#dave york fanfic

[creedslove]

Mari!!! I love your writing!!!

Do you think you could write a little jealous Dave York, maybe he has gotten with reader who is a little younger and he's a bit insecure, so he follows her or sees a guy flirting with her and he gets super jealous or protective. But in the end she's like I only want you and she let's him cum in her. 🫣

Sorry I just love Dave York I can't help it ❤️

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: bestie, who doesn't love Dave? He's literally precious, I love him with all my heart, and so do all of us!!! 💞❤️

• okay, let's just establish something here: Dave is a jealous type, okay? No arguments about it, he can be a prince and sexy and treat you like a queen, but he is NOT gonna like to see any guy anywhere around you, he's gonna be pissed off and territorial

• you are definitely the best thing he has in life, he will never risk you having an interest in anyone else but him, he just gets angry and scared to even consider that, because it would break his heart and he would feel so betrayed

• luckily, just as he's obsessed with you, you're also obsessed with him, and you both are mature enough not to play stupid games or mess around with each other's feelings: you both love and respect each other and you don't flirt with other people for fun or whatever reason

• still, other people might try their chance, since you two are a very attractive couple: women all have their eyes on Dave and guys can't help but keep their eyes on you at times, and that's when our hitman gets bothered

• Dave isn't clueless, he knows he's a successful, charming and handsome man with a very attractive position at work but he's also aware you are younger than him, being his second marriage and already burnt by his ex wife, it's made him suspicious, because sometimes it's hard for him to see that good things can happen to him and you are one of them

• overall, underneath all of his hitman threatening persona, lies a rather insecure man who thinks you are way out of his league and that at any minute you're gonna snap from it and finally find someone you should really be with instead of him

• so when he has a break over the week, he decides it would be a great idea to call you up and meet you for lunch, just something quick: going to your favorite bakery for some sandwiches and a slice of cake; it was the kind of date you two didn't plan in advance but you loved it nonetheless, as it was so simple and romantic

• you felt so excited to meet your handsome Dave, you decided to look really nice for him, arriving a little before he did as he was still leaving the office, you picked a nice table and took a look at the menu, checking up your options when you felt glares at you

• you didn't know that man, he looked alright you guessed, he wasn't ugly, but he wasn't Dave's level of handsome either. He was wearing formal clothes which showed it was also his lunch break and once he captured your attention, he smirked and greeted you

• you politely greeted him back, wanting the interaction to end once for all, you weren't interested in him, simple as that, but the guy figured that if he insisted, things would be successful somehow, so he approached your table at the same time Dave got off the car and saw it from outside that unknown man making small talk

• Dave's body heated up at the same time he felt himself going cold and a bitter taste of jealousy flooded his mouth: he hated seeing you talking to him. He didn't know who that guy was but he definitely didn't want him around you, when you two were supposed to be having your lunch date, he didn't want to see you talking to a man who was visibly younger and fitter than Dave, whereas your hitman was going a little a gray and his belly was rounding up a little

• he feels his heart sinking at the same time he approaches the table, he wants to get there immediately and break apart whatever contact is going on, but hearing your voice brings Dave back to reality:

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for my boyfriend, he's just arrived"

• you told the guy and got up, smiling and walking towards Dave, kissing his lips and hugging him. Your hitman simply wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your lips, giving the guy a rough stare

"is there anything wrong in here?"

• the man just shook his head and excused himself, apologizing and trying to hide how nervous he got once he "accidentally" spotted Dave's gun in his suit jacket. You didn't see when he flashed it at your admirer but you couldn't care less, you were just glad to see your handsome hitman there ❤️

____

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

[absurdthirst]

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

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄.

DAY TWO OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

pairing: childhood best friend!dave york x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni

summary: The only good thing about coming back home with your fiance is getting to see Dave York again, your best friend since you were four.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: angst, abusive fiance, verbally abusive family, hurt/comfort, neighbor au, childhood friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), dacryphilia, blood, you and dave kill your fiance, then crawl to him because why not, soft gun kink, possessive!dave

a/n: this is not edited at all but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway

The only good thing about coming back home is getting to see Dave York.

His family moved in when you were four, and you've been close friends ever since. Both of you moved away at around the same time; he became a CIA operative and got married, while you were still trying to figure yourself out. Your family wasn't supportive of this "self-discovery" stage in your life, which didn't really surprise you. They had never been supportive, always reminding you of your failures.

Then you met Chris, got engaged, and for the first time, your family was happy. Shortly after, you heard about Dave's parents passing away, followed swiftly by the CIA terminating his program. His divorce had been finalized earlier this year. You called him, letting him know that if he needed anything, he should reach out. He assured you he'd be okay, finding other work and moving back into his parents' home.

Ever since you heard he was back, you've been excited.

But now that you’re here, standing at his door, you feel like you’re four again. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings tickling you from the inside out. How long has it been since you’d last seen him? It’s been too long, for sure. 

Dave is one of those friends that you could just continue from where you left off no matter how long time had passed. It’s just like pressing the pause button on a remote. It doesn’t require effort to feel close to him again, and you’re glad of it. Dave had been your rock during your teenage years, when you’d been adamant about crying yourself to sleep, he would throw pebbles at your window. It would always surprise you how he’s just known you needed him. It didn’t take you much convincing to leave your room and the two of you would venture on into the darkness until morning. Your parents non the wiser.

Those nights were your favorite. 

Heat licks at your spine, the tips of your ears burning when your mind drifts to a night that smelled of the salty sea. If you think about it hard enough you can still feel the sand caressing your back while Dave pushed deep inside you, his mouth feasting on your neck as the waves tickled your feet. 

God, you’d give anything to return to that night. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you finally knock on the door. The sound echoes and soon, you hear steps coming closer and closer, every thud making your heart skip a beat. 

With the door opening, you feel a gentle rush of cool air caressing your face, a scent that smells so purely of Dave following through. Without noticing you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the familiar smell. Your eyes flutter shut. In hindsight, thinking about the night you lost your virginity probably wasn’t smart. You wonder if it would still feel as good. 

When you open your eyes, he’s staring at you with an amused smile, eyes twinkling like he knows the precise memory you’re thinking about. 

“Dave!” you exclaim and throw your arms around his broad neck. He's bigger now, taller, and notably more muscular. He hugs your tight and lifts you slightly off the ground, your toes brushing against the patio, biceps flexing against your frame. 

He squeezes you one last time before loosening his grip, your body slides against his, your tight nipples brushing against the width of his chest. A gasp parts your lips, a gentle tremor to your legs. You purposefully brush your nose into the crook of his neck and take a deep breath in. “God, I missed you,” you murmur. 

“I’ve missed you too,” his hands remain on your waist, eyes briefly scanning to see if there’s anyone with you. When he sees there’s no one, he raises a sole brow. “I thought your fiance came with you?” 

Despite yourself, your frown is instant, your stomach clenching painfully, “He did,” you answer. “He’s with mom and dad, getting pampered.” 

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue. “Sounds fun. So. . . they like him?” 

“Surprisingly yes,” you smile. “I don’t think I could’ve brought him here otherwise.” 

He hums and pulls himself back, you want to follow his touch but stay rooted in place. 

“I’m a bit worried if your folks like him so much,” he scratches his chin. “Do you like him?” 

The question gets under your skin, festering inside of you like a nasty wound. You look away. “He’s okay,” you say dismissively and quickly force a smile. “ “Do you want to join us for dinner?” 

Dave’s question had bothered you more than you thought. 

You’ve never had anyone burn for you, never had anyone willing to move heaven and earth for you, never had anyone who’d do anything to see you smile. You never experienced the love you’ve read about in books, and after a while, you just stopped looking for it. Women like you don’t receive that kind of love; women like you don’t get the hero or a prince.

After you’ve found Chris, you thought that’d be as good as it’ll get. 

Honestly, you were quite surprised when he proposed, your relationship was mediocre at best. You blamed yourself for thinking like that. You’d always been a dreamer. Someone who had their head in the clouds. And since your parents loved him so much, you were inclined to say yes. Not because your parents controlled your every move or something like that, it was just nice for them to finally spare a compliment, even though the said compliment was depending on you finding someone that would typically not spare a glance at someone like you—according to them. 

You head for the kitchen, helping your mother set the table. She says nothing as she shoves four plates into your waiting arms. You drag your feet to the dining room. 

It shouldn’t have surprised you that the things you disliked about Chris only heightened after the engagement. Sarcastic remarks and condescending tones turned into full dismissal of your opinions and talents. Venomous comments that were made behind closed doors became a part of his normal interaction with you among friends and family. No one seemed to care. Only a couple of friends had come to warn you, or offer help, but you felt ashamed, embarrassed to reach out to people who didn’t know how mess of a person you were—how broken. They didn’t know that to a degree, you might’ve deserved the insults. 

Unlike Dave, talking to Chris wasn’t easy. It was a constant mental exercise and took the fun in being with someone. You had to be sharp always, if not, he’d happily remind you how worthless you are in the guise of a joke. 

Letting out a sigh, you place the last plate down on the table. Chris comes up from behind you, sneaking his arms underneath your own and tugging you to his chest. 

“What are you sulking about?” he asks, the lips that touch your skin making you flinch. “

“You know it’s hard for me coming back here,” you answer. “I kinda wished you’d hang around instead of hanging out with my dad.” 

Much to your relief, Chris pulls away, “I like your dad,” he says. “Besides they’ve been nothing but kind to me so I don’t get why you want me to treat them like a beast I need to defeat.” 

Your eyes drop to his hands. He’s flexed his fingers outwards and balled them into fists. The rest of him is calm, relaxed, every part of him except for his hands. Your body goes rigid. You don’t know what to say to him. You’ve explained your childhood a million times; a mother who reminded you of every physical flaw, a father who just wasn’t around, only showing up during important accomplishments. You understand why Chris likes them so much, the three of them are basically the same. 

“I’m not telling you to fight with them,” you murmur. “Just wanted some support because they’re not kind to me.” 

“God, what do you expect?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “They have a daughter who’s still trying to ‘figure things out’. Be grateful you’re not my daughter, I'd be furious.” 

“It’s not like I’m taking their money,” your gaze snaps to him, piercing. “Nor yours, for that matter. So I can do whatever I want.” 

He whistles, lips curling into a nasty grin, “Someone’s feeling courageous. I thought you needed my support? Seems like you’re able to defend yourself just fine.” 

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your knees shaking with frustration. It’s always the same—that smug look he gets whenever you decide to stand up for yourself. 

Your lips pressed tight, you turn your head away. He’s right to a degree though. You’re feeling surprisingly brave for someone who’s been silent for months— as if by the night you won’t be climbing into his bed. You have a sense of why that is. Dave always made you want to believe in yourself, unlike the ones closest to you, he made you think you were worth the trouble even though you know you probably aren’t. 

The silence growing between you, Chris closes the distance with a short amount of steps, he hooks two fingers under your chin, and forces your gaze back to him, “No no, don’t go silent now. I like it.” 

The tension in the air suffocates you. It tastes like poison on your tongue. Chris draws mockingly soft circles over your skin, taunting you. You don’t feel small, not exactly, you just feel powerless, as if he’s ten feet tall. Your teeth bites into the smooth surface of your inner cheek. He leans closer and his breath hits your face. He’s going to kiss you, you’ve enjoyed plenty of those kisses in the past but right now you’re the furthest away from ever wanting him to kiss you. 

A loud knock intervenes perfectly. 

But Chris doesn’t pull away. 

“That’s right, we were expecting company weren’t we?” he rolls his tongue. “Who was it again? Your childhood friend?” 

“Dave,” you breathe out, relief swarming you like soft feathers. Chris is about to pull away so you can go answer the door but before he gets the chance the door opens with a soft click. 

Both of you turn towards the sound. Dave stands at the threshold holding a bottle of wine, eyes flitting between your and Chris. 

“Hey, there,” Chris chirps, all of his fault behavior disappearing into the air. “You must be Dave, nice to meet you!” he extends a hand. Dave, is eyes still fixed on you, accepts your fiance’s hand and squeezes it. Tight. 

“Nice to meet you. Chris, was it?” 

“Right on,” Chris walks around him and shuts the door. “Let’s head to the dining room, we’re about to eat. Isn’t that right?” 

It takes you a moment to realize the question is directed at you. 

“Right,” you murmur, your eyes dropping away from Dave’s. “I’ll go check with mom. Be back in a sec.” 

Just as you’re about to leave, Dave’s voice stops you, “Need any help?” the tension that dissolved settles back over your shoulders. You turn slightly, enough to see him. A brief shadow crosses his face, making home in his eyes—you blink. You find yourself swallowing hard as his gaze causes your throat to contract.

“I’m good thanks. Make yourself comfortable.” 

You haven't cried in months. Not when Chris taunted you, not when your mother made unnecessary comments about how you should be. None of it fazed you anymore. Not the same way it did when you were a kid.

So why are your eyes suddenly teared up now, struggling to hold back?

“Mom, stop it.” 

All eyes turn to you; Chris’s, your father’s and Dave’s. You swallow around the knot lodged in your throat. You mother narrows her eyes, lips a tight line. 

“Stop what?” she asks, voice strained. “I just said I can help you threading those stuborn hairs above your lip.” 

Embarrassment settling at the base of your spine, you cover your mouth with your hand, absolutely mortified. You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and instead attempt to calm your racing heart. You can’t tell if you’re overreacting or not. Your mom rolls her eyes, waving a hand, she dismisses your emotions entirely. A tremor overhwhelmes you, starting from your legs and going all the way up to your shoulders. Dave’s sitting right next to you, his expression indifferent, calculating. He’s the last person you want to look at right now, finally you two meet up again after years only for him to see that nothing’s changed. 

“You and Dave have been friends since four, I doubt he cares if I mention it. It’s for your benefit,” she shrugs and turns to Chris, placing a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be sure she’s proper by the time of the wedding. She’s always been horrible at stuff like this, I never understood why.” 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. 

Your ears are ringing. 

Tears well in your eyes once more, the need to throw up overhwhelming you. 

“I’m not a prized calf, mom. I don’t need your help.” 

Her eyes turn back to you, momentraily dropping to your plate before looking back up again. “Have you decided on a dress?” 

Your brain short circuits for a moment. You want to throw your fork at her as always your dad is silent, and Chris is no help whatsoever. Sometimes you feel as if he enjoys this visits. Enjoys making you see that he’s not all that bad—or he justs enjoys using it as an excuse to show that if everyone in your life behaves like this, something must be wrong with you. 

Then, suddenly, there’s a soothing presence on your knee. 

Dave. 

He squeezes twice, then circles his thumb over your knee, replacing the anxiety with pleasant tingles. You blink with surprise and turn to look at him but he’s staring at your dad, you hadn’t even realize the conversation had shifted from you to something else entirely. 

Dave leans into your ear, his breath welcome as it ghosts your skin, “Breathe,” he whispers. “And excuse yourself from the table. I’ll find you.” 

Your nod is barely noticable. You do as he says, excusing yourself and heading upstairs. No one really took notice of your absence, they believes you to be dramatic and they were no strangers to you suddenly deserting the table. 

You sigh as you climb the stairs and instead of your shared bedroom with Chris, you head to your childhood bedroom. 

Climbing into your old bed, you pull the pillow to your front and wrap your arms around it. Street light stretches shadows into your room. You remember the times you stared into Dave’s bedroom, how he’d talk to you through giant notes. 

Ten minutes later, your door opens. 

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, every word spoken carefully, scared you’ll bolt through the door like a spooked deer. He pushes the door closed and takes a seat at the end of your bed. You notice his eyes scanning the bedroom. “Brings back memories,” he mutters. 

“Yeah,” you nod, hugging your pillow tighter. “Bet you didn’t miss the mess downstairs though.” 

“To be honest I got a little preview before you and Chris arrived,” the muscle above his jaw twitches. “Your parents really haven’t changed in the slightest.” 

“Too bad they didn’t die instead of your parents—” you cut yourself short, clamping a hand over your mouth. What the fuck is wrong with you? “Shit sorry–I didn’t—” 

He says nothing. Instead he wraps his fingers around your ankle and tugs your leg over his lap, “Don’t be. I wish the same thing too sometimes,” he lets out a breath. “Never would’ve thought you’d get engaged with the combination of both of them though.” 

Shame. All you feel is shame. 

You slightly tug at your leg but he doesn’t allow you to recoil from him. “Let me help you,” he says, taking you by surprise. 

“Help me?” you ask. Without thinking you let go of your pillow and move towards him, entranced by the way the light sharpens the edges of his face. “Help me how?” 

“Let’s kill the fucker.” 

“W-What?!” surely you didn’t hear him right. You shake your head. “Did you just say kill?” 

With a tender brush of his lips against yours, the world falls away. A doft whimper echoes in your throat and he presses forward, the tip of his thumb tracing the seam of your lips. You open wide for him, allowing Dave to lick deeper into your mouth. Your tongue press together, years of longing and wait adding to the kiss like salt in chocolate. You don’t ever want it to stop. 

“I still hear the waves from that night,” he murmurs, soft pillowy lips brushing against your own. “Tell me to stop and I will. But if you want this, want me—All you have to do is say the word.”

Again, tears well in your eyes. It’s sudden and uncomfortable. You choke on the words you attempt to speak, shaking your head violentls as a shudder rolls down your spine. He presses a comforting palm on your cheek. “Dave I’m a mess,” you hiccup.  

“So am I,” he says matter-of-factly, he grinds the pad of his thumb into your cheekbone. “You can cry, sweetheart. I’m here for you.” 

Before you get the chance you’re being pushed back against the mattress. He slowly tugs down your pants, removing them enreily and leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He stares at you like you’re everything he wants and needs. Your skin prickles, his words finally settling in. 

This man wanted to kill for you. 

And not a bone in your body wants to object to it. 

“You’re not broken,” He pushes your shirt up, laying a kiss on your stomach, a bit of tongue following the purse of lips. “Every part of you is perfect, tender, and right.” 

The damns break with a hiccup. Tears flow effortlessly down your cheeks; salty drops going down your neck and being absorbed into the fabric underneath. You swallow, over and over, it’s difficult to breathe, so hard to catch your breath while your eyes never seem to dry out. 

Dave hovers above you, arms caging in your head. His gaze reminds you of a curious cat, wide, observant. He leans in and with the flat of his tongue, he tastes the sadness on your skin. He follows the traces down your neck, nose caressing your jaw as he licks all of it away. You feel the thick outline of his cock against your bare stomach, arousal heats between your legs and when you arc your back, he groans at the way you soft flesh grazes his length. 

He moves lower and lower, kissing a trail from between your breasts and all the way down to your quivering cunt. He tastes your through your underwear that dampened with arousal. Dave pushes his tongue, forcing himself deeper, groaning at your taste before pushing the fabric down to your knees. 

“I couldn’t help you back when we were kids—with your family,” he mutters into you, his breath chilling your wet folds. “Let me help you now.” 

His lips trace your folds, slipping his tongue and kissing your where no one has ever kissed befor leisurely. Dave takes his time with it, slipping his tongue and pulling it back like he’d do with your mouth. Your crying subdues into loud sniffles and his hand reaches out, cupping your chin. “Cry for me, baby. Don’t hide your sadness from me.” his grip tightens and nips the sensitive flesh right under your pelvic bone. “Cry.” 

You do so with a hitch of breath. However, your cries swiftly shift into moans when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking loudly at the sensitive nub. Your legs brackets his face, with a smile he spreads them open with both hands, moving his jaw as he glides his lips back down, pushing his tongue against your pulsing entrance. 

“You know what my biggest regret has been all this time?” he muses, the words don’t register but you nod anyway. He brings a hand to your mound and slips a finger in, curling it knuckle deep. Your chest heaves at the pressure, making your entire upper body jolt. “Not tasting this sweet pussy the first time we were together.” 

Daves crawls back up, pressing lips to your neck and then to your cheek where the tear streaks had begun to dry. “I wanted to do so many things that night, but you were looking at me with those big beautiful eyes, completely in love. . .” he takes a deep breath, and growls as he exhales. “I wanted to ruin you but I coudn’t, I didn’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you.” 

“What about now?” you gasp, gaining a moment of clarity. He chuckles, the sound resonating deep from his chest. 

“Now,” he purrs and goes down you again, licking a fat stroke into your cunt. “I still want to ruin you. And I will. But you’ll know that’s not all I want. Isn’t that true, my sweet girl.” 

Again, your vision blurs with tears. 

“Answer me.” 

“Yes,” you stare at the ceiling, your eyes drying out whilst tears still drip from the corners. “I know that’s not all you want. Please, Dave, ruin me. I’m yours.” 

“I know you are, sweetheart,” his tongue delves between your soaked folds, the curve of his nose causing delicious friction against your clit. Pleasure tightens in your stomach, your inner walls squeezing his finger tight. “You’ve been mine ever since I laid eyes on you.” 

He sucks and slurps, moving his head from side to side as he quickly brings you to the edge. His mouth feels so damn good, and the raw emotions coursing through your veins only add to the pleasure, heightening your senses. You cry out as he pulls out his finger, only to replace it with his tongue, pushing deep. When you look down the bottom half of his face is buried gully into your pussy, the only visible movement being his jawline moving. 

Sweat beads at your forehead. Your heart is pounding, your breath ragged as Dave increases the tempo of his tongue, exploring every inch of you greedily. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, rubbing and massaging your clit expertly and sending sparks of pleasure electrifying through your body. The sensation is overwhelming - so much pleasure, it's almost too much.

The pleasure builds and builds until it feels like it is consuming every inch of you, making it hard to remember that your family—or Chris—might hear you. You close your eyes and let out a moan as Dave continues to work his magic. Your back arches as the pleasure intensifies, and each breath feels like a jolt of lightning shooting through your body.

“Let them here, baby,” he rasps, briefly parting from you. “You’re mine now. They should know.” 

You throw your head back, crying out in pleasure, as it finally sweeps over you. Every muscle in your body tightens as the intense waves of pleasure ripple through you, and you clutch desperately at Dave, gripping his shoulders until the convulsions of pleasure finally die down. He hums happily, not letting up as he licks every inch of you clean. 

Dave works his mouth on your clit, tongue swirling around it lightly, then licks and sucks it hard, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you until the tide of orgasm crashes over you again and leaves you trembling. Dave doesn't stop until every last bit of pleasure has been wrung from your body, until you can do nothing, nothing but lie there and process what just happened. 

When Dave finally does stop, you can barely move your limbs. He drapes himself over you, his warmth calming your raging heart. 

“Invite him to my place tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Wouldn’t my parents get suspicious?” 

“If they do,” he kisses your eyes one by one, still wet and aching but done with the tears. “I’ll take care of them too.”  

You hate to admit but Chris looks good tied in a chair all bloody and bruised. 

“Fucking tell him to let me go,” he barks at you but his pleas are cut short when Dave comes behind him and yanks his head by the hair. He yelps in pain, eyes squeezing shut when Dave presses the barrel of the gun into his neck. “You two are fucked in the head,” he murmurs. “Just let me go, I won’t say anything.” 

Your body becomes rigid, tense. You don’t regret this, and it feels good to finally see him break. He’s been doing the same to you for months. Belittling you and finding amusement in treating you like thrash. 

Dave’s gaze finds your own, you find it hard to look away. 

“Come here,” he says voice growing soft. “Don’t be afraid of him, sweetheart, he can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Despite all his fear, Chris still manages to glare at you. “You could’ve just broken up with me. It’s your fault.” 

“Mine?” you finally say, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice. You made sure of that.” 

“You’re not thinking clearly—” 

Dave’s voice cuts through the air. 

“I’ve had enough.” 

He pulls the trigger. 

The bullet leaves the barrel of the gun in complete silence. 

You don’t even flinch when Chris’s head drops, blood pouring from between his lips and down his chest. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he sits on the end of the bed. You’re left standing in front of Chris, not looking at him directly, but hearing the last of the gushing sounds of the bullet wound. 

You should feel remorse. 

But all you feel is relief that he’s gone. 

The realization makes you drop down to your knees, you hear the bed creak as Dave attempts to get up but you stop him with the raise of your hand. “I’m okay,” you gasp. “Just. . . in shock.” you turn to him. “Are. . . are you okay?” 

“Okay as I’ll ever be,” gun still in hand, over his thigh, he spreads his legs as he settles back down. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the gun, a sudden hunger flashing in your eyes. His lips stretch into a grin, his hands sliding to hand loose over the inside of his thighs, he gestures for you to come closer with the gun. “Crawl to me.” 

A thrill shoots up your spine. You move slowly, crawling towards him until you are close enough for him to reach out and touch you. You watch him carefully, studying the gun still clenched in his hand before meeting his gaze. You settle yourself at his feet, never taking your eyes away from his. 

Dave slowly reaches out and takes your chin gently in his hand, guiding your mouth closer to where the gun rests. He leans down, his face inches away from yours, and whispers, “You want to taste the weapon that ended that shit-heads’ life?”

You take a deep breath and nod. 

Before he can give the command, you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out. 

His pupils dilate as he guides the barrel into your mouth, against the flat surface of your tongue. It’s cold and the metallic taste overwhelms you but you enjoy it. Dave pushes deeper until you’re gagging, you close your lips around it, your eyes dropping where his finger still rests on the trigger. 

“Look at that,” he murmurs, mesmerized. “Your life is in my hands, all it’ll take to end it is one trigger.” 

You moan at the thought, you’re wholly his, and nothing can stop that now. 

Dave touches your cheek with his other hand, his fingers kind.

 “I’ll treat it with care.” 

#dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #the equalizer 2 fanfic #dave york fanfic #dave york smut #hauntedhoedown

[alwaysdjarin]

Red

also on AO3

Dave York x f!reader

( banner by me )

RATING: Explicit 18+ ONLY. No Minors Please. My work is 18+.

Summary: You’re hired by Carol York to test if her husband Dave is faithful. The rest is history…

Words: ~3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, dom!Dave, dom/sub vibes, infidelity, oral (m and f receiving), choking…so much choking (I’m sorry), kind of degradation (Daves a cocky bastard, he calls you „slut“ a few times), guided masturbation (f), fingering, squirting, rough sex,unprotected PIV, a hint of angry Dave, a little bit angst.

A/N: I had this idea when I listened to Kate Bush‘s „Babooshka“ and it fits so well for Dave. I’m a slut for this man, I’m sorry. 😅 I hope y‘all gonna like it. 🫶🏼

And as always: Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcome. 💜💜💜

You spot him as soon as you enter the small hotel bar in Atlanta. Even if you can only see him from behind, you don't need to check the photo you received from your client again. Broad shoulders, short brown hair, long and muscular legs, he’s wearing a black suit just like Carol York predicted.

You walk to the bar full of self-confidence and sit down at the counter, leaving two stools between you and the handsome stranger free.

A quick reach into your purse to pull out your little hand mirror and your perfectly manicured finger adjusts the red lipstick on your sinful lips with a skillful hand movement.

Of course Dave noticed you the moment you entered the bar. The knock of your high heels on the hard stone floor catches the attention of every man in the room.

He does a double take as you reach the chair to his left. Your floor length black dress reveals your right leg through a slit up to your thigh. If Dave looks closely enough, he can spot the lace on the edge of your stockings and he licks his lips at the sight. Your lips are red like the bottom of your expensive high heels and your hair looks soft in the dim light of the bar. Dave escapes a low growl deep in his throat. Like a predator that has scented its prey and is just waiting for the right moment to hunt it down. Finally, he takes his eyes off you and takes a long sip of his whiskey. That’s gonna be an interesting night, he can feel it.

You pretend not to notice that he just shamelessly checked you out and grab your mobile phone. „Hello?“ There’s nobody on the other end of the line, but the man next to you doesn’t have to know. „Oh okay.“ You play the disappointed girlfriend. „Yeah…see you tomorrow then.“ You let out a loud sigh and press the record button on your phone, if Dave takes your bait, you need a proof for his suspicious wife, your client.

"Idiot!" A deep voice reaches your ear after you've ordered a drink and you have to bite your tongue to keep yourself from smiling. Gotcha! You think to yourself and look in the direction of the man next to you with an innocent, questioning look. „Sorry, what?“

He looks at you with a smirk. "Whoever dumps a woman like you is an idiot."

It's easy to have a conversation with Dave York. He's charming, interested in you and undeniably handsome. You notice his eyes on your lips when you talk and his gaze lingers longer and longer on your breasts or the bare leg while you’re sipping your drink. It’s almost a shame that he’s just a job for you and you catch yourself imagining how it would feel if his big, masculine hands would roam all over your body. When you run your hand through your hair, presenting your bare throat as if you're ready to be claimed by him, and Dave has to adjust himself with the palm of his hand because of your submissive behavior, you decide that it’s time for the final step of your test. Carol wants to know if he would do more than just flirting and you’re ready to find it out.

It’s not really a surprise that there’s a knock on you door about 10 minutes after you left the bar and scribbled your room number on his napkin. And you’re a little bit ashamed that you’re actually happy about it. You take a last look into the huge mirror, you’re just in your lingerie and stockings and wear a see thought nightgown. Let’s take a deep breath, let him in, tell him that his wife hired you to test if he is a cheater, kick him out and call Carol. That’s all. You’ve done this almost a hundred times.

But there has never been a Dave York before.

You slowly open the door, presenting your sinful appearance before his eyes. He just stands there for a few seconds and you get the feeling he's hesitating. Dave looks at you, his eyes traveling up and down, lingering on your panties, your breasts and finally on your red lips again. Then something inside of him seems to snap, with two long strides he is in your room and slams the door behind him shut. Before you can react, he turns you around and pins you with your back against the door.

He's suddenly everywhere. One hand grabs your waist, the other one is at the side of your neck. You look at him wide-eyed, all your alarm bells are ringing to end the situation, he’s the husband of a client, he’s a cheater, he’s your fucking job, but you can't. His scent is intoxicating, the warmth he exudes gives you energy, the way he looks at you makes you feel like a damn goddess.

He slowly rubs his thumb over your lower lip and smirks. „God I couldn't think of anything else all night but your pretty little mouth around my cock. How he's all smeared with your red lipstick.“

You clench your thighs together, you’re already soaked from his cocky attitude alone. You let your tongue dart out of your mouth to lick at Daves thumb. He locks eyes with you while your wet and warm tongue circles around his digit and you suck it slowly into your mouth. He clenches his jaw and the hand on your waist disappears and fumbles to open his belt and slacks. You bite his thumb experimentally and he withdraws it out of your mouth to hold your chin in a firm grip.

„You gonna be a good girl and suck my dick?“ Dave’s voice is almost hoarse when he speaks and you try to nod with his hand still holding you tight. „Nah-nah sweet thing. I need you to say it. Use your words.

Do. You. Want. To. Suck. My. Dick?“

His gaze burns right through you and you manage to say a weak „Yes!“ Dave smirks and looks you up and down. „You had an attitude like a slut the whole evening and look at you now.“ You close your eyes for a short moment. You know he’s right, but he took you by surprise. There’s this conflict deep inside of you because all of this is completely wrong, but then you open your eyes again. You want him, damn you want him so bad.

„Beg for it!“ His hands grab into his slacks and briefs and then he pulls his cock out. He’s big and hard, the tip swollen and red, in need for a relief. Dave lets you stare at him for a moment, then his grip on your chin hardens again and he raises your head so that you look him in the eyes again. „BEG!“ He grits his teeth and you ask yourself if you should be afraid of him.

„Please…fuck please let me suck your dick. I-I want it…I need it so bad.“ You whimper, squirming in front of him, clit throbbing and needy for some attention.

Finally satisfied with your behavior, Dave puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you down onto your knees. The door is still behind you and you try to find the most comfortable position possible, but all of that is long forgotten when you notice the big cock right in front of your face. You grab him at the base and lick along his vein just with the tip of your tongue. Dave hisses at your touch and you finally hear him moan in delight when you close your lips around his leaking tip. His taste is intoxicating. You give him an experimentally suck and look up to see Dave’s face.

God he’s a sight. He’s looking right at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. It doesn’t bother you that he’s still wearing his full suit. You open your mouth wider and let him slide slowly along your tongue and down your throat. Dave sucks in a deep breath and whispers a „fuck“ and for a short moment you’re thinking that you’re the one in charge, but then he seems to remember what he has started with you and reverts to his previous behavior.

He puts his hand on the back of your head and caresses your hair in a short loving gesture, but then he grabs your hair hard to keep you in place and starts to move his hips. You try unsuccessfully to withstand him. Dave's length takes up so much space in your mouth that tears suddenly well up in your eyes. You do your best to relax and breathe through your nose while trying to steady yourself with your hands on his thighs, but his pace is too reckless.

„Look at you little slut. Drooling all over your tits while your choking on my fat cock.“ Dave grunts and pants. His movements stutter for a moment when you choke again and swallow around him and you think he’s already coming, but then he stops. He stops right when his fucking big dick is deep down your throat and you can do nothing but look up into his deep brown eyes. It's a demonstration of power, no question.

You breathe hastily through your nose while tears fall down your cheeks. „What a fucking sight you are. Made for me to be used.“ You manage to make a strangled noise which only leads to more saliva dripping down your chin. And then he smiles, Dave actually smiles at the sight of you choking on his cock and you’re ashamed that you’re so turned on by his dominant behavior.

The hand in your hair loosens his grip and he starts to caress your face, his dick still balls deep down your throat.

„Are you wet baby?“

You try to nod.

„Do you want me to show you what I’ve planned for this little pussy of yours?“

You nod a little bit harder.

„Are you gonna be a good girl for me and take what I’ll give to you?“

Nod.

Then Dave finally slides his cock out of your mouth and you instantly gasp for air. He helps you to stand up and you lean breathless against the door behind you.

„Take your clothes off!“ Dave commands and you obey his command without hesitation. Once you’re just in your stockings, he‘s satisfied.

„How do you want me?“ It’s the first time you‘ve spoken in the last half an hour and your throat feels raw.

Dave‘s thumb gathers the saliva on your chin and let you lick it off him while he studies your face. „Lay down on the bed, make yourself comfortable while I take my closes off.“

You watch him while you lay on your back. He methodically strips down and drapes his clothes over a chair. He’s gorgeous you think to yourself. His shoulders are broad, his back muscular and the the gentle curve of his stomach makes him so fucking sexy. His still erected dick bobs proudly between his hairy thighs when he walks over to the bed.

„Spread those beautiful legs for me.“

You do what he wants and see how he licks his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

„Touch yourself. Spread your pussy and let me see.“ His voice is deep, so much deeper than it was at the bar.

You let your hand trace over your mound and use two fingers to spread your pussy lips. You can hear the wet sound they’re making and Dave bites his bottom lip at the view in front of him. He sits down on the bed right between your legs and caresses your lower leg. He watches as you start to stroke gentle circles over your clit and you got the feeling he won’t touch you tonight. But you know that’s all a part of his game, so you go on further and let one finger slide into your wet hole.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of some relief and you feel the hand on your leg grip you harder.

„Eyes on me baby. And now add a second finger.“

You obey.

„Good girl. Now edge yourself. Show me what you need.“

You moan as you add a third finger and pump them in and out of your soaked pussy. You curl them to find the perfect spot inside of you and whimper when you almost reach it.

Dave chuckles. „Needy little thing! Need my long fingers to make you come?“

You look at him breathless. „Yes! Fuck yes, please touch me Dave.“

He lets his hand wander over the soft skin of your leg and you shudder while your still fucking yourself. Dave lowers his head and you can feel his hot breath on your wet skin. His hand grabs your wrist then and you stop moving. He lets your fingers slowly glide out of your pussy just to stick them into his mouth. Dave hums at the taste of you and licks every inch clean. „Fucking delicious.“

The feeling of his fingers inside of you and his mouth on your clit is what throws you finally over the edge. He has you pinned down on the mattress with one hand flat on your stomach, your back arches and you’re moaning -no screaming- out of pleasure.

„Damn!“ Dave’s groaning while he curls his fingers against your g spot again and again. „Let it all out baby. I can feel it. Give it to me. COME ON!“ You don’t know what he means and can’t tell if it’s still the same orgasm or another one. But the knot in your lower belly bursts again and you have the most intense feeling of your whole life. You gush all over Daves hand and forearm while you ride your orgasm. He pants little praises between your legs and looks like he also can’t believe what he just coaxed out of you.

„Fucking hell, this was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.“

„I…I don’t know…I’ve never…“ You are speechless and totally overwhelmed by the whole situation.

A harsh slap on your thigh gets you finally back to earth and Dave is already back to „business“.

„Hands and knees! Turn around, I want to watch us in the mirror.“

You do as you’re told, facing the mirror at the other side of the bed. Dave smacks your ass cheeks hard and you yell at the pain.

„Need to fuck this pussy so bad.“ You feel the hot head of his cock on your entrance for just a second before he enters you with one brutally thrust. You have to time to adjust to his length, he just slams into you again and again. The sound of wet skin slapping on wet skin fills the room completely and you whimper because he doesn’t seem to give you a break. His hand slaps your ass again and you swear you’ll see his hand imprinted on your skin for the next weeks. A reminder of what a horrible person you are.

Just like he could read your mind, Dave puts his hand around your neck from behind and pulls you up so that your back is right against his sweaty chest. He doesn't even stammer in his movements and fucks relentless into you while he locks his eyes with yours through the mirror. You’re looking totally destroyed, your hair is a mess, make up all over your face.

Then Dave squeezes your throat "Look at you little slut. Fucking your client's husband. Does that make you horny, huh?“

You widen your eyes in shock.

He knows. How? Why?

Your body reacts in its own way, squeezing his cock deep inside of you, which elicits a loud moan from Dave. He smiles mischievously while brutally pounding into you. The vein in his neck is prominent, his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. One hand is still on your throat, the other is squeezing your tit.

"Do you do that with all the men you're supposed to seduce? Filthy little slut!"

You notice the sweat running down your back, it's suddenly much too warm in the room. You’re thirsty, so fucking thirsty. The sounds your bodies make are obscene but such a turn on.

You try to shake your head but the grip on your throat is so strong. You can't speak, you can't breathe. For a moment you think Dave is choking you to death. That's it. It was clear that the job would eventually be fatal for you. You've never slept with one of the men, even if so many of them wanted to. But Dave, fuck, he's so different. You hear and feel his breath in your ear, he grunts.

Just as the edge of your vision turns black, he finally takes his hand from your throat. You take a deep breath, your lungs are hurting and before you can think straight again flips Dave you onto your back and is inside your pussy within seconds.

The new angle lets you see stars. The only thing you can do is to take it. Take every inch he has to offer, every thrust he gives you.

You don’t dare to close your eyes, you know that he wants you to see him. There’s a droplet of sweat running down his forehead and dripping on you.

„Fuck Dave…“

He brings both of you to to the edge within a few thrusts and then he starts to praise you again when he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder.

„…so good to me…“

„…so beautiful…“

„…how should I keep being a faithful husband when you come around and try to seduce me?“

„…love this pussy…“

„…taking me so good…“

„…made for me…“

You feel your orgasm rushing right to you with every word he’s saying. It feels so good that he gives you the feeling that you’re not that bad as you think you are.

He commands you to come when he feels your walls flutter around him and follows you right over the edge with your name on his lips. Dave grabs your thigh hard, his other hand on the base of your neck. Hot spurs of his cum coat your insides and you can feel him trembling while he still rocks into you in a slower rhythm. He’s never closed his eyes for just a second, he watches you the whole time.

You look at each other for a long moment, searching for breath before he pulls his softening cock out of you with a hiss.

You roll on your side while Dave goes into the bathroom and when he comes back with a wet towel to clean you up, you’re already almost asleep. Dave drapes the blanket over your naked form and looks at your beautiful face.

He smiles, of course he knew that you would come after him sooner or later, he knows everything Carol is doing with her phone and notebook. What he hasn’t got planned is that he couldn’t resist you. He wanted to give Carol the feeling that he’s faithful, stop all her doubts. He failed.

The bed is cold and empty when you wake up the next morning. You’re not surprised to be honest, but it stings a little bit though.

You watch yourself in the mirror while you wash your face. Guilt overcomes you. What have you done? You fucked a married man. Red lipstick is still smeared all around your mouth and you rub almost furious to get rid of it. He didn’t even kiss you. The thought enters your mind like a parasite. He just used your for his pleasure, all that meant nothing to him. A single tear runs down your face. But then you remember his eyes, how he looked at you, how your name on his lips sounded when he came. He’s a cheater. He has a wife!

You walk to the table to get your mobile phone so that you can call Carol and tell her what an asshole her husband is. There’s a piece of paper lying next to it.

You read the note with your phone on your ear.

Same hotel room.

In two weeks.

- D

„Hello?“

„Carol? Hi it’s me…..I just want to tell you that everything’s fine.“

„Oh thank you so much. You can not imagine how happy I am.“ She sighs and you can feel her smile through the phone.

„Yeah, you can be proud to have such a great husband.“

You turn the piece of paper around. There’s another note.

Wear that red lipstick again.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york pit #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york x f!reader #dave york x reader

[pedropascalsx]

Kinktober - Day Seven: Somnophilia.

Dave York × F! Reader.

Summary: Dave wakes you up in the most delicious way.

Warning: Fic contains consensual somnophilia.

Word Count: 654!

A/N: Prompt from @absurdthirst’s list! And a massive thank you to Keri for helping out where I was stuck. Hope y’all enjoy.

The rise and fall of your chest paired with the soft moans of his name made his entire body shiver. You’re asleep, and you’re clearly dreaming about him, his name and the most delicious noises slip from your lips with ease as he watches your lips curl up into the most beautiful smile.

With your chest pressed up against his he can feel every breath you take, each breath gently coating his skin and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches against his stomach, hard and crying out for some relief as you tempt him sweetly in your sleep.

You had spoken about it before after Dave had teased the way you moan his name in your sleep, and he affectionately began referring to you as his dirty little temptress and that’s when you started to plead with him… “You have my consent,” you murmured against his lips, “Awake, asleep… whenever. Fuck, Dave, I want you to wake me up just to overwhelm me… Just to take what you need from me.”

Your words feel like ice water being dumped over him as he replays them over and over, he had considered it before yes, but tonight he isn’t sure he has the strength to deny himself.

He gives himself a few tugs, swiping his thumb over the head and massaging the droplets of precum that had started to drip into his shaft before sighing loudly and replaying those delicious words. ‘You have my consent.’

He reaches over and gently drags a finger through your slit, groaning at just how wet you are from dreaming about him alone.

He knows that he’s too thick to just slip himself in, even with the amount of slick dripping from you. He turns himself slightly and then slowly presses a finger inside of you, pumping it softly over and over before curling it up against that spongy spot. The moment you stir, he freezes, letting a few moments pass by before resuming his motions.

His cock twitches impatiently as your moans fall more freely, and his name is the only word left to hang in the air. He twists his wrist a little more as your walls flutter against his digit, before adding a second and then a third and pumping them faster and faster until you clamp down and cry out so beautifully in your sleep.

Comfortable that you’re stretched out enough to fit him, he coats his cock in the arousal you dripped down his fingers and his hand. Dave slowly brings himself closer to you, dragging the tip of him through your folds just to hear you cry out again, before pressing himself against your entrance.

With the softest snap of his hips he pushes just the tip inside of you, studying your face before slowly inching himself in until you’re filled with him. He moves your leg a little higher and starts to rock back and forth, hissing as he finally gets a little relief as your walls flutter against him.

He groans your name as he starts to build up his pace, needing you to wake, so he can capture your lips and steal your breath in more ways than just one. “Baby,” he growls against your ear, and groans as you just stir again, “Fuck, baby,” he growls from behind his teeth before fucking you even harder.

His cock shreds up something devastating inside of you, and you wake with a scream of his name, clamping down and flooding his cock with your cum as he smashes his lips against yours.

Groaning in relief as he stiffens, filling you with his cum in thick ropes. You had told him that he could wake you up to overwhelm you and from the dazed look of bliss on your face, it had been a hell of a wake up alarm.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #dave york #dave york smut #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york imagine #dave york fanfic #the equalizer #the equalizer 2 #the equalizer fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #CKT23

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

The Princess And the Duke | Chapter 10: Pandemonium

Summary: Things go from bad, to worse, to utter pandemonium Word Count: 7k Warnings: strained family relationships, abusive parent, threats of physical harm, abuse, mild violence, language, strained friendships, violence, gun violence, stalking, pining, angst. Author's Notes: We're almost at the end! There will be an epilogue (or 6?) after the final chapter is done, but the journey is reaching it's end friends. Two more chapters to go, will The Princess and The Duke get their happily ever after? Co-written by the marvellous @angelofsmalldeath-codeine Follow @vi-notifs and consider buying me a coffee if you enjoy my work! AO3

Main Masterlist

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

The smell of coffee lures you awake. You open your eyes to find the light from your windows muted by a sheet over your face. You frown, still weary with sleep as you try and gain your bearings.

The sound of your cupboards opening and closing beyond your bedroom door makes you freeze, there’s someone in your apartment. The sound of someone humming a tune carries through the door and it hits you.

Dave.

You wrestle yourself out of your sheets and check your phone, it’s almost ten in the morning and you rub your jaw as you check through your messages. Multiple missed calls from both Pete and Ash, your group chat has been renamed a few times, ranging from “Bitch, are you alive?” to “Please contact us, babe.”. You scroll through the messages before typing a response.

You: I’m fine, Nancy’s in jail. I’m safe, Dave slept on the couch cuz the door’s busted. Don’t say a word, Pete. I’ll keep you posted. Please don’t come over, I need space. I mean it.

You watch as both of them start to type, the little bubble appearing next to both of their names. You throw the phone onto the bed before heading to the bathroom. You shower and get dressed; you hold Dave’s hoodie in your hands for a moment. It still smells like him, at least you think it does. You decide against it, you stuff it under your comforter before pulling on a plain black one instead.

“Dave?” You call through the door as you hover over the doorknob.

“In the kitchen,” Dave calls back through the apartment and your heart twists at the sound of his voice, at the thought of him making you coffee in your kitchen.

Before you can lose yourself to the fantasy of domesticity with Dave, you break the spell. You pull the door open and it’s worse, so much worse. He’s there, hair dishevelled as he stands with his back to you. His dress shirt is creased, sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he works the coffee machine. His tight slacks hug his pert ass too well and you want nothing more than to walk up and wrap yourself around him from behind.

“Morning,” you say meekly as you remember how he stopped you from taking things further last night. You want to tell yourself it wasn’t a true rejection, you felt it in the way he kissed back, you want to believe that he was as desperate as you. But the moment he turns to look at you, your heart shatters.

“Morning,” he responds, his voice low as he glances at you for a second over his shoulder before turning back to the coffee machine.

“You don’t have to stick around,” you say as you linger in the doorway, “I can handle the maintenance guy, it’s fine.”

“I promised I’d stay and help,” Dave says as he turns around, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

“I don’t want to keep you, I’ll be fine,” you say a little firmer this time, you can feel the grief welling up in you as he looks at you. His expression is cold, so neutral it can’t be anything but a practiced mask.

“If you’re not comfortable with me being here, I can go,” Dave says as you notice his jaw tick to the side a little, “I’ve already called the security firm and their guy is on the way.”

“That would probably be for the best,” you say as your voice breaks, “Thank you.”

“If you need anything, just call,” Dave says as his mask slips, his shoulders sag and he looks at you, dark eyes betraying the sadness behind the mask.

“I will,” you confirm as you force a smile, you want to say more but you know if you do you’ll probably cry.

Dave nods curtly before placing your coffee mug on the counter, he drains his own with a grimace. It’s clearly too hot to have done that comfortably. He lingers for a moment before striding over to the door. He has to force it open; the doorframe so badly damaged it really did have to be jammed shut last night. He pauses, looking as if he wants to say something else, but ultimately decides against it, flashing you a sad smile before disappearing into the hallway.

You pick the mug up from the counter, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid before retrieving your phone from the bedroom along with your laptop. You settle down against the armrest of the loveseat before emailing the Bar admissions office.

It’s going to be a long day of explanations, citing police reports, and endless email chains to get your application back on track.

~*~

Dave lets out a frustrated sigh as he sits back in his desk chair, glaring at Resnik as the smaller man seems to shrink away from Dave’s scathing gaze. It’s Friday morning, two days since Nancy decided to break into your apartment. Two days since he’s heard from his subordinate that should have been checking in at hourly intervals.

Furious doesn’t come close to describing what Dave is feeling right now.  

“So,” Dave says calmly, “Do you want to explain yourself?”

“I was just getting some more pictures, you know, surveillance and all that,” Resnik splutters as his beady eyes flit to the blinking light of the card reader attached to Dave’s PC.

“Surveillance?” Dave repeats as he turns one of his monitors around aggressively to face his subordinate, “What were you surveilling here, Resnik? Huh?”

Resnik squirms as he’s forced to look at the pin-sharp image of you bending over in yoga pants. It’s from the start of your run with Pete yesterday, there’s no mistaking what Resnik’s lens was trained on.

“I fucked up, boss,” Resnik says as he aggressively scrapes his fingers against his chin, unable to offer any other excuse than that.

“Fucking pathetic,” Dave snarls as he turns the monitor back around, “You’re off the PI job, Ari’s taking over, get out of my sight.”

“But-,” Resnik starts to protest but Dave shoots him a look, his dark eyes flashing with rage like nothing Resnik has ever seen. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before scurrying out of the office.

Dave pinches the bridge of his nose as he counts back from twenty in his head. The stress of the target, of Nancy’s freshly served divorce papers on his desk, and your safety is wearing him thin. The only thing keeping him sane is the knowledge that you’re safe, for now.

He picks up his cell phone and dials Kovac’s number, it rings twice before Kovac’s gruff voice sounds in his ear.

“Maintenance guy just left, fucker wouldn’t paint the new doorframe,” Kovac grumbles without so much as a word of greeting. Dave likes that about Kovac, no bullshit.

“Noted, I’ll sort something out,” Dave says, hoping he can smooth things over with you soon, “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Yes, boss,” Kovac says flatly before ending the call.

Dave spends the next few hours looking over the CCTV footage from the chase. Scrubbing back through minute by minute as he tries to find where the target slipped away. He’s been reviewing the footage obsessively. Practically not moving from his chair and barely eating. He tells himself it’s just the job, but he knows some of it has to do with you. The way you looked when he rejected you is burned into his brain. It haunts him to know he hurt you, even if he knows it was the right thing to do.

His stomach gurgles, snapping him out of his thought spiral and he sighs. Having skipped breakfast and now, lunch it seems, Dave is ravenous. He’s about to give up and get something from the break room vending machine when he sees it. Something he hadn’t caught before.

The flash of police cars in the background of one of the final moments of footage before they lost the target. Something worries at the back of Dave’s mind as he brings up a map of the area on his other monitor.

“Son of a bitch,” Dave curses as he brings up the CCTV footage from outside your building. He watches in horror as a lone figure makes his way into the frame. The dark-haired man lingers at the edge of the taped off crime scene, Nancy is being hauled out unconscious as the target lifts his head up and looks directly into the lens of the camera.

Dave scrambles to pick up his phone, desperately trying to get through to you, but each time it goes to voicemail.

“Fuck!” He roars into the empty room as he throws his phone down.

He has to calm down, there’s no guarantee the target was there for you. It has to be a coincidence, there’s no way there’s a target on your back. He settles back into his chair, hunger forgotten as bile rises in his throat. He continues to watch the recording, hoping beyond hope that the target moves on when Nancy is carted off.

The police car leaves the scene and Dave’s jaw goes tense as he watches the next thirty minutes play out. He watches as he arrives at the apartment, the target stays exactly where he has been the whole recording. Waiting.

To Dave’s dismay, it’s only when he watches the recording of him escorting you out and away from the scene that the target leaves. There’s no mistaking it now.

You’re in danger.

~*~

The small hole-in-the-wall establishment is quiet as you drum your fingers on the top of the lacquered bar. You scroll through your phone as you wait for Ash and Pete to arrive. You’re already regretting the decision to call Ash. It’s too soon, you’re too angry with them both. You tip back the last of your whiskey as you check your phone for any new messages. Nothing.

The last two days have dragged, you’ve barely left your bed. The moment the security guy had left, you’d locked up and shut down all your devices. Between crying and sleeping far too much, you made the decision to meet with Ash and Pete.

You’re about to leave when you notice a fresh drink being placed in front of you. You look up to the bartender who points to the other end of the bar.

“Gentleman insisted,” he says with a smile before being called over by another patron.

You turn to look at your admirer and you smile politely at the man. He’s a little older than you, around Dave’s age if you had to guess. He’s well dressed in tight black slacks and a loose fit white shirt. His buttons are undone to expose the cleft of his pecs, there’s a smattering of dark hair there that makes your stomach flutter. He has a kind face, dark green eyes that sparkle in the low light of the bar. His dark hair is short and parted to the side.

“Thanks,” you say with a kind smile, “But I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

The man smiles wider at this, nodding knowingly.

“Smart, I don’t blame you,” he says with a dazzling smile, “You just looked like you needed a pick-me-up.”

“That obvious, huh?” You say with a grimace as you turn on your stool to face him.

“Not obvious per se,” he says as he takes a sip from his drink, “But I had a hunch, what with you being here all alone. Mind if I join you?”

“Not alone, just painfully early for friends who are notoriously late,” you say with a snort as you hail the bartender.

“Sounds like you need better friends,” he says with a raised brow as takes a seat next to you, “Making a gorgeous woman like you wait seems like a crime.”

“You flatter me,” you say as you feel the praise prickle pleasantly under your skin, “But they’re good people.”

The conversation lulls but you can feel the stranger’s eyes on you as you scroll through your phone. You’re browsing reels on Instagram when you feel a pair of arms grab you from behind. You panic, shoving back as you practically catapult yourself off the stool. You scramble to your feet and back away from the bar with wild eyes. You’re ready to swing at your assailant, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“What the fuck?” Ash’s familiar voice snaps you out of your haze. You look up to see Ash and Pete looking at you in horror.

“Jesus, Ash!” you say with a heavy sigh of relief, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

You notice the smirk on the stranger’s face as you scold your friends. There’s something else simmering under the surface there, but you’re not paying attention to him anymore. You’re smoothing down your pants as you look at your friends.

“You, ok?” Ash asks as she looks you up and down, no doubt she can see the way your shoulders slump and your eyes are glassy and bloodshot. Pete gives you a sheepish smile.

“Not really, come on, let’s get a table,” you say as you gesture further into the bar. As you turn, you hear the sound of a phone camera shuttering, but you dismiss it.

The three of you sit down in a booth, Pete and Ash taking their place opposite you. If it hadn’t already felt like an intervention, it does now. A waitress comes over and takes your drinks order before leaving the three of you alone once more.

“I see you’re really leaning into the sugar daddy angle,” Pete remarks as you take your seat, nodding towards the guy at the bar. Your jaw ticks to the side as you ignore him, Ash shoots him a look and you feel a little less tense seeing her on your side.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Ash says, “How are you doing?”

“Not bad considering my mother broke into my apartment and threatened me with a hammer, whilst demanding I admit I was fucking Dave,” you say with a shrug, too tired to beat around the bush.

“She did what?” Ash asks incredulously, “Why didn’t you call us?”

“Because after Wednesday I wasn’t sure I’d get the support I needed, let alone that you’d take my side on it. Somehow it would have to be my fault, right?” You say, the venom dripping from your tongue, and you look at them both in turn.

“You know we wouldn’t have pinned that on you,” Ash pleads but you shake your head slowly at her.

“Do I? The last few weeks have me questioning everything, Ash,” you sigh as you see your phone screen light up. You grit your teeth as you see it’s a message from Dave. Pete’s eyes flick to the screen and you’re grateful for the nickname attached to Dave’s contact.

“That’s not fair, we’re just worried about you,” Ash argues but you turn your gaze to Pete.

“Is that what Wednesday was, Pete? Concern? Because it seemed like it was all about judging me, not being concerned about my wellbeing.”

“I was concerned, the man was able to track you down on our night out. Ash told me he kept hounding you even after she took you home after that too.”

“He wasn’t hounding me,” you say as the hair on the back of your neck stands up, “He texted me once to make sure I was ok.”

“He’s creepy, babe, he’s your goddamn stepdad, and you are fucking him,” Pete says with a scowl, and you notice Ash flinch next to him. 

Your blood runs cold as you realise Ash has been talking to Pete about everything behind your back. You wonder how much she’s told him. It makes you feel sick, for all Pete’s judgement and scorn, you have always been able to confide in Ash. Or so you thought.

“You told him?” You look to Ash, your heart breaking for what feels like the hundredth time this week, “Ash, I told you about that in confidence, next you’re going to reveal you gave Nancy my address,” you scoff, but the look of shame on Ash’s face gives you pause, “You didn’t? Did you?”

“Of course not!” Ash blurts as her eyes go wide, “I only talked to Pete because I was worried about you, I’d never do that to you.” Ash says as she holds her hands up in a show of surrender.

“And yet you told Pete, behind my back,” you retort, the hum of adrenaline in your veins makes you twitchy as you look to Pete. He physically shrinks back as he meets your gaze.

“Is this why you went so hard at me on Wednesday? What gave you the right to ambush me like that?” You ask incredulously.

“You’re not known for making good choices with men, hun,” Pete argues meekly, and you have to bite your tongue, “I was just trying to make you see how fucked up this is.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Pete,” you scoff as you shake your head, “I’m not the one proposing to a guy that ‘drives me crazy’,” you emphasise the phrase with air quotes, “Because he doesn’t answer your every obsessive text and call. Can you not see the irony there?”

Pete opens and closes his mouth a few times before scowling at you. Ash is looking at her hands, her shoulders slumped, and you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

“So, which one of you decided to go full-Nancy and pull this intervention type stunt, huh?”

“That’s not what this is-,” Ash starts, her eyes wet with tears as she looks at you.

“Then what is it? Tell me, because I certainly don’t see it as anything else.”

You sit there for a moment, desperately trying to process everything as neither of them come up with an answer for you. You see your phone light up again and you snatch it up before standing. Something is wrong if Dave is messaging you now, there’s no other reason for him to break his promise to give you space. You’re once again reminded that Dave seems to be the only who never violates your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” Ash asks as her eyes plead with you.

“To the bathroom,” you snap as you meet her gaze with a stern look, “Is that ok? Or do I need your permission to pee?”

She shakes her head, looking down as the drinks arrive and the waitress obscures you from them both. You stride towards the bathroom and pull out your phone, ducking into a stall and locking it behind you.

Your eyes go wide as you see multiple missed calls from Dave, accompanied with a string of texts that make your blood run cold.

Duke 🎷: Get out.

Duke 🎷: Please, get out of there.

Duke 🎷: * Duke 🎷* sent a photo.

You open up the attachment and you see the back of your head as you walk over to Ash and Pete at the booth. There’s a banner caption on the bottom half of the image that makes your blood run cold.

“She’s beautiful, shame if anything would happen to her.”

You clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a cry as you realise the man at the bar had taken a photo of you. You slump back against the stall as you try and collect yourself. Your phone rings once more and you answer without hesitation.

“Dave?” You whisper, your voice faltering as you fight the urge to cry.

“Are you ok? Has he hurt you?” Dave’s voice is frantic on the other end of the call, which only makes your heart beat faster; it only cements the fact that you’re in serious danger.

“No, he tried to buy me a drink, I didn’t take it,” you say as you clutch the phone tightly in your hand, desperately trying to stay calm.

“I think you understand who that is right? Yes or no answers only, we can’t trust the line with specifics, ok?”

“Ok. Yes, I do, I understand who he is.”

“I need you to slip out the back,” Dave’s voice has lowered, adopting a calmer tone as he takes you through the next steps, “I’m in a silver sedan one street over, don’t run, but I need to get you out of there now. Do you understand?”

You nod, forgetting for a moment that Dave can’t see you.

“Hey?” Dave says your name and it’s like a slap to the face.  

The name jolts you back to the present and the sound of the bar outside the bathroom fills your ears as you take a steadying breath. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you force yourself to focus.

“I’m here, I’m on my way,” Your voice is more level than you expected, and you slowly make your way out of the stall, “Stay on the line?” You ask as you slip towards the back door of the bar.

“Of course, I’m here.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the bar as you walk backwards out of the bar, you feel the push bar of the back door on your palm as you hold the phone to your ear with your other hand. You hear Dave hiss on the other line as you watch the stranger chuckle to himself at the bar.

“What?” You ask, morbidly curious to what the stranger had clearly sent to Dave.

“He’s sent me another photo of you, just get out of there, ok?”

You lean back slowly, depressing the bar as gently as possible, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind hoping the door isn’t alarmed. The soft clunk of the door opening luckily isn’t loud enough to reach the bar, but the moment you’re across the threshold a siren sounds loud in the street behind you.

The stranger’s eyes flick up at the sudden sound and his glowers at you as he immediately launches himself in your direction. You slam the door behind you, heart in your throat as you try and remember where Dave said he was.

“Dave, where are you? He caught me leaving, he’s coming.”

“Turn right out of the alley, I’m waiting on the street. Go!” Dave barks as you hear an engine roar to life.

You break into a sprint, thanking your foresight to choose flats instead of heels tonight. You her the slam of the door crashing into the alley wall behind you, but you don’t turn back. You hear an angry shout behind you, and you almost pitch forward onto your face as you hear the gunshot that follows, so close behind you.

“Are you ok? Where are you?” Dave’s voice is frantic in your ear as you break out onto the street.

“I’m ok. I see the car,” you pant as you charge towards the silver sedan idling at the curb. You yank the door open, checking at the last moment that it is actually Dave in the car. His dark eyes are blazing with emotion as he checks you over briefly before driving off.

“I heard the gunshot, were you hit?” Dave asks as he focuses on the road ahead, eyes flicking back and forth as he scans for any apparent danger.

“I don’t think so,” you say with a shaky breath as you tentatively scan your body, hands drifting over your torso as you confirm, “I’m ok.”

“Good,” Dave says with a grunt as he cuts off a semi-truck. His shoulders are tense as he drives, his jaw is tight, and his knuckles are white from exertion from gripping the wheel so hard.

You slump back into your seat, your body buzzing with unspent energy as the adrenaline high courses through you. You sit in silence for a while as you watch Dave wind through the streets of Austin. You realise too late that he’s already overshot your apartment building by a few blocks. You’re heading out of town.

“I didn’t know you were in the bar,” Dave says through clenched teeth as he pulls the car into a parking garage a few blocks over from your place, “Not until he sent the photo.”

You furrow your brow, trying to understand what he means.

“Dave, what are you-?”

“I wasn’t following you, I wanted to give you space. I’m sorry but he forced my hand,” Dave turns to you with anguish behind his dark eyes.

It’s only then your brain catches up through the fog of adrenaline and fear. You remember that you pushed him away, needed him to give you space after he rejected you.

“I understand,” you say as you look away, the bitter sting of rejection burning under your skin once more as you replay the way he stopped your advances.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you realise you’re on the I35 out of Austin.

“Your apartment isn’t safe, the only place I can keep you safe is back home,” Dave says, and you can hear the agitation in his voice. You’ve never seen Dave like this, he’s so utterly unflappable, but now, it’s painful to see him so panicked.

“Home,” you nod, gathering yourself for a moment before slumping back down in the seat. The word rolls around your mind like a marble, rattling around as you try and gather your thoughts.

Neither of you say another word until you’re pulling up into a hauntingly similar parody of the day Dave brought you home from the airport all those months ago. An empty garage, no cherry red Escalade, but no red mustang either. It’s eerie.

Dave hovers at your elbow, head on a swivel, as he closes the garage door. He guides you down into the basement, hovering behind you, but not quite touching you as you descend the steps. The moment your feet hit the bottom step, it’s like a switch flips.

Tears come unbidden as you feel your knees go weak. You hear the sound of Dave arming a security system in the background as you feel the floor shift from under you. You fall to your knees and sob, your chest constricting in waves as you let out the frustrations of the last few months.

You hear the heavy thud of Dave’s knees hitting the floor next to you, followed by a barely concealed hiss.

“Hey,” his voice is low, soothing as you feel him hovering next to you, but he doesn’t touch you, he keeps his distance as you sob, “I’m here.”

But you don’t want him to keep his distance, you’re tired of the distance between you. You look up with bleary eyes and it takes you less than a second to close the gap between your bodies. You wrap your arms around him, awkwardly clinging to his kneeling form as you cry into his shirt.

“I hate you,” you sob, “I fucking hate you.”

Dave stiffens beneath you for a moment before wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you tight against him as you choke through your anger.

“Do you know what it’s like, Dave? To be so sure of something that it physically hurts when you can’t do anything about it?” You ask, it’s rhetorical, and he knows it, so he only holds you tighter.

“I did everything right. I kept my distance, I tried to forget about you, forget about us, but I can’t Dave.”

“I know,” he whispers and something about his admission – his honesty – breaks something inside you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Dave,” you say as you pull back enough to look up into his eyes, they shine with tears as they regard you with something akin to remorse, “I can’t keep loving you if it means that all I do is hurt.”

“I know,” he repeats, a single tear tracking down his face as he tries to blink them away.

“I wish I had stayed in New York,” you snap, it’s cold and you don’t really mean it, but there’s a grain of truth to it, “I would have been miserable, but I wouldn’t have this hole in my chest. I wouldn’t have fallen so hard for someone I can never have.”

Dave doesn’t say anything to that, tears falling freely now as he bows his head.

“Did I ever actually mean anything to you? Beyond being collateral damage and sex?” You ask, it’s an unfair question but nothing about this is fair anymore. It’s never been fair to you.

“Of course, you did, you still do,” Dave says solemnly as he meets your gaze, “I love you.”

It’s like time stands still as you look up into his eyes, they glitter with more tears as he brings a hand up to cup your cheek. You lean in without hesitation as you search his face for any hint of deception.

“You mean that?” You say, voice barely more than a whisper as you plead with whatever deity that is listening that this isn’t some sick joke.

“I’ve loved you for some time,” Dave says with a sad smile, “I can’t keep pretending I don’t, it’s killing me.”

“It’s been killing me too,” you say as you place your hand over Dave’s holding his hand against your cheek, “But why tell me now? What changed?”

“You mean the hitman coming after you notwithstanding?” Dave allows himself to laugh bitterly at that and you can’t help but smile, “Nancy filed for divorce from prison, got her lawyer to serve me papers this morning.”

“You’re joking?” You laugh, a genuine, throaty bark of a sound as you shake your head, “She really thinks she’s got it all figured out, doesn’t she?”

“Hubris, thy name is Nancy,” Dave says with a sigh, “Once this is all over, once the threat on your life has been neutralised, we will have time to talk this over, talk about us, about what you want.”

“I want you,” you say without hesitation and the way Dave’s lips curve up makes your heart clench, “I will always want you.”

“I want to hold you to that,” Dave says as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours once more, the contact makes you shudder, “But we can’t rush this, you can’t rush this. Once we’re on the other side of this, and once the divorce is finalised, we can do this right.”

“Ok,” you say, disappointment poisoning the moment just enough to make you focus on the danger at hand, “But I mean it, Dave,” you say as you pull back to look up into his eyes once more, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says, and you see the flicker of emotion in his eyes, the way they dart to your lips for a brief moment.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, preparing yourself for rejection, but it doesn’t come.

Dave leans down, his lips slotting over yours as his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head. You sigh as you melt into the kiss. You fist the collar of Dave’s shirt as you lean into him.

It’s different from the other night, his lips pull gently at your own as you feel the stirring of something more than lust or desire in your chest. You stifle a soft whine as he pulls your bottom lip between his own. Heat flares in your core as you savour the heat of his mouth on yours.

You pull back, fire coursing under your skin as you look up into the warmth of Dave’s gaze. You’re both smiling, Dave’s cheeks are dimpling, and you lean forward to kiss him again.

The sound of the doorbell jolts you both out of the moment and you look at Dave with wide eyes.

“It’s ok, it’s Kovac, one of my trusted colleagues, and friends. He’s here to look after you for a while,” Dave explains, a blush creeping over his face as he realises, he didn’t fill you in on the plan.

“How long is a while?”

“A few days,” Dave says as he places his hands over yours as they cling to his shirt, “A week at most, I promise.”

“You’re going to kill him, the guy from the bar. Aren’t you?” The question slips from your lips effortlessly, you’re not naïve. You’ve noticed the absence of police presence; the way Dave hasn’t so much as called anything in since you left the bar. None of it was above board, you just know it.

“Yes,” he says, his face hardening a little as he meets your gaze, “This isn’t something that will go away if he’s put behind bars.”

“Then finish it.”

Dave’s eyes go wide at the conviction in your voice, but whatever he’s about to say in response is cut off by the furious buzzing of his cell in his pocket. He answers it with a snarl.

“Kovac, I’m coming, let yourself in,” he barks down the phone before ending the call.

Silently he eases himself onto his feet, a groan escapes him as one of his knees makes a nauseating pop. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it, letting him pull you up onto your feet.

“You have to stay down here, no matter what, ok?” Dave says as he looks over his shoulder at the basement stairs.

“What about-,” you begin to protest, you’ve got nothing of value on you, no laptop, no clothes.

“Ari, one of my other guys,” Dave interrupts, “Has a go bag for you, he’ll drop it off with your laptop and other essentials later this afternoon. Take anything you need from my drawers, use the bathroom, whatever you need, it’s yours.”

You bristle a little at the way you feel like you’re being handled, but you realise that’s exactly what’s happening. You’re an asset to be protected, there’s a very real danger out there wishing you harm.

“I’ll check in regularly, and Kovac will do anything for you, I mean it. I trust most of my men with my own life, but I wouldn’t trust anyone but Kovac to protect you.”

“Fine,” you say, trying to quash the petulance bubbling beneath the surface, “But Dave?”

“What?”

“Come back to me.”

It’s not a request, he knows it too well, but he pulls you against his chest, holding you tight.

“Nothing on this earth will stop me coming back to you,” he breathes as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you say as you bury your face in his chest before reluctantly easing out of his embrace as you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs. You look up to see the same hulking man who fitted your security alarm.

“Dave, that’s-?”

“I told you,” he says with a sly smile, “I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe.”

You look to Kovac, and he shrugs, his face set in a smug smile as he and Dave give each other a nod of acknowledgment. Your heart flutters at the interaction, a weight lifting from your shoulders as you realise the extent of Dave’s commitment to keeping you safe.

~*~

A few hours later, Kovac answers the door as you’re sat on the L-shaped sofa in the basement. A rerun of ‘Parks and Rec’ is playing on the TV but you’re not really watching, until Duke Silver appears on screen, and you can’t help but smile.

There’s a poisoned irony at the way your group chat with Ash and Pete keeps blowing up, asking you if you’d gone home with the DILF at the bar. But you’re too dazed to care, you’ve muted the chat now, instead staring into the middle distance as you try and bring yourself back to the present.  

“Hey,” Kovac’s low rumble startles you as he rounds the sofa with a duffel bag on one arm, a plastic bag filled with takeout containers in his other hand, “Ari brought your laptop and some other stuff, Dave ordered takeout and some beer.”

“Thanks,” you say with a weak smile, “I’ll sort the bag later, just dump it on the sofa.”

“Sure,” Kovac does as he’s told, dropping the bag gently on the sofa cushion before setting the plastic bag on the coffee table. He goes to leave straight away, and you stop him.

“There’s way too much food here. Do you want to join me?”

Kovac hesitates for a moment before shrugging and taking a seat on the floor opposite you. You smirk at the gesture but don’t say anything as you start to unbox the food and Kovac pops a beer and offers it to you. The two of you eat in silence for some time.

“So, you and Dave,” you say, curiosity getting the better of you, “How’d you two meet?”

Kovac chews slowly for a moment, as if contemplating how much he can actually say.

“Marines,” he says as he takes a swig of beer, “Served with him from start to finish, good man.”

“He is,” you say absently as you watch the credits roll for the episode and you immediately skip to the next one, “Thanks for staying and eating with me,” you say as you drain the last of your beer, “I appreciate it.”

Kovac shrugs and continues eating without missing a beat as he eyes you up and down.

“It won’t be long before you’re out of here,” he says as he gestures around the basement with his free hand, “Dave doesn’t fuck around when it comes to people he cares about.”

The statement, no matter how crude, has your chest constricting with joy. Of course, you want to believe that Dave cares about you – that he loves you – but to hear it from Kovac is vindicating. It makes everything feel a little more real.

“I don’t doubt it,” you say as neutrally as possible as your lips curve up into a smile.

You sit in silence for the rest of the meal until Kovac excuses himself, taking the dirty dishes and takeaway containers upstairs. He refuses to let you help, assuring you it’s safer if you stay in the basement.

You’re suddenly very tired, the events of the day catching up to you finally. You give your armpits a tentative sniff and grimace at the smell. You haul yourself up from the sofa and shower.

By the time you’re showered and dressed in a pair of Dave’s sweatpants and one of his hoodies, Kovac is back. He sits on the sofa, watching you re-enter with an unreadable look on his face.

“Sit,” he says as you approach the opposite end of the sofa to him. There’s an object on the coffee table, covered in a cloth and you realise immediately what it is.

“Is there a reason you’re looming menacingly over a gun?” You ask, trying to ease the tension in your gut with a bit of levity.

“Dave asked me to give it to you,” Kovac says bluntly, “You know how to use it?”

He unfolds the cloth to reveal a silver Colt 1911 and you nod slowly, already reaching for the pistol.

“I grew up in Texas,” you say with a shrug as you inspect the utilitarian firearm, “I’ve handled bigger and meaner guns than this in my time.”

“Good,” Kovac nods, “Have you ever shot someone?”

The question throws you a little and you slowly shake your head.

“I’ve never had to.” You say.

“I hope that doesn’t change,” Kovac says solemnly, and you look up to see a flash of emotion in his blue eyes, something like remorse, “But if you need to, don’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

You eject the magazine and pull back the slider to expose the breech. You nod slowly to yourself, the whole process something second-nature to you normally. The threat looming over you makes everything feel surreal, disjointed.

“I promise,” you say as you depress the slide release and re-insert the magazine before flicking the safety on, “Thank you.”

Kovac simply nods, seemingly happy with your reaction before he stands and makes his way to the stairs.

“I’m going to keep watch upstairs, I hope you get some rest,” he says without turning before ascending the stairs.

“Night,” you call after him absently as you turn back to the television. Parks and Rec is still playing but you aren’t in the mood to mindlessly watch TV. You turn it off and head into Dave’s bedroom.

You place the gun on the nightstand, the cold thud of the metal on the wood surface loud in your ears. You slide under the sheets, and for a brief moment you’re lost in the familiar scent of Dave. The fresh, spiced smell of his body wash and the unique musk of simply him envelop you as you burrow into the sheets. Your eyes flutter closed, and you let out a soft sigh as you try and relax.

It could have been seconds, or hours since you closed your eyes when suddenly you’re jolted awake by the harsh blaring of an alarm. You check your phone, but the device lies silent, the display lights up as you move it, it’s just gone 4am.

You blink away the sleep as you see Dave’s desktop PC screens flashing violently, red and white as an emergency alarm blares through his speakers. Your stomach drops as the CCTV feed pops up in a new window.

There, on the doorstep – gun in hand – is the man from the bar, smiling up into the camera lens.

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Main Masterlist

AO3

Follow @vi-notifs and consider buying me a coffee if you enjoy my work!

#The Princess and The Duke #TPATD #Dave York Fanfiction #Equalizer 2 #The Equalizer #reader insert #x reader #Dave York fic #Dave York fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fic #Dave York x Reader #Dave York x OC #Dave York x OFC #Dave York Apologist #Dave York did nothing wrong #Dave York Pit #pedro pascal #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #dave york #theywhowriteandknowthings #vi writes

[popcornforone]

Wholehearted Attention

A Dave York Fan Fic

Stabby it’s been to long. I’ve missed writing Dave & I have lots of ideas for him in draft. But then someone sent me this photo & the idea formed itself & here we are… yep a Dave York Saturday is needed by all for some relief.

Synopsis:- You have had a stressful day at work & are having some me time in the bath, when Dave gets home & he is happy to encourage you.

Word Count:-3700

Warnings:- ALL OF THEM!!! seriously DONOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral both, mentions of piv, establish relationships, smut, swearing, cum tasting, squirting, drinking, shower sex, mentions of erotic literature, self pleasure, toys. Yea we are full on talking Dave at his Davest. Daddy is used.

God I’m so happy I wrote this & that Dave gets all of this.

Thanks for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome. I hope you enjoy.

“Thank fuck” you sigh as you walk through the door. The most hellish day of work is over. Presentations just kept coming at meetings. Phone calls & emails never stopped. You are glad to be kicking those heels off. You need a calm night a really calming night. You don’t know if your partners going to be home at all tonight, his work means his returns can be a little bit all over the place.

You know what you need. Your parents would scoff but you don’t care. You pour a large glass of wine & light a couple of candles as the bubble bath starts to fill up. Jasmine & cherry blossom. The same fragrance as your perfume which this year they made into bath products too. You also click the radio on to listen to some smooth rnb music as you undress & step into the tub. Nice & hot & ready for you to have a long soak. You when you have these moments of calm, always bring a small table with you, to put the wine, a small towel, your phone & a book on. The book is one of the items your parents would disapprove of. It’s called The Captains Desire. It’s pure smut. Men can watch porn all they want but women, as well as that, get to read & imagine it. You know you are up to the part where it’s about to get very hot. So this time you’ve also brought your bullet vibrator with you just to stimulate yourself enough. But before you enjoy your wine & read you make sure to wash yourself while the water is still warm. Steam comes off you as well as the tub.

15mins into your bath & You are lick your lips as you read, getting lost in the pages. It’s hot. It’s at the point where you want to enjoy it & so you slowly put your glass of wine down & grab the vibrator. No lube needed your in a hot steamy bath & you click onto button 1. You gasp as the vibrations start against your clit & you turn the page ready to see how the captain will respond to the tease in the book. But then the worst thing happens. As you select the second pulse setting your vibrator dies.

“What no!” You put your book down quickly & grab the towel to dry it off. You click again to start it up & it goes for 10 seconds before stopping again. You even try swapping the betteries round (down worry your hands are dry your aren’t stupid) but to no avail. “Fuck”

You say as you slam the toy down on the towel. It hadn’t even got you started. You sink completely under the bubbles & water & close your eyes for a minute. Trying to calm down. You know you need to come up for air soon, but your left hand has started to pleasure yourself underneath the suds. Your clit is so needy. You slowly push yourself up out of the water, eyes still closed & reach for the towel on the side.

It’s not there.

You start to panic.

You’ve got soap in your eyes & you don’t want it to sting. But before you can thrash around in the tub you feel the small towel Grace across your face. Your grip it & give yourself a proper dry before opening your eyes.

Your partner is home. He’s in a light blue shirt & black trousers, with a silver buckled belt. He’s home & he’s looking at you in awe.

“I’m home sweetheart”

“Dave” you lift your head a bit more & he leans his head down to softly kiss you. Your wet hand cups his face as he starts to breathe heavily. However you can already tell he’s not up for getting in the bath with you, well not yet anyhow. He’s not wearing a tie, he likes to be pulled by it from time to time with you just to give you some control.

“Having a relaxing evening”

“Very until my bullet stopped”

“Naughty, touching yourself without me” he mocks. Dave likes complete control, even over your self pleasure.

“Well you read that book & tell me if it’s not sexy” you roll your eyes at him, put the towel down now, your face is soap & bubble free & sip on your wine. Dave raises an eyebrow.

“Is this like 50 shades?”

“Ha” you scoff. “They wish they had written anything like this. This isn’t a romance this is desire & let’s just say that one of the book reviews for it online someone said they actually couldn’t recharge their dildo enough” Dave scoff at you.

“The captains desire” he reads before reading the blurb. “Captain Flores is on a survival mission that goes wrong & he is left with just his lookout Emilia Rutton, a woman who swore men off 6 years ago. But survival will mean much more than just getting out of this war zone alive. Hmmm doesn’t sound that smutty to me”

You sigh & look at Dave.

“Then read some to me”

“What?

“Read the next couple of pages to me & let’s see how it makes you feel” you’re still sipping on your wine.

“I’m not reading that” Dave put the book down.

“Why not? Are you afraid the Captain Flores is better at seducing than you?” Dave gives you a face like thunder. No one’s ever challenged his powers of seduction. You know he’s sometimes on mission where he needs to flirt kiss or sleep for information or for the kill. You’ve learnt to accept that over the last couple of years. You also know he’s cut back on doing that a lot since he was able to fill your cunt on tap.

“Didn’t you fall into my arms at that club?” He starts to clear the small table items off it putting them on the bathroom counter.

“True but if you’d not said you have a sour cocktail because you probably are just so sweet I’d have never sucked you cock in the disabled toilet that night”

“Ahhh memories, we should go out & do that again”

“Dave were banned” you both laugh.

“True but it was worth it”

Dave then sits on the cleared table at the end of the bath & takes the glass of wine from your hand. You rest your arms on the end on the bath lying on your front. As you turned Dave saw your arse come out of the water for a few seconds. He also loves that your head is directly in line with his crutch, so Dave man spreads as he sits on the little table & strokes your face.

“I’m going to read a page at random, okay? let’s see how it goes” he says. Your eyes light up. You know that even if there is no sex in a chapter it’s full of sexual tension from chapter 4 onwards of imaginary scenarios.

“Ahem” Dave clears his voice & randomly opens a page. You lick your lips hoping for him to read something dirty.

“Flores… she moaned begging for more. Feeling the way he licked her pussy dry… wooo” have slams the book shut but keeps a finger in that page.

“Problem Dave?” You ask like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth, all innocently.

“Thought you said this was smut, I’ve just read the next line. This is worse than some hardcore porn”

“Dave”

“I’m serious” he shakes his head. “& yet you can just casually sit in a bus with this in your hand & imagine all of that” you nod. “Damn women are built different.”

“Keep reading Dave im sure when you get to the captain you’ll sound so suave” Dave pulls a face at you.

“Okay” he slowly opens the book back up & you can see him try to see what’s coming next.

“Don’t spoil it for yourself Dave” you chuckle & smack his knee.

“Just wanted to see that’s all.” & he spreads his legs a bit more continuing to read. “Emilia knew it wouldn’t be long before she squirted covering the captains mustache. His left hand was fisting her arse as they lay on the hut bed. The broken mirror on the floor meant Emilia could see the captains angle. How he adored her. How his face was glistening each lick of her clit, each motion of her arse pucking had her moaning his name like this was the last time she’d ever be fucked. Her naked body still damp from being caught in the rain…” you are feeling aroused & you suddenly realise Dave is too. He can’t spread his legs anymore than that but there is a much larger bulge in his trousers than usual. Hes palming it as he reads. “… rain that they may have to shower in afterwards. Both of them are thinking this. There are few facilities in this shack. Both Flores & Emilia have wondered how good their naked body’s would work if they grabbed the soap, to clean each other only to just get dirty again…” his hand undoes his belt & the top button of his trousers just to stop his growing erection splitting the trousers. “Emilias body rolled feeling every sensation, not worried anymore if she’d suffocate the captain, although she was concerned as she now knew she could squirt that she might down him… oooh fuck” Dave’s hands tremble almost making him drop the book. You’ve slowly leaned forward unzipped his fly & started stroking his penis. “Oooh baby”

“Don’t think that was in that chapter Dave” you say long firm strokes get him fully erect in a few seconds.

“Who gives a fuck about a book, when I can have the real thing” he stands up & drops his trousers & boxers to the floor & strokes his own penis.”you now have my whole hearted attention” he slides the table forward, puts the book on the floor & strokes his angry head against you lips. “Do you want to make your daddy happy?” You nod & start to lick around the angry purple head of his penis now he’s sat back down. The pre cum is salty & tangy.

“Ooh sweetheart” his hips already bolting. “No wonder you take long baths if you read that kind of stuff” he caresses your face as you start to slurp taking him into your mouth further. The grip on your chin is firm but you know it will get harder. He fills your mouth. Saliva coating his length. Your eyes wide each time he hits the back of your throat. He’s on the edge of the table now because he wants to be ever further down your throat. The noises you are making are forcing Dave to concertrate, he doesn’t want to cum in the first few minutes, but the feel of your plump lips engulfing him make his eyes roll back. His grip on your chin gradually getting tighter.

“You like making daddy happy, fuck baby, your mouth was made for my cock, fuck.” He’s growling. He briefly lets go of your chin to remove his blue shirt so he is also naked before both his hands return to your head one on the chin & one runs it’s way through your hair before he encourages more movement, more bobbing, because he wants to see you as a spluttering mess when he ejaculates.

“You gonna swallow it all when the time comes, sweetheart? Is my good little girl gonna make me happy? Bet your soaked even without being in the bath” he whines as he holds your chin in place. You nod & he pushes down harder. One hand of yours helping his penis as you choke around it. The other has your fingers digging into your thigh. He’s panting hard, his moans echo around the bathroom. The feel of his length inside your mouth & the way your suck & twirl your talented tongue, has him struggling to hold on.

“Fuck baby, ooh shit oooohhhh mmmmmm shit fuck more more I can’t I… I… oooh jesus!” Dave screams your name. His ball almost burst. Your mouth spills his seed as it flows into your mouth & it doesn’t stop. Often Dave will trickle & then will give you some more when he fucks you in which ever position he likes that night. But no, your gagging & you swallow some as you remove his penis from your mouth. His cum escapes as he sits back & let’s go if your head.

“Fuck oooh fuck” he pants as he try’s to calm down, he’s still hard so you grip him again & slowly start licking off his cum & your spit from his length, you chin getting even more covered in the residue. “Well sweetheart you do have the magic touch.” He smirks as you let his cock go from your mouth as is starts to soften with a pop. “You did miss a spot” Dave says. You know you have, you can feel it on your face. His salty seed & your saliva. You take your thumb & push it back into your mouth.

“Tastes like heaven Dave” you moan & lean your head over the edge of the bath once you are done. Dave thinks your going into for a kiss but you aren’t. He’s a little perturbed when you move your head back, but then his eyes widen. You blow a spit Bubble & then gulp it down to create another one.

“Oooh my little slut you have all my attention” you both know his cum is mixed in with your spit as you keep regurgitating the bubble. The 5th time, it’s large & sloppy & you let it pop so your lips are covered by the moisture. You’ve never seen Dave move in for a kiss so quickly in your life. His tongue & yours working together, tasting the tangy mess your collective bodily fluids have made. No romance novel would ever cover this moment. He’s hungry for you despite you satisfying him.

“Want more Dave?” You mumble eventually as your lips break.

“Just a taste sweetheart, just a taste” both his arm go underneath you & with his magnificent strength he hoists your naked dripping body out of the bath so you glisten in front of him. He licks his lips & he cups your left breast. “We don’t want you wrinkling sweetheart do we, not while daddy is ravenous” he raises an eye brow before smacking your bum. Your little squawk has him all excited, as he then takes a few steps back & lays on the floor.

You know what he wants, & he expects you to know. His crutch & penis are so inviting to ride on but Dave wants you to take pride of place on your favourite seat. You’re still standing & walking up the side of him. You’ve not towelled off. You’re still dripping but that’s what he likes. If Dave had his way, he’d have you as a stay at home partner walking around in just the matching underwear he buys you so then he can shred it from your body when he needs a release & he can fuck your body until you physically can’t cum anymore. Dave is that man & damn you’ll play the needy bratty slut for him on command. You secretly enjoy it more than you let off but it does also stop Dave’s eyes wandering else where.

“How much of a taste would you like daddy?” You say as you stand across him. He’s looking up. He could try & make eye contact but he’s really looking straight up your legs, & past your thighs to see what your index finger is doing to your clit already. He’s not sure if it’s your arousal or bath water that’s dripping onto his face. He doesn’t give a fuck. You want this too.

“I want it all, I want you to forget your name & give me a facial” his hands are running up your lower legs, stopping just below your knees. He knows your ticklish behind them but he stops as you lower yourself slowly ready to sit on Dave’s face.

“Say please daddy”

“Oooh no sweetheart, you should be the one asking for it” those two firm hands pull you straight over his head & he sniffs at your sex. “Oooh fuck baby,” & he licks his first stripe over your clit.

“Mmm yeaa” you moan back. He’s going in circles around it. His tongue is even more magnificent than yours.

“Ddd…Dave” your whingeing already. Dripping onto his lips feeling every motion.

“On all fours” you hear as Dave grips your arse.

“Hmmm” Dave spanks your bum.

“All fours sweetheart, I know what you like.”

“What do you…. Ahhh” Dave swats your bum again meaning you jolt forward. He moves his head to the side so you can see him speak to reveal something you thought he didn’t know.

“I’ve seen you, using that wand on all fours, a pillow between your legs to hump so you can feel the friction. I know it gets you off. I’ve heard you scream my name as you do it” you blush the deepest shade of red. How does Dave know this? & yet the idea of him spying on you arouses you even more. “I want you to face fuck me”

“Dave.. I…” a firm smack connects with your arse. You moan, arousal drips onto his neck.

“It’s not a requested, Daddy said he wanted to give you his whole hearted attention.” His fingers dig into your bum & start to move you in place.

You get on all fours & the tip of his nose rubs against your clit as he squeezes you down onto his face. Both his hands gripping just bellow your arse cheeks as you moan.

“Fuck Dave… oooh god” his oral onslaught starts. “Mmmm oooh yess yess” your hesitant at first., you don’t want to suffocate him underneath you, your looking up at the bathroom sink, your feet starting to twitch in pleasure. It’s only a few more seconds before you start to move. Your hips rolling. The anti-clockwise motion pushing onto his face. He laps away at your cunt. Suddenly your no longer worried & you start to move like you do when your on top for missionary or when you have your own time & his pillow between your legs.

“Ooooohhh yes yes yes.” You moan as your body jiggles & Dave sticks his thumb inside your arsehole. “Yea baby yea, I like that fuck ooooh yes yes yes” you can’t control your moans. Your body twitches as your cunt gets devoured by the best oral lover(or any sexual lover for that matter) that you’ve ever had in your life. He looks after you & the way his hand is now caressing your cheeks, while the other now has another finger in your arse has you screaming loudly.

“Fuck daddy yes fuck fuck you gonna make me cum you gonna make me squirt, oooh baby more more more more oooh fuck yes.” You convulse & feel everything explode inside you. With an earthy groan you climax & cover his face, drenching him. You hear him splutter a little as your body slows down, but then as you go to give him air he keeps you in place, lepping every single drop that you just squirted all over him. “Oh fuck yes that’s it” his head is fully locked between your twitching thighs as you calm down.

“Good girl” you hear from between your legs. A softer pat of your arse happens & he helps you crawl off him onto the bathroom floor. You rest your head next to his as you both lie there exhaling for air for different reasons. You turn your head & see his glistening face & he laughs.

“I made a mess”

“That you did” it’s a delicious kiss he gives you as you lean in. You can taste your own saltyness on his lips & skin. You slowly start to caress his body, working your way down to his happy trail & eventually start stroking his once again hard penis. Pre cum dripping from the tip as he cups your breasts. This is no longer a soft kiss, your making out on the bathroom floor. Dave’s moaning more than you are as you both sit up & he pulls your body in close, he can feel your heart race. Each thud making him want you more. He slips a finger inside your cunt just to keep you moist for the next part of the evening.

“I think we need to clean this up sweetheart.” He says eventually his lips leaving yours but his index finger shhing you before you can say a word. “Didn’t your book talk about those two having a shower & exploring each others bodies after an adventure?”

“Yes Dave it did”

“Well let’s get dirty while getting clean, because you face fucking me is the greatest adventure of my day” Dave slowly stands up & helps you up off the floor slapping your arse once more. “I mean I once was an army captain, maybe in should make you call me that instead of daddy?”

“Don’t tempt me captain,” you reply as you both step into the shower. “I might need to be punished for breaking your rules” steam fills the walk in shower as the hot water flows & Dave pushes you against the glass as the spray hits you both.

“Well if good girls are gonna read smut, they are going to get all they deserve” Dave growls eyes filled with desire. As his lips find yours for a hungry kiss you gasp, he’s filled you to the brim, your special spot quivering I’m just the one motion. “But my girl, she likes to make me happy” he says before his rhythm picks up not just in the shower, but in bed afterwards for the next 2 days.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #over18 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal universe #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fandom #dave york f reader #dave york fan fiction #dave york fanfic #dave york fic #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #dave york x f!reader #dave york #dave york pit #equilizer 2

[morallyinept]

A list of all my favourite DAVE YORK Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Desperation - @theywhowriteandknowthings

Dollhouse, Broken Sleep & Wonderful Tonight Featuring Frankie Morales - @psychedelic-ink

Bound For Carnage Series - @psychedelic-ink

Scotch & Cherry - @ghostfanwriter Tutor!Reader

I Can Barely Breathe, True North & Anchor - @yespolkadotkitty

My Girl Featuring Frankie Morales, Your Taste I Crave, Sharpshooter, Kinktober 22 Lactation & After Hours - @foli-vora

Just A Piece - @palioom

The Cabin In The Woods Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 - @xdaddysprincessxx Dark!Dead Dove

Dave York Masterlist - @absurdthirst So many good ones on there!

Isn't She A Doll? - @proxima-writes

Three Days - @massivedreamer CartelBossF!Reader

Revenge, Stupid Little Heart & Drabble 1 - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Amarum & A Healing Touch - @juletheghoul

Red & Unholy Series - @alwaysdjarin

Summer Schooled Series Featuring Joel Miller, You Say Hate But I Think You Mean The Other Thing Series & Dave Masterlist - @boliv-jenta

My Best Friend's Dad Series & Dave York Masterlist - @whiskeynwriting

The Senator's Daughter Series - @detectivecarisi-1 Bodyguard!Dave

The Secrets We Keep - @wildemaven

The Violence Of You, Dark!Dave Ropes, Reckless, Pitch Black Series Blind!OFC, Stay With Me, Intimidation Tactics Series Featuring Marcus Pike & Special Virgin!Reader - @whataperfectwasteoftime

A Valentine's In Reverse - @littlebirdsbookshelf

1k Smut Sensation Thigh Riding - @thetriumphantpanda

Antagonists - @getitoutofmymindwrites

Thirteen Days Series - @josephquinnswhore

Two For One - @suzdin Featuring Max Phillips

Drown In Your Wrath & Fury & You Made Me A Villain - @movievillainess721

Appreciation Series F!Nanny Reader, The Storm, Religious Corruption Series Virgin!Reader, Silent, This Is Me Trying Series Surgeon!Dave, & A Little Taste - @pedropascalsx

The Good, The Bad & The Naughty, Attending Mr York Series, One Week With Dave York Series, & Cherry Kisses - @popcornforone

Precious Possessions Series - @exquisiteserotonin

Emptiness - @deadhumourist SoftDom!Dave

Desires & Complications Series - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Marcus Pike

Notes On Tutoring Series - @honestly-shite Music College AU

Assistance - @adancedivasmom

Mine - @theewokingdead F!NannyReader

Needs & Wants - @thefloorisbalaclava

Interrogation - @secretwriterpp Dark/Violence Featuring Frankie Morales

Yours, Rulebreaker, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) & Temptation - @wheresarizona

Eres Mia Series - @loslentesdepedrito Featuring Marcus Pike

Kinktober Day 4 Breath Play - @moralesispunk

Satisfy Me - @whiskeyncoke-redux

Desired Punishment Series Dark!Dave & Office Rendezvous - @coastielaceispunk

Burnt Honey - @pedrito-friskito

Risk - @katareyoudrilling

Larks & Katydids - @kiwisbell AO3 Link

Daddy Dave Masterlist - @pintsizemama

Volatile - @javier-pena

Dave Request - @radiowallet

Façade - @furious-rogue-stuff

Killer Writing Series - @wardenparker

#pedro pascal characters #dave york #fic recs #dave york x f!reader #dave york the equalizer 2 #the equalizer 2 #dave york x reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character universe #dave york x you #dave york x female reader

[cinewhore]

Til Death Do Us Part

Pairing: Dave York x fem!reader (Mr & Mrs Smith AU) Rating: General Warnings: none? Word Count: 620 A/N: first thing I wrote in like a year. So do what you will with that. Was inspired by the new amazon series, go watch if you haven't already!! Will there be more? Maybe. Maybe not. Enjoy! Credits to the gif makers.

Dave forgot just how much he loathed flying. 

Not that he was afraid of heights or anything, it was a simple matter of not being in control. Should anything go to shit, there was nothing he could really do to stop it. You’re more likely to die in a car accident compared to a plane but if he was required to take down an enemy on a flight and things got choppy? He was useless. Unless he learned how to fly a plane. Surely, that wouldn’t be expected of him, would it? He wasn’t entirely positive about that. 

Dave glances out of the window once more, admiring the cloudless sky. It looked like he felt, bare. 

He had survived the accident, the fall and decided that instead of putting the girls and Carol through all that hell, he remained dead. They would receive his pension, life insurance and be set for life. That was the one thing he was proud of outside of everything else. He didn’t want to hurt or kill Mac but that was the name of the game. Mac was once his friend. He realized that this life wasn’t for making friends, though. The lonelier, the better. 

A stewardess arrives in the main cabin, rolling out a small beverage cart. 

“Good evening! We are about to begin our descent so I wanted to grant any last minute refreshment requests.” 

Dave admired her pretty teeth for a second too long before answering. “I’m fine, thank you.” 

She nods and turns to her cart to grab a tiny silver platter. Placing it delicately on the table in front of him, she folds her gloved hands together. 

“Thank you for flying with us this evening, we hoped you enjoyed your trip. The plane will land at approximately 6:37 pm, Central European Standard Time. You will find a wardrobe through those doors,” she gestures towards the back of the plane. “The event is a black tie affair, so please dress accordingly. Welcome to Paris, Mr. Smith.” 

Oh. 

Right.

He wasn’t Dave York anymore, he was now John Smith. 

John opens the silver platter carefully only to find a folded paper underneath. His instructions were clear. 

Find Jane.

#dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york fanfiction #Dave york fanfic #Dave york x fem!reader

[thetriumphantpanda]

omg hi congrats on 1k!!!!! you are SUCH a fantastic writer and i absolutely devour everything you write!! that being said i have a request for your celebration: dave york w some thigh riding, doggy style, voice kink/dirty talk and free use 👀 (lmk if this is too many things at once lol) ur the best!!!

Hey! Thank you so much! And thank you so much for being one of those 1K and for always supporting me! Now, I have to tell you, that I love the Suburban Murder Daddy as much as the next person, but I wasn't expecting to produce such FILTH with him.... so I hope you enjoy! I couldn't work in free use here but someone else has requested Dave with this so I'll get around to it!

Pairing | Dave York x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.6k

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. There's thigh-riding, doggy style, dirty talk/voice kink and because I can't be tamed, there's some infidelity kink in there for good measure.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

Dave knew the first time it happened that he shouldn’t want you, just like he knows now, on the fifteenth time that he shouldn’t, but that’s always what keeps him coming back to you. Not the vows he made to his wife, not his children waiting for him at home, not the life that he built from the ground up, no, none of that could ever keep him away. Not when you saunter through the office with skirts that hug your curves in all the right places, or when you lean over his shoulder to place papers on his desk, letting your scent wrap around him like a noose. He wants you, he thinks he’ll always want you, because he shouldn’t.

He's stood outside your apartment building now, anticipation growing wildly in his lower belly as he thinks about what he wants to do to you tonight. He hears the buzzer and then the soft sound of the door unlatching once you buzz him in. The first time he’d opted to fuck you somewhere that wasn’t the office, he was shocked that this was where you lived. One of the more expensive buildings in the city, are we paying her too much? Is what he thought as you led him through the maze of corridors, much like he’s doing on his own right now. 

You’re already leaning against the doorframe when he makes it to your door. You can’t have been home very long, but you’ve already taken your hair out of the tight bun you insist on wearing to work and kicked off your heels. He presses his whole body to yours in the doorway and kisses you. It was rule he’d tried to set the first few times, if he didn’t kiss you, I didn’t mean anything outside of getting to fuck someone in the way his wife wouldn’t let him. He lasted approximately three and a half meets with you before he was breaking his own rule, latching his lips to yours as he fucked you in the shower. 

“Evening, boss man,” You purred when he finally pulled away from him, taking hold of his wrist to drag him inside, letting the door close behind you both, “Drink?” You call over your shoulder as he steps into your familiar space. 

It’s small, one bedroom affair, with the kitchen and living room wrapped into one. Its cosy and homely and not at all what Dave had expected from you. You were so clean-cut in the office, a picture of monochrome outfits, clean lines and high heels. The fluffy, pale blue rug and infinite clutter was not something he’d expected, but that he’d come to actually enjoy on his frequent visits. 

“I’m okay,” He replies, coming up behind you to circle his arms around your waist, “Only came here to see you.” 

His hands are already working the buttons of your shirt open. He never fails to amaze you with his dextrous fingers, how he can open buttons without even seeing them. He drags the material that’s tucked into your skirt free, before the material is thrown to the floor without a second thought. Dave knows he’s strong, and never tires of the way you chuckle when he picks you up, just like he is now, walking you toward the couch. 

He's settling himself down, legs spread, before he’s dragging you down onto one his thighs, your clothes core resting on his suit trousers, whilst your knees dig into the cushions of the couch either side. 

“Saw you watching me in the office today,” He states, letting one of his hands tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling it back so he can latch his lips to your neck, “Thinking about me fucking you, weren’t you?” 

“Always,” You groan, letting your hips move so your cotton-covered pussy is dragging against his thigh, “Always think about how you fuck me.” 

“If I put my hands on your cunt, you’d be soaked for me, wouldn’t you?” 

Another grind of your hips along his thigh, “Do it, find out.” You challenge him. 

The hand in your hair grips firmer now, “Going to have to work harder than that for it, darling,” His lips have trailed up your neck to rest at your ear now, “Think you can get yourself off like this?” He asks, “Grinding that needy pussy on my thigh?” 

He always drives a hard bargain with you, always makes you work for what you want. Whether that’s on your knees worshipping his cock, or making you touch yourself whilst he watches. This man is filthy and dangerous, and you can never get enough. You let your hands rest on his broad shoulders for purchase before you sink down as far as you can, grinding your aching sex back and forth on his solid thigh. You can’t deny that the friction is delightful, paired with the assault of his teeth and tongue over your neck and the hand fisting your hair, but it’s just not enough. It won’t ever be enough until he touches you, really touches you.

“Can’t…” You mumble, “Not enough.” 

“Awww, poor baby,” He coos, any other man spoke to you like this you’d be likely to slap him, but with Dave, it just works, “Do you want me to help?” The way his voice is so calm, still so commanding when you can literally see the effect you’re having on him through the bulge in his trousers, is mesmerising as always. 

“Please,” You beg, “Need your fingers.” 

He’s pushing the material of your skirt further up form where it’s ridden to your mid-thigh, bunching it at your waist before he’s pushing the cotton of your underwear to the side, plunging his fingers through your folds to gather your slick before he’s drawing it up to your clit. 

“Filthy girl,” He moans into your ear, “Knew you’d be fucking soaked for me already.” 

You can’t speak, not now that you have his hot breath in your ear and his thumb on your clit. This man knows what he’s doing, you suppose it’s the reason he’s got three children. If you were married to him, you’d certainly never let him leave your bed. It must be his military background that means he takes you apart with precision. He’s hyper focused on you, and the tight circles on your clit have you crying out his name and clenching his thigh between yours as you come undone for him. 

“Hands and knees.” He’s demanding of you, giving you barely any time to recover from your orgasm. 

When you don’t immediately follow his instructions, he’s moving you himself. Your hands and knees planed on the cushions of the couch; underwear ripped down as far as your knees. You can hear him undoing his belt and the sound of his zipper, then a little shuffling as he pulls his own clothes off just enough to free his cock. 

Then, he’s pressing up behind you, cock slipping through your soaked folds as he positions himself properly. Then, he’s buried inside you in one single thrust. He never waits for you, never gives you that chance to properly get used to the size of him inside you, he knows you’ll always take it, so he’s already setting that bruising pace with you. His cock is brushing that sweet spot inside you that makes you sing, and the grunts and groans he lets out as your tight walls flutter around him are music to your ears. 

“Always so fucking tight for me baby,” He growls from behind you, voice barely audible above the obscene sound of his skin slapping against your own, “The best pussy I ever fucking had.” 

“God, I fucking love when you talk like that.” You moan, starting to shift back into his thrusts to meet him halfway. 

“Yeah?” He asks, folding himself over you so his front is pressed to your back, “Like it when I talk dirty to you?” 

You groan out as his left hand comes to rest on the arm of the couch, wedding band clearly glinting in the light of the room, you catch yourself looking at it and Dave, being ever observant, catches you. He’s still pounding his cock into you when his hand comes back to fist your hair, pulling your neck backwards. It arches your back and changes the angle of his cock inside you, hitting that spot on each thrust, all you can do is whine. 

“You like looking at it?” He growls above you, flexing his fingers so you know exactly what he’s talking about “Like being my dirty little mistress?” 

“I fucking love it,” You sob out from your lips, “Fuck, Dave, I’m gonna…” 

“Go on, come on my cock baby.” 

You do just that. Spots of white burst in your vision as you convulse, the walls of your tight heat clenching around him. He lets go of your hair, letting your head drop forward as his hips continue snapping into your ass with bruising force. The hand that isn’t propping him up so he can plough into you is gripping at your hip, squeezing your skin to the point of pain, but it’s all worth it when you feel him steady himself, with that final moan of your name he always lets out, his warm cum painting the walls of your cunt. 

He always waits for the guilt to build once he’s finished. Always waits for his gut to tell him he’s a piece of shit for fucking his office assistant, but he already knows. He’s been a piece of shit for a long time, he’s just adding this to the list of things that got him there. There is no guilt, only a kiss and a promise to see you again soon. 

#Dave York #Dave York smut #Dave York fic #Dave York fanfic #dave york fanfiction #dave york imagine #Pedro Pascal #Dave York x you #Dave York x reader #Dave York x female reader #Dave York x F!reader #PSSC #equalizer 2

[theewokingdead]

The Call - Dave York x f!Reader

Pairing: Divorced Dave York x f!Nanny Reader

Summary: Of all the people Dave expects to call him so close to midnight, you aren't top of the list. Nor did he ever expect that he'd be your first call when in trouble.

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating: General, but my blog is 18+ only

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Soft!Dave. Language. Mentions of divorce. Mentions of a mugging. Mentions of blood.

A/N: I thought I would try my hand at soft!Dave after going all in on murder daddy in my last fic. As always, thanks to @pedropascalsx for dragging me into the Dave pit.

The full moon shines through Dave’s bedroom window, casting motionless silhouettes of limbs and leaves in the room. He is tired, but sleep evades him, as it has nearly every night since Carol left. He stares up at the ceiling of the house he now hates, torturing himself with scenarios of what he could’ve done to prevent his family from fracturing. He tries to remember the last time he even bought her flowers – except for birthdays and anniversaries – and draws a blank.

It wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, a loud and insistent ring comes from the nightstand, echoing throughout the empty house.

Taking a deep breath, Dave closes his eyes and exhales loudly, wishing he could will the phone to stop ringing, not in the mood for whatever bullshit Susan wants to discuss at this hour. But it drones on, singing its happy little tune, and he knows if she’s calling so late, it must be important – at least to her. He’s disappointed enough people lately, so he has no choice but to answer.

“Yeah?” he grumbles into the phone, sounding barely awake. He rubs his eyelids with his index finger and thumb, drawing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose as he waits for a response. To his surprise, it’s not Susan’s voice that comes through the receiver, but yours.

“Mr. York…,” you croak, your voice cracking, tears clearly building in the back of your throat.

His eyes burst open. Brows furrowed, Dave pushes himself up in bed and speaks your name, confusion evident in his voice. Of all the people he’d expect to call him so close to midnight, you weren’t top of the list, especially since it is your week off – the girls with Carol. But he can sense something is wrong, hear it in your voice and the way your shuddered breathes come through the phone. His heart begins to race.

“I-I’m sorry,” you rasp. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, more than just a little concerned at this point. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I…I just… I need a ride home,” you respond, but he senses there’s something you’re not telling him. Had you been drinking? Did you overindulge and just need a ride? No, there was something else…“Can you please pick me up?”

“Where are you?” he immediately questions, jumping to his feet and grabbing his keys and wallet off the nightstand.

“I, um, I…” you stammer, your brain clearly scattered in different directions, leaving you unable to think clearly.

“I need you to think, sweetheart,” Dave calmly directs. “Look around. Where are you?”

“Clinton Street,” you finally respond, sounding certain of your response. “Clinton and North.”

Quincy Market, Dave immediately recognizes, moving fast down the stairs. It wasn’t a particularly bad part of the city, but with the clubs and bars bustling with activity, anything could happen.

“I’m on my way.”

It’s not long before you see a familiar black Impala swerve around the corner, engine roaring as it speeds down the street. Feeling some semblance of safety, you step out of the dark alcove where to sought refuge and into the light of the streetlamp.

When Dave sees you, confusion washing over him. You’re a mess, your skin blooming with bruises, face crusted with blood from a gash on your forehead that’s still trying to bleed, makeup running in black rivers down your cheeks. What the fuck happened? Who would do this to you?

Watching him pull up beside the curb in front of you, you pull your arms tightly across yourself, tears whimpering softly at the back of your throat as you fight to hold them back. His tires screech to a halt when he brakes, throwing the car in park and cutting the engine in one swift movement before jumping out and sprinting to you.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re bleeding,” he asserts, moving to assess the injury.

“It’s nothing,” you lie, jumping back and raising a hand to prevent him from touching you. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he replies sharply, not realizing that his fear was disguised as anger improperly directed toward you. “What the hell happened?”

You open your mouth to reply. Instead, you burst into tears, hysterically sobbing, before mumbling incoherent apologies in between explaining that you had been mugged on your way home from a night out. Your keys, your wallet, your false sense of security - everything but your phone and the clothes on your back - gone. You didn’t know what to do or who to call and you just want to go home. As you ramble on, you begin to make less and less sense, crying so hard that you can no longer talk and nearly start to hyperventilate, repeating, I want to go home.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dave says, stepping closer and gently cupping your face.

Instinctively, you reach up and clutch the front of his black hooded sweatshirt, fingers tanging in the soft fabric, trying to keep yourself grounded to reality while you sob your heart out.

“Breathe. Look at me, sweetheart.” You look up, big, beautiful brown eyes meeting you. He nods, giving you assurance. “Just breathe, okay? I know you’re scared, but everything is going to be alright. None of this was your fault.”

You nod, keeping your eyes locked on him while you try to catch your breath. His eyes are soft, filled with understanding and tenderness. He gently runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, as if trying to erase the tears, and you can’t help but melt into the warmth of his large hands.

Finally, you start to relax. You close your eyes, amazed at the sense of security and comfort that fills you. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face and gently clasps your arms instead, inviting goosebumps there.

“Now, tell me,” Dave finally speaks. “Who did this to you?”

You don’t know the man, but manage to rattle off all the details you remember: a vague description, the color of his clothes, where he came from, where he went.

“He’ll never hurt you again,” he promises you. “I’ll make sure of it. Okay?”

You nod once more. Though you wonder what he means by that, you leave the question hanging on your lips, afraid that if you try to speak, you’ll only break out in more tears.

After a moment of silence, he removes his hands from you, saying, “Let’s get you home.”

Your brows furrow. “I-I can’t”

“What do you mean?” he questions. It takes a second to dawn on him: your purse is gone. Everything is gone. “Oh, fuck. Your keys.”

Looking down at your feet, you scrape a shoe along the sidewalk. “Yeah…” You sigh, then look back up at him. “So, unless you can pick a lock…”

He huffs, then runs a hand across the bottom of his face. “I can call a locksmith.”

“It’s late, and it’ll cost a fortune,” you argue, not really wanting to wait around for someone to let you in to your apartment. “Besides, I-” You swallow, not wanting to finish your sentence, embarrassed by all of this, especially the almost-admission.

“What is it?”

Hanging your head, you lightly shake it, brushing off what you have to say. “It’s stupid, I know, but… well…. I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“That’s not stupid,” he responds, flashing you a reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t want to be alone right now either. It’s fine. You can come home with me.”

“No,” you decline, causing him to look at you confusedly. “I can’t impose.”

“You called me here at midnight but now you don’t want to impose?” he questions, his mouth hooking into a playful smile.

“I meant that I can’t impose more,” you correct, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you. “I know that circumstances have changed…” He’s referring to the fact that you’re no longer a permanent live-in nanny for the Yorks, not since the divorce, instead only working the weeks Dave has the girls. “But you’ll always have a place with me - with us.”

Your throat closes up and you tuck your chin, keeping your eyes on the ground so he can’t see how much his words are affecting you. He likely didn’t mean anything by it, but the slip up leaves you wondering whether your little crush on him is reciprocated.

No, that’s stupid, you concede. He’s only trying to help.

Eventually, you nod, accepting his offer, knowing you’re too tired - emotionally and physically – to argue.

The drive home is silent, Dave’s right hand clutching the steering wheel and his left elbow propped on the door, fingers rubbing across the skin above his upper lip. He watches the buildings and streetlights fly past, faster and faster until they blur into nothing, like the thoughts in his head. His thoughts race to you, to the reasons you would call him, to the thought of a man touching you and why it makes him see red, to the things he needs to do to ensure you will never be harmed by him again. His blood boils and heart breaks all at once.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, seeing your head resting against the passenger side window, eyes closed, your breathing even. Despite the bruises and cut on your face, you look beautiful. You don’t even have to try and you’re still gorgeous to him.

Fuck, he thinks, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. When the fuck did he develop a crush on you? Isn’t he too old for that sort of shit? He had his chance at love, at the picture-perfect family, and he blew it.

No, your wife blew it. “It” being her boss.

The rest of the drive home is a blur, and at last he pulls into the dark driveway of the dark home, illuminated by a single light on the front porch. He shuts off the engine then looks at you and studies your serene expression, grateful you could peace despite your hellish encounter. He hates that he has to disturb you, but he can’t let you sleep in the car.

“Hey,” Dave gently calls. The sound of his voice causes you to stir enough to shift, turning your head so that it’s no longer against the window and settling back into the seat as if you fully intend to continue sleeping there.

With a sigh, he gets out and moves to your side of the car then opens the door. Even with the sudden chill of the night air rushing inside, you don’t fully wake.

“I’m going to carry you inside, okay?” he informs you, carefully reaching across your body to unfasten your seatbelt. The simple "Mhm" you hum in response gives him some confidence that you won’t startle awake and attack him.

Carefully, Dave scoops you up from the passenger seat, your head rolling to his shoulder and arms wrapping around his neck as he picks you up. The fragrance of your perfume pervades his nostrils, which he deliberately inhales, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the scent. He tries to stop the small sigh of pleasure that escapes his lips as you snuggle into the crook of his neck, the touch of your hair a gentle caress on his skin. The contact wasn’t sexual, but it offered him something else entirely: comfort. Something he’s been missing for far too long.

Dave holds you close to him, looking down at the top of your head as you sleep. He doesn’t know why, but he’s warmed at the thought of you trusting him enough to fall asleep. Something bad could’ve happened to you tonight, and though he regrets he wasn’t there to prevent it, he’s grateful you called him, feeling a deep desire to protect you.

Despite his bad shoulder, Dave carries you upstairs to the bedroom with ease. He lays you gently on the bed, ensuring your head comfortably hits the pillow. As soon as he’s removed his arms from your body, you roll to your side, getting comfortable. He waits for you to settle, then bends over and carefully removes your shoes, the least he can do to help. After quietly placing them on the floor, he grabs a blanket folded at the foot of the bed and drapes it over you, covering your body up to your shoulders.

“I’m going to get something to clean you up. I’ll be right back. Promise.”

You nod against the pillow.

Grabbing a clean washcloth and a bandage from the linen closet, Dave disappears into the bathroom down the hall. Locking himself in the room, he pulls out his phone and finds Ari in the list of contacts, pushing to call. When the man on the other end answers, Dave simply states everything you had told him about your assaulter, leaving clear instructions to do whatever he has to do find who did this to you – and to ensure he’d never do it again.

After ending the call, he leans back against the vanity and folds one arm across his chest, the elbow of the other propped on it, pressing his phone thoughtfully against his lips. He is frightened by the fact he didn’t give second thought to killing a man just for harming you. In all his years - decades - behind the scope, he never once had to be the one to call the shot. He never had to wrestle with the ethical or moral dilemmas of who had to die and why. He only had to pull the trigger, cross the name off the list as a completed project, and move on.

You do what you have to do and move on.

But how is he supposed to separate himself from this? When he just signed a man’s death warrant instead of delivering it under someone else’s command? When it involves you? What would you even say if you were to find out? Would you be disgusted? Afraid? See him as a cold-blooded killer? Or would you offer the words he needs to hear?

You did what you had to.

“Fuck,” he exhales softly, pushing himself away from the vanity and placing his phone in his pocket.

Adding soap and water to the washcloth, he rings it out in the sink, then returns to the guest room. When he steps into the room, he seems to leave his worries at the door. He approaches the bed, sits on the edge, and watches you sleep, staring at your peaceful beauty. A warm smile spreads across his face, his heart swelling, gut engulfed with a yearning so deep it’s almost painful.

“Sweetheart…,” he whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. “Hey. I hate to wake you, but-”

“Then don’t,” you murmur groggily.

He chuckles. “Sounds like it’s too late.”

“Mmm,” you groan.

“Well, since you’re already awake, I may as well clean up that cut.”

You don’t protest, and he takes it as permission. He warns you that it might hurt a little, then slowly, carefully, applies the warm, wet cloth to your skin. The sting forces you to open your eyes. He murmurs an apology, and you allow him to dab at the dried blood until it exposes the ugly cut just below your hairline.

You look at up through your eyelashes, watching him as he works, the light from the hallway illuminating him like an angel. Your angel.

Your heart squeezes.

“Will I live, doc?” you question, breaking the silence.

The humor delighting him, as it always does, he responds with a chuckle low in his throat while applying the bandage to your wound. “It was a little touch-and-go there for a minute, but I think you’ll be fine.”

Satisfied with his work, at least for tonight, he stops fussing with your face. He looks down at you, and your eyes meet. They were tired and heavy with dark circles underneath, yet there was still a sparkle and shine to them.

Fuck, you’re perfect.

“Get some rest,” he says while rising to his feet, tearing himself away from you. “You can shower in the morning.”

“Subtle way to tell me I stink,” you grumble.

Dave laughs, knowing that wasn’t his meaning at all. “Get some rest.”

Nodding, your lids come down over your eyes once more, too heavy to keep open any longer.

As if by instinct, Dave bends down and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lingers for a moment, relishing in the warmth of your skin on his lips and the scent of your shampoo in his nose. After pulling away, he sees a soft smile splayed on your face, telling him that his gesture was well-received. Still, as he walks away, hand soothing a tight muscle in his neck, he can’t help but feel like he crossed a line.

Shit.

“Dave…,” you quietly call before he can reach the door, your voice sweet yet sad.

He stops in his tracks, realizing it was the first time you had ever spoken his first name, and fuck, it sounded so good coming from your lips. Placing a hand on his hip, he slowly turns toward you.

“Yeah? What, uh-” He swallows, hoping you don’t realize that something so simple is affecting him so much. “What is it?”

“Stay with me tonight? Please?” you plead, the longing in your voice unmistakable.

Dave isn’t one to turn mushy at much of anything these days, but you asking him to stay makes him melt. He can barely remember a time when Carol made him melt like this.

There’s a whole list of reasons he should say no, should gently decline and retreat into his pit of despair…

But it is too damn tempting to stay.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.”

With your head softly nuzzling his chest as he holds you, he gets the best sleep he’s had in months.

#dave york #pedro pascal #dave york x you #dave york x reader #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fluff #fluff #dave york fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #dave york fic #equalizer #pedrostories #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[creedslove]

DAVE YORK AND YOUR PREGNANCY - HEADCANONS

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: hi besties! I'm glad to see you all coming down to ask box to talk about Dave because honestly, I think the world needs to recognize more of murder daddy and our Dave York apologists™ community needs to grow! Also, I sort of kept this headcanon here in my mind and I've also had a bug craving of female rivalry with our favorite person to hate: Carol, hehehe enjoy 😉

• it's not a secret to anyone the whole reason why Dave married Carol was because she got pregnant in the first place; they didn't love each other that much, but their relationship wasn't all bad, so when she showed up knocked up it was only the logical step to jump into marriage

• and it was already in the early stages of the pregnancy, Dave noticed the task wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would, or more like it, it would be as easy to be around Carol as he thought it would. Quite the opposite, she managed to show her true colors as soon as it finally sank in she was indeed pregnant

• their relationship wasn't the best thing that'd ever happened to either of them, but at least they had an active social life, had a decent sexual life and other stuff going on, things weren't always miserable, but whatever kind of bond that could exist between them was suddenly gone, as she did everything in her power to keep Dave away from her

• first of all, all she would complain was about being nauseous, which is common for pregnant women Dave knew, he wasn't a man cave after all, although it started to annoy the hell outta him the fact she claimed to feel sick at the smell of his perfume, his aftershave, his shampoo, his clothes and eventually himself

• and then, it started with the fact that whenever he put his hands on her, she couldn't even hide his grossed out she was; she simply didn't want to feel him, she didn't want him cooking her food and whenever she had an outburst for gaining weight or looking bigger, she would cry, scream, accuse and pick fights blaming it on him for making her body

• and as the pregnancy progressed, so did this situation, it was so stressful and annoying, the way she would just waste money on things, complaining about cute, heartfelt presents she got because she said her baby didn't need anything given to them, she also complained about whatever Dave bought, it was never correct: it was either too pink or not pink enough and so on

• by the time their daughter was born, Dave was already exhausted, and even if he loved her with all his heart, it wasn't what he expected from fatherhood, deep down he feared she would be just like her mom one day - sad news, she turned out exactly like Carol

• and Dave carried on his marriage without the same flame, he was disappointed in the person he married, and when his second girl came along, the experience wasn't any better, but there wasn't anything he couldn't do about it

• so when Dave got divorced and married you, things were so different, he enjoyed how light and gentle your marriage truly was; he loved the good dynamics you both had; how caring and affectionate you were towards each other, how fun days were without a heavy routine, just doing as you pleased and spending time with each other

• things were so good between the two of you, and as Dave finally learned how to sort of balance the distance from his daughters - you still found him in his office staring at pictures of them as toddlers during special holidays at the same time he sighed whenever he tried calling or texting them and was completely ignored it just replied with dry, annoyed texts, was when you found out you were pregnant

• Dave was a mix of feelings, he knew it was a possibility, after all you two weren't so careful with preventing it, but he couldn't help feeling his heart drop, just to imagine he would lose that close side of your relationship because of his experiences as a father and he was so scared about resenting his baby over it, as much as he tried reminding himself he wasn't like his mother at all

• so when you came to him and told about your suspicions, he was supportive, but you could tell he was holding himself back, and knowing about his marriage background and the real drama he often went on with Molly and Alice, you could have a good picture of how complicated things were

• so he drove you to the drugstore, he bought tests next to you and he waited by your side until you got the results - positive, of course - the next day, he drove you to the clinic and waited as you went through every single exam that could attest if you were indeed expecting

• and as much as he held you, kissed you and showed happiness, you still saw something was off, deep in down, Dave's biggest fear was that he was going to lose you to the baby, because Carol wasn't a great partner but whatever he had with her, was gone, and he couldn't face the same happening between the two of you

• you then, gave him some time and space, knowing he had a mission coming in the next few days, you really thought of asking him not to go, but you knew you couldn't actually do it, so you just wished him a nice and safe trip and reminded him how much you loved him

• and once Dave came back was when he realized that perhaps things weren't going to be lost between the two of you, because yeah, he called every single day to check up on you and the baby, and he knew you'd started your nausea/hunger/sleepy phase so he figured once he got home, you would star drifting apart from him

• but much to his surprise, you didn't, quite the opposite: you practically jumped on him, because you wanted to hug and hold Dave in your arms, you wanted to feel his warmth and weight, and god, his scent simply drove you insane with desire and satisfaction

• you complimented his cologne, his shampoo, the scent of his clothes, soap, you name it... you just loved everything and you loved burying your face into his neck and sniffing him

• his pancakes were also to die for: it didn't matter if he made them sweet or tried different salty recipes, if it was breakfast or just breakfast for dinner, you loved spending time with him and appreciating his food, and you also thanked him for adding fruits and many other healthy things into your diet

• your sex life also improved, with differences of course, mostly, Dave wouldn't be so rough, he was more romantic and soft towards you and there was no stress: you wanted him as much as he wanted you, the hormones, the passion, the romance was all in synch and even if you eventually got a little insecure about your body changes, there weren't cries, arguments, all it took the two of you was just some reassurance from Dave's side, the way he would sometimes hold you in front of a mirror and grab your lotion and spread all over your skin, or how he would nuzzled your neck and whisper into your ear how sexy you were becoming or even when he would bury himself between your thighs until you couldn't handle it anymore, was enough to settle things

• over the course of your pregnancy, Dave realized your bond was stronger than never, because you two were very much in love, you were expecting a child Dave already loved so much without the fear of this baby growing into an obnoxious child like it happened before

• the fact he was going to have a little boy after two girls was also pretty exciting for him, as he figured it would be somehow easier and he kind of had hopes to fix his own traumas by being a kind father to a boy, knowing what a boy needed as growing up

• he loved how happy and careful you were with everything you got as a gift for the baby: baby shoes, clothes, onesies, you were so thankful for people's kindness to gift your baby, never trash-talking anything you got and also thanking Dave for the gifts

• he realized you were both more united, not working against each other with a baby in the middle, but instead, working together in order to raise that precious little thing you two loved so much and it showed him a real meaning of family to him

• you two were meant to be, your baby was loved by the two of you with all your hearts and you couldn't want another life, things were good and the Yorks were finally happy the way they deserved to be ❤️

____

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

[absurdthirst]

Married to the Mafia {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 33.2k

Warnings: Forced marriage, dub-con, virgin reader, threats and intimidation, talks of infidelity, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of anal sex, talks of infertility, breeding kink?, allergies, pregnancy, angst, heart break, medical emergencies, childbirth

Comments: Dave York never has anything pure, his life as the mafia leader for the York family pretty much assures that. But you are pure, and he wants you. Erasing your father's debt if you marry him to have his children, he finds himself fighting against the inclination to fall in love. How can the leader of the mafia love, after all?

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**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 hates being kept waiting. One of his biggest pet peeves. He is a man who lives on a schedule so if one minute is off, he is annoyed, and when Dave gets annoyed...God help the people around him. As the boss of the biggest mafia family in America, undercover in the D.C area (which he says is full of crooks just like him except he knows who he is and doesn't pretend to be a martyr), he has to ensure that his operation runs smoothly. His father, God rest his soul, had taught him that letting anything slip leads to mistakes, and mistakes lead to being caught...or killed. He checks his watch just as the double doors to the hotel suite open and Dave shifts to stand, buttoning his suit jacket. 

"Mr. York, apologies for being late. Traffic was awful." The man says but Dave barely listens. his eyes on you. He's seen you before. During poker games between his men where you are serving drinks at the casino. He wanted to fuck you as soon as he saw you. When he found out you were a virgin, he wanted to marry you. Dave has always had the desire to marry but not for love, no, he wants an heir. He wants an heir from a woman who has never been fucked by anyone other than him. You are perfect. Beautiful, smart, pure. Everything he has ever wanted. His eyes meet yours, scared and confused. No doubt your father didn't tell you what you were doing here. 

Your father, as good a man as he is working for the York family, has a gambling problem and Dave took advantage of that. Deciding to offer to pay off your father's debts in exchange for you. It took some convincing, the man pretending to be hesitant in essentially selling his daughter, but he agreed after some persuasion. Now, here you are and Dave is ready to take what is his. "Hello sweetheart." Dave smiles, wanting you to relax a little. No one likes a stiff broad. 

"Mr. York." You almost whisper, certain that you are here because you did something wrong. Working in one of the York casinos was always risky - you never knew who would react badly to a loss - but you don't think you have done anything wrong, at least not to be fired or killed.

Your father looks stiff beside you, never explaining why you need to come with him to his meeting with his boss. You had just been told to get dressed in the outfit he had tossed you and make sure you wore minimal makeup. Apparently Mr. York had strict rules about the women who were allowed in the meetings with him if the modest white dress was anything to judge by. Nervous, you wonder why you are here, wracking your brain to try to think of what you had done that could have drawn the man’s attention.

Dave steps towards you, reaching out to grip your chin so he can look into your pretty eyes. "Did your daddy tell you why you are here, sweetheart?" He asks and you can't shake your head so you whisper, "no." Dave tuts, looking over at the older man who is sheepish. 

"I'm sorry sir, I thought it would be better coming from you." 

Coward, Dave thinks, but he doesn't care. He knows what he wants and he will do what it takes to get it. "Your daddy has allowed me the honor of marrying you. You're going to be my wife."

“What - no.” You want to shake your head again, but you don’t. “I- I don’t know you, not personally. You don't want to marry me, we aren’t - what about love?” Your eyes seek out your father, praying that this is some kind of trick. A joke between the men or perhaps a bet on how you would react. Your father would gamble on anything so you don’t put it past him. “I- I promised myself I would only sleep with the man that I love after we get married.”

Dave wants to scoff. What a juvenile concept: love. As far as he is concerned, it doesn't exist. People marry for convenience. People marry for money. People marry to fuck. He doesn't believe in love. His parents married to bring two mafia families together. An arrangement. He needs you to be on board. He's not a monster, he won't force you. He caresses your cheek, letting go of your chin, "that's why I want you. You are perfect. Pure enough to give birth to my heir. I want a child...children. You are the woman I want." He knows he has to entertain you if you are to agree. "Love...comes later." He nearly spits the word but he forces himself to practically coo it.

You aren’t naive, you know that there is something else going on. Dave York didn’t just decide that you are the woman he wants as his wife one day. Not when women throw themselves at him. “What else is going on?” You demand, looking over at your father who looks guilty. “What did you do?”

Before your father answers, Dave speaks. "Your father is a very lucky man. I have decided to pay off his...extortionate gambling debt in exchange for you. He agreed and I expect you will be resentful of me but I do plan to look after you. You will want for nothing. Whatever you desire, it will be yours. As long as you do as I say, you can have the world."

Jesus, you’ve been sold. Your eyes widen in horror and you almost start to cry. You have no choice in this, you are marrying Dave York whether you like it or not. “Dad….” You whimper and your father winces. 

“He promises he will take care of you.” Your dad assures you. “He is a man of his word.”

Dave sighs softly, stepping away from you to give you a moment to process and he knows this must be a lot to process. He is a monster but not that kind of monster. "The wedding has been scheduled for next month. I organized a wedding planner. You can pick whatever you want, cost is of no consequence. Pick whatever dress you want. It is your day and, despite what you might think, I want you to be happy." Dave offers, not liking the tears in your eyes. He shakes that thought away, knowing that softness is not a good thing. You will be his but he can never be yours. Not truly.

Feeling numb, you merely nod your heat meekly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t want much.” You murmur, knowing that you won’t have a wedding with a man you love. You won’t be an excited, exuberant bride like you had imagined when you were a little girl. “I will make sure that it’s worthy of you.” You add, knowing that he is an important man, and people will expect a certain level of sophistication.

Dave knows this is going to be difficult, trying to get you on side, but he will do it. He has to win you over to ensure you have his child. You’re the perfect candidate to be the mother of his child. “I will have my men go to your home to gather your things. You’re coming home with me now. Say goodbye to your father. You will see him soon.” Dave promises, wanting you to know you’re not his prisoner.

You turn to your father, angry and hurt that he would sell you to pay his debts. He has always been reckless, but this is over the top. However, he’s your father, your only living parent left. “Goodbye, I’ll see you soon.” You offer woodenly, only hugging him when he pulls you into his arms for a hug.

Dave watches the exchange, knowing your father feels guilty but the money...he owed a million dollars. He was gonna be killed if he didn't pay it off. Dave waits until you step back before he offers his hand. "Come on sweetheart, let's take you home." He can't wait for you to see the room he has set up for you. He knows you wouldn't want to sleep in the same bed as him right away until you adjust.

You bite your lip as you take his hand, allowing him to lead you from the hotel room where you had met him. “Why did we meet in a hotel room?” You ask curiously, wondering if he conducted all his business in the hotel or if it had been for some other reason.

Dave sighs again under his breath. The truth is that he had a woman in the hotel room. One of the women he fucks around with on a regular basis. All of them know the arrangement - it’s just sex. Dave York doesn’t do emotions and if they got a new purse out of it, they are happy. However, that’s all over now. He will have to be more discreet if he fucks around. He doesn’t need you hearing about it. “I had a meeting. Wanted privacy.” He answers smoothly, hoping you don’t notice the wrinkled sheets despite him having the room made up after his escapade. “Don’t worry about that now, let’s get you settled.” He insists, guiding you out of the room and away from your waste of space father.

You sigh, knowing that he’s lying and he won’t tell you the truth. You had noticed the bed was mused and he obviously had been fucking someone in the room before you had arrived. Probably the woman who had been waiting for the elevator when you arrived on this floor. Your stomach flips, unhappy with the idea of your husband sleeping with other people, although you know that you won’t have a say in what he does. He owns you. You will just have to continuously get tested to make sure he doesn’t give you something. You don’t want to hurt any potential children you have. Instead of saying anything, you just bite your lip and watch your feet as he leads you down the hall to the elevators, trying to figure out how to handle this.

Dave sees his men trail behind and he gets into the elevator with you, just you. They will take the other one. “I know this is a lot to take in but we will have a fulfilled life together. You can have whatever you want. Jewelry. Purses. Clothes. Shoes. Cars. Whatever your heart desires.” He promises and you let go of his hand, swallowing harshly as tears sting in your eyes. 

“My heart wants love.” You choke, a tear escaping as reality hits. 

Dave steps towards you, reaching up to gently wipe the tear away. “Don’t be a silly girl. Love…it’s just what people say to each other when they want to fuck. Have you ever been in love?” He asks and you shake your head. “Exactly. How do you know it’s what you want?”

You blow out a sigh, knowing that he won't understand. "I want to be with someone because I cannot bear to be away from them, not because they can buy me jewelry and purses. Just like I want them to only want to be in my bed and not have liaisons in hotels with whatever woman they fancy." You murmur, batting his hand away so you can wipe away your own tears. "I want laughter and happiness. Jokes and dancing in the kitchen. I want butterflies when he kisses me. For him to be able to come to me for comfort when he's upset or stressed."

Dave pauses, realizing he has never seen that kind of companionship. His parents were very cold towards each other. Civil but practically lived separate lives. His mother raised him and served on several charity boards while his father ran the family business, being kept away at all hours. “Sounds like a Disney movie. It’s time to grow up. Face reality. This is real life, sweetheart and you’ll realize that sooner or later, all that shit is just a dream.” He’s harsh but you are pissing him off. He’s offered you things that most women would be humping his leg for and you want things he can’t buy you. Things that, quite frankly, don’t exist. The elevator doors open and he wraps his arm around your waist. “Chin up. Don’t want people to see you’ve been crying.” He orders quietly, guiding you through the lobby to his awaiting car.

You realize that this is your life. You can either make the best of it, or you can wallow in misery. Wallowing can be saved for when eyes aren't on you. You lift your head and lean into his side as if you want to be there when the doors open, plastering a brilliant smile on your face. As if you were the luckiest woman on earth for what is happening. Some might think that you were, but you don't.

Dave smiles at a few of the staff who greet their boss, and he guides you towards his awaiting car. The driver opens the door of the town car and he helps you into the backseat before sliding in beside you. The door shuts as his driver and guard get into the front seat and he looks at you. Christ, you're gorgeous, even when you've been crying, and he swears he will do what he can to make you happy. Within reason. Dave doesn't do emotions.

You don't remember most of the car ride, looking out at the world as it passes by. Once in the car you feel his eyes on you, but you don't acknowledge it, knowing that he would talk if he wanted. It wasn't as if Dave York needed permission to do anything. If anything, you needed permission. Since you were technically his property, bought with the sum of your father's gambling debt. Soon enough, you are pausing at a large set of gates and they swing open ominously, the walled estate of his is now your prison.

Once the car comes to a stop outside of the main building, Dave exits the car and holds his hand out. You ignore it, helping yourself out of the car and he swallows down the urge to roll his eyes at your childish move. He plasters a smile on his face, guiding you into the house and his housekeeper. Mrs. Jenkins is waiting for your arrival. "Welcome home sir." She greets Dave. "Sweetheart, this is Mrs. Jenkins, my housekeeper. She is going to show you to your temporary room. I have some work to attend to so I will see you for dinner." He kisses your cheek and walks off, knowing that this transactional engagement doesn't require all of his time.

“Hello.” You offer, nodding politely at the housekeeper, she looks like she is a nice lady. She’s not in charge of Dave and can’t make him change his mind, so there is no reason to be rude to her. “I apologize for any inconvenience I’ve caused.” You offer. “I will try not to be too much trouble.” As much as you hate that this is happening, you wish Dave had stayed so you at least could have a familiar face. 

Mrs. Jenkins tuts, "trouble? None at all. You are going to be the lady of the house. Come on honey, let me show you to your room." She gestures to the hallway. "And you can tell me what foods you like and what time you eat breakfast. I want to prepare something special to celebrate you being here. It's about time we had a woman in the house."

“Oh.” You brighten up and bite your lip. “I like making french toast.” You admit, knowing that it takes awhile for the custard casserole that you make to set up. “Would it be…okay if I used the kitchen sometime?” You ask. “I love to cook and perhaps there can be a night where I cook for the staff instead of them taking care of us.” 

Mrs. Jenkins smiles, already liking you. “You don’t have to do that. We are here to look after you and Mr. York. Please, you can use the kitchen whenever you wish. This is your home now. Whenever you need something, you tell us and we can get it for you. I will have the chef make you French toast for breakfast tomorrow.” She declares as she opens the door to the biggest guest room of them all, already set up with your things since Dave had his men get it all from your home.

“Wow.” You gasp breathlessly, looking around the ornate room. Your things look out of place, as if they don’t belong, but you had not lived in opulence. Your father’s house was modest and you hadn’t been concerned with having the best of everything. “It’s beautiful.” You look over at the housekeeper, knowing she had set everything up. “Thank you so very much for arranging everything.”

She smiles, pleased you are happy. She has missed having someone else in the house. Dave tends to keep to himself and she wants children to run around after and assist with so she’s eager. “I hope you’re happy here.” She pats you on the shoulder. “Dinner will be ready at 6pm.” She announces, “I will leave you to settle in.” She steps back out of the room, leaving you as she shuts the door.

You look around the room and sigh. It’s a beautiful gilded cage, meant to distract you from the fact that you have been bought by a man who doesn’t love you. He bought you because you are a virgin, untouched by anyone else. Sighing, you walk over to the book shelf that was loaded down with your favorite books and pick up one of the sweetest romances you had been reading. Maybe there was some way to find a way out of this. Before you were married. 

Dave walks into the kitchen, his suit jacket and tie abandoned and his sleeves rolled up. His home has a big dining room but he hates eating in there unless he has a party. It’s too big and he feels stupid. When you come into the kitchen after Mrs. Jenkins went off to get you, Dave is once again taken back by how pretty you are, even as you glare at him. “Glass of wine?” He asks, reaching for the bottle of red he had the cook air earlier.

“Why do you want me?” You demand, ignoring his question in favor of one of your own. “Is it just because no man has touched me? That’s the requirement to carry Dave York’s heir?” You ask sarcastically. “Why not use one of the women that fall into your bed?”

He bites his lip, keeping his eyes on yours. “I want you because you…you are gorgeous. I know you’d be a good mother. You aren’t greedy or flashy. You aren’t desperate for wealth and you don’t want to show off. You want to live a simple life and be happy. The fact that you’re a virgin…it’s what I have always wanted. Someone pure since I’m…I’m not. In any way shape or form. I picked you because you’re perfect.” He answers, hoping you will accept his response and he pours you a glass of wine.

You take the glass and nod. “I’m not perfect.” You correct him. “Far from it. But I know that I am what you want because I am pure.” You take a sip of the wine. “Does that mean that you won’t want me once I’m not pure?”

Dave shakes his head. “No. I want the mother of my children to only have my cock inside of her, filling her up, impregnating her.” He says it nonchalantly but his cock twitches at the mere idea of you being the mother of his children, cumming on his cock and no one else’s.

You snort and send him a narrowed eyed look. “While you are trying to impregnate me, you won’t be sleeping with your floozies.” You tell him. “I’m not catching something that I pass to the children.”

Dave clenches his jaw, the retort that threatens to spill over his lips nearly escapes but he stops himself, offering you a soft smile instead. He has to pick and choose his battles and you just said you’d let him knock you up. “Of course sweetheart. Just you. Until you’re pregnant.” He promises, offering a compromise and the guard brings over the large velvet box. “What is that?” You narrow your eyes. “You get to pick your engagement ring.” He declares, opening the box to display the five ornate rings.

Your eyes widen at the size of the rings. “I- they are too big.” You tell him, sure that you would never wear something so big and ornate. “I - is there something simpler to wear? I would never wear these beyond events you want me to attend.”

Dave sighs, knowing that most women would kill to be given one of these rings, let alone be allowed to pick one. He does know of a ring that is simpler, but he didn’t think you’d want it. “I do have one. I- it’s my mother’s ring. Wait here.” He stands up, making his way to his office and the safe, quickly opening it to grab the small velvet box and he returns with it, sitting down then opening the box to show you the simpler ring.

“Oh.” You sigh softly and your eyes go slightly dreamy at the simple ring. The diamond is still bigger than you would like, but it’s a solitaire with a thin band. “It’s beautiful.” You reach for it and hesitate, looking at Dave for permission. “May I try it on?”

Dave nods, taking it out of the box, and he can’t stop himself from staring at your dreamy eyes as he slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit. He inhales sharply, admiring how the ring looks on your hand, his hand still holding yours as he cradles your fingers.

Dave realizes that all the money he has could never replace this ring and he hopes you care for it. It looks perfect on your finger and he swallows harshly, knowing his mother would’ve loved you already. “It’s yours now.” He rubs his thumb over the ring before he lets go of your hand, just in time because the cook sets the dinner down in front of you. He snaps the other box shut, he will have someone return those rings tomorrow.

You feel weird with the weight of the ring on your hand. Unable to keep from glancing down at your hand continuously as you pick up your fork and knife. “Dinner looks delicious.” You comment. “I’ve asked if I could perhaps cook sometime.”

Dave is shocked. The kitchen hasn’t been cooked in by anyone other than a chef since his mother died. “Uh yeah. You can. Of course you can. You cook?” He asks, cutting into his food and he is pleasantly surprised. Yet another reason why you are perfect for this position.

“I do.” You nod quickly. “I normally cooked for me and my dad.” You tell him, cutting into your own food. “I love to experiment with new dishes. Love to bake. I routinely bring in cookies or cakes to the others when I work - oh, does that mean that I am not working anymore?”

Dave immediately wants to say no to you working but he can’t take your entire life away from you. He can keep an eye on you at work and he can let you have some freedom. “Until we are married. You can continue working until we are married.” He compromises.

“Good.” You are relieved at that, giving him a genuine smile and you reach over to touch his arm without thinking about it. “I am glad that I can keep working, I want to be able to say goodbye to the friends that I work with.”

“I will have a guard keeping an eye on you though. I’m a powerful man, sweetheart. I have enemies. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me so a guard will always be near you while you work.” He adds, cutting into the chicken before taking a bite.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you will have someone watching you at all times. However, he could have just told you that you wouldn’t be able to work at all, so you will take the win where you can get it. “As long as they don’t interfere with me working, we will be okay.”

“They will just be watching you…unless they need to intervene. You’re going to be Mrs. York. You’ll be the wealthiest woman in this cesspool of a town. Those asshole politicians think they run shit but they don’t. I do. And you will be beside me, my beautiful wife. I will have the wedding planner come tomorrow so you can start telling her what you want.”

You nod, wondering what he would want for the wedding. “Is there anything in particular you want?” You ask him, wanting to know more. You just know Dave York, the boss. But he’s going to be your husband and you want to know him as the man.

He thinks about it for a moment, remembering the photos from his parent's wedding. "I want red roses. Lots of them. Everywhere. Money is no object." He tells you, and you nod, "why red roses?" He smiles, setting his knife and fork down since he has finished eating. "They are beautiful but have thorns that can hurt, make you bleed. They are the best of us both. You, sweetheart, are the rose. I am the thorns."

You lift your brows at the surprising sentimental viewpoint. Nodding again, you give a wistful smile. “That will be the flowers for the wedding then.” You decide. “Blood red roses and white baby’s breath.” It would look striking of course, classic. The comment that he had made gave you a small amount of hope that he might be a secret romantic. You smile at Dave again, your eyes softer.

Dave hums with agreement, your soft smile making his stomach twist and he forces himself to ignore it, reminded once more of what connections can do. He has to keep his distance. Mrs. Jenkins gathers your plates once you've finished eating and brings in the dessert. "I thought you might like something special since it's the night of our engagement." He hadn't even asked you but he wants you to think he somewhat cares for you. You won't be open to having him inside of you without him being nice somehow. He hopes you like the delicate cake he had asked the chef to prepare. His favorite...raspberry and vanilla.

“Oh thank you.” You bite your lip and look down at the cake that is brought out. It’s beautiful and it looks delicious. Except…you won’t eat it. It looks like it has raspberries and you are allergic to them. “It looks beautiful. Is this your favorite?”

Dave nods, eagerly digging into the cake and you hesitant, not picking up your fork. "Is something wrong?" He asks and you bite your lip, nervous to say anything. 

"It has raspberries and I'm allergic." You declare and Dave immediately regrets not asking you if you had any allergies. He should know this stuff. 

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't know." He stands up, taking both your plate and his and walks into the kitchen. 

"Dave." You call out and he ignores you, coming back a few moments later with a plate of the chocolate cake the chef had prepared earlier alongside the raspberry one. 

"You're not allergic to chocolate, are you?" He asks hesitantly, cursing himself for not asking you beforehand. There's so much he has to learn.

You smile at the new cakes in his hand. “No, I think I would cry if I was allergic to chocolate.” You joke. Dave nods and sets down the cake in front of you and sits down. “You didn’t have to give up your own cake.” You protest softly, hating that he was giving up eating his favorite cake because of you. “I would have been fine being around it, I just can’t eat it.” 

“Oh.” He flushes slightly, realizing that he should’ve asked that first but he knows people can be allergic just from airborne particles. “It’s okay. I like chocolate too. More indulgent.” He winks at you, trying to make you as comfortable as possible and he finds it’s not as hard as he thought it was going to be. “I can eat that tomorrow. Now, eat your cake.” He orders softly.

Picking up your fork, you feel a bit more relaxed. He had shown more heart than he realized in that small little action and you feel better about this idea. You really wish that you had a choice about marrying a man you love, but maybe Dave is right, maybe love will come with time. 

Dave watches you dig in, happy you are eating the cake, and after you’ve finished, Mrs. Jenkins comes in to clear the plates. “I have emails to respond to. Get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow. Night sweetheart.” He says, standing up, and he drops a kiss to your forehead before he strides off, reminding himself that this is an arrangement. Nothing more.

****

Rushing around the craps table at the casino, you drop off the drinks at the blackjack table like you had been ordered to. The last few days have been a whirlwind and honestly the scheduled day of work was a nice break from picking out colors and arrangements, music and all the small details that go into a wedding. Dave hadn’t lied when he said there was no limit to what you could spend, but you were trying to go for elegance and yet have it feel like you were actually in love with your intended. Fulfilling drink orders and caring for the gamblers, even with the security that was shadowing you, was a needed change.

Dave enters the casino, deciding to visit you. He had accepted yesterday that he is looking forward to marrying you. You are smart as a whip, funny, and ridiculously sweet. Far too sweet for his murdering ass. He has learned about your interests during dinner and he plans to get you the cooking things you want but could never afford. Like a pasta maker. Who makes pasta? Apparently you do. The staff are always on edge when he enters one of his establishments and that’s just how he likes it. 

He strides over to the table you’re serving, just about to greet you when he sees the asshole put his hand on your ass. His pace quickens and he grabs his knife from his jacket, opening it and in a flash, he grabs the man’s hand from your ass and slams it on the table, his knife going through his palm within seconds. “Fuck!” The man screams. 

“You never touch her again. Otherwise the knife will be going in your fucking chest. You understand?” Dave growls. The man’s gurgled wail of pain isn’t good enough. “Do you fucking understand?” Dave hisses and the man nods, crying out in pain and he screams when Dave withdraws his knife, turning to you.

Your eyes are wide and you are stunned into silence. It was quick and brutal. You know what kind of man Dave is, you’ve heard the rumors but you’ve never witnessed anything like this. Security always drags off the people who are causing problems, but Dave had not only done this very publicly - since all eyes are on this table - but he also ruined one of his busiest tables. Your mouth drops open in shock and you look back at the man before looking back at Dave. He had just stabbed that man, for touching your ass. Granted, you didn’t want him touching you, but you don’t think the action warranted a knife through his hand. 

Dave looks at you, seeing the horror in your eyes, and part of him feels guilty you had to witness that, the other part feels happy you’re horrified. Reminds him that you could never love a monster like him. “Come on sweetheart. You’re done.” He says, grabbing your waist and guiding you towards the staff area, feeling pent up enough to fuck but he can’t.

“Wait, I have to finish working.” You tug on his hand but he ignores you, continuing on towards the doors that are clearly marked ‘Employees Only’. 

“No, you are finished.” Dave growls. “You are not working here anymore.” 

You huff and tug on his hand again. “You said I could work until we get married. I haven’t said goodbye to everyone! It will leave them short staffed.” 

“I will make sure they hire someone else. You can get your goodbyes now without going back on the floor. You are done here. No one touches what is mine. Tell me, how many fucking times does that happen?” He asks, furious that this could’ve been happening without his knowledge.

You bite your lip, looking up into his dark eyes. He’s livid and you know you shouldn’t lie to him. Right now, you see why everyone is scared of Dave York. “At- at least once a shift.” You admit softly. “Although it happens to other girls more.” You add, as if that makes it better. “We just deflect or joke around with them so that they stop trying to grope us. We have a symbol for marking the ones that are handsy in the system. Put it next to their names to let the other girls know to be on the lookout. Since the manager says that it’s a part of the job serving drinks here.” 

Dave shakes his head. He might be a murderer but he’s never been a perv. He’s pissed, shaking his head. “I am going to tell security that anyone doing that will be thrown out and banned. No one should be pulling that shit. You aren’t gonna be working here anymore sweetheart. If you want a job, I’ll find you something else. The next person that feels you up is a dead man. That fucking manager of yours is a dead man. Get your stuff, you are leaving after you say your goodbyes.”

Gathering up your things, you feel Dave’s impatient gaze on you. He’s irritated and it’s because you opened your mouth. Yes, the servers and drink runners here had continuously gone to the manager about people sexually harrassing them until the man had simply stated that it was a part of the job and if a high roller asked you for sex, to consider it a compliment - but that didn’t mean the man deserved to die. Once you have your things, you turn to him quietly and walk over to where he is standing. 

Dave is practically vibrating with anger as he guides you back into the main hall. Some brave men look around at him, others try to avoid his eye and therefore his wrath. "Say your goodbyes sweetheart." He orders, grabbing your things and handing them to his guard standing nearby. He crosses his arms, knowing that he could easily kill that motherfucking manager, but not today, he wants to take you home first. He won't allow anyone in this sewer of a town to touch what belongs to him.

You quickly say goodbye to the girls that are standing around, word going out on the floor and others rushing over to hug you. You had made a lot of friends here, some of those attending your wedding, but you wanted to say goodbye. You wish you had more time, but Dave is tapping his foot and you rush back over to him. “I’m- I’m ready.” You offer quietly,

Nodding, he reaches for you to pull you close, a protective hand around your waist, and he glares at anyone who looks his way while he guides you out of the casino and to his awaiting car. Once you're inside, he pulls out his cell and dials his right hand man, Resnik. 

"Boss?" Resnik answers immediately. 

"I want Liam Pollock in the building this evening. He's the manager for the casino on Fifth. I want to have a chat with him." Dave declares, "make it 8 o' clock. I want to be on time for dinner with my fiancé." He hangs up the phone, sliding it back into his jacket and he doesn't look at you, not wanting you to see the monster that lures in his eyes.

You bite your lip, wondering if you’ve made a mistake. Wondering if you should have lied to Dave about what was happening in his casino. Instead of dwelling on it, you decide to watch the people passing. “Since I’m off work, why don’t I fix dinner tonight?” You offer, turning to look at his side profile.

Dave is surprised that you want to cook dinner for him. “You’re not gonna poison it, are you?” He jokes, smirking at you. “If you want to work, I can find you another position in the business. Something behind the scenes. I just - I cannot have you out on the floor. I’d kill too many men.” He says without any humor, deadly serious.

Your eyes widen and you almost laugh, thinking he was serious. Until he doesn’t laugh at all. Then you choke slightly and cough. “Oh, uh, I guess whatever you want me to do.” You murmur, feeling a bit uneasy. “Do you want me working? I know that I will be worried about having my own money.”

“You don’t have to worry about money when you’re a York, sweetheart. I am having a pre-nup drawn up that you can review with your own attorney, paid for by me, picked by you, which offers you a very good alimony in case we divorce. As for while we are married? You will have your own credit cards, you could spend a million bucks and it wouldn’t make a dent.” He reveals, knowing he had to have this conversation at some point.

You shake your head. “I don’t want your money.” You insist. “I don’t have to have a lawyer read over anything. Your money is yours, I just- I can’t even imagine you allowing a divorce.” You reveal, knowing that despite what he said, once you’re married, the only way that you are leaving the family is in a casket.

Dave doesn’t argue with that. He won’t divorce, absolutely plans not to, but shit happens and who knows? He wouldn’t leave you in the lurch. Especially since you’d be the mother of his child. “The child would remain in my care, of course if we were to divorce.” He says, like it’s obvious. “You will hire an attorney of your choice and you will review the pre-nup. Then we will get married and you will give me an heir to my empire.” He declares like it’s easily done.

You bite your lip, not willing to say that you would never abandon a child that you had. “Fine.” You huff. “I will hire an attorney to go over any paperwork that you send over.” You don’t feel like he will drop this and you don’t care about money, but he seems obsessed with making sure things are settled. Maybe it was because you’ve never had money.

Dave hums with contentment, pleased that you didn’t argue. The car pulls into the estate and Dave’s door is opened. He turns to look at you before he gets out, “you are to be my wife. I won’t have anyone saying I don’t provide for you. I will give you a credit card and you will go shopping for new clothes. I want you to get whatever you want. It’s the least I can do since you are mine.” He says, getting out and buttoning his jacket as he enters his home, making his way to his office to prepare for beating your moron manager.

You don’t appreciate the way that he simply walks off from you, but you hold your tongue. Instead you walk into the kitchens and smile at the cook. “I want to give you a night off.” You tell him with a smile. “Is that alright with you?” The cook nods with a smile. 

“Of course it is. It’s your kitchen.” He tells you, although you don’t argue that you aren’t married to Dave yet.

****

Dave enters the house, the smell of whatever it is that you’re cooking hits his nose and he inhales deeply. He groans, his stomach rumbling and he walks into the kitchen. Your ex manager, Pollock, will be ensuring that no one touches anyone inappropriately in his casino and that involved teaching Pollock is a lesson. Dave usually has his men take care of such…messy interactions but this time was personal. His knuckles are bruised but he had cleaned up enough to return home to you. He walks into the kitchen after hanging up his jacket and he sees you at the stove, barefoot and wearing an apron. It’s adorable and sexy at the same time. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss your neck but he doesn’t. You aren’t open enough to him yet. “Something smells good.”

You turn and notice the specks of blood on his shirt and the bruises on his knuckles. You bite your lip and don’t say anything about his appearance, just turning back to the stove. “I’m making roast chicken and vegetables, mashed potatoes and gravy.” You offer him. “And I made a pudding for dessert. It’s not fancy, but it was a last minute meal.”

Dave is impressed and he walks closer to you, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. “Sounds delicious, sweetheart. You want any help?” He offers, “maybe I can open a bottle of wine.” His eyes drift down to your ass, those leggings you changed into making his cock twitch.

“That sounds good.” You glance back over at him and your eyes drift down to his knuckles again before you stir the boiling potatoes again. “Whatever you want with the chicken. Did you kill him?” It’s the first that you’ve acknowledged his disheveled appearance and you are trying to seem nonchalant about it.

Dave chuckles, admiring how ballsy you are to ask him. He shakes his head, shifting away from the counter and he walks over to the resting chicken, grabbing the carving knife. “I didn’t kill him. He, however, won’t be allowing any handsy fuckers to touch the staff.” Dave replies just as nonchalantly.

“That’s good, the girls don’t deserve that kind of treatment.” You firmly believe that. “I believe that he would have had us sleep with the men if it meant they spent more money in the casino.” You fork up a potato and check that it’s perfectly tender, flipping off the burner and moving the pot over to the sink to drain the potatoes to mash. Watching carefully as you pour off the seasoned water and move over to the counter to start adding butter and milk and more spices to mash in with it and whip them to a creamy perfect consistency.

Dave clenches his jaw, “knew I should’ve killed the motherfucker.” He hisses under his breath, grip tightening on the knife as he cuts the chicken and puts it on the awaiting tray. He sets the knife down and walks over to you. “No one…you didn’t - no one has touched you before?” He asks, wanting to double check.

“No.” Shaking your head, you stop stirring the potatoes before you turn to him and frown. “I haven’t ever done…anything. I mean, I’ve been kissed, but nothing beyond that.” You grab the bowl to transfer the potatoes into and sigh, “I’m sure you want to have that verified by a doctor?” You ask.

Dave trusts you but he wants you checked out by a doctor for your overall health as well as your virginal status. He walks over to you, stopping you scooping the potatoes so he can grip your chin, making you look at him. “Who kissed you?” He asks, wanting to know.

Your breath catches, staring into his dark eyes and you wonder if he will try to kill the man who had kissed you. “I- it was in high school.” You admit quietly, telling him the name of one of his own men. “It never went beyond that. I swear.”

Dave hums, content that it was a while ago. No doubt that teenager had kissed you poorly. He wants to kiss you now, slide his tongue into your mouth and show you how good it can be. “I want to kiss you.” He declares, his dark eyes focused on yours, never shifting and it’s intense.

“You bought me, didn’t you?” You ask softly, knowing that he could do anything he wanted with you. The fact that he was marrying you was surprising now that you think about it. He could have just taken your innocence instead of making you the wife of the most powerful man in the city.

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I won't force you. I may be a bad man but I will never make you do anything you don't want to do. I would hope that I am not repulsive to you, that you would want me to touch you eventually. Let me kiss you, show you how good it can be." His voice lowers, his eyes focusing on your lips.

You bite your lip, watching his nostrils flare slightly in response and you swallow. Nodding, you watch his eyes meet yours again. “I- you can kiss me.” You know that you have no clue what you’re doing and perhaps when he sees how unskilled you are, he won’t want to go through with this.

Dave leans closer, his lips brushing yours until he tilts his head, kissing you properly. His hand cups your cheek, his other hand gripping your waist to pull you closer and he hopes you enjoy the kiss. He wants you to marry him, to have his child. It will make his life easier if you are on board. His tongue slides along your lower lip and you whimper when he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His stomach twists as he realizes this is the first time he has kissed since his college girlfriend. He never liked kissing his dalliances since it was too intimate but you are to be his wife so he needs to offer you some intimacy. He pulls back after a moment, pecking your lips. "Food is getting cold. Let's sit down." He says, trying to ignore his long frozen heart as he turns back to the plate of carved chicken.

You stand there for a few moments in shock. Awed at how your stomach had flipped and dipped when his mouth covered yours and his tongue caressed inside your mouth. “Yes. Dinner.” Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you dish up the gravy into a boat and rush to bring everything to the table while Dave brings the platter of chicken. Now dinner feels intimate, like you were cooking for your fiancé. Which you guess you were, his ring still on your finger.

Dave watches as you sit down after he’s taken his seat and he hates how his lips tingle from the kiss. He hasn’t had that happen before. He clears his throat and starts to serve the food, placing some chicken on your plate. The silence is heavy but not uncomfortable. “Did you get the flowers ordered?” He asks after several moments.

“I did.” You nod and spoon up some of the mashed potatoes and pass the potatoes to him. “I think we have ordered every red rose within two hundred miles.” You laugh quietly and give him a small shrug. “There will be plenty of flowers for the wedding and reception.”

"Good. I want it to be the wedding of your dreams...well almost." He adds, knowing you want the ridiculous addition of love but since when has love ever been good? Great men have failed, some died, because of love. It's insanity. "You have your appointment to go dress shopping?" He asks, "you have no budget. I want you to pick whatever you want."

You open your mouth and then close it, wondering what he would say if he knew what you really wanted. “I made an appointment, but I - I would like to see if they can alter my mother’s wedding dress. I’ve always dreamed of wearing it.” You reveal, biting your lip as you wait for his reaction. “With modifications, of course.”

He’s taken back that you want to use your mother’s gown. It’s sweet and he already knows the best tailor to send you to to have it adjusted. “Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want. This is your wedding. Perhaps you can buy a dress for the reception?” He suggests.

You nod eagerly, happy that he would allow you to have your mother’s dress. “That would be nice. The wedding dress can just be for the ceremony and I’ll change into a party dress for the reception.” You decide, giving him a sincere smile.

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Do you want to have anyone at the wedding? Your father of course is invited but any other friends or family?” He doesn’t just want it to be all his associates. He doesn’t really have friends. All of his “friends” would step on him the moment he slipped up and they had a chance to get above him.

“There are a few from work.” You admit quietly. “I don’t have a lot of friends. I was busy working and trying to keep my father from gambling too much.” You huff, “I obviously failed on that front.”

“Invite your friends. Whoever you want. As for your father…he is invited but I will not fund any more gambling. He got up to a million bucks in debt. He was gonna be killed by his other lenders.” Dave reveals, wanting you to know that he did something good even if you aren’t happy with the result.

“Oh my god….” You whisper, feeling sick to your stomach at what could have happened. Your father would have been killed. Men had been killed for much smaller sums than that in the gambling world. You sigh and for the first time, you thank him. “I appreciate you saving my father.” You hum quietly. “Even though it was for selfish reasons, you still did something nice.”

Dave finds that he likes you thanking him. He likes your praise and that unnerves him. Usually, he only appeases himself, does what he wants, but he finds himself - for a moment - wondering what you’d expect from him. Shaking it off, he nods and digs into the food, trying to ignore that nagging feeling. “That was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you.” Dave hums, rubbing his belly. He should go for a run tomorrow morning, and try to trim up for the wedding.

“Oh, thank you.” You fluster slightly and bite your lip as you try to suppress the happiness that surges through you at him enjoying your cooking. You love cooking too much to have to never do it because your husband hates your food. “Maybe I can do it again sometime?”

“Anytime you want. God, it was amazing. I haven’t had a meal that good since my Mom died. Shit, don’t tell the cook that.” He pleads, knowing the cook won’t be pleased by that statement but it’s true. The cook is too fancy sometimes. You giggle and wink at him, making his cock twitch and he huffs at himself, reaching to gather the plates to distract himself.

You are in shock that Dave is picking up his own plates and yours to take into the kitchen. It’s the picture of domesticity. The only thing that is missing is music playing and laughter, followed up by the two of you dancing. “I’ll have to make you some of my favorites.” You promise as you bring the rest of the dishes into the kitchen behind him.

Dave watches you as you begin to wash up and he helps, loading the dishes into the dishwasher. He doesn’t remember the last time he did this but he can’t allow you to cook and clean up. “Go get the pudding, I’ll finish this up.” He orders, loading the plates after rinsing them.

Drying your hands off, you turn away to go into the refrigerator to pull out the two dishes of chocolate pudding you had made, along with the homemade whipped cream. “I know it’s almost childish, but-“ You shrug as you bring the bowls over to the counter near the sink. “It reminds me of desserts with my mom. She loved chocolate pudding.”

Dave groans, “I do too.” He follows you to the table and sits down, taking the dish with eager eyes. “Can I- I saw a summary but…what happened to your mom?” He asks, wanting to hear the story from your lips.

You sigh and your spoon drags through the whipped cream. “Mom and dad wanted lots of kids.” You explain, looking up to give him a small smile. “Did you know that?” Dave shakes his head, unaware of that but he knows you are an only child. “They promised me a brother or sister for Christmas but mom went to the doctor when she was late and they both came home crying.” You scoop up some of the pudding and examine it so you don’t have to look at Dave. “She wasn’t pregnant. She had cervical cancer. She- it was quick. Spread throughout her body rapidly and by Christmas, we were visiting her grave and dad was losing himself in the casinos and card games.”

Dave stares at you for a moment, looking into your eyes that are watering, and Dave wants to take all of that pain away. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. That - there’s nothing I can say to make that better but I promise you, when we are married, you can have as many kids as you want. If we have a daughter, you can name her after your mother.” He vows, reaching for your free hand. He squeezes and sighs, now understanding why your father is the way he is. 

“My parents…they were killed. I was, God, around twenty two and my mom wanted me to attend this stupid political gala and I refused to go. I was young, wanting to go out and party. I didn’t want to put on a suit and go make small talk. They went without me and on the way home…their car skidded on black ice. Turned over and went down a hill and hit a tree. Both of them, their driver, and their guard…dead. I still remember getting that call.” He shivers slightly, “and then I had to take over the family business. I didn’t have time to grieve, I had to get to work. So I did and here I am today.”

“I’m so sorry.” You don’t think, reaching out and covering your combined hands with your free one. “That is horrible, you didn’t have time to mourn and you should have.” You don’t like the fact that you are marrying a man you don’t love, but you hate that he has been alone and unable to process that grief. “Were they - was it a good relationship?” You wonder if that is why he doesn’t put any stock in love.

Dave sighs, looking down at your hands. “My parents were arranged. My mother’s father knew my dad’s father and they arranged their marriage. It was a good choice based on political and financial factors. Love? Didn’t apply. They barely spoke. My mother was always busy with charity events and my father was running the family business. They didn’t love each other. It was convenient to them both. I admired my parents but when they died, I realized that admiration couldn’t save them. It didn’t help me run the business at such a young age.”

Understanding now what made Dave York think that love wasn’t necessary, you pat his hand softly. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly, your heart breaking at the younger Dave not having the loving home you believe all children deserve. Yours hadn’t been perfect, but it wasn’t cold. It sounds like they had little time for the child they created together. “I- I know you speak of heirs, and they are the future of your dynasty, but…” you shake your head. “My children will know love.”

With a sigh, Dave pulls his hand away from yours. He doesn’t want to argue about fucking emotions anymore. If you want to believe in that shit, who is he to stop you? He wants you to be there for his children, to be a good mother and give them what he couldn’t have from his own mother. “The President will be attending our wedding. I gave a lot of money to his re-election campaign so he will be attending with the First Lady. I want to keep the President in my pocket. He knows to leave my…less than legal business alone.”

“Okay.” The moment has passed obviously and your own sigh is much quieter. Looking back down at your pudding and trying to ignore the pang of hurt and sadness at the coming lifetime of loveless interactions. “I will make sure that you are not embarrassed.” Your chair scrapes back from the counter as you stand, suddenly not wanting the sweet dessert. “I am tired.” You announce, dumping the bowl in the sink. “Goodnight.”

Dave watches you go, forcing himself to ignore the way his stomach twists at the sad look on your face before you get up. He stands up, grabbing his own dish and washes everything up, cleaning down the countertop and table so Mrs. Jenkins doesn’t have too much work to do, and he makes his way to his study. He didn’t even get to thank you for dinner. He wanted a business only marriage…so why does he want to go and see you? To make you smile. “Fuck.” He huffs, slapping his cheek softly to make himself see sense. This is an arrangement. Only an arrangement.

****

Taking a deep breath, you try not to cry. Not tears of happiness as you stand in the altered perfection of your mother’s wedding dress and look at your reflection. In a matter of minutes, you will walk down the aisle to marry a man who doesn’t love you, and you don’t love him. Everything is picture perfect and it’s all a farce, an image for him to project to the world. The powerful mafia boss with his virginal bride, pure and innocent, to bear the future generations of his dynasty. You look away from the mirror, blinking quickly so you don’t ruin your makeup and straighten your spine. Today is the result of the last month of careful planning and you will not ruin it for him. You will give him what he’s bought. “I’m ready.” You tell the coordinator, nodding for emphasis.

Dave adjusts his bow tie as he stands at the altar. Waiting for you, he’s anxious, especially since the crowd is large. Pretty much all of D.C are in attendance. The President sitting with his security, and Dave’s own security are scattered throughout the room. He worries for a moment that you have run away, decides to try and escape him. His worries are assuaged when the music begins and the doors open. You didn’t want any bridesmaids and Dave doesn’t have a best man so your father walks you down the aisle and Dave’s stomach twists when he sees how beautiful you look. He can’t look away as you make your way down the aisle to him and he knows he made the right choice. This past month, you’ve been civil towards him, cooking meals now and then but he wouldn’t let you break down his walls. Staying away almost every day to ensure he wouldn’t want to get attached. He shakes your father’s hand when he approaches, taking yours after letting go to escort you the rest of the way to the officiant.

Dave leans in as the officiant begins to ramble. “You look beautiful.” He whispers and you offer him a small smile, “thank you.” He truly means it. Your mother’s dress is gorgeous with the alterations and the red roses in your hand highlight your complexion. You look like an angel and he guesses that that makes him the devil. When it’s finally time for the vows, Dave repeats what he has to say, barely paying attention to them. They don’t matter. He won’t be obedient and loyal. Never has been. He slides his finger into your finger, his dark eyes meeting yours as the officiant turns to you for you to say your vows.

“I.” Your voice is clear, without a waver in your voice to indicate any nerves, is picked up easily by the microphones for the video and the guests in the back of the large church. “Take you, David Anthony York, to be my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and health, to forsake all others, for as long as I live.” You know your husband will not be faithful, having gone to the hotel where you had been told you were marrying him, several times in the past month. You have already told him what you expected and if Dave didn’t listen, there was nothing you could do about it. There was a ring for Dave, the thick gold band fits perfectly on his hand but you aren’t sure if it will be worn beyond tonight. You slide the ring on his hand and turn towards the officiant again.

Dave doesn’t listen to the rest of the speech, not really interested until the officiant declares you husband and wife. Announcing that Dave can now kiss his bride. He hasn’t kissed you since that night in the kitchen so he steps closer, reaching out to cup your cheeks and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that declares to everyone in the ballroom and the world that you belong to him.

You feel the possession in the way that his lips cover yours. He’s not kissing you in love and joy, it’s to show status. You are now his completely. Your eyes flutter closed, knowing it will look better on camera, as if you are melting into the kiss. Listening to the applause from the guests as Dave breaks off the kiss.

He smiles, grabbing your hand to walk you down the aisle as everyone cheers for the newly wed couple and once you’re beyond the double doors, he drops your hand. He ignores your hurt look and the photographer comes over so he wraps his arm around your waist. “Come on sweetheart, let’s take some photos.” He hates taking photos but it’s necessary for his heir to have photos of his parent’s wedding day.

It’s hard to smile for the photos when it’s obvious that Dave is putting very little effort into making this day enjoyable. You are stiff in his arms and any hope you have for the future dies. You stand how the photographer tells you to and smile when they say smile, plastering the look on your face - one that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Dave is grateful when the photos are over. He fucking hates taking photos and his mind hasn’t been changed. He takes your hand once more, guiding you into the ballroom that is being used for your reception and the crowd cheers as the band announces Mr. and Mrs. York. Dave guides you to the dance floor, not even knowing what song you picked for the first dance but he is a surprisingly good dancer. All those years of fighting made him coordinated.

The guests are already starting to drink, several open bars that are scattered throughout the reception hall are already packed with people to get booze. Waiters are gliding around the room with canapés and champagne to those that don’t want hard liquor. You try to focus on the crowd, instead of the man that is guiding you through the dance. After this, you will go change into the dress you had picked out for the party, packing your mother’s dress away carefully.

Dave smiles as he twirls you around, leaning in to softly kiss you once the song ends. He doesn’t listen to a lot of top 40 music nowadays, but he knows Adele and you picked one of her songs for the dance. He wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t. 'Easy On Me' isn’t exactly romantic. “Strange song choice sweetheart.” He comments as he pulls back, knowing he has to go mingle while you go change. He wants your wedding dress on for the first dance for photos but now you can go get out of it. He’s hoping you picked some of the lingerie he sent you to wear under it.

You don’t answer him, instead you walk out of the reception hall and hurry with the coordinator back to the room you had used to get ready. The next dress is sexier, more flirty than the wedding dress and it matched the white lingerie you had picked out. You have no doubt that Dave would want to consummate your marriage tonight and you were honestly scared of it. You don’t know what kind of man, lover, he is and you’ve only shared three kisses.

Dave greets people as they approach him, business associates both legal and illegal all gathered in the same room to celebrate his wedding. He waits for you to get changed and when the band announces your return, his cock twitches at the new sexier dress you’re wearing. A perfect virginal white and he immediately wonders what you have underneath it. You approach him and he kisses you again, pressing his lips to yours to show his intentions. “So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He murmurs against your lips, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close while the crowd cheers.

Dave grins, turning you around so he can guide you over to the President’s table. “Mr. President, Ma’am.” He greets the couple, “this is my beautiful wife.” He introduces you, wanting you to have the honor of meeting the only man possibly as powerful as Dave in this country. He can easily whisper in the man’s ear to get shit done, he’s just gotta offer a few million towards his campaign.

It’s a bit surreal, the idea that the President is at your wedding and you shake his hand, trying not to grimace when he kisses the back of your hand in a wet, opened mouth kiss. Barely resisting the urge to wipe your hand off, you turn to his wife and greet her warmly, wondering if she accepts what kind of man she is married to.

Dave clenches his jaw at the way the president kisses your hand. He wraps his arm around your waist, dragging you back towards him after you’ve greeted the First Lady and he turns to the President, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You ever touch my wife again, I’ll make sure no one in D.C even remembers your name.” He threatens, knowing that even the secret service won’t intervene in his threat. Dave pulls back and plasters on a fake grin as he turns to you, “shall we go eat, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You aren’t hungry but you want to get away from the President before something else happens to cause a scene. The last thing you needed was your wedding to be surrounded by scandal. “Is it what you wanted?” You ask as the two of you are seated at your wedding table.

Dave smiles, nodding. He’s not sure if you mean the wedding or you but he knows he’s happy with both. “I am very happy. The wedding is incredible and so are you. My beautiful bride. I can’t wait for tonight.” He reaches down to squeeze your thigh.

You bite your lip, staring down at your plate as you try to hide how worried you are. You know what to expect, you aren’t naive, but you had always imagined giving yourself to a man you loved.

Dave noticed your hesitancy and sighs. “Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll look after you.” He promises, leaning closer. “You’re gonna cum on my cock tonight.” He coos, squeezing your thigh before letting go.

Your cheeks heat up and all you can do is nod as you try to eat a little bit of the beautiful meal the caterer has made. It’s easily a dinner that is easily better than any state dinner. However, you are so nervous, you can barely stomach anything.

Dave watches you barely eat and he isn’t happy about that. Wondering if it’s anxiety. He will ensure you eat later. He will get you whatever you want. “It’s time for the cake cutting.” The band singer announces and Dave guides you over to the huge cake, smiling as he cuts it with his hand over yours, the cameras flashing. He kisses you before feeding you a piece of the cake. Wanting you to be fed and comfortable. He feeds you another piece of cake, happy you chose chocolate. “Now it’s time for the garter toss before the bouquet toss.”

Shivering slightly, you allow Dave to guide you over to the chair that had been set in the middle of the dance floor while all the single men are invited on the floor to try to catch your garter. You’ve never had a man touch your bare thigh where Dave is going to be reaching and it embarrasses you that it’s going to be done in front of all these people. Sitting down in the chair, you’re shocked to see Dave kneel down and give you a smug wink before he starts sliding his hands under your dress. 

Dave ducks under your dress, his hands sliding along your thighs - clad in silk stockings - until he finds the garter. He shifts closer once he is between your legs and he inhales deeply the heady scent of your body and it makes his cock twitch. When he looks up and sees the pretty white lace covering your virgin cunt and the matching garter belt he groans, loving how sweet and innocent it looks. He knows he can’t take advantage so he finds the garter on your leg, gripping it with his teeth and slowly, so slowly, drags it down your leg.

Your gasp of shock makes everyone laugh, your new husband’s head under your dress. You hear some vulgar comments, but you are too busy burning in embarrassment from him seeing you under your dress. Cringing and trying not to when you feel the grade of his teeth on your skin.

Dave emerges from your dress, victorious with your garter in his teeth, and he winks at you before he shifts to stand up, his cock semi hard and he discreetly adjusts himself before turning back to the group of single men. “Ready fellas?” He asks and all of them cheer. Part of him doesn’t want to give up your garter but he knows this is good for show. He tosses it, rolling his eyes when Resnik catches it. He turns back towards you, holding his hand out to help you up and he notices your flustered appearance. “Nice panties sweetheart.” He murmurs with a smirk.

“Oh my god.” You huffs, ready to just melt into the floor. This man was your husband by law and had every intention of taking your virginity tonight, but you are so flustered by the fact that he just saw your panties. “Shut up.” The coordinator saves you from saving anything else, bringing over your bouquet while the DJ announces that the single women should come to the dance floor for the tossing of the bouquet. Giving you something else to focus on besides the fact that you hadn’t missed the way that your husband had to adjust himself right in front of your face.

Dave watches you toss the bouquet, one of your coworkers catches it and flushes when she has to dance with Resnik. Dave wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your neck. “They’d make a good couple.” He murmurs. 

You scoff, “pretty sure murderers aren’t her type.” 

Dave snorts, “yet you married one.” He is anxious now to get this reception over with so he can get you back to his home. He can’t wait to see you. All of you.

“It wasn’t as if I had a choice.” You remind him, pulling away and giving the excuse that you wanted your glass of champagne. While you were tossing the bouquet, you noticed a lot of your guests were well on their way to being drunk and it sounds like a perfect way to survive your wedding night. You don’t want to remember it. Tossing back your head, you down the rest of your champagne and motion to a waiter to take this glass and give you another.

Dave frowns, grabbing the glass before you can take it when the waiter returns. "Don't you think you've had enough?" He reprimands, setting the glass down on the nearby table then he grabs your hands. "Why are you trying to get drunk?"

You snort, annoyed that he has taken away the glass from you like a naughty child. “Perhaps I wanted some liquid courage, this is my first time.” You remind him, as if he had forgotten. “Forgive me if I just don’t trust that it will be an amazing experience.”

Dave feels himself get pissed at that. He reaches to grab your chin, making you look into his eyes. “Don’t you ever think that I am a selfish lover. Tonight, you might be losing your virginity but I will be good and make you cum. I want you to enjoy having sex with me. We need to have sex multiple times to make sure you’re pregnant, so why wouldn’t I make it good for you? Don’t ever fucking assume sweetheart. You’re done with the champagne. I want you to remember tonight.” He orders.

Your eyes prick with tears and you know that this - everything - is what Dave wants. If he wants you sober, he will have you sober. “Yes sir.” You hiss spitefully, furious that you have no say in anything in your life. You will be fucked regardless of your own wishes and get pregnant when he wants you to be. Your doctor’s appointment proved to him that you are indeed a virgin and fertile.

Dave caresses your cheek, leaning in to kiss your forehead despite you shoving lightly on his chest. “Go say your goodbyes. We are leaving.” He orders, stepping away from you to bid goodbye to the important people and he tells the wedding coordinator that you are leaving so the guests can see you off.

You stall as long as you can, making sure to make every person feel like they are special. You see Dave coming back over to where you are, going through his goodbyes much quicker and taking you by the elbow to hurry you along. You want to cry, but they will see that and you can’t have that. Instead you plaster a smile on your face as people file out of the hall, ready to shower you in bird seed before you climb into the car to take you back to Dave’s house.

Dave takes your hand and smiles as the bird seed is thrown over you, people clapping as he guides you to the car and helps you in before he slides in beside you. “You ready?” He asks. You don’t even look at him, staring out the window as the car pulls away. Dave sighs when you don’t respond, leaning back into the seat .

Your knees tremble, your nerves getting the best of you. You wonder how he is going to touch you. All the porn that you’ve watched is geared towards women and Dave - despite what he might say - is going to be concerned with his own pleasure. You don’t need to cum in order to get pregnant. “Why are we going home? Wouldn’t the hotel be more appropriate?”

Dave looks at you, a smile on his face, and he reaches out to stop your knee bouncing. “I wanted our baby to be conceived in my home, not my hotel. Plus…I don’t want any interruptions. I want it to be just us.” He removes his hand from your knee, looking back out of the window.

You bite your lip, even more nervous now that you know that you will be alone in the house. Often there are plenty of people roaming around but if Dave wants it empty, it will just be you. “How long are you having the house to ourselves?” You ask, trying to make it seem like you aren’t terrified.

“As long as I want.” He answers without looking over at you. He knows you’re nervous, can feel it in the air, but he won’t allow you to use that as an excuse. You are nervous of the unknown but he knows he can make you relax. He meant what he said. You need to enjoy sex with him and he wants to fuck you to get you pregnant. Once you’re pregnant, he’ll go back to his women. Not wanting even more attachments. The car pulls into his estate and he thanks the driver once the car has stopped, opening his own door and making his way around to open your door. 

For a split second, you consider jumping in the driver's seat and stealing the car. It’s completely ridiculous and it makes you snort, slightly panicked as Dave opens the door and holds out his hand for you to take. Swallowing, you let him guide you out of the car and into the house.

Dave unlocks the unusually quiet house and turns towards you. “I’ll go wait in my room for you. I’m sure you’ll want to get ready, freshen up.” He tells you, “I’m going to get a scotch. You want anything?“

“You don’t want me drunk.” You remind him as you turn towards the stairs without waiting to see what he has to say. You climb the stairs and sigh. You are going to strip out of the dress and put on the robe that you had bought with the lingerie. You know Dave will want to see what you are wearing underneath. Maybe after it’s over he will send you back to your room.

Dave ignores your sass and makes his way to his office, pouring himself a scotch, then he makes his way upstairs to his bedroom, leaving the double doors open so you can come in when you are ready. He didn’t want any staff in the house for this moment, his cock already half hard with the fact that he is going to be taking your innocence tonight.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of your bedroom and make your way down the hallway to Dave’s suite. The master suite was larger than yours and you pause when you see the doors are open in invitation. Making you swallow again before you slink into the doorway. Watching him stare out the window while he sips his scotch, you wonder if you will ever come to love the man you call husband.

Dave turns when he hears you enter his bedroom, feet bare and robe swaying around your ankles. He’s never seen a more angelic sight, especially since you are wearing virginal white. Your face is pinched but he shifts to sit down on the plush seat by the window. “Sit.” He orders, grabbing the chair to drag it in front of him. You frown, confused as you sit down in front of him. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, the scotch sloshing as he grips the glass. “Take your panties off and spread your legs. I want to see what I paid for.”

Your face burns and you close your eyes in utter humiliation. Swallowing again, you turn around, knowing you will have to unclip your stocking to slide your panties down. The fact that this man bought you is never more obvious than right now. Fingers shaking, you unclip the delicate clasps that keep your thigh highs up so you can do as he orders.

Dave watches you as you roll your thigh highs down after unclipping them and you seem to take a while but he doesn’t rush you. When you’re done, you reach up, hands shaking as you hook your fingers in your panties, lifting your hips so you can push them down to your ankles. You kick the lace aside and inhale deeply, face on fire as you open your legs to display your cunt. Dave’s eyes focus on your pussy, untouched and fucking perfect. “Christ.” He hisses, fingers flexing against the glass he’s holding. “Have you ever touched yourself, sweetheart?” He asks, voice raspy.

“Y-Yes.” Your voice is low and you wonder if he will be upset that you’ve touched yourself. Wondering if he wanted you completely innocent. “I’ve just- I’ve never  put more than a tampon inside me.” You admit quietly. You hadn’t ever wanted to stick your fingers inside yourself, but you had the standard doctor’s visits.

Dave’s nostrils flare as you confess you haven’t really touched yourself. “Have you ever made yourself cum?” He asks, sipping his scotch while keeping his eyes between your thighs, loving the thatch of curls above your pretty folds.

“I think so….” You whisper, your cheeks burning. “I- it felt really good.” You try to explain as you think about the times you had touched yourself in the dark. “It’s not like I’ve really…talked about this with anyone else. Not even my friends.”

“You will with me. I’m your husband. I want you to spread your folds for me, use your fingers to show me the pretty pussy that’s now mine.” He orders, shifting to set the glass of scotch down on the table beside his chair.

You bite your lip, shuddering slightly and taking a deep breath before you try to follow his orders. Fumbling for a moment before you pull your lips apart, your index finger pressing against your clit and you gasp and close your eyes so you don’t have to see him watching you.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” His voice lowers even more and you reluctantly open your eyes and look across the room. He tuts, shifting closer and he grips your chin to keep your eyes on his. “Keep looking at me.” He orders, licking his finger on his free hand and he brings it down to your clit, slowly rubbing the bundle of nerves.

Moaning quietly, your hips squirm, away from his touch or seeking it - you don’t really know. Not that Dave York would allow you to refuse his touch. Your eyes are watching his darken with desire. “Fuck.” You whimper quietly, shuddering when a burst of pleasure rushes through you.

He watches you as you whimper and he rubs your clit a little harder, wanting you to get wet enough for him to open you up a little. He releases your jaw, leaning in to kiss along it instead. “That feel good, baby?”

You can’t help but breathe out a little sigh of agreement. You bite your lip to try to keep from making too much noise. Even though it’s not like the house isn’t empty.

“Good. Wanna make you feel good. Wanna make this pussy mine in every way.” He rubs your clit, wanting you to cum like this before he starts to open you up for his cock. He doesn’t want you to be in a lot of pain. His cock is hard in his pants but he doesn’t adjust himself, wanting to focus on you.

Keeping your eyes on him, his fingers make your hips start to move again. Rolling against his hand on instinct and your own moans getting louder. Watching the pride bloom across his face and your breathing speeding up.

“Good girl.” He coos, needing you to cum, so he rubs your clit a little harder. Loving how you are already so responsive. “Want you to cum for me. Want that pussy weeping for my cock.” He tells you, pressing his lips to your jaw again.

The feeling of his mouth on your jaw makes you fall over the edge. Crying out loudly, you feel your entire body tense up. You’ve felt that before but not nearly as intense as what you have been able to do. Feeling your cunt start to clench down around nothing.

Dave fucking loves watching you cum. Already addicted to it. He rubs your clit to work you through it for a moment then he slides his finger lower, circling your entrance and he slowly pushes his finger into you.

“D-Dave.” You gasp out his name, feeling his fingers start to push inside you. It feels foreign and fantastic. “I- oh god.” You moan, reaching down and grabbing his wrist. You don’t know if you want him to stop but you need to touch him. Wishing you had something more than just being married between you.

He pauses, watching you to see if you wanted him to stop but you don’t. He continues, pushing his finger into you, groaning at how fucking tight you are. “Jesus. I’m gonna have to work you open. You’ll never take my cock otherwise.” He murmurs, pumping his finger in and out of you.

Cheeks burning, you whimper at the way he talks to you. It’s different than being talked to by men hitting on you, you would never have let them touch you. But this man is touching you. He’s your husband. “Just-“ you bite off the order to tell him to get it over with as you moan again, his fingers curling up and pressing against something wonderful inside you.

"There it is, baby." He murmurs, pleased you are moaning and relaxing. He works his finger into you, curling it into that spot and he adds a second finger, wanting to slowly open you up. "This okay?" He asks, pumping his finger a little deeper on each movement, his dark eyes. watching your face.

“I- don’t stop.” You had meant to tell him that it didn’t matter if it was okay. That he had bought you and this was what he wanted. Instead you beg him not to stop, but it feels so good. Your eyes flutter every time he pushes his fingers deeper and you moan his name quietly.

Dave wants to make this good for you. He scissors his fingers, working you open even more and he curls them. His thumb pressed against your clit. He wants you to cum on his fingers, he wants to see you fall over the edge again. “Cum for me baby. Cum again.”

The way he orders you around should piss you off. But it doesn’t help that his tone is low and raspy, helping that fire in your belly burn brighter. It only takes a few more pumps of his fingers and you are crying out again, this time your walls squeezing his fingers while you try to grind down on them as much as you can with your legs draped over the arms of the chair.

Dave hums in delight, working you through it and he shifts off of his chair, withdrawing his fingers and he kneels in front of you. “My beautiful bride.” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh, his dark eyes looking up at you as he kisses along the sensitive skin until his tongue slides through your folds, groaning at your tangy taste.

His words makes your traitorous heart leap in your chest. Right before your entire body turns to melted wax at the touch of his tongue to your cunt. You never expected him to do something like this. Your head drops back against the chair and you moan out his name again. “Oh Dave, oh shit.”

Dave caresses your thighs, squeezing the flesh while his tongue flicks your clit. He loves how you taste, knowing that he isn’t the type of man to go down on women but this is your wedding night, your first time. He wants this to be special for you. His tongue delves into your tight pussy, curling and he shifts closer to press his nose to your clit.

Whining is definitely not a sound you thought you would make during this, but you are. Loudly and enthusiastically while you experience something that you’ve only read about or watched. It is as good as everyone says and your hand reaches for the back of his head and your fingers tangle into his hair to hold onto.

Your whine is music to his ears, his tongue delving deeper, and he shakes his head so his nose rubs your clit. One of his hands slide up your body, cupping your lace clad breast, pinching your nipple through the material while his tongue curls deep in your cunt.

You whimper from the pressure against your clit and give a soft cry at the surprise of his tongue piercing into you. Making you shudder and rock your hips. It feels strange, but not unpleasant, but his nose against your clit feels amazing.

He needs you to cum one more time. His hand sliding higher to take over from his nose, his thumb rubbing your clit while his tongue keeps curling deep inside of you. He loves how you taste, mixed with the scotch he’d been drinking, you’re a fucking treat.

Your eyes slip closed again, not to keep from looking at Dave, but because the pleasure is starting to get to be too much. One hand in his hair and the other clawing at the chair, you feel your body start to shake again. Crying out as the rush of heat spreads through your core and you hear Dave groan into you.

He loves hearing you cum. It’s music to his ears, and he works you through it, his tongue lapping up every drop of your cum. He smacks his lips when you push his head away when it becomes too much, and he kisses your thigh while you come back down from your orgasm.

Panting softly, you try not to jump when Dave’s hand squeezes your breast again. “Get up, sweetheart.” He orders. “We are moving to the bed so I can strip you down.” Your stomach flips and you nod, moving so you can stand after Dave rocks back away from you.

He helps you over to the bed, his lips pressing against your jaw as he reaches around you to unclasp your bra. You whimper and he chuckles against your neck as he drags the straps down and steps back to look at your tits. “Fucking perfect. Shit. I can’t wait until those are full of milk.” He groans and reaches out to squeeze your breast.

You shudder and look away, fully aware that his plan for you includes being pregnant just as soon as possible. Swallowing, you stand in only your garter belt, letting him touch you how he wants. Your breathing is shallow, almost panting but it’s mainly from being nervous.

Dave wants you completely naked, so his hands slide down to unclasp the garter belt, tossing it aside so he can see every single inch of you. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He groans, cock now throbbing and he reaches up to tug on his bow tie, starting to undress himself

Laying down on the bed, you try to keep your eyes off of him but you are curious as to what your husband looks like. After all, this is the man that you are married to, the man whose children you will bear. Biting your lip, you watch him strip off his shirt after removing the cuff links and unbuttoning it. You wonder if the other women he slept with anticipated sex while watching him undress or if they were merely giddy about the things he could offer them. Right now, you feel like you are going to be sick. 

Dave takes his time to strip off, setting his clothes over the back of the chair you had soaked. He finally gets down to his briefs and pushes them down, allowing you to see his hard cock for the first time. The first cock you’ve ever seen and if he has his way, the last one you’ll ever see.

“God.” Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of Dave’s heavy, thick cock. You’ve only ever seen one in a porn and it looks a lot more intimidating in person. “I- I don-don’t know.” You stammer, sitting up and shaking your head. “It- that is - oh God.”

Dave can’t help but feel a little smug at your reaction but he won’t let you get too anxious. He shifts to kneel on the bed, grabbing your waist to lift you up onto the pillows and he kneels between your thighs. “It’s gonna fit baby. Don’t worry.” He slides his hand along your thigh before pushing two thick digits into you. “It’s gonna hurt for a moment but then it’s gonna be good.” He promises, curling his fingers until he withdraws them, shifting to position his cock at your entrance. He slowly pushes in, just the head, and gives you a moment.

You gasp and your eyes close, turning your head away. “Look at me.” Dave huffs, gripping your chin lightly and turning you back towards him. You want to refuse him, but you shouldn’t. His lips slide over yours softly and you whimper again, opening your eyes to look up into his dark ones. It feels different, but he doesn’t hurt you and your walls clench around him experimentally.

He pushes deeper into you. You’re so fucking tight and the fact that you are completely his has his ready to cum but he doesn’t, wanting to savor this moment. He pushes deeper, rocking his hips to work you open. “Relax.” He orders, feeling how tense you are beneath him.

You try, gripping the sheets under you as you try to force your body to relax. It’s impossible though. It’s pinching slightly and it’s nothing like you had imagined. No soft, loving words or whispers of adoration. You get the feeling that he’s being more gentle than he normally is, but there no love in this. You choke back a sob and try to remind yourself that he promised you that it would be okay.

Dave caresses your side as he pushes into you, wincing when you gasp at the final push to seat him fully inside of your tight, wet cunt. “Oh fuck.” He groans, trying to control himself while he presses his forehead to yours. “You’re so perfect. So fucking perfect and all mine.” He rasps, slowly rocking his hips now that you seem to relax beneath him.

You take deep breaths, trying to focus on the way that he feels inside you. His body is hovering over yours and you feel the slow grind of his hips. Your body seems to know what to do, your walls fluttering around him and squeezing down on him every time he pushes deeper when he pulls his hips back. “Yours.” You gasp out, knowing that you are his.

He fucking loves hearing you say it. He grabs your hand, lifting it above your head so he can admire the beautiful rings on your finger that display the fact that you are his. He grinds deep, rocking his hips, and when he thinks about getting you knocked up on this first time, he loses it. With a low groan, he cums. Painting your walls with his seed.

You feel the heat, hearing him groan and stiffen over you. He’s cum. Closing your eyes, the tears squeeze out and you turn your head away while his face is buried in your neck while he continues to rock into you. It’s over. He’s taken your virginity and possibly filled you with his baby. Making your heart ache knowing that there is no way you can ever tell your future child that you created them with love.

Dave grunts as he finishes rocking inside of you, kissing your neck. "God that was good. Sorry you didn't cum. Next time." He promises, shifting to pull out of you. "I'll clean you up then I gotta go to my office and do some work. You should get some sleep." He says, shifting off of the bed to walk into his bathroom, wetting a rag and carrying it back in.

You cringe and try not to flinch when he wipes you clean with efficient swipes of his rag over your cunt. Disappearing back into his bathroom while you lay there for a moment before you bolt off the bed. If his room is like yours, the closet is inside the bathroom and you hurriedly gather your lingerie and the robe before you rush out of the room for the safety of your own room, trying to hold back the tears.

****

Dave never came into your room. You had cried and then soaked in a bath after you had calmed down. You were stuck in this, it was too late to regret it and there was nothing that you could do change it. You just have to make the best of it, but it hurts to know that he hadn’t even cared enough to come to you after he had finished his work. He was probably glad you left his room, his dismissal clear from his attitude. Dressing quickly, you slip out of your room, eager to eat something and hopefully make it back before Dave ever woke up.

**** 

Dave looks up as you enter his office, tears in your eyes as you avoid looking at him, and he frowns. You look relieved. "What's wrong?" He huffs, not having time for dramatics. "I got my period." Dave sighs, knowing that it would take more than one fuck to knock you up. Since hearing you cry, he left you alone, but he needs to fuck you again. "When your period ends, we will have sex until you are pregnant. I want you to track your fertility. I will have the doctor help you to ensure you are pregnant before your next period." He says before turning back to his computer. The discussion is over.

You stare at him for a moment and huff. “Maybe you should get checked by a doctor.” You hate the way that he is just dismissing you. It’s obvious that you are nothing more than his little pet. The virgin (not anymore) bride to keep to breed his spawn. “You should get tested, that way if you are sterile, I don’t have to endure being in your bed.” You hiss before you turn around and stalk out of his office, angry at the bastard now.

Dave rolls his eyes. He had already been tested. He knows he is fertile. He’s a man who lives for the details. He tries to keep away from you, knowing you hate him. He doesn’t need you to love him, he just needs you to have his child. 

****

“Don’t forget we have the charity dinner tonight. I am having Manuel come over to do your hair and makeup. Theres a new dress hanging up in your closet.” He says while he eats his breakfast opposite you.

“Whatever you need.” You answer, poking at your own breakfast. You aren’t very hungry, it’s been days since the scene in his office and he has barely spoken to you. The house stays quiet and you hate it. “I will be ready when you need me to be.” You finished your menstrual cycle last night and you are hoping to get a few more days before he makes you come to his room.

“Tonight. I want to fuck you so be ready for it.” He says like he’s discussing the weather. “We will need to have sex every night until you are pregnant.” He declares, not willing to negotiate. This isn’t a negotiation and he wants to show you off tonight. His beautiful wife.

“Of course.” Your jaw clenches slightly but you don’t say anything else. You are just his brood mare and the sooner he gets you pregnant, the sooner he will leave you alone. There’s nothing between the two of you beyond the fact that you are married. “Anything else?”

“Make sure you don’t have this attitude tonight. I need to make sure no one questions this marriage. I need my associates to believe you at least like me.” He can’t say he isn’t bothered by how much you hate him but he can understand. “I didn’t pay for you to hate me.” He quips as he sets his coffee cup down, looking at you.

“Hard to like someone I don’t know.” You mutter under your breath and narrow your eyes at him before you change into a bright sunny smile and look adoringly at him. “Is this better, honey?” You coo mockingly, knowing he he could care less about how you actually feel about him. He’s made that clear.

Dave shakes his head, grabbing your hand. “Don’t mock me sweetheart. You might not want to be married to me but you don’t want to know what I’m capable of. I can break you down. I can destroy you. Destroy your father. Don’t ever fucking forget that.” He squeezes your hand before he lets go and stands up. “Be ready for six.” He orders then strides out of the room.

“I fucking hate you.” You hiss quietly, tears forming again and you feel completely alone even though you know that there are people around. 

****

At six, you are ready. His stylist had come to fix your hair and makeup. It was flawless and the dress that had been picked out was stunning. You would be the Belle of any ball, although you would not be on Prince Charming’s arm. After breakfast, you had walked outside for hours, talking to yourself before you had gone into the kitchen and started baking. Muffins, cookies, and cakes were all piled up on the counters as you thought about your dilemma. You decided that while you would never love Dave, you wouldn’t fight him anymore. It wasn’t doing you any good. So tonight, you were going to be the perfect dress up doll. Give him exactly what he paid for.

Dave adjusts his bow tie, making his way to the foyer to wait for you. The car is ready and he is anxious to see what you look like in the dress he had picked out. When you appear, walking down the stairs, his cock twitches and he holds his hand out. “You look gorgeous sweetheart. Perfect.” He kisses your cheek and is surprised when you don’t wince. “Come on, let’s get in the car. The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave.” He’s excited to strip the dress off of you.

You hum in agreement and let Dave escort you out to the waiting car. Thanking him as he helps you in and closes the door behind you before he climbs in on the other side. “I asked the stylist to do my makeup in a way that you preferred.” You offer by way of conversation. “Which charity event is this tonight?”

“Who the fuck knows? Probably something to do with orphan children. Or animals. I don’t know. I just show up, write a check, smile for some photos and leave. I get sick and tired of these events. My parents used to drag me to them constantly. We will go, give the check, have a dance, and come home so I can fuck you. Your period is over?” He asks for confirmation.

“Yes.” Apparently charity work isn’t his favorite thing. But you remember that his parents died while attending an event such as this. “It ended last night. They don’t last long.” You aren’t going to lie to him, knowing it’s useless to do so. “So don’t plan on making small talk, good to know.”

Dave looks out of the window, watching D.C pass by until the car pulls up to one of the hotels. Not one of his. He sighs as the door is opened and Dave helps you out, wrapping his arm around your waist as he guides you into the hotel and to the ballroom. “You do look beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest man in this entire place.” He tells you as he notices the stares of other men.

You flash Dave a smile, one meant to show everyone that he was the best man in the room in your eyes. “Thank you, honey.” You reach up and smooth the lapels of his tuxedo. “I have to make sure that I am suitable for the most powerful man here.” You coo, knowing others will hear and spread gossip about how Dave York’s wife simpers over him.

He grins, loving how you coo over him and he leans forward to press his lips to yours, claiming you in front of every men and woman who dares to desire what belongs to him. His hands slide down to almost grab your ass, his tongue dipping into your mouth before he pulls back and kisses your lips once more. “Let’s get a drink and drop off the damn check.”

You are going to have to get used to the way Dave operates. He can just turn off the charm like a switch, blowing hot and cold so much that you are reeling from that kiss. Instead of protesting, you tuck your hand around his arm and lean into his side like the dutiful wife, determined to make sure he has nothing to complain about tonight.

Dave guides you over to the host of this evening. Some old politicians wife who loves to throw a party and call it a fundraiser. Dave knows they pocket a large chunk of money but doesn’t dispute it as long as they vote the way he wants them to when it comes time. “Janice. How are you?” Dave charms the old woman who kisses his cheek, leaving her old fashioned lip color on his skin. “Wonderful Dave. How are you? Is this your new bride? Our invite to the wedding must’ve gotten lost.” Janice offers you a fake smile. Dave chuckles, just as insincere. “It was an intimate wedding.” Janice snorts, “with most of D.C in attendance.” Dave wants to roll his eyes but he offers her a charming smile and hands her the check. “Here’s my donation. Now, I am going to take my wife on the dance floor.”

Dave guides you away before you can do more than smile and nod to the older woman. “Should they have been invited?” You ask, knowing Dave had produced the list of people attending beyond those you wanted to come.

“No.” Dave scoffs as he strides out to the middle of the floor with you on his arm. “Her husband won’t be re-elected next year.” He tells you confidently before he pulls you against him.

“Oh.” Your hand slides up to wipe away the woman’s lipstick off his cheek. “Then I won’t worry about it.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it. These people think they run the show but they don’t. The man who has the money runs the show…me. I won’t let these sneaky fuckers ruin my business, my country. I control their asses with my money so she can bitch all she wants but her and her husband are of no use to me.” He loves the way you wiped the lipstick from his cheek. “I hate that shade. Like your lipstick more.” He murmurs, his eyes dipping down to your lips.

“It goes with the dress you picked.” You fluster slightly, even with your feelings towards your husband not the best, he was very handsome and it is disconcerting to have his attention on your mouth. “I assume it was you. And thank you, it’s gorgeous.” He does provide many expensive things and you know he could make you pay for them if he wanted to.

Dave smiles, starting to move you around the dance floor. “You’re gorgeous. Every man in here wishes he was me. I am so proud to have you as my wife. When you’re pregnant…Christ, you’re gonna be the most incredible woman in this town.” He promises. “I know…I know you hate me but I do want you to be happy with me. I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

“I don’t….hate you.” You turn your head and look across the dance floor, noticing a lot of eyes on the two of you. Photographers are snapping photos and you know it will end up in the society section of the newspaper. “I don’t know you.” You turn back towards your husband. “I just - I wish that it wouldn’t seem like a business deal.” You confess. “Why do you want me pregnant so badly?”

Dave sighs, his hand caressing your back as he turns you away from the photographers. “I-” Before he can answer you, his name is called and he turns his head to see old Oliver Platt. One of his father’s associates who has since retired to allow his son to take over. Dave continues dancing with you as Oliver guides his wife over, swaying her to the music.

“How are you, son? This is your beautiful bride we have heard so much about from everyone.” Oliver beams and Dave nods, offering the old man a smile before introducing you. “She’s gorgeous. Your old man would’ve been proud of you, ya know. Always said he couldn’t wait to see you married with kids of your own, running the show. Look at you now.”

Dave’s smile falters but remains in his face. “It’s good to see you sir.” Dave offers him with respect, his heart aching, and Oliver winks at you.

“You got a good man there. Look after him.” He orders then dances his wife to another associate.

Dave stares at a blank spot across the room for a moment until his dark eyes come back to you. “To answer your question….I want a child because I don’t have a family. My parents are dead. I have no siblings. No aunts and uncles or cousins. My grandparents are dead. It’s been just me for long and I want a family to protect and who loves me for who I really am. Not just what I can give them. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” He knows he sounds vulnerable and he avoids that at all cost but right now, you’re his wife and he trusts you. Even if you do hate him.

Your heart aches for Dave, knowing that admitting that must have been very hard for him. He’s not a man who likes to expose weaknesses. He’s lonely, a feeling you can understand and relate to. Your own life was lonely and filled with worry about your father for so long. Maybe this could be a fresh start for the two of you. Taking a deep breath and deciding that you will make the first move, you lean in and press your lips to his. It’s a gentle kiss, more comforting than passionate but you know it catches him off guard. “Take me home, Dave.” You ask him softly, accepting that you are going to willingly go to his bed until you are carrying the beginning of the family he wants.

Dave is shocked by the soft kiss and your words, certain that you loathe him, but here you are, looking at him like that and asking him to take you home. He nods, reaching for your hand, and he doesn't bid goodbye to anyone as he guides you through the ballroom and out to his awaiting car. He wants to touch you, to kiss you, to make you moan his name. He wants you to want him. When you're in the car and driving home, he shifts closer to you, kissing your neck, the scent of your perfume driving him crazy. "I want to fuck you." He groans, his hand on your thigh where the dress slits to expose your skin.

“That’s why we are going home.” You remind him breathlessly. His lips on your skin makes your pulse jump and you know that your attraction to Dave isn’t linked to your heart. It makes you sad, but you push away the thought. “Or we can fuck right here.” You offer, taking his hand and sliding it up further. “I’m not wearing anything under this dress.” You reveal.

Dave groans at the feel of your bare pussy. Wet but not wet enough for him to fuck you. He kisses your neck again, biting down on the sensitive skin, and he slides his fingers through your folds until he finds your clit. "Want you to cum on my fingers first." He murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly.

You are biting back a soft moan, closing your eyes as his fingers work over your sensitive skin. Whatever else can be said about Dave, he doesn’t mind touching you. You know enough about men that most would have already been pulling their cock out and getting ready to slide inside you. “Dave.” You whimper, knowing that he won’t stop until you are cumming for him. 

Your whimper has him hard as a fucking rock and eager to make you whimper his name again. He rubs your clit a little harder, remembering what you liked before, and he groans when your hips buck into his hand. "Stay still." He orders, kissing along your jaw. "You looked so beautiful tonight. Every man in there wanted to fuck you but they can't because you're mine. Only I get to touch this pussy. Only I get to make you cum."

He loves to remind himself and you that you are his. But instead of rolling your eyes or making some kind of snarky comment, you give another soft moan. “Yes you do.” You agree breathlessly. “Make me cum. I want to feel good, Dave.” You reach up to stroke his cheek and turn your lips to his. 

He groans into your mouth, tongue immediately plunging in to caress yours, and he slides his fingers lower to push two thick digits into your tight cunt, his thumb pressing against your clit. "So wet for me." He murmurs, loving how wet you've become, and he begins to pump his digits in and out of you.

In a move that is shocking to even you, you push your dress up to your hips and move to straddle your husband. Your neck is bent down so you don’t hit the top of the car but you don’t care. For the first time since you had married Dave, you want this. Maybe it’s pity, or acceptance, you aren’t sure - but you want to have sex with Dave, and you grind down on his fingers shamelessly. 

Dave is shocked at your sudden move and he is fucking hard as a rock, his fingers pushing deep into you as he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours. He curls his fingers, his covered cock pressing against your thigh.

The kiss becomes heated, frantic and your hands move from his shoulders where you were holding them for stability, to his hair. Tangling into his locks and tearing apart the carefully styled look that portrayed his power and status. You tug on it, moaning into his mouth when his other hand grips your hip even harder and his fingers push a bit harder into your cunt. “Dave.” You pull away from his lips and your teeth nip down his jaw. “Can I- can I touch you?” 

"Yes. Yes. You can touch me." Dave permits and you reach down to work on unbuckling his belt. "Eager, are we sweetheart?" He teases, making you huff until he curls his fingers just right to make you moan and grind down onto his digits. "That's it baby. Want you to cum for me."

You squeeze his cock, not too rough, but you grin when you are rewarded with a quiet moan from your husband. “I want to-“ you break off, embarrassed by the thought you had of kneeling down and sucking his cock in the back of the car. “You know.”

"Jesus. You never have to ask if you want to do that, sweetheart." He promises, "but you need to let me cum inside of you. Not down that pretty little throat." He orders, withdrawing his fingers to help you release his cock from his pants.

“Okay.” Nervous, you slide off his lap and kneel between his spread thighs. Looking up at his dark eyes and then back down at his cock. Your fingers wrap around him again and you give him and experimental pump. “I’ve never done this before.” You confess, aware that he knows this. “I don’t know if I’ll be as good as the other women you have.” You don’t say more, not wanting to anger him so you lean forward and take the tip in your mouth.

Dave's retort that you are his wife so this will automatically be better dies on his lips and he groans at the way your lips look wrapped around the head of his cock. "Jesus baby. You look so pretty." He hisses when you experimentally take him deeper. "Do what you want. I can guide you but I want you to do what feels right."

Surprised that you aren’t being urged to take him deeper, you do just that. Realizing that Dave has done nothing but make sure that you aren’t hurt during sex or that you are ready for him has you dripping. He might not love you, but he cares about you in his own way. You know that other women aren’t given the same courtesy instinctively. Moaning around him, you squeeze the base and give him a gentle suck. 

"Shit. You are a natural." Dave hisses, watching you as you experiment with his cock. "Such a good girl. Such a perfect wife. You are doing a good job. Taking my cock in that pretty little mouth. You gonna do what you want to me?" He rambles, glad the driver is paid to keep quiet.

You hum, feeling powerful as you feel your husband’s control slipping. Right now you are in control and you feel like you could tell him to do anything and he would. Instead of testing that theory, you think about all of the things you had read and watched, pulling off of him again to kiss the tip and kitten lick it before you take him deeper again. Pushing him to the back of your throat, right before you gag and you slide a hand down to gently explore his balls. 

"Careful. Don't - shit - don't hurt yourself." Dave orders, reaching down to cup your cheek despite the urge to thrust down your throat. He won't hurt you, won't add that sin to the neverending list of reasons why you hate him. "Shit. You are a dirty girl, aren't you? Where - fuck - did you learn this?" He pants.

Satisfied that you are pleasing him, you pull off his cock with a smirk. “I might have been a virgin, but I still read and watched porn.” You admit, rolling his balls around in your palm and your other hand slowly jerks off the base of his cock. “Plus, I love eating bananas.” You tease before you lower your head again and take him back into your mouth.

Dave's cock twitches inside of your mouth and he lets you bob your head a few more times until he grabs the back of your neck to drag you off of his cock. Reaching for you, he pulls you up into his lap. "You're gonna tell me what you read and watched while you ride my cock." He says, reaching between you to grip his cock and he checks you're wet enough before notching the head at your entrance, groaning at how hot and wet you are as he thrusts up into you while pulling you down.

“Dave!” You cry out as he stretches you. There isn’t the pain that there had been the last time, but you feel him just as vividly. Instead of trying to squirm away, you grind down on him, your head falling forward onto his shoulder while he grabs your hips. “I- I don’t know all the porns.” You admit breathlessly. “A website. Bellesa House.” You whimper when you pull your hips up by bracing your knees on the seat and then quickly sink back down on him. “B-books are in my- my room.” 

“What do you want? What have you seen in the porn or read in the books that you want done to you? Or to do?” He asks, his voice low and raspy as he tries to control himself. You are so tight. He grabs your ass, helping to guide you as you rock on his cock.

“I want- I want you to cum down my throat.” You know he won’t, not this time. But you want to taste more than the salty spurt of his pre-cum. Dave groans, and you think he’s going to say no, but you keep talking. “I- I want to be- to be taken from behind.” You admit, cheeks burning as you try to voice what you had seen. It had turned you on and you imagined being fucked like that but you couldn’t imagine it realistically. 

He loves hearing you talk like this. “Not so innocent. That sweet little virgin rubbing her clit while thinking of swallowing cum and getting fucked from behind. What a little whore.” He teases, kissing your neck. “We can do that. Just want you pregnant. You can swallow my cum after you’re pregnant. I can fuck you from behind when we get home. I want you to ride me now. Cum before we get home.” He smacks your ass.

Squealing, you move a little faster on his lap. Bouncing on his cock unsteadily before you start finding that natural rhythm that makes it feel so good. “Dave.” You moan softly, ducking your head down and biting his bottom lip. “Slap my ass again.” You demand, enjoying the sting so much more than you thought you would have. 

He obliges you, slapping your ass again, and he hisses when your walls clamp down on him. "So beautiful." He murmurs, kissing your chest and he reaches up to tug on the gown, breaking the strap so he can pull it down and wrap his lips around your nipple, biting down on it.

You whine, having played with your nipples before, but Dave hadn’t sucked on the first for long. It makes you clench down around him again and roll your hips fast. “Oh god.” You whimper, making him chuckle. “Not God baby, your husband.” He corrects you and you tug on his hair harder. Pulling him towards your breasts more. “Fuck.” You gasp out, not even worried about the driver up front, too engrossed in the way that he is making you feel. 

To see his previously virginal wife ride his cock like a pro and moan like a whore, it has him ready to cum. You are a fucking angel and devil combined in one beautiful package and he knows in this moment that he has made the right choice. It would be easy to love you but he won't allow himself. Love gets people killed and he won't do it. He switches to your other breast, ripping the other strap of the expensive gown and he groans when your walls flutter around his length.

“Fill me up.” You gasp out, feeling your cunt start to clench down around it. It’s dirty sounding, filthy - but right now it sounds like the sexiest thing ever. “P-please Dave.” You beg, grinding down on him as your hips stutter. “Fill me up, want to feel it.” 

Dave wants you to cum first, you haven't cum from penetration. He clenches his jaw, willing himself to hold off from cumming, and he reaches between you to rub your clit. "Cum first baby. Need to feel you soak my cock."

It only takes a few more rolls of your hips before you are crying out. You stiffen in his arms, your walls shaking around his length and you feel the hot rush of pleasure flood your core and hear the squelch the next time you slide up on his cock. 

Dave loves seeing you cum, the way your mouth opens and your brow furrows, it's fucking art. He lets himself go, grabbing your hips to pull you down onto his cock, pushing into your tight walls before painting them with his hot seed, a low groan escaping his lips while he buries his face in your neck.

This time, you don’t cry. Instead, you drop your cheek onto his shoulder and sigh, trying to catch your breath. “Oh wow.” Giggling, you can’t believe that you just fucked your husband in the back of the car. Feeling free and slightly thrilled about that. Feeling him throb and your walls randomly flutter around him as you both relax. 

Dave kisses you softly, praying that you just got pregnant, but he knows it’s unlikely since you aren’t ovulating. He sighs and shifts you off of him, grabbing his handkerchief to clean you up and he just straightens himself up as the car pulls up to the house. He can’t allow himself to be fully invested in this marriage. Love causes distractions which cause mistakes which ultimately lead to death. He refuses to be his parents. Getting out of the car, Dave helps you out and you lean against him until you’re inside. “I have work to do.” He declares, gently pushing you away.

You stare at him for a moment, unable to believe after that he is pushing you away. “Okay.” You watch him walk away as you hold onto the straps of your gown. He obviously wants a family that he can pay attention to at his leisure. When he decides that he wants to give you more attention, you will have a headache.

Dave sighs, shutting down his computer, and he knows you hate him but what can he do? It’s better this way. The less attachment the better. Especially when you demand a divorce. You wouldn’t want to stay married to a man like him. Dave bites his lip and remembers the way you felt around him and his cock twitches. “Fuck.” He groans, rubbing his thighs, and he stands up, malign his way to your room. “Sweetheart. Can I come in?”

You had been reading when your door knob turned before the lock stopped him from opening it. Huffing, you set aside your book and stand. After he had left you, you had taken a bath and changed into your sleep clothes. Walking over to the door, you fling it open. “No.” You state firmly. “You cannot. I- I don’t understand you. You blow so hot and cold and I’m not putting up with it.” You tell him. “We have a fantastic time in the limo and then you just push me aside. I’m your wife, not some whore you fuck in that hotel room.” Tears gather in your eyes but you ignore them. “You want to treat me this way? Fine. Your sex for the day is already accomplished. There’s no need for you to come inside or touch me again tonight.”

Dave wants to push past you and enter your room but something inside of him tells him that it will do damage to your somewhat reasonable relationship. Dave slams his hand on the door frame, leaning in slightly. “Fine. I’ll go to the hotel and find one of those whores if my wife won’t let me fuck her.” He growls, pissed off at you for thinking he’s cold when you are like the damn arctic. “I won’t touch you tonight. I’ll touch someone else. Enjoy your evening…sweetheart.” He adds sarcastically and stalks downstairs, calling for his driver to take him to the hotel.

You swallow, heart plummeting as you hear him slam the front door of the large house and you are left with the ringing silence. You have lost this round. He doesn’t care enough about you to even hide the fact that he wouldn’t be faithful to you. Tears in your eyes, you start walking down the hall towards the kitchen. It’s not like you will be able to read your book tonight while you listen for him to come back. You might as well do some baking. Maybe you would drop off treats for some of the local food banks or soup kitchens around the city. Something to make you feel better than you do right now.

Dave enters his home, pissed because he couldn’t bring himself to fuck another woman. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to risk catching something and passing it onto you and therefore a baby, but in reality he couldn’t do it. He stalks into the house and he frowns when he walks in to the kitchen to find you baking. “What’s all this?” He gestures to the cupcakes and muffins and cookies covering the countertops.

“Baking.” You answer as you turn around to slide another tray of muffins into the oven. “I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep, so I decided to be productive.” You turn around and take the oven mitt off before you look over at him standing in the kitchen doorway. “I’m planning on taking them to the soup kitchens and orphanages tomorrow. Give them a treat and credit the York family.” You are surprised he’s home, having anticipated him to be gone all night rather than a few hours. “Was your night to your satisfaction?” You ask politely.

Dave is taken back by how kind you truly are. He knew that before he married you but for you to bake cookies for orphans? Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking angel. You deserve to be treated as such. “No. I am not satisfied because my wife wouldn’t let me touch her. I spent the entire night imagining spreading her legs and burying my tongue in her cunt but I couldn’t do that because she barred me from her room.” He steps closer to you.

“You didn’t find someone else’s pussy to lick?” You ask with an attitude and Dave chuckles.

“No one else’s pussy seems to do it for me now. Tell me to stop.” He orders, his fingers trailing along your arms and he spins you around. “Tell me to stop and I won’t put you on the counter and bury my tongue in your sweet cunt.”

“Stop pushing me away the second you finish with me.” Your demand, looking into his eyes and then at his lips. His tongue is good, even as inexperienced as you are, you know that. “I just want to feel like I’m more than a trophy and brood mare for you.”

“What do you want from me? I can’t give you love. I know you want it but I can’t - I can’t love you. I can give you anything else in this world. I am a killer, a cold bastard who doesn’t even know how to cuddle. Can’t you accept me as I am?” He pleads, looking into your eyes.

Your heart breaks, hearing that he will never love you. At least it’s honest, and that’s a start. “I want faithfulness.” You admit. “I- you won’t love me, I’ll- I’ll accept that.” Your voice wavers slightly but you continue on. “Just- when we are done, talk to me. Even if it’s about your work. Share it with me. A marriage is supposed to be a partnership, so share your burdens with me.”

He nods, reaching for your hands. “I can do that.” He promises, squeezing your hands. He knows he should work on his aftercare. “I can be faithful to you, I don’t - your pussy has honestly ruined any other for me.” He admits, blushing a little.

You snort and lift a brow, not quite believing him. “It’s because it’s a new toy.” You remind him. “I’m sure you won’t feel the same way when I’m fat and unattractive carrying that child you want.” You reach up and poke him in the chest. “Speaking of - you may not be able to love me - but our children will never know that their father doesn’t believe they hung the moon.” You tell him fiercely. “They will brag to their friends that they have the best dad in the world.”

Dave chuckles at your ferocity, it’s sexy and admirable. “I’m sure they will tell everyone their mama is the best in the world more than me. You’ll be an amazing mother. I can’t wait to witness it.” His hand slides down to your stomach, wishing you were already pregnant. “Besides, I think you’ll be the most beautiful pregnant woman. I think I’ll want to worship you.” He murmurs, his cold heart thumping when you offer him a bashful smile. “Now, are you gonna let me lick that pretty pussy?” He hums, kissing the side of your head.

“You really didn’t touch someone else?” You ask quietly, looking at him solemnly and Dave shakes his head.

“I didn’t.” He promises you, making you lunge forward and press your lips to his. Your marriage is tumultuous and there have been some hard feelings, but you want this to work, because you are his. Yes, it will hurt that he will never love you, but you will worry about that later.

Dave groans at how eager you are, his hands squeezing your ass until he grabs your thighs, managing to lift you onto the countertop that is covered in flour. He reaches for your shorts, dragging them down your legs along with your panties until he pushes them apart. “Best fucking pussy in D.C.” He growls before he dives in, sliding his tongue through your folds.

You giggle at his actions, plopping you down into flour without a care. “I- you only have ten more minutes Dave.” You tease, looking over at the timer on the counter top. “Think you can make me cum that quickly?”

Dave pulls back to smirk at you, “please baby. I’ll have you cumming in seven.” He dives back in, sucking your clit into his mouth and he has never been a man to give oral unless he’s going to receive too but fuck, you’re so sweet. Just like you, sweet and a little sour. He loves it. His tongue flicks over your clit and his finger circles your entrance before he pushes it inside of you.

“Cheater!” You gasp, tangling your fingers into his hair and sliding down the counter, pushing some of the flour onto the floor. “N-not f-fair to use your fin-gers.” You pant out, smirking the entire time. You love the smirk he had given you and the playfulness in his tone. That is what you want from him.

Dave chuckles at your protest but suck’s your clit into his mouth. He never said he plays fair. He always gets what he wants and that will be him making you cum in less than seven minutes. He pushes another finger into your cunt, curling them before he resumes sucking your clit.

You whimper, whine and moan your way closer to an orgasm. Every suck if his mouth is paired with a curling of his fingers and you are just barreling closer to falling apart every second he is touching you. Rocking your hips again this face, you lean against the cabinets and moan out his name, hoping the housekeeper doesn’t come into the kitchen.

You cry out, pulling at his hair while your entire body bows up and you start to cum. Flooding his fingers with your release and your thighs close around his head. “Dave!” You cry out in pleasure.

He hums, making your thighs shake, and he works you through it, loving the way you cry out his name. He pumps his fingers a few times until he withdraws them, sticking them into his mouth to clean them up while your chest heaves as you relax from your orgasm.

“Jesus.” You sigh, blissed out. “That is so much better than what I could do.” You admit softly. Taking a few breathes, you open your eyes and look at Dave. “How do you want me after I pulled the muffins out?”

Dave waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle, and he loves the sound. He winks at you and reaches for your shirt, glad you didn’t put a bra back on. “I want you to bend over the kitchen table, I want to fuck you from behind.”

You pull the muffins out of the oven completely nude, with Dave behind you trying to pull his cock out of his pants like he had in the limo. You set the tray down on a cooling rack and bend over the counter, laughing when your breasts are dragging through the impression of your ass from earlier. You look over your shoulder and shake your ass at him playfully. “Hurry up.”

He chuckles at your impatience, slapping your ass then he grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in without premise. “Fuck.” He hisses at how tight you are, his forehead resting against your back as he looms over you.

“Oh fuck.” You feel him from the sex in the car on the way home, but he feels amazing right now. Even larger from this position. “Dave.” You whimper quietly. “I- I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses your spine and he starts to move, a quick, hard pace that has your hips slamming against the edge of the counter. He groans your name at the way your cunt grips him and he can’t believe he ever thought any other pussy could compare. This is his cunt. He owns it. He just wonders if you are starting to own his cock. “Shit.” He hisses to himself as he realizes he is starting to care.

“Fuck.” You reach back and grab onto his hip, urging him on. You love the way he feels shredding up into you. Wondering if tonight in the kitchen is the night you get pregnant. “Fuck Dave.” You whimper, collapsing forward and your breasts press into the flour.

He grunts, sweat beading on his brow from the force of his thrusts. “So fucking good. So good baby. Jesus, such a good pussy. The best. And mine. God, gonna knock you up right now. Just - just need you to cum again.” He pants, squeezing his hand underneath you to rub your clit.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” You whine, pushing back against him and gasping when he finds your clit with precise accuracy. “I- oh god, I’m gonna cum again.” You slap your hand down in the flour and wail his name again, clenching down around him.

“Good girl. Good girl. Fuck. Gonna make me - you’re so - oh fuck.” He growls, burying his cock deep inside of you and painting your walls for the second time that night.

You pant, feeling him continuing to grind into you as he rides out his high. As you catch your breath, you wonder if he will push you away again or actually try to open up slightly. If he doesn’t, you will just try to get pregnant as quickly as possible.

Dave sighs, kissing along your neck. His instinct is to pull out of you and rush off to his room but he can’t. Even if he wanted to, he can’t leave you right now. He grabs a clean dishcloth from the nearby drawer and he pulls out, gently cleaning you up. “Gotta shower with all the flour that’s on you. Or do you want a bath? I can go run it once you’re done baking.” He offers, wanting you to be happy and not sad with him.

“Shower.” You decide, biting your lip and looking around at all the food. “Will you take one with me? Then I’ll put this stuff away.” You will let him escape after the shower, knowing he doesn’t want to spend too much time with you.

Dave nods, knowing it's getting into dangerous territory but he can't refuse you when you look at him like that. "Okay baby. Let's go shower." He takes your hand and decides to let you guide him. "Yours or mine?" He asks, not caring about the flour that's all over his suit and the house.

“We can use mine.” You offer softly. “It will give you a reason to have to leave.” You squeeze his hand in yours to let him know that you aren’t upset about it. You asked for time after sex and he’s giving it to you. You wouldn’t be bitchy because he didn’t live up to romance novels.

Dave appreciates your acceptance that he won't be your prince charming. He lets you guide him to your bedroom and he watches you lean in to turn on the shower. "You've got flour all over your ass." He chuckles, slapping your ass playfully and he works on undressing himself.

You giggle and turn around to watch him undress. “Flour on my tits as well.” You remind him, watching him reveal inch by inch with every article he takes off. You step into the shower and adjust the spray, watching the flour start to stream down your body in white rivulets. “Maybe you did it this time.” You murmur, mostly to yourself as you run your hands over your body.

Dave hears you and he is torn. Part of him wants you to be pregnant, anxious to see you grow with his child. The other part of him wants to keep trying to get you pregnant. He kicks his boxers aside and steps in behind you, groaning at the hot water hitting his chest. "Are you ready to be pregnant?" He asks.

“I- I don’t know.” You confess. “Our relationship is very…precarious, but then again - it is what you married me for.” You step to the side and reach for your body wash. “I think I’m- I’m afraid.” You sigh softly. “Who knows what will happen while I’m pregnant. Most women are hormonal and you aren’t known for your patience.”

He watches you, knowing that your fears are valid, but he would never reprimand you for your hormones. He reaches for your cheeks, bringing your eyes to his. "Sweetheart, if you are - or get - pregnant, I will worship the fucking ground you walk on. I have wanted this, a family, for my entire life and for you to give it to me...I could never thank you enough. Please don't be scared. I'll be there for you." He promises.

You swallow and nod, hoping that he’s telling the truth. “You say that now, but wait until I’m crying because the pickle and chocolate chip muffins don’t taste like I imagined.” You joke, wanting to lift the atmosphere a bit.

He chuckles, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. "Ice cream and pickles was what my mom craved. Anything you want...it is yours. I can give you whatever you want." He promises.

You sigh, handing him the body wash, "except you." Dave doesn't respond, working on cleaning himself off.

The rest of your shower is quiet, not uncomfortable, but it’s clear that the two of you are lost in your own thoughts. Once both of you are clean, you turn off the water and brush past Dave to reach for a towel for him as you step out. “Have a good night Dave.” You offer softly. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen and then go to bed.” You lean in and press your lips to his. “Sweet dreams.”

He wraps the towel around his waist, watching you go and he wants to drag you back into his arms. Shit, he’s already in deep and he doesn’t know how to pull himself away from you. He needs to stop feeling like this. He grabs his clothes and makes his way back to his room, determined to not go back and crawl into your bed.

It doesn’t surprise you that Dave is gone when you come back to your room. The baked goods stored and the kitchen cleaned, it’s been at least two hours. Climbing into bed, you sigh softly. You’re probably never going to know what it’s like to sleep in the same bed as him. 

****

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Mr. York?” Mrs. Jones asks as she frets. “He should be awake soon and you can have breakfast together.”

You smile at the older woman and continue to put the boxes of goods into the car that the driver had pulled around to the kitchen door. “No, I want them to have them while they are still fresh.” You explain. “Mr. York knows I am delivering them. He won’t even notice that I’m not at the table.” You promise with another smile. “He’ll be reading his paper or answering emails on his phone.” Turning to the driver you nod. “I’m ready to go. You have the list of addresses.” You had woken up early and written cards to go along with the treats, explaining who they were from and why. It was a gesture that you hoped makes Dave’s family name shine.

Dave comes downstairs dressed in a crisp suit, ready for his day of meetings, and he frowns when he doesn’t find you sitting at the kitchen table. He looks at his housekeeper. “Where is my beautiful wife this morning?” He asks and she tells him that you’ve gone out to deliver the baked goods you made last night. With a sigh, he resigns himself to breakfast alone until he makes his way to his office, driving himself since you have taken the driver.

You come back home, feeling better and happier than you have in quite awhile. You had delivered the muffins, cookies and cakes to surprised and grateful directors on behalf of the York family. Early enough for breakfast to be able to watch the kids in the orphanage enjoy the rare breakfast treats that made them all think it was a special occasion. You had cried when you had gotten back to the car, vowing that you were going to get Dave to either donate to them or arrange a charity event to bolster their stretched budget. Feeling a little disappointed that you had completely missed Dave, you decide that you will take lunch to him at his office to make up for it and surprise him.

Dave is surprised when his secretary pages in to tell him that you are here. He tells her to send you in and stands up, his jacket already removed and tie loosened. “Hey sweetheart. What are you doing here?” He asks, kissing your cheek. He thought he wouldn’t see you today, knowing that it’s going to be a long day.

You hold up the large bag you had packed from the kitchen with a sweet smile. “Since I didn’t make it back in time to see you before you left, I decided to do the wifely thing and bring you lunch.” You bite your lip and look at him playfully. “Is that okay? Or do you have a lunch routine I shouldn’t interrupt?”

Dave thinks about his schedule and remembers he has a phone call with a CEO of some new tech company who wants his investment. Dave picks up his phone to dial his secretary. “Hey Sally, can you reschedule that tech kid for another time. I am going to have lunch with my wife instead of speaking with that little Zuckerberg wannabe.” He orders and when she says “no problem sir,” he hangs up and turns back to you. “What has my beautiful wife brought me for lunch? Herself?” He teases, wanting to be a little less formal around you now.

That thought had crossed your mind, so you send him a smirk. “That’s for dessert.” You tease, happy that he hasn’t sent you away. “I packed up some sandwiches and some soup that I had made last night between baking batches.” You know it’s not the most formal lunch, he probably at five star restaurants for lunch, but there had been something very sweetly domestic about fixing the lunch yourself. “A fruit salad, some tea. Just something to power you through the day.”

Dave is taken back. He doesn’t remember the last time someone cooked for him that he hasn’t paid as a cook or a restaurant. “I- Wow. You made all of this?” He asks when you start to unpack it. You nod, biting your lip and he is in awe of you. “Thank you.” He kisses your cheek and guides you over to the table in his office so you can eat together.

You set out all the food, happy that he is impressed with the simple fare. You had made the sandwiches thick, fresh vegetables and avocado on them along with meat and cheese. “So this morning, I dropped off the treats to the orphanage that is close to our house.” You tell him after taking a sip of your tea. “Dave, their budget is so stretched that can barely make the necessities.” You tut. “The kids thought it was Christmas morning to have the muffins and be told that there would be cookies for dessert tonight.” You look over at him. “I was thinking about either setting up a charity event to raise extra funds or seeing if you would make a donation.”

He can’t help the impressed noise that escapes his mouth. Your charity is unusual. Sure, he donates to charities but that’s mostly for tax credits and for political gains, not for actually caring about the cause. He decides then and there you can give to whatever charity you want. “Whatever you prefer. If you wish to throw an event and plan it, the money is yours. If you want to just donate, the money is yours.” He promises, sitting down and admiring the sandwich you made. He groans and picks it up, taking a bite and moaning at the simple but delicious food.

“Why not both?” You ask with an excited smile. “Set a budget for me to use or donate and whatever doesn’t go into the event, will be the first donation check for them.” You immediately start thinking of ideas that would both draw in some of the wealthy politicians and perhaps allow the kids at the orphanage to come and enjoy themselves. “Would that be okay? And would you allow me to open up our house? I am thinking of a fair, or carnival type of atmosphere? Family friendly and good PR for a lot of politicians.”

Dave ponders it. He’s always been a private man and doesn’t like strangers in his home, especially considering it’s not common knowledge about his less than legal dealings. He considers it and the hope in your eyes has him saying yes. “You can do whatever you want sweetheart. You can have whatever you want.”

You can’t help it, jumping up out of your seat, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I will make sure the event stays to the grounds. The house will be off limits.” You promise, understanding he might be wary for strangers to be milling around his house. “We just have a lot of green space that would be perfect.”

Dave pulls you into his lap, cupping your cheek so he can press his lips to yours. “I will hire an event coordinator to help you. I don’t want you to stress about it.” He murmurs against your lips. It’s far too easy to be intimate with you, you seem to bring it out in him.

You smile and kiss him again, pecking his lips happily. You are the wife of a wealthy and influential man, you want to make changes where you can and his approval means at lot more to you that you had first anticipated. “Thank you.” You whisper softly. “Eat your lunch so you can either go back to work or have dessert.” You tease.

Dave keeps you on his lap, not wanting you to move as you eat your sandwiches and he kisses your neck after you’ve finished eating. “I do believe I was promised dessert.” He coos, sliding his hand along your thigh.

“You want a quickie in your office?” You ask as you twist around in your seat and press your lips to his. “A nooner before you have to go back to boring business? Or do you…” you bite your lip and grin at him. “Do you want to take a call while I’m sitting on your cock?”

Dave groans, "shit. I want both. Next time...next time you can sit on my cock." He reaches for your dress - thank fuck you're wearing a dress. "Want you to ride my cock here."

You are thrilled that he’s already talking about a next time, meaning he enjoyed you coming to bring him lunch. You moan softly when he hooks his fingers under your panties and starts pushing them down. You’re already wet, having anticipated this happening, your slick is already coating your lips and his fingers slide through your folds easily.

He groans at how slick you already are, quickly finding your clit to rub the bundle of nerves while he fumbles with his belt, wanting you to cum on his cock. He is so happy you want him, are eager for him. He manages to unzip his pants, "take my cock out." He orders with a pant, his fingers pushing into you.

Moaning quietly, you reach into his pants, and pull his thick cock out. “Fuck, someone is eager to get inside me.” You tease, rolling your hips on his fingers while you spit in your hand and reach down to start stroking his cock. “You want me to ride this cock?” You purr softly in his ear before you nip his lobe. 

Dave hisses when you bite his ear and he groans when you twist your wrist. "Please baby. Need - need you to fuck me. Please ride my cock." He doesn't beg but right now, he feels like he's gonna die if he doesn't get inside of you. 

The begging catches you off guard and there is nothing you wouldn’t do for him when he use that tone with you. It’s sexier than his demanding tone and you’ve come to find that you enjoy it. Batting his fingers away from your cunt, you scramble to get into position and you don’t even wait, sinking down on him quickly with a moan loud enough that his secretary hears you.

“Oh fuck.” Dave groans, his head going back as he closes his eyes. Your pussy is so wet and tight around him. He doesn’t know if anyone else would compare. He grabs your hands, securing them behind your back to arch your figure so he can bury his face in your tits, kissing along the flesh. “Want you to ride my cock.” He orders. “Please.” He begs a little more.

Planting your feet on the floor, you push up off his cock almost completely before you sink back down. Moaning and leaning back to give him more access to your breasts while you start to ride him. It makes your thighs burn, but you love the sounds that he makes, that your cunt makes as you take him again and again. Starting to become addicted to the way that Dave feels inside you. You know that you will want to do this again and again. 

Dave watches you, enraptured by your very being, and he grabs your dress, shoving it up so he can watch his cock disappear inside of you over and over again. Fuck you look gorgeous. "That's it baby. Shit, look at you riding my cock. My sweet little wife is actually a dirty little whore." He teases, looking into your beautiful eyes.

“Your dirty little w-whore.” You pant out breathlessly, trying to keep the pace steady. You know he will like that. “O-only yours.” It’s true, and you know it makes his cock even harder to know that he’s the only one that has seen you this way. “Oh fuck, Dave.” 

"Jesus." Dave lets go of your dress, reaching to grab your ass and he spreads your cheeks, pressing his finger to your puckered hole, loving how it flutters under his touch. "So good. All mine." He groans, cock twitching inside of you and he kisses along your neck.

“Only- only cock to be inside me.” You moan when his cock twitches. “When- when I’m pregnant,” you pant. “I - I want you to fuck my ass.” You admit, cheeks burning with excitement and embarrassment. He wanted to know what you want, so you don’t feel bad about telling him that.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” The very thought sends Dave over the edge and his cock throbs while he paints your walls with his hot seed. He buries his face in your chest as he slowly thrusts up into you until he relaxes beneath you. You are a little disappointed, realizing that it’s gonna be a repeat of your wedding night. That is until Dave shifts his hand to rub your clit. “Want you to cum on my cock.” He orders, kissing along your chest.

“Dave.” You whimper and your walls clench around his spent cock, making him hiss. You had expected him to be done and this has you eagerly rolling your hips, careful to keep him inside you, “fuck, I’m gonna cum all over you.” You pant, leaning in push his face into your breasts harder. “Fuck baby, rub it faster.”

He bites down on your nipple through the thin material of your dress and your lace bra. He groans when your walls squeeze him and he rubs your clit a little harder. “Cum for me.” He pleads, wanting to hear and feel it.

You throw your head back, following his order and soaking his softening cock with your juices as you cry out his name. Gasping and trembling in his arms as he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

He loves it. Wrapping his arms around you after working you through your orgasm to pull you close. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, it’s too dangerous, but you seem to make him want it all with you. It’s both scary and exhilarating. “So good.” He murmurs, kissing you softly.

You hum against his lips, smiling in pleasure and kissing him back multiple times before you pull away. “We should clean up, and then I need to let you get back to work.” You murmur softly, aware that he would want space after this. Cupping his cheeks, you kiss him one last time before you start to stand, groaning softly as he falls out of you.

He grabs the napkins you’d brought with you to clean himself up, tucking himself away and he reaches for you, gently wiping you clean. “I hope you’re pregnant. I can’t wait to see it. See you full of my baby.” He caresses your stomach after pulling your dress down and replacing your panties.

You smile again and lean in to kiss him. “We’ll keep trying until I am.” You promise, knowing that is his greatest wish. Quickly packing up the remnants of lunch, you shoulder the bag. “I’ll see you when you get home, honey.” You tell him. “Have a good afternoon, okay?”

Dave nods, kissing your cheek, and thanks you for lunch. It’s weirdly domestic but he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he can’t wait to get home and see you. Shit, what is happening to him? He wants to be inside of you again, and he realizes it’s not just to get you pregnant.

****

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the timer hasn’t gone off yet. You need to wait until the full three minutes is up and not get your hopes up too much. Only a day late for your period, you are already freaking out about the possibility of being pregnant. Not that it would be a bad thing. You’ve been trying. The once a day edict that Dave had set down after your last period had quickly turned into several times a day. You going to his office for lunch more often than not, sex when he gets home and sometimes, even before he goes into the office. The timer scares you, making you jump and you brace yourself, turning the test over and gasping when you see the word ‘pregnant’ clearly on the digital readout. Laughing happily, you race out of your private bathroom to get ready to tell Dave when he gets home. 

Dave walks into the house, setting his briefcase down and he shrugs off his jacket, placing it over the chair in the hallway. “Honey, I’m home.” He calls out. It had originally been to annoy you but now he loves saying it and you love hearing it. The marriage he had forced for an heir is slowly becoming real and it terrifies him but he can’t seem to stop. He walks into the kitchen to find you icing a cake. “Baking again?” He teases, loving how you love to cook.

“Your home!” Your smile is brilliant and you rush over to hug him, piping bag still in your hand. Your lips easily land on his happily, loving how he immediately wraps his arms around you and kisses you back. “I sent everyone home tonight.”

He smirks, his hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. “Why? You want me to eat you out on the kitchen counter again?” He coos, kissing your neck. You fluster, unable to believe that the poor housekeeper walked in on you both before she was due to clean up the kitchen.

“No.” You huff, burying your face against his neck and inhaling the muted scent of his cologne. He always smells good and you wish that at least one night you could sleep in his arms, but that isn’t the deal. “I- I have a surprise for you.” You admit softly, pulling away and walking over to a beautifully wrapped gift. “I was going to wait for dessert tonight, but I can’t.”

Dave frowns, “you didn’t have to get me anything sweetheart. I don’t - have I missed a half anniversary or something?” He tries to figure out what he has missed. When you hand him the gift without an explanation, he frowns even more. He carefully opens it, eyes on you until he looks down.

You had gone out and bought a cute little onesie, proudly proclaiming ‘Daddy’s My Favorite’. You had placed the positive pregnancy test on top of the onesie right below the words. Your grin is wide as his brow furrows for a second, obviously not understanding right away.

“You- you’re - you’re pregnant?” He chokes out and you nod, still grinning. Dave stares at the test again, caressing it and there’s a lump in his throat which he chokes on. For the first time since his parents died, Dave cries. He sets the gift down and reaches for you, pulling you into his arms as he cries with joy because you’re pregnant with his child. It’s his dream come true.

Surprised that your husband is crying, you wrap your arms around him and stroke his back and neck. You don’t doubt that he is happy, you know they are tears of joy but it still takes you off guard. Your own tears spill over and you cling to him. “I’m pregnant. It’s happening. We’re having a baby.”

Dave pulls back, grinning at you and he cups your cheeks, leaning in to kiss you. “You’re incredible. I- I am so happy.” He murmurs, looking at you in awe. His lips pressing against yours again.

You lean into the kiss, happy that you can give him what he wanted. He’s wanted this from the beginning, it’s why he married you. “I made a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. Just to get the ball rolling.” You tell him after you pull back. “I know you can’t take off to come, but I will let you know what they say.”

“You can FaceTime me so I can be there even if I can’t physically be there. You’re going to relax. I don’t want you stressing or doing too much. Feet up all day. You’re gonna be a queen during this pregnancy.” He orders, wanting you to be looked after and cared for beyond anything else. “God.” He reaches for the test again, tears stinging his eyes again. “I can’t believe it.”

You want to roll your eyes at how bossy he’s already being, but you understand him enough that you know it out of concern for the pregnancy. “You can’t believe it?” You ask playfully. “So you weren’t trying to knock me up multiple times a day?”

Dave chuckles, kissing your forehead. "Thought we were just having fun." He teases, stepping back to place his hand on your lower stomach. "I want you to have everything you want." He tells you and your eyes meet his, showing him what you truly want, and he doesn't want to ruin the moment. "Almost everything." He murmurs, avoiding your eyes, no doubt full of pain. "What have you been baking?" He asks, changing the subject.

You sigh and move back over to the cake. “I was making a double white chocolate cream cake.” You explain. You had noticed that he did love your chocolate cakes and you wanted it to be good. “One layer is pink, one layer blue since we don’t know the sex.”

"I don't care if it's a boy or a girl. As long as it's healthy." He promises, watching you continue working on the cake. "What do you want?" He asks you, knowing you must think he wants a boy. He honestly doesn't mind.

“A healthy baby.” You don’t care if you have a boy or girl either. You are sure that you will be having another, Dave won’t want there to be just one child and you want your child to have playmates and siblings.

The words would be too easy to say, they'd slip off of the tongue like honey, and it would be right for the moment, but Dave cant' say them. Love is...it's not what he's feeling. Or is it? He doesn't really know how love feels. He's never been in love before. He can't love you though. Love destroys, love causes mistakes. He can't handle mistakes. Therefore, he clears his throat and steps away from you. "I'll, uh, leave you to your baking. I gotta - I have work to do. Let me know when dinner is ready." He rushes out, making his way to his office.

Your heart drops, although you know it’s Dave pulling back. He had promised you that he wouldn’t love you. He was intent on keeping that promise, for whatever reasons were his own. Instead of crying and feeling heartbroken, you go back to decorating your cake. You figured out that you would have to love enough for both of you, because you had fallen in love with your husband over the past month.

****

Dave holds your hand, watching the doctor move the wand around your stomach, and he’s nervous. You’re finding out the gender today and he is anxious. He isn’t one for reveal parties and he wanted to find out with just you, looking at the screen. “Congratulations. It’s a boy.” The doctor announces and Dave swears his entire life has been leading up to this moment.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes water instantly and you can’t wait for the doctor to clean the jelly off your stomach to be able to caress it again. Looking over at Dave, you love the look of awe on his face as he watches the monitor. Squeezing his hand gently, your heart swells - falling deeper in love with Dave. “We’re having a boy.” You whisper, smiling at him when he looks at you.

Dave leans down to kiss you softly.“Thank you. Thank you.” He murmurs, wanting to tell you what he can’t say but how can he? He promised himself he wouldn’t. “You’re incredible.” He whispers, kissing your lips again. “A boy. Our baby.”

“Our baby.” No matter what, you had created a life with Dave. Your child would be a new life in the world. To love unconditionally. The doctor cleans up the gel and prints off picture while you look down at your belly. “I love you baby boy.” You murmur softly. “Your daddy and I love you so much.”

Dave swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears and he covers your belly with his free hand. He kisses your forehead, wanting to silently tell you how he feels without actually saying anything. Dave won’t even admit it to himself, he can’t. He won’t.

****

You can do this. You take a deep breath and push the door open to his office, knowing that he might tell you no. Dave looks up and gives you a smile, his eyes immediately drifting down to your swollen belly with pride. “I - I was wondering if I could ask you something. I request of sorts?”

Dave tilts his head and sets his pen down. “What do you want sweetheart? You want that ice cream again? I can send out for it.” He says and frowns when you shake your head, moving closer to his desk.

“I want…I want you to sleep in the bed with me. At night…I get cold and I want - I want you to hold me.” You bite your lip and Dave sighs, standing up.

“Sweetheart. I can’t do that. I’m sorry. I’ll get you some blankets but - but I can’t do it.” He wishes you could understand.

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes, once again wishing that you didn’t have these feelings for Dave. “I’m just asking you to sleep with me.” You protest. “You- you told me I could have anything I wanted when I was pregnant and you- you barely touch me now.”

“You can have anything. I can buy you an entire fucking McDonalds if you want a burger and fries. I can buy you a spa if you want a massage. You can have anything you want.” He counters, annoyed that you’re upset with him when you know the deal. It’s true he hasn’t touched you since you got pregnant but honestly, it’s because he is terrified of hurting you. He doesn’t want to harm the baby and he definitely doesn’t want to delve into ‘making love.’

“I don’t want a fucking burger.” You growl, tears streaming down your face. “I want my husband! I want you to touch me, to make me believe that you didn’t lie to me.” You choke back a sob. “You- you’re going to the hotel aren’t you? You decided that I’m not what you want and you’ve started sleeping with those women again.”

Dave shakes his head, placing his hands on his desk. “Goddamnit woman. What I do, who I do, is none of your fucking concern. You don’t own me. I own you. You’re mine. I don’t belong to you so if I decide to go fuck some whore in a hotel room, that’s my choice. You need to calm down for the baby.” He reminds you with a hiss. Hating himself for what he said but he can’t tell you what he really feels, how he wants to grab you and worship you, make you feel every fucking emotion he feels for you.

Your heart shatters, making your shoulders drop and your sob springs from your throat. “I- I was wrong.” You choke out. “I- I thought me loving you was enough. That- that- that I could love you enough for both of us.” You shake your head. “I was wrong.” You turn and rush out of the room as fast as you can manage with your pregnant waddle. The confirmation of him sleeping with other women has crushed you and you need to get away from him.

Dave slumps down into his plush chair, his heart aching for you. All he wants to do is run after you, pull you into his arms and tell you how he feels. He knows that most people would think he's being crazy but it's better this way. If something happens, he can protect you. You hating him is better than you loving him, it will protect you both. His mind runs over the words "I thought me loving you was enough." You love him. His heart aches even more he's certain it's shattering to pieces in his chest.

Rushing out of the house with your purse, you brush off the driver’s offer to take you somewhere. You can drive yourself and you need to get away, clear your mind. Driving through the streets of D.C., you find yourself in front of the orphanage. The charity event had been a great success and you were proud of the improvements that had been made. Making your way to the door after making sure you don’t look too upset, you knock, knowing that you can check up on some of your favorite children to take your mind off the fact your husband doesn’t love you.

“Mrs. York. What a pleasure to see you. Please, come in.” The orphanage manager greets you, ushering you inside. “Gosh, look at you. When are you due?” She asks, a soft smile on her face as she guides you towards the staff room so you can sit down for a moment.

“It seems like any day, but I have another month.” You tell her with a small laugh. You already feel better, the atmosphere had become very homey with the upgrades. The sounds of feet pounding upstairs makes you smile and you look around. “Things seem to be going well. How is everyone?”

“Oh wonderful, Mrs. York. We- we cannot thank you and Mr. York for your generous donations. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your kindness. Would you like a cup of tea? We have pastries too. Strawberry danish.” The older woman offers, grabbing the teapot she was drinking from and a new cup to pour you some then she gets the tray of baked goods. “Please, help yourself. I’m sure you’re starving.”

You give a small laugh, selecting a delicious looking danish and setting it on a napkin. The tea is a very welcome thing, taking a sip of it before you speak again. “It’s fate that this all started with me bringing you baked goods.” You offer, smiling as you reach for the danish and take a bite.

“Yes. You are an excellent baker. Our pastries simply don’t compare.” She replies with a soft smile, watching you chew on the danish until you choke. “Mrs. York? Is everything okay?” She asks and your eyes widen, dropping the danish onto the table. “Mrs. York?”

The tingle in the back of your throat had instantly turned into your throat starting to close. Gasping for air, you manage to croak out, “all-er-gic. Rasp-ber-ies.” Your reaction is terrifying you, not sure what would happen with the baby. Your purse is in the car and you feel like your drowning, unable to pull in a breath. “D-D-Daaave.”

“Oh my God. Do you- do you have any epipen? I think - I think we do. Oh God. I’m so sorry. I thought- I need to call an ambulance.” She fusses, unsure of what to do first so she calls out, telling another woman who immediately rushes to get the epipen and demands the manager calls an ambulance. She pushes the epipen into your thigh, “it’s okay dear. We are gonna get you help.”

You feel the roaring in your ears getting louder, your vision starting to narrow and get fuzzy around the edges. A clear indicator you’re going to loose consciousness. You grip the table and feel your body become even heavier, praying that no matter what happens, the baby will be okay. Dave can lose you, but he wants his son. Maybe it will be better if it works out that way. That is your last thought before your eyes roll back and you slump back in the chair, unconscious.

****

Dave is typing an email when his cell rings. It’s an unknown number which usually he ignores but something tells him to answer it. “Mr. York?” The voice says. “Yes.” Dave answers hesitantly. “This is Sibley Memorial. I’m calling because your wife was brought in with an allergic reaction-” Dave doesn’t even listen to the rest of what she says. He hangs up and sprints to his car, speeding out of his estate like a madman and not giving a fuck about any speed limits as he drives to the hospital. He leaves his car outside and rushes in, slamming his hands on the desk and demanding to know where you are.

You can’t open your eyes. They’re too heavy, but you feel people moving around you. The wild beeps on a monitor makes your lashes flutter. Your chest feels heavy, aching even, but you still can’t seem to force yourself to respond to anything.

Dave listens to the doctor, wondering what the hell happened, and when the doctor says "emergency c section due to lack of oxygen" and he chokes on his own breath when the doctor says "I need you to give me permission and...decide which one to save if the situation calls for it." Dave frowns, not quite understanding since his heart is hammering a mile a minute. "Do you want us to save the child or the mother?" The doctor asks, "if needed."

Dave feels sick. He knows that if he was asked this before you got married, he would've picked the baby without question. Now, he can't imagine his life without you. "Both. I want you to save both." He demands, starting to panic.

"Mr. York...if we can't save both..." The doctor trails off and Dave pinches his nose, trying to stop himself from crying.

"My wife. I want you to save my wife." He whispers, knowing that he couldn't live without you, he wants you more than he wants a baby. Something he never imagined he'd say. The doctor nods and calls for a nurse to prep for the emergency c-section, telling Dave to wait in the family room until they come to get him.

Your lashes flutter, hearing doctors and nurses moving around you. Talking and yet not able to make out what they are saying. You try to reach out, lift a hand but all you can do is move a finger. Your head lulls and you feel a mask come down over your mouth. More time, more mumbled talking until suddenly you hear a loud voice.

You hear Dave’s voice, making your brow furrow. What is he doing here? Where are you? Your blood pressure spikes, panicked and upset. You don’t know what is going on and all you can do is try to move but you can't. Breathing fast and your heart rate climbs.

"Sir. We need you to wait outside." The nurse pushes on Dave's chest. "Code blue! Code blue!" The doctor shouts and everyone starts to rush around you.

"What is going on? What the fuck is going on?" Dave shouts, trying to remain in the room but he is pushed by a few nurses outside of the room. "What's going on? What the fuck is happening with my wife?" He shouts, slumping when the doors shut behind the nurses as they go back into the room. He tries to get back in until he finds the door is secure and he chokes, tears in his eyes and he is scared. Terrified for the first time in his life. He's going to lose you. He's going to lose you before he ever truly had you.

Alarms beep, loud and intrusive. You hear shouted orders before the black consumes you again. The last thing that you manage to think of before you slip under is that Dave won’t have to worry about you. Your needing him to love you will be over and he can keep himself closed off.

Dave paces, his heart pounding in his ears, and he wants to demand the very best doctors for you, demand that they do something. Anything. When the nurse comes to find Dave, she says that you are stable but they are monitoring you and he can't see you yet. Dave wants to stomp but he doesn't. The nurse asks if he wants to see the baby and he nods, nearly crying. He follows her to the nursery and the nurse shows him how to hold the newborn baby that is placed in his arms. "He's healthy?" He asks and the nurse nods.

"Perfect. He's absolutely fine."

Dave chokes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looks down at his child. The very thing he has wanted for so long but it's not enough. He wants this moment with you. "Hey buddy. I'm your daddy. Mama is - Mama will be here soon to see you. She is gonna be such a good mom. You're gonna be so spoiled and loved. I already love you so much." He murmurs, kissing the baby's forehead.

It’s hours later that Dave is allowed in your room. You’ve been cleaned up and moved to a private room, wires and IVs running all around you. The nurse brings the baby down from the nursery to stay in the room, telling him that the baby being here will be good for you. Perhaps wake you up sooner when you hear him cry. Your breathing is steady and the beep of your heart monitor is the only sound in the room when she closes the door behind her.

Dave just watches your chest rise and fall. He can't believe he nearly lost you. You're here and he grips your hand while his eyes flick over to the baby who is asleep. He wishes you were awake to hold the baby, he wants to see it. "Sweetheart." His voice is raspy from his tears. "I need you to wake up. Please. Our son needs you to wake up. You are- I love you. I love you so much." He finally admits, resting his head on your joined hands. "Please wake up."

You’re dreaming. You have to be. You are in a place where Dave is murmuring for you to wake up, that he loves you. Wrapped around you in bed, his hands caressing your swollen stomach and promising that he loves you. Tears leak out of your eyes because you know that it’s not true, he won’t love you. Not because he’s not capable, you know he is. He won’t just because he doesn’t want to.

Dave squeezes your hand, looking up and gasping when he sees tears rolling down your cheeks. "Hey hey sweetheart. It's okay. It' s okay. Please, open those beautiful eyes. Show me those pretty eyes and wake up." He pleads, kissing your forehead and cheeks, tasting the salt of your tears.

It takes you a long time to open your eyes, fighting not to leave the dream where Dave loves you and wants you like you want him. You groan quietly, your entire body sore and blink against the light that overwhelms your eyes before your vision starts to clear. “D-Dave.” You whimper, wishing that he was with you.

“I’m here baby. I’m here.” Dave cups your cheeks as your eyelashes flutter until he can see your beautiful eyes. “Oh thank God.” He exhales deeply, kissing your forehead. He knows he should call for the nurse but he can’t believe you’re awake. “I’m here.” He repeats, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones.

“Wh-what happened?” Your groggy and unable to remember much. “I- I had a- it was raspberry.” You remember the danish and the worry on the director’s face when she injected you with the epi pen. Looking over, you see Dave, relief and worry mixed on his face and it confuses you. “I- the baby?” Your eyes widen and you look down, your stomach flatter than it had been.

"He's fine. You - they had to do an emergency c-section and - and he is healthy but they asked - they asked me who to save." He chokes, unable to imagine a world without you or his son. Especially you. "He's healthy. You - fuck - you were into code blue and they - just - you're okay." He chokes, kissing your forehead again, just breathing you in.

Your heart aches, hating that you didn’t know that you had given birth. That you didn’t get to hold your son the moment he came into the world. “It’s okay.” You assure him, knowing that he would choose his son. You were replaceable. “You don’t have to explain. I know how you feel. Of course you would choose him.”

Dave frowns, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He could’ve lost you and it would’ve killed him. “I didn’t choose him. I chose you. I wanted them to save you. I’m - he’s here and he’s healthy thank God but losing you? I wouldn’t have survived it because - because I love you.” He admits, knowing that he can’t stop it anymore. Love is weakness, love destroys, but love also makes him stronger and he has created a son with you so how can he possibly believe it’s wrong? “I love you.” He declares, looking at you, begging you to believe him.

You shake your head, frowning at him because you don’t want to get your hopes up. “Don’t- don’t say that because I had an allergic reaction.” You beg him, “I can’t - it would kill me if you changed your mind.” You rasp out. “I love you, and I just- please don’t say it unless you mean it.”

Dave shakes his head, "no. No. It's because I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it - I was terrified because you are - I love you so much it's scary. I have never felt like this before and our son...he's so beautiful and you gave him to me and I nearly lost you." Dave chokes on a sob, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I love you. Please, you gotta believe me. I love you."

You are so very tired and your body aches, but you pull your hand out of his and reach up, cupping Dave’s cheek. Trying to wipe away his tears. “I believe you.” You whisper, crying yourself because you never thought you would hear those words. “I love you so much.”

Dave grins, turning his head to kiss your palm. “Do you want to meet our son?” He asks, lowering his hand from yours. You nod and he walks over to carefully pick the baby up. He places him on your chest, wanting you to be as close as possible.

“Oh my god.” You gasp out, cradling hun close and running your hands over his little body. Checking fingers and toes and stroking his cheek. His eyes are closed, and you look up at Dave in complete wonder. “He’s okay?” You ask, needing to make sure. “My - it didn’t hurt him?”

Dave shakes his head, tears in his eyes as he thinks about how you didn’t get to see your son be born. “He’s absolutely fine. He’s early but healthy. No issues. It didn’t hurt him.” Dave confirms, leaning down to kiss your forehead before kissing the baby. “Thank you. I love him so much. I love you so much.” Dave murmurs in awe.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both to Dave and to your son. Leaning down, you press a kiss to your son’s forehead. “I- She thought they were strawberry danish and I was upset. I just wanted to feel okay for a few minutes.” You look back over at Dave guiltily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put him in jeopardy.” You had been so cautious about dealing with your allergy so you didn’t accidentally hurt the baby. And now this happens.

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. How were you to know? You’re both okay. That’s all that matters. I - I nearly lost you.” He chokes again, resting his forehead against yours and looking down at the baby. “I was so scared.” He admits in a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You close your eyes and stroke his hair as you hold the baby close. “I’m not going to leave you. Not when I know you want me here.” You promise softly. “Besides, we have to give our son a sibling.”

Dave smiles, knowing that you need to discuss you having another child after such a traumatic experience. He isn’t fussed about another one if it means keeping you healthy and safe. “I don’t want to just be married in name anymore. I want to be your husband. I want to sleep in bed beside you and kiss you properly and tell you I love you.” He reveals, leaning in to kiss your forehead again.

****

"I want to drag you off and take advantage of you." Dave growls as he presses a kiss to your jaw, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You always say that.” Leaning into his embrace, you sigh happily as he scatters kisses down your skin. Despite the years, and five kids changing your body, Dave still found you irresistible. The kids are growing up with their parents constantly flirting, kissing and sneaking off for some alone time when you can manage it. “What has captured your attention this time?” You ask playfully, swaying with him as he continues to grope you.

“This dress. I want to just duck under it and suck on your clit.” He slides his hand down to your stomach, “and then I want to put our sixth baby inside of you.” He kisses your bare shoulder. “Kids are busy and there’s enough adults here including their nanny. Let’s sneak into the house so I can touch you sweetheart.” He pleads, pushing his hardening cock against you.

“Dave York.” You sound scandalized as you turn around in his arms and wrap your own around his neck. “Are you proposing we sneak away from your eldest’s birthday party so we can have a quickie?” His grin is unrepentant and even after seven years and five kids, your cunt clenches. Leaning in, you kiss his lips. “Meet me inside in two minutes.” You order him breathlessly. “I’ll go first.”

His grin is wicked and he playfully smacks your ass as you walk off. He searches for the kids and finds their nanny racing after them along with the housekeeper and he is reassured they will be safe. He practically counts the seconds and rushes into the house, finding you in the guest bathroom downstairs. “Fuck, you look so sexy today. Must be some kind of glow from the kids.” He groans, immediately pulling you into his arms so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.

You giggle into the kiss, your own hand sliding down and cupping his already hard cock. “Someone is excited about the quickie.” You tease, already tugging at his belt so you can touch him. “I fucking love you.”

His hands side under your dress, groaning at your lack of panties since it’s a maxi dress, and his fingers immediately find your clit, rubbing soft circles while he kisses you. “I fucking love you too.” He declares against your lips.

After DJ’s birth, the two of you had learned that sex could be even better when your true feelings were involved. The sex before had been great, but now it is amazing. “Dave.” You moan quietly, even though the house is empty except for the two of you. Your hips push forward to his hand and you hold onto his shoulders as your knees start to tremble.

“Good girl. My beautiful girl.” He murmurs, kissing your jaw and he slides his hand back to push two fingers inside of you, his thumb pressed against your clit. “So goddamn tight even after five kids.” He whispers in awe.

You chuckle and squeeze your muscles around him. “All those Kegel’s I do.” You tease. “I have to have a strong pelvic floor for all the kids we have.” You don’t regret a single one of them and love teasing about how many more you would give him. “Ready to give me number six?”

“You ready?” Dave asks, knowing you have talked about it and you had the IUD removed last week. You’ve both been so busy you haven’t had a chance to touch each other. “You want me to fill you up with another child? Want me to get you knocked up again so I can worship you?” He asks, pumping his fingers a little faster.

“Fuck.” You and Dave had discovered that once he allowed himself, he had a very large breeding kink. And that transitioned to a pregnancy kink. “Yes baby.” You pant, body racing towards your first orgasm. “I want you to put another baby in me.” Your eyes slip closer and you let out a soft cry when you cum around his fingers when he presses them against that spongy spot.

Hearing you consent to putting another baby in you has Dave ready to fuck you and when you soak his fingers, he fucking loves it. “Jesus.” He growls, working you through it until he removes his fingers, rapidly working to pull his hard cock out of his pants. “Pull your dress up and bend over the bathroom counter. Want to look at you in the mirror while I fuck you.” He orders, pumping his cock a few times.

Whirling around, you stick your ass out enticingly and shake it at Dave. Giggling when he slaps your ass and then grabs your hip with one hand as he shuffles closer. Your eyes meet in the mirror and your mouth opens when he starts to push into you. Moaning loudly. “Daaaaave.”

He loves your face when he pushes inside of you. The way your brow furrows and the little pout you have when you moan his name. It’s gorgeous. He pushes deep, already on the edge at the thought of getting you pregnant, and he loves how you clench around him. “So fucking perfect. Mine. My beautiful wife. All mine.” He declares, kissing your neck as he leans over you. “Watch me fuck you.” He orders, gripping your chin to make you look in the mirror and he starts to move inside of you.

You watch, loving the way that his jaw sets, his eyes darken every time he pushes deep inside you. He still loves that he is the only one that has ever gotten to touch you. That everything you have done has been with him. “Fuck.” You lean back against him and watch your body bounce forward as he thrusts into you.

Your whimpers spur him on and he keeps his eyes on you. “I love you sweetheart.” He pants while his other hand squeezes your hips, sliding up to cup your breast. “Want to see these full of milk again.”

You chuckle, considering you had just weaned your youngest off your breast less than eight months ago. “You just want fresh milk again.” You tease.

Dave grins against your skin, “maybe I do. Love fucking you and tasting it.” He admits like you didn’t already know. “Want to see you round with my baby again. Let everyone know you’re mine.” His hand caresses your stomach and he slides it lower so he can rub your clit.

“Ev- oh shit - everyone knows I’m yours.” You pant, walls clenching around him as he pushes you towards the edge. You feel it building and it’s going to be a rush of pleasure. A few more thrusts of his cock and swipes of his fingers and stars burst behind your eyes. “L-love you!” You cry out, soaking his cock with your juices.

When you cry out, squeezing him tight, he knows he won’t last long. Never does when he’s trying to knock you up. With a groan, he thrusts a half dozen more times until he is burying his cock deep inside of you. “Fucking love you too sweetheart.” He chokes out, biting down on the back of your neck to smother his loud growl.

You whine in pleasure at the feeling of him filling you up, shuddering because you know that it’s possible that he just got you pregnant again. You love the thought of it. When he stops biting your neck, you turn your head and kiss along his jaw while he shallowly thrusts into you. “God, I love when you do that.” You giggle against his skin. “It’s so sexy how much you love getting me pregnant.”

“Love seeing you round with my child. Love seeing you be a mother.” He admits, pulling into of you after softly kissing you. “I thank God every day that I picked you to be my wife. You’re my greatest blessing sweetheart.” He declares, kissing you once more before he reaches for a hand towel to clean you up. “Now we gotta slip in these quickies while the kids are distracted until you’re knocked up.” He grins and you giggle, “you’re insatiable.” He pulls you into his arms after tucking himself away. “For you. My beautiful wife. I love you Mrs. York.” He declares.

“I love you.” You whisper, kissing him softly, unable to believe you adore this man when you hated him so much to begin with. After checking your appearances, Dave smacks your ass and takes you hand to guide you back out to the party. Dave York finally has the family he has always longed for.

#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 equalizer 2 #dave york fanfiction #mafia au

[onmysluttyknees]

Stockholm's Syndrome

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dave York x female reader.

Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18.

⚠️⚠️⚠️Warning! This is a fic about Dave York. Dave York comes with his own warning so do not say I didn't warn you. ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Words: about 2K

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Masterlist ✨

Dave had texted you the night of your birthday party, as he said he would. And over the last few days, you had texted each other every now and then. Mostly him asking what you were doing, though you were sure he somehow knew exactly what you were up to, almost at all hours of the day. Or you asked how his day was going and or if he wanted to stop by later that night. Most nights, he would stop by, either for a quick fuck but sometimes he would fuck you slowly and for hours. Learning what made you moan and what made you scream out his name louder than you had before. And he loved to make you scream; it seemed to only spur him on and fuck you harder and faster, or slower and deeper. Not that you were complaining. He always left you satiated and tired. But he did always leave. He never stayed the night. And you were too chicken shit to ask him to. Because hearing him say no would probably hurt more than him leaving after he had fucked you senseless.

Yet again, it had been a few days since you had seen Dave; he had said he would be going away for a few days, but that didn't stop you from missing him. You missed him more than you should have. You had tried not to fall for him; you really had. But it had been futile to resist. He consumed your every waking hour. You found yourself daydreaming about him on numerous occasions.

Even as you were walking down the aisles of the grocery store, you thought about what it would be like to be walking next to him, picking out items to put in the basket for you to go home together and cook a meal before devouring each other afterwards. Against your better judgment, you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text. It couldn’t hurt now, could it?

When will you be back?

A low buzzing sound sounded out from an aisle or two behind you. And for a split second, you hoped he was there at the store, but you shook your head as if to clear that silly thought out of your mind. He wasn't here; why would he be here? Your phone pinged, and you scrambled to open the text message, hoping it was from Dave.

Sooner than you think. Be patient.

A big smile spread across your lips as you read the text over and over. Your only thought was, how soon was soon? But you refrained from sending another text asking just that question and put the phone back in your purse as you walked into the next aisle.

Stopping in front of the shampoo section, you couldn't reach the higher shelf where your favorite shampoo was. It never failed to surprise you why they insisted on putting it so goddamn high up! It wasn’t like you were abnormally short. You were 5 feet, 3 inches. That wasn’t short. But they insisted on stocking some of your most parched items on the highest shelves. And it never ceased to annoy the living hell out of you. You were just about to give up or maybe even climb the shelf when you felt a presence behind you, but you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You already knew exactly who was standing behind you. He moved closer until he was flushed up against your back, his cologne wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you leaned back onto him as his hands snaked their way around your waist. His hard cock pressed against your ass. And a smile spread across your lips just at the thought of him getting hard at the sight of your back. Sure, the short sundress you had on probably helped—probably not a dress to be going shopping in at this time of the day—but it had been another excruciatingly hot day, and even wearing only this, sweat still coated your skin. The only slight reprieve from the heat was being in the AC-controlled store.

“Did you miss me?” He asked, his voice low, and his breath fanned over my neck and left side of my face as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss just below my ear. He groaned in your ear and pushed himself harder into you. Letting you feel his hard cock pressing into you. A soft moan slipped from your lips.

“Yes,” you said, already breathless and your breathing becoming labored. Just having him close to you again, you sighed a breath of relief. ”What are you doing here?” You asked and turned your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder.

“I had to see you. I just got back into town. Now be a good girl and don’t move.” One of his hands slid from your waist down to your thigh. The store wasn’t that crowded, but there were still some people walking up and down the aisles. You wondered if you should tell him to stop. But the idea of getting caught—the idea of him taking you right then and there—was too thrilling to refuse. Not that you were sure you even had it in you to refuse him. If this was what he wanted, then this was what he would get.

 You spread your legs slightly as his hand moved up your thigh, closer to your aching core. Where you needed his touch the most. His finger grazed over your clothed pussy, and he pressed down on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips.

“We don’t want to attract any attention and get kicked out before I’ve made you cum, now do we?” He asked, his lips closed to your ear, and his teeth grazed gently along your ear. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin at the sound of his voice and the way his fingers kept sliding up and down your pussy. You could feel the wetness growing on your panties as your slick began to trickle out of you. He had you turned on and wet beyond normal within mere seconds.

“No. I’ll be good. I promise.” You vowed. Sliding your panties to the side, he let one finger slide in between your wet lips.

“Already so wet. Fuck, this turns you on, doesn’t it? You want me to fuck you here in this store right now, don’t you? His voice was low and almost threatening, but it was like music to your ears. That was exactly what you wanted. What you needed. You needed to feel him inside of you now. You didn't want to wait until you got back to your apartment, or fuck even out to his car if he had it parked out back. You needed him to take you here now, with the risk of getting caught only spurring you on.

“Yes, please, Dave, fuck me here, now,” you pleaded with him. Begged him to give you what you so desperately needed.

“You’re so goddamn filthy and depraved, and I fucking love it. Bend over and show me that sweet ass of yours, and I'll bury my cock in your deliciously tight pussy.” Without any protest, you did as he asked, bending over slightly and pushing your ass out and into his now rock-hard cock that was pressing against his lacks.

As one hand kept sliding up and down your slit and every now and then pressed against your throbbing clit, his other hand left your waist and you heard the telltale sound of a zipper being unzipped before he lined himself up with your hole and pushed all the way inside in one slow thrust.

You gripped the shelf in front of you for support as he began to move in and out while his fingers still pressed and circled your clit. The tightness within began to build fast. And you knew he would have you cum within mere moments.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his voice strained from thrusting into you hard and slow and from him holding back. “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

“You, oh fuck. You Dave, only you,” and that was the truth. Ever since your first encounter, you hadn’t even looked at another man and found them attractive. All you ever thought about was Dave. How he knew just how to make you melt into putty in his hands. How he managed to make you do things you had secretly always wanted to do but had always been too afraid to ask for with any previous partner. He just knew what you wanted and needed without you having to ask.

“Fuck, your sweet pussy is squeezing me so damn tight. I’m going to need you to cum. I won’t last long.” His hot breath on your neck as he kept thrusting into you in slow and hard thrusts was like throwing gasoline on an already smoldering fire. “Cum for me, baby.”

That last sentence—him calling you baby and him pressing down while circling your clit is what finally sent you. The rush of sensation hit you hard and fast as you came. You bit down on your lower lip to keep from screaming out his name. Though you were sure he would have loved that. You, however, would have never been able to show your face at this store again, and it was the one closest to your apartment.

“Fuuuck!” He gasped and pushed as deep into you as he could, and then he came too. Pouring himself into you. His cock twitched a few times before he stilled, and he leaned his head against your shoulder as he breathed slowly. “You will be the death of me.”

He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants after he had repositioned your panties back into place. You turned around to finally look at him.

“Me? You are the one who snuck up on me while I was just minding my business, shopping,” you said, smiling sweetly at him. “How is it that you knew exactly where I was, by the way?"

“I may have put in a tracker on your phone,” he confessed. He looked you up and down before meeting your eyes. You didn’t care that he had done that; to be honest, the moment you realized he was behind you, that had been your first thought—that he may have actually been spying on you and keeping track of you. And you found it cute in a sick and twisted way. But then again, nothing about whatever this was that you had with Dave was normal by any measure.

“Hmm… I thought you might have.”

“You’re not pissed?” He asked and looked at you, almost shocked. Like he had expected you to lose your marbles when you found out.

“Nope, and just so you know, I found the cameras in my apartment too, and no, I’m not mad about them either. I find it kind of endearing that you went through all that trouble just so that you could keep an eye on me.” You wanted him to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you did not care or were mad at him about it all. No matter how messed up it all was or how you two had stumbled upon each other, you were glad you had.

“Wow, you’re almost as fucked up as me, aren’t you?"

“Almost,” you agreed.

He grabbed your hand and started to pull out towards the exit.

“But my groceries!” You called out.

“Fuck the groceries. You can come back tomorrow and finish your shopping. I’m taking you out to dinner, then we’re going back to your place, where I tend to have my desert in  private."He smirked at you as he looked behind him to see your reaction. A big smile grew on your lips as he continued to pull you by your hand out of the store and over to where his car was parked.

When he reached his car, he walked with you over to the passenger side and opened the door for you.

“Such a gentle man,” you mocked, but not in a mean way. In a playful way. Because the first time he put you in his car, you had been unconscious. And you were almost sure he had put you in the trunk that night.

"Oh, I most definitely am not, most of the time. But for you, I am willing to make an exception,” he replied with that half smirk upon his lips that sent a shiver down your spine and had your body humming again. Desperate and wanting for more and anything this man would give you. And now he wanted to take you out for dinner. But after that, you were sure he was going to give you the best night of your life.

------------------------------ The End--------------------------------------

Masterlist

#fanfic #pedro pascal #my fics #smutt #no minors #over18 #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fan fic #dave york f reader #dave york fan fiction #dave york angst #dave york x f!reader #dave york pit #dave york fanfic #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york #dave york x reader #equalizer 2 #0 regrets

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter Chapter 2 (Bodyguard! Dave York x Female Reader

AN: Lol I am alive. Honestly, I am even surprised this took as long as it did, but I transferred from my old job teaching at a middle school (after a student threatened to stab me lol) and moved to a high school, so I had to completely restart my curriculum, which, if you’ve been following me, is why I’ve been having a bit of a mental breakdown as of lately. But being at the high school has been so much better for me, so I am finally back to writing! I appreciate you all for your patience, and if you’re reading this, thank you for coming back :) I am currently figuring out how to make a masterlist, so hopefully that gets up soon. I have alot of oneshots in mind for Din Djarin (my beloved) and Joel Miller… But we’ll see if I ever have the time to write those. I know there’s a ton of new people to the Pedro Pascal fandom so... that makes me a little nervous. But, stay tuned! Thank you again! - Megan 

Rating: M for language, and discussions of drugs and alcohol. Future chapters will be explicit, so 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS DNI\

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: A lot of language (sorry, I have the mouth of a sailor, it’s hard to write without it), Eventual Smut (18+ FOR THE WHOLE SERIES), AFAB! Reader, HUGE divergence from canon, MeanDom!Dave York, Dom/Sub undertones, Brattysub!Reader, legal age gap relationship, Enemies to lovers, Mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, self-destructive behaviors, corrupt cops (probably only in this chapter), Politics lol, Minor violence (probably?), eventual mentions of parental abuse. 

Tags: @fatimaisabelpascal

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to dm me! 

________________________________________________________________

“Sir, yes, sir” she says before slipping into the connected bathroom to shower. Dave starts to turn away, to give her some form of privacy, but Senator Leland grabs him by the arm before they could leave. Dave watches, as the strict father act Leland was putting on earlier melts away, as he slumps against the wall near the bathroom door.

“I just… I wanna make sure she gets in okay.” Just like his daughter, Senator Leland looks completely different than how the news channels show him. Where she looks younger, and softer than the washed-up party girl TMZ shows, Till Leland looks more exhausted, and unsure of himself, compared to the confident, perfectly styled politician he saw on MSNBC. Dave, after years of service in the CIA, has a certain skill for reading people, and Dave doesn’t see Mr. Leland as a slimy, sure of himself politician, he just sees a tired father. His shirt is wrinkled, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks exhausted, like he has been up all night. Mr. Leland stands, close to his daughter private bathroom, waiting for the sound of the shower to turn on, with one of his hands pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dave takes his time to look around the girl’s room. Just like the girl herself, her room is nowhere near what Dave would’ve expected. Despite the shoes in her bed, and the mascara stains on a pristine white pillowcase, her room is perfectly kept. She has a makeup desk, with a few photos of her smiling next to a small white dog. On a shelf above her bed, she has a collection of stuffed animals, each one seems to be placed carefully, with the smaller ones in the front and center, while the larger ones are arranged in a neat row behind them. He spots a bookshelf in the corner, with a few cookbooks, The Great Gatsby, and War and Peace, Dave raises his eyebrows, genuinely impressed when he spots a tasseled bookmark, sticking out of the book, she’s almost finished with it. Dave had expected her room to be a complete mess, with dirtied clothes, bottles of pills and alcohol, and the trash overflowing, but this is the room of a normal girl. She continues to defy his expectations.

Finally, the shower starts, and Dave watches the senator’s entire body relax with relief. Senator Leland turns to Dave, “You have kids, Dave?” Dave nods, “two girls.” The senator nods… “so you… understand what I’m trying to do. I just want to make sure she’s okay… I don’t know what else to do.”

Dave doesn’t respond. Dave would stop at nothing to ensure their safety and their health. Dave has killed for much less, but for his daughters? He would make anyone, anyone who even looks his daughter’s direction with a sense of malice, suffer until they are begging for him to kill them.

He looks at the senator, he sees a distraught father, desperate to save his little girl from her own self-destruction. Dave thinks… If this was his child, he would burn down every nightclub in the state and nail her door shut. Perhaps Till Leland’s plan is just a little more level-headed. Dave has never been the best at controlling his temper, so a he understands the Senator, sure, however, he still questions how things could’ve gotten this bad with the girl.

Dave simply sets his jaw, and nods.

The senator runs a hand through his hair, sniffs and turns to Dave, shifting back into the smooth-talking senator Dave met earlier that morning. “Let me show you around the house. I can show you where you’ll be staying.”

They leave the girl’s room, and Senator Leland leads Dave to a room, only across the hall from the girl’s room. Leland opens the door, revealing a simple, but still beautiful bedroom. There it’s painted a soft gray, with dark wood floors, clearly original with the house, Dave can tell they’re aged, even though they had clearly recently been polished. There is an oak desk along the front wall, and a queen-sized bed with a white comforter on the opposite wall, with a simple nightstand beside it. Senator Leland breaks the silence “It’s not much, I know. Before my dad passed he stayed here full time.” Leland opens a door in the back corner, “You have your own restroom, shower, bath, anything you need. Dave don’t hesitate to ask for anything else. I know this job isn’t the same as a simple celebrity escort. I want to make sure you are well taken care of, so you can take the best care of my daughter.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You step out of the shower, confused, and more hungover than you’ve been in your life. You look in the mirror, and oh great you look just as fucked up as you feel. Incredible. Thinking back to the mysterious “Mr.York”  in your room, you feel the heat of embarrassment warming the back of your neck… 

No big deal, just saw the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and what a great first impression, vomiting in a trashcan… things could be worse… hopefully.

 You look in the mirror, trying to piece together the night before, attempting to shake the weight of shame, and embarrassment that’s currently making you want to melt into the cool tile of the bathroom floor. It only worsens when you remember the look on your father’s face, he hasn’t looked that disappointed since… well ever. Some shit went down last night and its driving you crazy that you can’t remember a thing.

“Whatever… can’t get worse than this.”

You throw on some clean pajamas and stumble downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you enter the dining room, you spot Mr. York and your father, facing the stairwell, looking like something out of a sitcom’s “intervention” episode. If you weren’t so nervous, (and not insane) you would consider looking for a camera.

You get your first, clear-headed look at Mr. York, and, somehow, he's even more attractive when you’re (mostly) sober. You feel a little insecure, seeing him so perfectly put together and unaffected, and here you are, with your knees turning to jell-o.

Despite your distraction with Mr. York, you can still feel the tension in the air.

You walk up to your father and wrap him in a hug, that he doesn’t return, “Morning, old man. What’s the deal? Polling numbers down?” Your dad chuckles dryly “yeah, well, they’re about to be at least.”

His voice is raspy, he sounds exhausted. You hate that he feels like this, and, although you’re not exactly a genius, you know it’s somehow because of you.

You raise an eyebrow, and plop down on the seat across from your father… You pretend to think deeply for a moment, before gasping, “Oh, shit, they found out you did acid at a Nirvana concert in 91’?” you ask, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“It was the Smashing Pumpkins, sweetheart, you know this. But no, that secret is locked away.” He smiles, and for a moment, he seems like it's just a normal morning, and that everything, deep down, is okay. But his face falls again, and he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “Honey… I love you very much, you know?”

Oh shit. This is bad, this is really bad.

You feel the color drain from your face, and your blood turns cold. You don’t trust your own voice to come out without squeaking, so you just give your dad a nervous smile.

 “You… you got arrested last night. You were found passed out in front of a nightclub, and when the cops came to help you up… you dropped a small bag of pills.” He refuses to meet your eyes, he’s chewing his lip, and takes a deep breath before he continues, “If it weren’t for the fact that Office Benson was on the scene, you would’ve been charged. Benson owes me a favor so, he confiscated the pills and let you off the hook, but honey… you had Percocet on you. Where did you even get them?”

Your head is swimming. This makes no sense, you would never, ever, get hooked on meds like that. Alcohol? You admit you tend to overindulge, but opioids? No. No way, never in a million years. You’re trying to make sense of this situation in your head, trying to figure out how to explain to your dad that you would never, you could never do that to yourself, or him. You’re shaking your head, and tears you refuse to let fall start to burn your eyes… All is made a little worse when you look up at Mr. York, who is staring at you with the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man. He’s judging your every move, he looks disgusted by you. You make eye contact, hoping he’ll soften up, but no, he just stares you down until you nervously look away.

You turn to your father, hoping that he starts laughing and this is just some sick tactic to make you straighten up, but he instead looks at you with red eyes, and “Honey, I’m just so worried about you… I can’t lose you.”

Fuck… you need a drink.

Everything, from the very moment you woke up, has just been too much. You want to leave, go to some shitty bar downtown, take a couple shots, numb these feelings that are currently making that sour taste at the back of your throat return, and maybe then you can have a civil conversation.

But it's 9am and your dad would probably die of a broken heart in front of you.

Or worse, Mr. York looks like he could kill you himself.

Instead, you resort to trying to talk, your voice warbled the tears you apparently can no longer hold back, “but… I don’t do drugs, dad, you gotta believe me I… I don’t do drugs.” Maybe if you weren’t so overwhelmed, things may have been a little more eloquent, but all things considered, you’re pretty proud of yourself for getting through that in one piece. Considering how much you feel. You feel like a child, you’re embarrassed, and scared, and… you can’t even begin to figure out how to process this. 

Your dad straightens up a little, and he clears his throat a little.

“I know, honey, I know. They did a drug test, last night at the station, you’re cleanBut someone gave these to you, and you took them. You’re losing yourself, honey, you may not see it now, but I have to watch you slowly destroy yourself, I can’t do it anymore.” He stops for a second and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, takes a deep breath, and like he’s presenting a new bill to the Senate floor he says, “honey, you have now made it clear to me that you cannot control yourself. This is no longer a simple rebellious phase.You may not see it, but I know are going to end up killing yourself and dragging me down with you if you keep going like this. You have shown me that I cannot trust you to stop, and that you will push things further and further with no regard for yourself or others. So, this is Dave York, he’s going to be your bodyguard until after the election.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so maybe you could have handled your response better. But fuck this. Fuck Percocet, mega-fuck the person who gave them to you, and seriously fuck Mr. York.

After your dad broke the news that Mr. York was essentially going to be following you around, no privacy at all, to make sure you’re in, what your dad calls, “in a better place mentally and physically”, it’s all a blur of you screaming, “fuck that”, “absolutely not”, “I’m not a fucking child”, and “I’ll do what I fucking want”. Your dad, during your (admitted) tantrum, argued back trying to reason with you, but even more infuriating, Mr. York just sat, watching you with those cold, judging eyes. His lack of response only makes you angier, you want to affect him, you want to see him get up, and tell you to get over yourself, or explain why him being your bodyguard is great, hell, even if he just laughs and agrees with you, that would’ve been better than him sitting, completely still, while you have a complete breakdown in front of him.

After your dad yelled “I won’t let you kill yourself this way, you hear me?” you just… gave up. Stormed upstairs, where you are currently screaming into your pillow.

You fuck up one time, and all of the sudden you lose all your privacy?

Okay, sure, maybe this isn’t the “one time” you fucked up. But you’re 21 years old living in Virginia Beach, where there’s literally nothing else to do except go out and drink till you blackout, but, who even cares?

You’re losing your mind. You’re shaking, and crying, and, screaming in the pillow did nothing to help the very apparent emotional break you’re currently experiencing.

Nah, fuck this.

You walk over to your dresser and pull out the flask you take with you to clubs sometimes, you’re not even sure what this is filled with anymore, and honestly?  You don’t even care. You need to calm your nerves, and you’d take a shot of fucking rubbing alcohol right now if it was offered to you.

You’re about to take a sip, about to let whatever this mystery liquor is burn down your throat, to soothe your nerves…

“I’m going to need you to put that down.”

That’s… definitely not your father’s voice. And of course, as if he appeared torment you further, you see Mr. York casually standing in the entrance of your room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

How did he even get in here so quietly?

“Fuck off, Mr. York.” You roll your eyes, “I’m in my own room, I’m not hurting anyone, get off my back.”

He doesn’t respond, just stands and watches you, like he knows that enough to make you break.

He’s right.

“Jesus Christ! I don’t need this! I don’t need a ‘bodyguard’! I don’t need you! What I need is to just… fucking calm down I can’t think straight, and I’d be a hell of a lot better if it weren’t for you standing here like a fucking serial killer. Get out!” You’re screaming at him, of course having your second temper tantrum of the morning.

And just like always, he just stands there, his arms crossed, not the slightest bit moved by your outburst.

“Are you all done?”

You laugh bitterly, “fuck you. Mr. York.” You look up at him, challenging him to say something back to you, to finally acknowledge your frustration.

He shrugs, “the little temper tantrum you put on downstairs not enough for you? Had to do it again? Are you so pissed off that you didn’t get your way? You think you can just scream your way out if it? Keep trying, maybe eventually it’ll work.” He’s leaning against your bedroom door, and he said that all like he was just reading the forecast for the week. He doesn’t even sound mad, just annoyed, as if the very fact he has to speak to you is an inconvenience to him.

Okay… so maybe him just standing there is better than him being affected by you, when he just stood there, it was a lot less embarrassing, hurt a little less. He’s staring at you, with his hand held out, waiting for you to pass over the flask, “you gonna hand that over to me or do I need to take it from you.”

You hand him the flask and get back in bed.

#Dave York #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york smut #dave york x afab reader #bodyguard!AU #Pedro Pascal #enemies to lovers #dave york fluff #slow burn #The Equalizer 2 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #my work #My writing #smut #pedro pascal smut

[pedropascalsx]

Silent - {Dave York x F! Reader.}

Summary: The follow up from that fateful night ten days ago when you’d taken it into your own hands to make sure Dave felt appreciated.

Warnings: Infidelity, unhappy marriage, Oral (M&F receiving), throat-fucking, masturbation and fingering.

Chapter: 2 of ?

Word Count: 2.6k+

A/N: Unbeta’d - will check for mistakes in the AM. I hope you like. Part one will be linked if you’ve not read it and would like to! 

Thank you to @whataperfectwasteoftime​ and @theewokingdead​ for being so wonderfully supportive and encouraging of my filthy thots. i adore you.

 Part one!

A list of errands, and the task of doing the weekly grocery shop. That’s all he had muttered to you in the past ten days, you’d taken to leaving the room with a rosy blush glowing across your cheeks when he looked at you.

He always had the same expression etched across his face. You wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to quit, apologise or do it again. His silence was deafening, and you’d promised yourself you were going to make a decision about your future and whether you could continue on as the live-in nanny for the York family. The sound of shopping bags clattering down on the marble countertops pulled you out of your daydream, and you immediately started moving the cleaning rag in your hand in tiny circles, removing the smudges form the large TV in the living room. Mrs York cleared her throat and you turned around to look at her, one hand on her hip and the other scrolling the screen of the phone she was staring down at, “Dave is taking the girls straight from school to their dance class and then swinging around to grab them dinner before bed. You’ll need to start preparing dinner for us three for around 8pm as I have a bunch of things I need to sort out before he gets home.” “Of course, Mrs. York.” You watched her climb the stairs, the bags of shopping clearly forgotten about as she made her way to the master bedroom and slammed the door behind her. You’d spent the next few hours finishing your tasks before taking fifteen minutes to freshen up before making dinner. * Pasta boiling away in the pot as the marinara sauce lightly bubbles in the pan next to it; you stir continuously and try to ignore the anxious feeling bubbling up in your tummy as you hear Dave descending the stairs. You feel the warmth of his breath lightly coat the back of your neck as he passes behind you, his body just millimetres away from touching yours. The sound of the fridge opening is enough to make you turn your gaze towards him, watching the way his shirt tightens around his broad shoulders as he reaches in to grab himself a beer. You look away just as he pulls a bottle of wine from inside the door and he places it next to you before silently walking towards the kitchen table and taking his usual seat. You both say nothing. Silence filling the air as you drain the pasta noodles and as you cautiously dish it out; feeling his heavy gaze tunnel into you. You say nothing as Carol strides into the room and takes the seat opposite her husband; her phone still glued to her hand as she barely grunts out a greeting to him. You decide in that moment that you’ll eat in your room, not wanting to feel even more uncomfortable than you already do and the thought of sharing the table with a the wife of the man who’s taste lingers on your tongue making you stomach turn. You hand them both their chicken parm and before you can escape up the stairs Carol is gesturing to the seat next to her husband, her lips poised in a stern pout that screams to do as she says. You tentatively take a seat next to the man occupying all of your thoughts, and you desperately hope he doesn’t notice the way you breath hitches as you meet his eye-line for a split second. “Just wanting to let you know that you’ll be alone on Tuesday night. I have a wedding that me and the girls will be attending and Mr York wont be back from his business trip until Wednesday morning and we will be back in the afternoon. Is this okay? I would suggest you go back to your Mothers house for the night but unfortunately I have a delivery due that evening and I can’t risk it being left outside or taken in by a neighbour.” “That’s fine, Mrs. York. Happy to stay here and collect your package.” You say with the sweetest smile you can muster, and just like that the silence falls across the room again, minus the sound of cutlery scraping across the crockery. “Did you share the new schedule for the girls dance classes with her yet?” Dave mutters across the table to his wife who at this point had reopened the facebook app was mindlessly scrolling through the lives of her fair-weather friends and occasionally taking a bite of the food you’d prepared. “Wh-? Oh. Oh no. I’ll go grab a copy of it now” she replies and you study his face, watching the way his jaw stiffens and his eyes roll back at her inability to put her phone down for just a few moments. After a quick sip of the wine you’d barely touched you reached down to pick up your fork again, ready to occupy the silence with a few more measly bites of pasta but before you can realize what’s happening his arm shoots up; grabbing your hand and leading it into his lap and pressing it against his throbbing cock. He’s rock hard and the hiss of relief he lets out at the way you slightly palm him, makes you clench. Arousal pooling up and dripping from your center as he lets your hand linger there for a few seconds, all while listening out for the sound of her feet padding back down the hallway and when they do, he rips it away. Dropping it down at your side as your eyes continue to search for him. Looking down at his dinner, he snarls out eights words, all barely audible and not quite loud enough to be considered a whisper; “This is what you fucking do to me.” You manage to rip your eyes away from his face just as she sits back down and thrusts the sheet of paper into your hands, “You’ll need to pick them up on the same days, but the times have changed.” You nod in agreement and the rest of your dinner is spent in silence. He sets off upstairs first and she follows a little after. Saying nothing at all as you load the dishes into the dishwasher and clean down the countertops. You don’t see either of them again that night. You think about him the moment you sink beneath your covers, switching the lamp off and allowing your fingers to drift downwards. Slowly circling the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit before sinking two fingers deep inside of you and pumping them in and out over and over, wondering what his thick fingers would feel like inside of you. You come hard and with a gasp of his name. You wonder if you’ll be brave enough to tell him one day, what exactly he does to you. * The day starts as every Sunday does, you get up before everyone else and go pick up the groceries for the girls school lunches that week. Swing by to pick up Daves shirts from the dry cleaners and fill Mrs York’s mercedes’ up with gas before going home and preparing lunch. You’d been informed the moment you entered the front door that the girls wanting to go swimming in their pool and Mrs York wanted it to be just a family affair. And honestly the moment you were free, you breathed a sigh of relief at the news. Needing to catch up on some work for college and not wanting to find yourself staring uncontrollably at your boss in his swim shorts. So you happily unpacked the groceries and slid down the hall into the downstairs office that was rarely used and set up your laptop. Letting yourself get caught up in finishing the essay that was getting dangerously close to its submission deadline. Being so entranced in your own work that you didn’t hear the door open and or notice your boss slipping in the room, closing the door behind you and standing in front of the desk; beads of water still dripping down his broad bare chest. The gasp you let out at the sight in front of you made him raise an eyebrow and he bit back the urge to grin at the way your eyes ran up and down the length of him as you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. He pushed down the lid of your laptop before taking a step to the side and standing directly in front of you. Taking a moment to appreciate the way your chest heaved up and down in the white sundress you were adorning as your eyes locked in with his. His fingertips lightly traced the skin of your left arm, slowly dragging them down until the reach the thin black band around your wrist. He picked up your arm and slowly pulled the hair tie free, a hitch in your breath made him very lightly chuckle and then he let your arm free; both his hands reaching across to grip the bottom of your chin and tilt your face up towards his. The gentle way he was touching you was almost unfitting to the way he was glaring down on you, a dark lust filled gaze keeping your eyes focused on him as he slowly tucked the strands of hair framing your face towards the back of your head, gently weaving his fingers through your hair as he bunched it together and placed it back into a simple ponytail. For a few seconds he let his fingers linger on your face, gently rubbing his thumbs across your cheekbones before letting them fall down towards your lips and pushing two thick fingers into your mouth. Thrusting them in and out, as your own fingers found their way to the waistband of his swim shirts; you’d barely gotten his cock free before he was pulling your mouth open wider and thrusting himself inside of it. One hand gripped your ponytail whilst the other gripped the bottom of your chin. You hummed around him as he began rocking his hips and thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, groaning at the way you hollowed your cheeks around him and unwillingly let out a few gasps as you tried to focus breathing through your nose. He inched himself deeper and deeper until your nose was nestled against the patch of hair as the base of him. You swallowed hard to keep yourself for choking as he kept himself completely still, letting himself grunt in pleasure a few times before pulling you off of him. He looked down at you for a few moments, staring silently whilst enjoying the wrecked look on your face, big tears streaming down your face, mascara smudged under your eyes and your lips curled upwards into a filthy smile. He let his finger lightly trace your bottom lip before opening your mouth up and resuming fucking your face, the pace faster than before but sloppier as he neared his high. You hummed around him once more as started to spill himself in your mouth, swallowing every drop he gifted you and letting him use you exactly as he needed until he was entirely spent. You watched as he tucked himself back into his swim shorts before slipping out of the room, the sound of his footsteps slapping against the wooden steps filling your ears. You stayed completely still and intoxicated on his taste for an unknown amount of time before making the effort to tread down to the bathroom and wash your face. * The rest of the day went by in a blur, washing the families soaking wet swim clothes and towels, then watching Encanto for the 50th time this week with the girls before ordering pizza and submitting the essay you’d managed to finish after composing yourself. You decided to go to bed around 9pm having finished your tasks and knowing you had an earlier start the next day. So you said a brief goodnight to Carol who was engrossed in some random movie you’d never heard of and you skipped off up towards your room. It wasn’t until your hand was resting on your doorknob that you noticed the door to Daves home office was slightly ajar, the light still on, but the room appearing to be entirely silent. So, you took the few strides towards the door ready to just flick the switch off and close it up before noticing him sat behind his desk. A slight nod of his head invited you in and you wasted no time in closing the door as quietly as you could behind him. You stood in the same spot next to the door and watched as he rose from his seat, slowly walking around and perching himself on the side of the large desk before lightly tapping on the open space beside him. With every step you took towards him, you felt a stronger sense of anticipation bubble up inside of you, a delicious feeling of danger building in the pit of your tummy. When you reached the front of his desk he raised a single finger as a sign for you to stay still and he rose up and you shivered in excitement as he stood behind you. Rolling the straps of your dress off of your shoulders and letting it fall on a heap on the floor, before slowly rubbing his nose across your shoulders, the heat of his breath tickling your soft skin as he did so. And without warning you felt him drop to his knees, hands running up and down the backs of your legs as he slowly moved them apart. His hands move up to push against your back, pushing you to lean across his desk before them pulled your panties down in one clean sweep. You had to clasp your hands to your mouth to stop the loud moan threatening to escape through your lips as he buried his face in your pussy. His nose slightly pressing into your entrance as he tongue flickered perfectly against your clit, his lips closing around the little bud as he sucked it a few times before lapping at it again. The quiet sounds he made as ate you pussy were sinful, the precision he used as he licked desperately at your clit coaxed with orgasm out of you within minutes. Your thighs continued to shake as he lapped at every drop of arousal, drinking it all in before rising up to his feet. A strong hand settled between your shoulders as you attempted to rise back up and then you felt two fingers trace your slit. Slowly dragging up and down before sinking into you heat and furiously pumping in and out, the filthy noises filling the room making your cheeks blush as he found that spongey spot inside of you. “Fuck” he gritted out from behind his teeth, “Can you hear that? So fucking wet for me, baby.” You bit down onto your fingers as he increased the pace of his pumping, his fingers hitting something glorious with every deep thrust. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, sweet girl… god that night you sucked by cock, I was hard again in minutes… had to fuck my fist before getting into bed because I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking pretty you looked with my cock stuffed inside your mouth.” Stars exploded in front of your eyes as your came hard and spectacularly on his hand, drenching him in your arousal as you did so. “Good girl” he drawled out before slowly removing his fingers from your heat. The sound of him sucking them clean of your wetness making you moan as you slowly lift yourself upright. “If you continue being such a good girl for me, i’ll make sure i get home in time to spend Tuesday night with you pretty girl” he mutters into your ear before leaving alone naked and blissed out in his home office.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york smut #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #dave york x ofc #dave york fanfic #my fanfic #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #the equalizer 2 #equalizer 2