral Good - Javier Peña. A man ultimately out to do good in the world, Javier upholds strong moral values and pursues justice, however he isn't afraid to act outside the law (which happens to be his job) if it's what he believes to be for the greater good. Javier will disobey a direct order if he believes the end justifies the means. He doesn't feel as bound by the red tape as the bureaucrats upstairs and it's always been his belief that it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Neutral - Joel Miller. A true neutral, Joel Miller marches by the beat of his own moral drum. He'll act for himself, indifferent to what is "good" or "bad", based solely on his own needs or feelings at the time, or if his survival depends on it. He won't kill for no reason, but he would certainly kill if he believes someone means harm to himself or his loved ones. By the way, "the trolley problem?" Don't worry, Joel solved it :P

Neutral Evil - Maxwell Lord, Dave York. They have little to no reservations about bringing harm to others if it gets them what they want, but they also won't go out of their way to do something hurtful or evil if it brings them no benefit. Dave is paid to do a job. It's a name on a piece of paper in his pocket, nothing more. Loyalty or morality plays no part in it and Dave is happy to dust off his hands after it's done and go home and tuck his children into bed (and he sleeps just fine at night, thank you for asking). Maxwell has grand aspirations and plans to see them through, regardless of who gets hurt in the process. He'll "grant your wish" whether its for the greater good or the greater bad, as long as it benefits his own agenda.

Chaotic Good - Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez. They uphold principles of justice and freedom but are unconcerned about how it is achieved (inside or outside of the law). Oberyn Martell believes in vengeance in the name of justice. He is bound by honour, love and duty to kill those who brought harm to his family and he will do it with a smile on his face. Javi Gutierrez' actions are inherently good and he believes in doing the right thing, although he will turn a blind eye to his criminal empire family and reap the benefits of their actions because he knows no other way.

Chaotic Neutral - Pero Tovar, Ezra. These individuals follow their own whims and will act in whichever way benefits them the most at any point in time. They are beholden to no one. A mercenary, Tovar can be paid to operate on either side. It makes little difference to him, so long as the price is right. However he also has no qualms about switching alliances, should it ultimately benefit him better, or just because he feels like it. Ezra is first and foremost a survivalist. He will always act in his own self interest with no intentions or bias toward doing evil or good. He's quite capable of switching sides if it is what is best for him (and the teenager he accidentally adopted along the way) either in the moment or for the long run.

Chaotic Evil - Max Phillips. This man is evil simply because he can be, and because it's fun. He lives for himself and his own desires with no respect to rules, authority or other peoples lives. He thrives on destruction and chaos (and has a blast doing it, thank you very much).

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

94 notes · View notes

oogaboogasphincter · 7 months

Text

black jaguar | dave york x f!reader

dave returns home from a job and can’t wait to indulge in you.

word count/warnings: 1.1k+ words // EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MDNI!: reader and dave are married, reader has no physical description other than she has stretch marks, slight dub-con due to consensual somnophilia, primal kink like woah, masturbation (m and f), marking/love bites, mild blood mentions, dave is dark!coded and like slightly possessed in this bc it’s spooky season babyyy hehe 😈

a/n: i’m so excited to be participating in kinktober this year! i’m not following a specified prompt list or anything, but i have four pieces planned that i’ll release throughout the month (and possibly a series that i’ve been working on, but it might need more time to develop tbh) i hope you enjoy! <3

Dave comes into your bedroom and shuts the door behind him impossibly quiet, leaving you undisturbed in your peaceful slumber. The bottoms of his boots stick to the carpet, the blood of his slain enemy cloying with the fibers, and root him to the spot. The smart decision would’ve been to take them off downstairs and not trail evidence throughout the house, but right now, his rationality is plagued by a fog of desire; a ravenous compulsion clawing its way from his stomach and tearing pangs of hunger, thirst up his throat, leftover adrenaline from his job webbing the whites of his eyes with red. From the foot of your bed, he greedily drinks in the image of his perfect wife and plots his feast.

Your cheek is turned on the pillow, the eerie moonbeams that stream in through the window are reborn into holy light as they touch your face. On your stomach, one leg is hiked up, exposing your glistening core. A vibrator lays dormant just out of reach of your hand and there’s a wet spot on the sheets betwixt your thighs.

This is the only time that Dave allowed you to touch yourself, when he was away on a job. You would fret so much over him, wondering and worrying which dark corner of the world he found himself in, what morally questionable people he came into contact with, what dangerous conditions he had thrown himself into this time… all in the name of making sure he could take care of you. There was no other option but to fuck your self stupid in order to fall asleep every night. Of course, it was nothing like his brand of ecstasy, but it had to be enough to tide you over until he returned.

His gloves, ripped from his impatience to get them off, follow his bloodied jacket to the floor. He prowls forward with footsteps that hold the weight of the world but don’t make a sound. He sits next to you on your side of the bed, leaning in so close he can smell your arousal, surrendering his control to your allure like the tides to the moon. He studies your body, assessing exactly where he’d like to lay claim tonight. His lips, chapped from the bitter chill outside, press against your naked lower back in a litany of kisses, prepping your skin for his impending release.

Unable to stave off the craving any longer, he takes his cock out of his slacks and begins dragging his fingers along his length, stroking himself to hardness until the veins that run perpendicular to his girth are rigid with depravity. Resting on his forearm, he drops his nose down to the sheets and nestles the pool of slick you left in your wake, a groan shaking up his back and rumbling through his teeth. He drags his tongue along the wet spot, grunting with a newfound softness at your taste. Your essence is so sweet, so honest; deep down in his heart, he feels unworthy of such salvation, but he keeps gorging on you in the hopes that some of your purity might lodge itself in his heart.

His eyes rove over the slopes of your body, seamlessly riding along your every curve with awe. He reaches his fingers out to touch you for the first time in weeks and it’s like he’s been struck with a lightning bolt. Heart rate picks up, sweat breaks out on his forehead, his hips hump the air in a pathetic jolt. He traces the stretch marks that encircle your hips, dipping into the deeper ones like a ravine and following their length with reverence, swept away by their current.

His touch falls over your ass, depositing him at the precious apex of your thighs. With surgical precision, keeping you suspended in the dream realm, he finds his way into your folds and gathers some of your fresh wetness. It’s like you could sense that he’s there, priming your body for him subconsciously. Bringing it to his mouth and engulfing it, he doesn’t allow himself to drink directly from you because he’s entertained enough sins tonight. Tainting your sweetness with his stroke of malevolence would be irredeemable.

But Dave is far from a saint. His rough fingertips slink to your clit and circle it, eliciting some soft whimpers from your parted lips. His grip on his cock tightens at your sounds, gliding from base to tip at a frenzied speed. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to burst so soon, because the sight of your angelic form only propels him toward his peak. With his other senses heightened, your arousal feels even more luscious against his fingers; your sleepy, pitiful moans worm into his mind and make a deep magenta pound behind his eyelids. The air in his lungs is knocked out of him, a choked-out gasp squeezing out of his chest.

Some primal urge maws its way from inside his bones and unleashes itself in his body, flooding him with a raw mixture of possessiveness and love. Hunched over your back, he lurches forward and takes the flesh of where your neck and shoulder meet between his teeth as he comes hard, growling lowly in your ear. You awaken with a gasp, but not one of distaste; your voice quickly melts into a passionate moan as you recognize the distinct timbre that underlines Dave’s groaning. If it were anyone else but Dave, his sounds would be dramatic, silly even. But you know he’s not putting on any kind of show, that those animalistic sounds reverberate from his chest organically, and it puts a satisfied grin on your face.

The sticky drops of his release land on your lower back, their paths curving with the slope of your body. Once he’s emptied himself completely, Dave puts a hand in between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned beneath him for his viewing pleasure. He stares at your marked skin, from the translucent glimmer of sweat and spend on your back to the bite on your neck that is already blooming purple with blood. He collapses and molds himself to you, pressing dainty kisses to your neck as his instinct to nurture begins stemming back into his psyche. His fingers ghost against your wound almost apologetically. Almost.

He would feel a little more remorseful if it weren’t for the adoring glow in your eyes when you finally meet his gaze. God, he’d been aching to see you. He practically has a portfolio of you in his mind, countless memories that he can replay like film whenever he chooses, but nothing will ever come close to simply being in your presence. For the first time since he left you, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Your mirror it, as his true counterpart.

“Welcome home.”

main masterlist ♡ join my taglist!

💘taglist (if you’re crossed out it means i couldn’t tag you): @pascalpanic @melody13522 @tenderwhat @maievdenoir @pedrostories @uncassettodiricordi @harriedandharassed

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x afab!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal characters #kinktober 2023 #love bites

58 notes · View notes

popcornforone · 4 months

Text

A Good Judge of Character

A Young Dave York Fan Fic

Well well well,

This wasn’t on The cards at all yesterday morning when I woke up. & I promised myself no more stupid deadlines for 2024 for fic writing, to do it at my own pace. But hey it’s stil 2023. Basically these two new photos of younger Pedro dropped & all me & the girls could think of was young Dave… so here I am writing a Young assassin Dave York for you all. What a way to end 2023 on a Dave York Saturday.

Synopsis:- as assistant to the newest assassin you need to write a character reference for him for a job, but the job is rather spicy & so might be Dave attitude to you.

Word count:- 2700

Warnings:- DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Fingering, sucking, teasing, lack of consent, blackmail, sexual harassment, mentions of brothals & anal & toys, swearing. Sexual exploitation, talk of sexual stuff, sex at work, pleasure, bribery, anger, manipulation DAVE YORK AS ALWAYS COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING because he’s a darn arrogant bastard & here he really is.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, it’s always appreciated, all feedback back is welcome. I hope you enjoys. Also as I’m here thanks for all the reading in 2023, bring on 2024.

It drops on your desk. He walks past with arrogance, not even looking at you as he rambled.

“I need a character reference for the next job, no more than 750 words, details are on the system for the job, I’ll pick it up after lunch.” He doesn’t even acknowledge you in those few words & saunter, as he slides out the office. The new arrogant young assassin thinks he owns the world.

“Okay” you mumble “it’s not like I wanted to have lunch” you scoff under your breath. He wouldn’t have paid attention anyhow & he’s long gone out if the room, but your pretty sure he’s got a microphone somewhere on your desk to record you, to get any evidence he might need on you one day. You quote in your head his infamous words, everyone’s a target before they become an unfortunate.

You open up word & find your basic background information for him & then sigh as you pick up the file to find the job code.

“Okay Mr York, which adventures do you want to go on today… woooooo” you were lazily scanning the brief detail over, when the word anal penetration appears. You blush bright red. You read the next few lines & more words appear along a similar genre, including glass dildos & flogging. You quickly turn it over & do a sharp in take of breath. Your fine with reading about killing peoples but this is a different level. You pop your head up from behind your desk, to make sure no one is paying attention to you, that no one’s going to come & walk behind you while you are typing & looking at inappropriate things. You take a deep breath & read his proposed assignment properly that he’s applied for.

He wants to go to a brothel, ran my the Dresden’s. One of the ladies who services people who is well know for flogging gentlemen & likes to make them suck on glass dildos (now that you’ve read it properly) while they fuck her, knows where the main owner traffic’s his new girls from. Girls is underlined because unfortunately they are just that, little girls.

It is good for all new up & coming agents to go undercover, they are all also expected to seduce both sexes, so clearly Mr York wanted to try & be under cover & have sex with another woman at the same time. You’re very impressed.

“Clever man” you state, no longer blushing & start writing for him so it can impress his boss, so he gets this job. You’ve seen enough romance films & know what Mr York is like to know how to write this so it sounds like him. He just needs to read your proposal, before he then emails his application to the big boss, for him to be the best person to get this information. Your fingers type aways, making your boss sound like a sex god. Talking about how he’s had many women & men, how he always practices safe sex, how he likes to strum a clit like a base guitar. How he can make a man do anything with the right kind of persuasion. As you write it you blush at what you are putting. You have no idea if Mr York is any of these things, but you all know in this building that he will one day end up being the top assassin here. His kill record & his combat & the way he tortures people without them realising is exemplary. He’s going places & his enemies are going to be sleeping with the fishes. He will become the ultimate ghost one day.

25mins later, you send a copy to his computer & you put your out of office on. You know Mr York will scoff when he comes back from his lunch soon & will see you not sat at your desk. He will think you are slacking, but you deserve your lunch & some time to yourself to get over about what you’ve just written about your boss.

When you arrive back at your desk after having to then go & discuss a new fire safety protocol or all assistants & less ‘trained’ staff, you see a post it note stuck on your screen. “My office 3pm DY” Mr York wants to talk to you & it looks like it was slammed on your screen in anger. You gulp & try to calm down. Did your covering letter go too far, or not far enough? Did Mr York just in his arrogant way not proof it & send it to the boss as it was? You don’t actually have much time to prepare it’s already 2:50. You deal with a few more emails, before grabbing your iPad & making the 8 steps to the office door. 3 knocks he always likes & you pop to your head around the door. The door reads Mr Dave York.

“Come” he says firmly. For a man who’s only been an assassin for 10 months, you’d think he’d been doing it for years. He very quickly got sent out on back up for high profile missions & his numbers grew quickly. There are people on this floor with offices that have been here 7 years that don’t have a record or work ethic like this man. He’s filled with confidence & control.

You slowly step into the room.

“Mr York you wanted to see me” you close the door behind you & he briefly looks up.

“Lock it” it’s a firm delivery. You do as he says & you walk to sit on the other chair at your side of his desk. Daves gone for a more casual look today. This morning there was team building for climbing in the forest to see who could get the best sniper advantage. He knew he didn’t have any meetings afterwards, so smart jeans, a purple jumper & a plaid jacket over the top of his chair shows he’s still important, but more relaxed. Usually it’s a sharp suit & tie. Trousers that don’t hide anything, not that his jeans aren’t tight. You always have a quick glance. He’s going to age like a fine wine this handsome man, & his girlfriend who he’s just asked to move in, will get to see him blossom.

“What can I do for you Mr…” your voice trials off as the characterisation of Dave you wrote earlier is pushed across the desk to you.

“Care to explain” he’s finally lifted his head & is looking at you with those beautiful but devilish eyes. This is a test you feel.

“You wanted 750 words as to how you could do this job, so I fluffed it up.” You say as you turn red. “If you wanted something else, maybe a bit more detail would have helped me to write you better”

“Hmmm” Dave says, his hands clasp together. “So you made me out to be a ladies man, & a man’s Man. Ready & willing to do whatever to protect my country including sleep with multiple whores? Correct?” He hasn’t taken his eyes off you at all. They are burrowing deep into your soul. Your white silk knickers are dampening as your arousal grows. His voice is deep & it’s making you feel & want the unspeakable.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Oooh I did, but I didn’t realise you’d go into such detail” he says & snaps the piece of paper back. “Come round here look at the screen” you slowly stand up & straighten your skirk & go around to his side of the desk. He points & highlights a line. “My fingers are thick enough that she wouldn’t notice the difference.” He nods in slight approval “now are you saying there that I have fat fingers or a not so girthy penis?” You blush unsure what to say.

“Mr York I never meant to…”

“Would you like to find out…” you turn red & you have a face like thunder.

“I’m sorry what”

“Would you like to know if my fingers are as fat as my cock?” He says & he licks his lips. “On the desk” you haven’t moved. You’re in shock. “You’re my assistant, you do as I say, on the desk…now” you hop on the desk but keep your legs crossed. He sounds loud & angry. His large hands then take your small dainty ones & he uses them to undo his fly. “One hand palming my cock the other on my two fingers” he says.

“& what if I say this is sexual harassment?” You state. He knows you have a point.

“Do you really think they’d fire me? Their star boy? Sweetheart, remember what I always tell you, everyone’s a target, before they become an unfortunate” he winks, suggesting that he would deal with you if you even thought about telling anyone this. This is black mail & controlling & sexual advantage from him. But then you see that lip curl, you shouldn’t be putty in his hands, you’re stronger than this but you don’t care. You want to see what they both feel like. You start to palm his boxers & rub his fingers as Dave hisses & moans at your touch.”ooh your partner at home is very lucky in deed.” Then he looks you dead in the eye & says boldly. “Consent?” You think for a few seconds.

“Agreed I consent” you just about get the word out of your mouth before his tongue is down your throat. A hungry feverish kiss which has your body twitching. No man has ever kissed you quite like this & it drives you crazy. Your need for intimacy grows. You don’t realise it but in pulling Dave closer to feel his body, you’ve let go of his cock & only have hold of his fingers.

“Fingers it is then” he moans & he lets go & both his hands move up your thighs.

“Hmmm” you whine back confused not realising you’d made a choice.

“Oooh don’t play dumb girl” his hand slip in your knickers waist band & pull them down towards your ankles. Your legs, even if you didn’t want them to part, & Dave can see how much you’ve been enjoying this. “I’m a good judge of character.” He licks the fingers you were stroking. “& trust me you will not regret this.”

Dave rolls your skirt up & his hand goes between your thighs. His thumb on your clit. Doing what you’d thought about. Strumming you, getting you all pent up. The noise you then make is a whimper as his damp fingers are covered in your arousal. You grip the desk behind you, you now wish you hadn’t let go of his penis as Dave hoovers over you.

“I’m gonna make you cum baby, whether you want to or not.” In slides the first fingers & he grabs your thigh, if he grabbed harder there would be a red mark there in the morning. You gasp & feel them rub inside you. Slow for the first 3 motions but the pace quickly increasing.

“Dave…” you moan, clamping around him.

“Who told you, you could say my actual name?” He grips your thigh harder. “Pleasure doesn’t mean I’m not Mr York, when I’m using you, I’m more Mr York than I ever am.”

“S… so…sorry” & then you grip the desk harder & move closer to Dave, the third finger is inside you now. It’s a rush. He couldn’t pick up any more friction if he tried. Your body convulses.

“You gonna be a good girl? You’re going to meet my every need? Are you going to assist me in everything from writing up emails to letting me fuck you in the arse? God if your arse is half as tight as your cunt, we’re going to have fun” he is saying this menacingly & you are panting, grinding around his fingers & thumb. Your pleasure is ready to explode. His hand leaves your thigh & grips round your chin. “Answer me” your so pent up & it all just comes out in a moment of passion.

“Yes oh fuck yes yes yes”

“Cum for me baby”

“Fuckkkkk” you drench his hand. Any paperwork you might have been sat in would also be ruined. Those large fat fingers of Daves worked their magic in a matter of minutes. He watches in wonder as your body responds & he smile devilishly that he’s been able to do this.

“You liked that beautiful” he whispers in your ear. You nod & go mmmmm that’s all you can do right now. You’re hoping you get his penis next. “You did? That’s good to know” he slowly lifts his sodden fingers to your mouth & slips them in. “Tell me do you want more” your mouths full as you suck away, he’s keeping your fingers in there. Your eyes are wide & you nod. “Well that’s to bad” he lets go of your hand & zips up his fly, & you splutter saliva all over you as you gag at that.

“I’m sorry?” You look confused.

“Did you really think I was going to go under cover at a brothel?” Dave asks. Your eyes go crazy & then shoot him a look.

“What” you grab your iPad & scroll for the item details on there.

“Oh that mission is real, for about 3 years ago, for someone else, but I needed to prove I could get someone to do what they wanted & give me what I needed by the end of the week, so why not the assistant.” Your eyes are in shock.

“This was all a trick”

“Yes but no but yes & let’s be honest, you didn’t exactly say no did you” he’s pacing in front of you showing you home his control & power over you. You go to challenge him”in fact…” he says before you say a word”…I have you consenting” he hold up his phone which is recording. “Don’t worry though sweetheart” he taps your thigh. “This will stay between us, & let’s be honest everyone in this office has had sex with someone at some stage, you just got to have the in thing.” He winks & heads for the door, to leave. “I’ll let you get cleaned up & sorted before you get back to work. I have a genuine character reference for you to do before 6pm” the door closes on you.

Your now sat alone dripping onto Daves desk with your knickers around your ankles. He’s played you. He got what he wanted. He wanted a seduction & someone who’s do whatever to help him, you proved that & he tricked you into consenting. You’ve been violated & tricked into this & you feel vulnerable. You can’t complain, he made his point about what would happen to you, even if you went to the police you’d end up dead. Your helpless & lost. You shimmy your knickers back on & compose yourself & head out of Daves office & back to your desk.

The next morning when you arrive at work, there’s a bunch of flowers on your desk & a note. “Sorry not my best work yesterday, hopefully these & a much more consensual meeting at the Burlington hotel tonight will help me to apologies DY” you slightly smile as he walks past.

“Ooh secret admirer?” He asks knowing full well they are from him. “Whatever they did to you, they must be very sorry, I’ve never seen that many flowers before” he says with a coy wink. You softly smile back to him & write on a post it note to say yes I consent on it. He smiles & the devils look returns to those big puppy dog eyes.

“What can I say, I’ve got him wrapped round my fingers, it’s almost like I am a good judge of character” you say as you bite the end of your pen & turn to face your screen. Dave says nothing else as he goes in his office, but soon your chat box to him opens up & it just says form him. “That’s my good girl”.

25 notes · View notes