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kirsteng42 · 2 days ago
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I loved this, Dave getting a life he deserves with his girls 🥰🥰
Countdown to a Kiss
Dave York x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: General audiences, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: None to speak of, really? Food and alcohol, brief clothing/outfit mention. Single Dad Dave and Single Mom Reader. Flirting. Fluff. Implied sex. Summary: Attending a New Years Eve fundraiser at your daughter's school doesn't seem quite so daunting when you get to spend the night with her best friend's single father - Dave York. Notes: Happy 2025, everyone! A little festive fic to ring in the new year 🍾🎆 (As always, the gif is just for vibes, not for physical representation of the reader.)
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Dave doesn’t move like he used to. There’s muscle weakness. He sometimes limped. His grip strength in his right hand - his dominant hand - is significantly less than what he was just a year ago. It was better than it had been right after the hours of surgery he had endured, but he would never be what he was. Be it a blessing or a curse, Dave York was different.
However, how could he say no to those warm, gentle brown eyes when they look up at him with so big a pleading? Looking so much like his own without the cynicism and rancor he had developed over time. Little Molly hadn’t had the hard life lessons he had, and he hopes she never does. Alice, older, more observant, is slightly more jaded but she had been old enough to understand that someone had hurt her daddy when he had been trapped on that hospital bed for weeks. He had avoided telling her the truth, but she was also smart as a whip. She didn’t believe him when he said it had been an accident.
“You girls really want to go to this New Year’s dance?” He asks, glancing at both of them as the three of them stand in line at the grocery store with the supplies for the grilled chicken dinner he had planned. Since Carol had left, grilling had been his go-to for meat, since he hated the dry, pan fried pork chops she had served him for years.
“Yes!” Both of them immediately answer, nearly shouting and Dave sees several people glance his way and shift uncomfortably at the sight of the deep, ugly scar over his eye. He had just been lucky to keep the damn thing, so it doesn’t bother him. His girls still look at him, so that’s all that matters. “Please? Please, daddy?” Molly begs, making Dave soften, even though he had already decided to go.
“Alriiiiiiiiiight.” He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes because it makes them giggle. “We’ll go to the New Year’s Dance.”
Carol had been the shrewdest of the three women in his life. As was her right. He had married her for her beauty and her brains, but it seemed that when it came to her heart, even Carol York had limits.
The divorce had been ruthless, with Carol keeping the house in DC and two of the three cars. She combed the accounts -- the ones she knew about -- for all the assets she could possibly lay claim to. And she'd thrown away the girls just as quickly as she had their marriage. It was her claim that she wanted nothing to do with them in case they turned out like him.
So that was it. Dave, Alice, and Molly were on their own.
He had moved them away. Away from the mother that didn't want them and memories of the past. Mainly moving away so that he could make sure that Robert McCall didn't know he was still alive.
He didn't want to deny them much, so he had enrolled them in a private school. The best in the area. Hoping that the structure would keep them on track after Carol had let their schooling slip when he was in the hospital.
The first few months seemed to go alright. Molly had made several new friends, always being the outgoing type, but more reserved Alice had made only one. Still, Dave counted that as a positive. One new friend was better than none, and it boded well for her.
Dave had accounts Carol had never known about, would never know about. She had signed away all of her rights in exchange for no child support. He didn't need money from her, able to buy a house that was better than the one in D.C., even if it was smaller. He could hire a sitter for the girls if he needed but his business allows him to work from home and take the girls with him when necessary. He didn't kill anymore, but he didn't need to.
As a security consultant, he was able to navigate his business and his family life as needed. The newest piece of that puzzle was the girls’ school. Because of the nature of the school he was sending the girls to now, with its occasional political family, old money benefactors, and celebrity children all in the mix, they did require a level of finesse that he wasn’t much used to from a school. Their barbecues were practically Michelin star and their talent shows could have been Broadway caliber. The annual PTA fundraiser was a New Years Eve party that was so swanky it could have been mistaken for a Hollywood soirée.
"I guess we will have to find dresses for you girls." He muses, making a face that makes Molly giggle and Alice roll her eyes. His girls are beautiful and he hates that they are growing up far faster than they should.
"And you a pretty suit!" Molly reminds him.
"Daddy has pretty suits." Alice reminds her sister, and he can see the wheels of her clever little mind turning already. "The one that has the two rows of buttons," she tells her father, chin turned up to look all the way up at him. "Makes you look like a black and white movie."
He lifts a brow, the one that isn't scarred, at her comment. "That one, huh?" He asks, amused, although she has always had a flair for fashion. Her dress up clothes were always neat and coordinated. She hadn't been one to wear the same princess dress for months at a time. "You think I should shave?" He asks, rubbing the slightly unkempt stubble on his chin. Growing out a beard wasn't working for him, it was growing in patchy.
"Yeah!" Alice nods enthusiastically, but then seems to think better of the idea and frowns. "Shave your chin."
"Shave my chin." He barks out a laugh and nods, "message received." He hums as the three of them move up in the line to start putting their groceries on the conveyor belt. "I'll shave my chin."
"Marnie's gonna wear pink to the party." Alice reports, solemnly and with an air that said it would definitely affect the decision of what she would wear. But to her father, she adds, "Our party is different from your party."
"What happens at your party, baby?" He reaches out and strokes her back. He always wants her to be able to talk to him, to confide in him.
"It's called a Sock Hop." Her tone implies that since she had never heard the term before, she's absolutely certain her father hasn't either. "And there's gonna be pizza and ice cream and the teachers are gonna play games with us."
“That sounds like fun.” He offers, knowing he would like that party more than the one that they want him to attend. He doesn’t have much in common with the wealthy parents so he won’t have much conversation during the party.
"Do you know what your party will be like, Daddy?" Molly asks, equally excited to go to a sock hop with all of her new friends.
“No pizza.” That he knows for sure. “But I’m sure there will be music and dancing.”
"No pizza?" His younger daughter looks positively affronted at that idea. "How do you have a party without pizza?"
“I don’t know.” He nods to the cashier, watching her glance at his eye and then at the girls warily. He’s used to it, but it still stings sometimes, before this, he has been a pretty good looking guy. Nothing astonishing, but he had more than a few women giving him an interested glance. Now they just look at him and wonder what happened to his face. They wouldn’t even know how to react to the other scars he wears from that day. “I’ll have to report back if I survive.”
"Daddy." Alice scolds with a very serious expression. "You'll be fine." Sometimes she sounds so much like her mother that it stings. Sometimes, like now, she sounds like his mother.
“Are you sure?” He asks, pulling out his wallet to pay. “Because I’m not so sure.”
"Alice is always sure," Molly reminds him. The air of a little sister admiring the hell out of her big sister is obvious, and Dave can't help but grin.
The cashier seems to soften slightly, seeing his interaction with his daughters and she doesn't seem so hesitant when she gives him the total. He pays and loads up the groceries, letting the girls chatter between themselves as he wheels the cart out to the parking lot and nearly runs into a cart rushing into the store. "Whoa!" He yanks it back just in time and looks up, about to say something snarky when he sees that it's you. Marnie, your daughter, already lunging forward to hug Alice while letting out an ear piercing squeal that only pre-teen girls manage. It makes his tinnitus flare up sometimes.
The commotion drowns out your gentle scolding, and Marnie isn’t listening anyway. You’ll remind her afterward that she has to stay safe and aware of herself in parking lots — right now she’s too busy hugging the life out of Alice York and won’t listen to a thing that comes out of your mouth.
Frazzled single mom isn’t normally the look you go for but today has been a doozy, and you know your hair is a bit unkempt and your clothes not as neat and tidy as you would prefer. It wouldn’t matter to you except that you’ve run into your daughter’s best friend at the supermarket — which means he is here too. Alice’s father, Dave. Ridiculously hot, mysterious, definitely has seen some shit in his life but loves his girls so much, Dave.
“Fancy meeting you here,” you joke, lamely, and wish you had just stopped to run a comb through your hair before you left the house.
"Odd thing, that need for food." Dave always thinks that you are nervous around him. Little tics showing up every time you run into each other. Shifting, sometimes tripping over your words. He tries to be friendly to put you at ease, but it seems to never help. "You two busy today?" He maneuvers the cart over a half a foot and reaches out gently to guide yours to the side as well the man behind you can slip past. Not ready to let the conversation die just yet, his excuse will be the girls, but that's not completely it.
“The usual Saturday chaos,” you tell him, letting out a poorly disguised nervous laugh. He’s so stupidly attractive that it makes you flighty. Like a teenager with her first real crush. It’s probably that he’s the first person you’ve been genuinely attracted to since the divorce and that also makes you nervous. “Errands, swim lessons, going to grandma’s house. How about you guys?”
"Karate, lunch out, going to the park." He shrugs. "Now the age old question of 'what's for dinner?' has been answered." He motions to the bags. "Grilled chicken and asparagus, mashed potatoes and a salad. One of those caesar kits Molly loves."
“That sounds positively gourmet.” From everything you know about Dave York — which is admittedly not much — he dotes on his girls completely and takes incredible care of them. Which frankly, only makes him more attractive. “I think my mom was talking about meatloaf tonight.”
"Meatloaf is delicious." Dave agrees. "I've just never been able to make it." He misses Carol's recipe, but she wouldn't give it to him to make for the girls. All the ones online didn't sound similar to it so he had essentially given up the search.
“It’s not easy. My Mom’s is always infinitely better than mine.” You glance at your daughter and laugh. “Or so I’m told.”
“Oh yeah. I love the comparisons.” Dave snorts, rolling his eyes.
“So, um…” Watching the girls chatter excitedly for a long moment, you bite back your nerves and decide that you’re asking for Marnie. That’s it. Just for your daughter. And not at all for your own selfish interest. “Did you get the annual fundraiser notice?”
"I did." He nods, wondering if you will go. He knows that you aren't quite like the other parents either. He's always assumed that’s why you are a little more friendly with him than the other mothers. Your daughter attends the private school because it was a part of your divorce settlement. At least, that was what was whispered behind cocktail glasses at the first and last PTA meeting Dave attended. "The girls just begged me to go. So I have to ask, what shade of pink is Marnie wearing?" He had been informed there are many types of pink when he had gotten the wrong one once for the Barbie movie he took the girls to see.
“Ah, yes, I heard about the Barbie movie debacle.” It eeks a grin out of you, because despite Dave being a girl dad you don’t see him as a pink kind of guy. “That would be baby pink. I managed to unearth an old Pink Ladies costume from many moons ago and I’m altering it for her.”
"Baby pink." He nods and pulls out his phone to make a note. "I'm going to take them dress shopping tomorrow I guess." He looks up. "Are you going to the adult party?" He tries to keep the question casual, like he's just curious.
“I thought I might put in an appearance.” It makes the most sense for you to go. It’s better than spending New Year’s Eve at home with a bottle of wine and take out, anyway. Or, at least, you tell yourself it is. All those gossipy PTA parents know far too much about your divorce and all sigh about how much they miss seeing your ex-husband at events. The best you can figure, the Moms all miss drooling over him. You don’t want to think about how many of them he actually might have slept with. Keeping the girls in that school is good for them, but it’s a punishment for you.
"Me too." He sends you a commiserating look and shrugs. "Beats being alone and then having to pick the girls up later." He reasons.
"Daddy!" Alice's eyes widen like she's just thought of the greatest idea ever. "Why doesn't Marnie spend the night?" She asks excitedly. "After the dance. Please? Please? It would be so much fun!"
Marnie immediately jumps on that idea, pleading along with Alice the way only best friends can. You never really mind sleepovers, but you don’t know how Dave feels about them. “That’s a long night sweetie. The party is late at night.”
Dave is a sucker for the girls, maybe a little too soft, but after everything he thinks they deserve a little bit of spoiling. Nearly dying had truly put his priorities in order. "I don't mind." He offers. "If you don't." He shrugs. "Give you a night off if you want."
“As long as that’s okay with you.” It won’t be too much, after all. The girls will crash soon after getting home and you’ll come by early to pick up Marnie the next day.
He teases the girls by making them wait for a minute more, Alice and Marnie practically bouncing on their toes and Molly is just as excited because her older sister doesn't leave her out of fun with her friend. "Well, I guesssssss." He draws out, grinning when they start cheering and dancing in the entryway to the grocery store.
“You know what that means, girls,” You remind them in your best mom voice. “It’s still three weeks away, and Christmas is still coming, so we’re all going to be extra good. Right?”
He approves of the bribe, it's a good one and he nods in agreement when they glance over at him. "Gotta be good." He tells Marnie. "Help your mom out, m'kay?"
“Okay, Mr. York!” She’d do just about anything in the world to be able to spend time with Alice, so it isn’t much of a stretch to have her agree here.
Now that there is a plan, he hums. "We should probably go get dinner started, girls." He tells them, ignoring the whining groans and looks over at you. "Have a good night."
“Have a good night.” Your voice echoes his with a hint of a smile, bundle your daughter into the store to let the Yorks get on with their day. If you take a second glance behind you as you walk into the store…well…that’s perfectly fine. He didn’t catch you checking him out and you’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to have impure thoughts now and again.
******
It's a hassle, tying a perfect double windsor knot but the girls had insisted that he wear the polka dotted tie with his double breasted suit. He has to admit that it looks good with the crisp white shirt and pocket square against the dark charcoal of the suit. He had scrapped the hair off his chin but left the mustache, giving him a slightly darker, cleaner look.
Alice and Molly are in complementary pink and white dresses — Alice’s is more pink and Molly’s is more white, at their insistence — and their hair is done up in painstaking curls. Dave has had to learn, but the curve was unforgiving and steep.
Together they look exceptionally smart, and Molly giggles in the living room as her father adjusts his appearance for the eighth time in as many minutes. “Daddy looks handsome,” she points out to her older sister, who had very definite opinions about their father’s appearance tonight.
"You forgot cologne, daddy." She points out, arching a brow to look just like he used to when he would give her that look. He huffs slightly. "Why do I need to smell good?" He argues, although he is already starting to head towards the bedroom again to put some on. "It's not like I'm impressing anyone." He mutters to himself.
The ride to the girls’ school is full of upbeat pop music that Alice had picked out. She decided that she wanted to get excited but instead of listening to the 50s and 60s music that will get played at the party, she opted for the Barbie soundtrack yet again.
The music is definitely not to Dave's tastes and it makes his ears want to bleed, but he focuses on driving so he can ignore it. Now he understands how some targets caved under the pressure of torture. This is torture.
The girls sing along and giggle happily, keeping the volume in the car high all the way to the school. The kids’ party is in the gymnasium so he parks the SUV in the lot there and gathers them up, fully expecting that Alice will bolt the second she sees Marnie.
Dave adjusts his tie and suit jacket before he takes Molly’s hand. Proud of how confidently she walks towards the entrance to the building where he will drop them off for their party, he runs into you and Marnie.
The girls squeal, running to each other and wrapping up in enthusiastic hugs, and you’re left laughing with Marnie’s coat in your hands. “Well that’s certainly one way to say hello,” you admit, shaking your head a little as you turn to say hello to Dave. The word sticks in your throat, though, when you get a glimpse of him. All cleaned up in a double-breasted suit with a beautiful silk tie, clean shaven except for an incredibly debonair mustache…Dave York looks like a 1940s matinee idol. He could give Humphrey Bogart such a run for his money that Bogey would be broke on the sidewalk. “H—hi.” You finally manage to stammer out, instinctively hugging your long wool coat a little tighter around yourself.
“Hi.” He nods respectfully and sees you shiver. “Come on girls.” He calls out. “Let’s get you checked in.”
“It was so sweet of you to offer to take the girls tonight.” The five of you go in together, finding long tables set up in the school gym for check in with smiling teachers who are hopefully being paid a whole lot of overtime. “I have Marnie’s bag in the car and I promise I won’t be late in the morning to get her.”
Dave frowns and shakes his head. “You should sleep in.” He huffs. “The girls will either sleep in like the dead or be up at the crack of dawn. Either way, I’ll be up.” He chuckles. “I promised them New Year’s Day waffles.”
“You’re a miracle.” You laugh, knowing waffles are your daughter’s favorite food on the planet. Waffles, chicken tenders, and carrot sticks would be the only thing she ate if she fixed her own food. “How about I give you a call when I wake up and you can let me know how the girls are managing?” It had become necessary to exchange numbers ages ago when the girls had their first playdate, but you have never abused the privilege. Even if you had started at his contact info a little too intensely once or twice after an extra glass of wine at night.
He chuckles, ignoring the startled looks from the teachers checking in the girls. Some people find it amazing that he laughs or can joke around. “That sounds good. And if you’re hungover, a waffle bar cures all ills.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll avoid that,” you murmur, momentarily averting your eyes so he doesn’t see how damned soft you get at the sound of his laugh. It seems to you that Dave York doesn’t laugh nearly enough. “I do have to drive myself home, after all.”
“If you need a ride, you just let me know.” He murmurs seriously. He wants you to enjoy yourself. He might have a drink but he never drank much before either. It wasn’t a good idea in his former profession.
Before you can get too flustered or trip over your words at such a simple show of manners, it’s suddenly your turn to check Marnie in for the kids’ party.
Her teacher flashes you an expectant smile. “Marnie and Alice, my dynamic duo. Come on over!”
Dave has to check both girls in, so he sidles up behind you. It almost makes the five of you seem like a family, eager to enjoy the night.
The same thought occurs to you, but it feels dangerous to dwell in it. You’ve had this lingering whatever this feeling is for Dave since you met him a few months ago and you can’t let it get out of hand.
Once the teacher has checked the girls in, they give Dave a hug, only because he insists. Both of them are eager to get to the fun. “Have a great time, girls.” He tells them. “I’m right next door if you need anything.”
Marnie gets the same hug and cheerful goodbye, and for a second it really is like you’re here with Dave instead of just at the same time. The silence lingers for a moment before you chuckle under your breath. “Somehow I think the food is going to be better at their party than ours,” you joke. The list of pizzas that have been ordered is out on a nearby table and you just know the food for the adults will be pretentious fine dining.
Dave snorts and nods. “I’ve never liked escargot. No matter how many times someone tries to convince me that it’s good.” He sees you playing with the edges of your coat. It seems to be a nervous tic. “Come on.” He offers his arm since it’s the polite thing to do and those heels look dangerous. “Why don’t I buy you the first of the overpriced  gin and tonics made with mediocre, well quality gin?”
“Sounds absolutely perfect.” The offer of his arm is downright gallant, and though you’re loath to make the comparison, for a moment you struggle to remember a single time your ex ever did something as chivalrous as offer you his arm or even open a door for you.
The two of you walk down the lit path towards the social hall of the school. Where the adults party was being held. It’s romantic with the white lights wrapped in the bushes and around the trees. Making him wonder if you wish you had brought a date.
Struggling for anything else to latch on to, you glance up at the man beside you and offer him a smile. “They did a nice job with the decorations this year.” Along with the silver lights all around you, there are golden lanterns near the entrance of the social building and you can see shimmering decorations inside along the hall.
“They know how to throw a party.” He agrees. “The last school the girls were in, they would have multicolored lights and handmade baubles.” He tells you. “Not bad, but a very different vibe.”
“Honestly?” You shrug a little. “I miss that kind of stuff. Marnie was in public school when she was little and loved all those homemade events. I did too.”
“Yeah.” Dave sighs softly. “I didn’t get to keep any of the homemade ornaments from when the girls were younger.” It didn’t make sense, since she didn’t want the girl, but he hadn’t argued. He just wanted to be done with everything.
“Neither did I.” Absolute bullshit that that was, but it’s a whole different story. “Divorce brings out the fucked up tendencies in people, if you’ll excuse my language.”
“Nothing to excuse.” He promises. “I completely agree with that sentiment.”
“Your girls are great though.” You can promise him that, even after a few months. “You got the good end of the deal with them.”
“I wasn’t going to let them be anywhere else other than with me.” Dave assures you. “Carol didn’t want custody at all.”
“Nick wanted just summer vacations.” You roll your eyes about the ridiculous way your ex had approached custody during the divorce. “Luckily for me, the judge wasn’t having any of his nonsense. She told him that Marnie was his child, not his accessory. I got full custody.”
“Good.” He nods and steps forward to open the door for you. Hating to lose the contact, even if you were holding his arm, but it’s good manners.
“Thank you.” It seems silly to be flustered over something so basic, but here you are. Swooning at common courtesy and letting him sweep you inside like a paper doll. “That’s…um…you know you don’t have to do that?”
“What? Hold the door open for a pretty lady?” Dave asks, smirking slightly. “It’s my pleasure, believe me.”
In your wildest dreams you can pretend that he’s flirting with you, so for now you will simply take the compliment and pretend. “Well…thank you. Here, um…” Suddenly you’re nervous and it feels so silly. “It looks like they turned the first room over here into a coat check.”
Dave doesn’t have a coat to check, but he goes over with you, watching as you untie the belt and his mouth dries up the second you slide the jacket off your shoulders. You look stunning. A blue dress, covered in gold stars, hugging your curves in all the right places and dipping down between your breasts. Now the starburst earrings make sense.
"What?" He's staring at you when you turn around and you panic. "Do I have something on my face? Have I had lipstick on my teeth the whole time?"
“No, uh, no.” Dave shakes his head quickly, feeling bad that he had made you panic. “I just- I was -“ what was he doing? Other than staring? “You look great.” He offers, feeling foolish for gawking like a teenager peeping on the girl’s locker room.
"Oh." Without your coat on, you feel a little shyer, but considering you played out a little fantasy in your head of Dave complimenting you in this dress and then it happened? You're just going to go on smiling and feeling good about this decision. "You clean up pretty well, too, you know."
“The girls dressed me.” It’s true, Alice had told him what to wear, so she had essentially dressed him.
You can't help but laugh at that, knowing how opinionated those girls can be. "She did a very good job."
“Thank you.” The signin desk is more of a payment station. ‘Donations’ for the party suggested. There are also drink tickets for sale and Dave decides he will buy some, even if he’s not drinking.
The tussle of protest ends with Dave the victor anyway, but at least you're satisfied that you made enough of an offer that he didn't feel obligated. He offers you his arm again and the gentle fantasy of this being an actual date seems closer with every step. "Maybe we'll get lucky," you offer, chatting because you're nervous. "And there won't be escargot."
“Pizza rolls.” He leans over and murmurs quietly. “Pray for pizza rolls.” It’s a joke, but his girls could live off of them if he let them.
"Ooo, yes." The snack food was never anything you had a taste for before, but now they are a welcome lunch option with a salad. "Or a bacon grilled cheese." You flash him a grin. "No crust, obviously."
“Of course not.” Dave rolls his eyes playfully and wonders if you are finding the conversation just as easy as he is. It was never just this simple to laugh and joke with Carol. “Crust ruins it.”
The main room of the building has been decorated just as well as the rest of the grounds, and as you walk through the door you're greeted with hundreds of glitter twinkle lights. The room seems to drip with them, like fantastical icicles in a winter fairy land. Whoever organized the decor for this party seems to have been told that everything should fall in the middle of a Venn diagram of Frozen and Bridgerton, so while there are delicate things and somehow it became magical instead of cheesy.
It’s a little ostentatious for him.  ‘Froufrou’ as his grandmother would say. Brass bells and real fern sprigs make up the centerpieces, along with  tapered candles, already lit and burning down. The tables are set with gold, and silver plates, crisp snowy white napkins that will be grease splatter and stained by the end of the night, and a bar that is presumably well stocked off to the side of the dance floor.
"It's so pretty," you breathe, completely by accident. You definitely meant to keep that thought inside just in case he disagreed, but it's out in the open now.
“And expensive.” Dave chuckles, catching the view of you discreetly gawking. “But, it’s pretty.”
"I'm sure they had decor leftover from previous Christmas parties and winter formals." It's too late to disguise the expression of delight on your face, though, so you just down play it with practicality. "Saves on the decorating costs."
“It’s okay to like it.” Dave promises, hating that you seem to deflate a little. He doesn’t want that. “I think they hit their target.”
"Sad single moms?" You laugh it off, putting that smile back on your face. No one likes a morose girl on their arm, your mother's voice says in your head. "How about we hit the bar?"
“That sounds like a plan.” He doesn’t offer you his arm, but his hand slides around you to your back as he starts to guide you towards the actual bar they have hauled in. “Gin and tonic?” He asks, knowing they are your favorite.
"Please." One word is all you can manage, but at least your smile is far more genuine with the feeling of his warm hand against you. It feels surreal and has you bordering on giddy -- practically forgetting that you had just been edging on embarrassment seconds ago.
Dave hums. “I’ll have one drink with you and then I’ll be the responsible one.” He makes it sounds like you’re a couple, but even if you wanted to venture out, he would make sure you got home safely.
"Don't let me spoil your fun," you insist, so used to the way your ex used to be so vocal about needing a few drinks to unwind.
“I don’t drink very often.” Dave admits quietly. “I’ll probably carry around this one until the ice melts.” He shrugs. “I don’t like not being in control of myself.”
"That is...a solid point." And a comfort that you hadn't been aware you would be glad to hear of. "I usually don't have more than one or two when I'm out," you tell him, getting into line at the bar when you arrive. "There's always someone else to take care of, or I need to be able to drive, or any other of a million reasons not to have more."
“So if you want to let loose a little tonight….” He lifts a brow. “Feel free, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “I’d say you deserve it.”
"We'll see." Although you can feel something deep in your chest fairly flutter at being called 'sweetheart'. "Do too much and I'll end up crashing the sleepover by sleeping it off on your couch."
He smirks slightly. “Don’t think that would be a bad thing.”
Before you can demure or tut, the pair of you reach the front of the line and the cheerful bartender defers to Dave to take both of your orders. Even with -- or perhaps sometimes because of -- his injuries, he has an air of a man who is in control no matter what the circumstance. And frankly? You've always found that as comforting as it is attractive.
“Gin and tonic for the lady and a whiskey sour.” Dave orders, sliding two of the overpriced tickets over to the bartender and then pulling out cash to put in the tip jar. Just because the drinks are expensive doesn’t mean the bartenders are getting a cut.
Generosity is rewarded with quick service and heavy pours, and soon enough you have your drinks in hand so you can wander away to join the quickly growing party. Waiters make their way through the crowds with trays of appetizers and a few people are already making their way out to the dance floor as couples and groups begin to arrive in earnest after dropping their kids off in other parts of campus.
“I don’t see any slimy snails.” He leans in to whisper in your ear, smirking slightly. “So far, so good. But not a pizza roll in sight.”
His breath in your neck makes you shiver unexpectedly and you’re not at all sure you hid it well. “We’ll have to file a complaint with the PTA,” you whisper back.
“What I wouldn’t do for a jalapeño popper.” He groans. “Or a plate of chicken wings.”
“I think we would both just rather be at a sports bar,” you observe, laughing at the obvious difference between that setting and this. “For no other reason than the snacks.”
“Sounds like.” He shrugs, knowing this is for the girls school, so it’s supposed to be a good cause. Just because it’s not his scene doesn’t mean others - you - won’t enjoy it.
"Maybe another time." It's just a thing to say. It's not necessarily an offer, or even a request, just the acknowledgement that you would both enjoy it. And that is enough.
“Yeah?” He’s surprised by that. It sounds like you’d like to go to a sports bar with him.
"I mean..." You could swear there is hope in his voice, and you look up with raised eyebrows. "If you want to? I mean stuff like this is beautiful once in a while but...I don't know. I think you can only go to these things all the time if you're fancy at heart. And I'm pretty sure that I'm comfy at heart."
“Comfy.” He chuckles at the way you describe yourself. “There’s this place I go to where the girls can come too.” He tells you. “Great potato skins and they love the fried pickles.”
“Yeah?” This time it’s your voice that holds hope, like he could actually be wanting to spend time with you and not just because your daughters are best friends.
“Mister York.” The excited tone of voice makes him wince slightly, turning to find the headmistress of the school barreling towards the two of you. She is the only one that knows that Dave wired the payment for the year for both girls directly, so he’s sure she’s hoping to lighten his pockets considerably. “So glad you could make it!”
“Whoops,” you mutter under your breath, obviously implying that avoiding this woman for the night is now a goal that cannot be met. There’s no reason Janice Harritt would want to speak to you, especially at a fundraiser, so you smile politely but aren’t surprised when she can’t manage to summon your name right away despite Marnie having attended her school for four years.
“Mister York.” Despite the smarmy tone, he sees the way her eyes flicker over his scar and there is a slight bobble to her throat where she swallows slightly before her hawkishly charming smile is plastered on. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She asks, obviously fishing for compliments as she gestures around. “The food is incredible. And the bar is stocked. What more could you ask for tonight?” She asks, looking back at him for approval.
Dave is an asshole. He knows this, and he’s quite proud of it most times. He sticks his tongue in his cheek and represses a grin. “Pizza rolls.” He answers seriously.
You snort, unable to contain the sound, and cover your face with one hand immediately to try to cover it with a small cough. A cough which isn’t really fooling anyone, but at least you manage to hide the fact that you’re trying not to laugh.
“I’m…sorry?” Harritt’s eyes betray her confusion, but she plays it off with a laugh. “Perhaps next year, hmm? We look forward to many years with your delightful girls, of course.”
“Of course.” Since he’s thrown her off kilter so badly, she quickly rushes off, calling out to another important parent. Leaving Dave to turn to you and arch a brow. “What did I say?” He asks sarcastically.
"I don't think she even knew the words 'pizza' and 'roll' could go next to each other in a sentence," you laugh, snorting again because you just can't help it.
“And she’s supposed to teach kids?” Dave snorts. “That’s making me question her credentials.”
"I don't think she's set foot in a classroom except to scold for a decade." A shrug of your shoulders is casual enough, but you're relaxed with Dave. Even if your belly is fluttering like a teenager with a crush, that's still more relaxed than you are most of the time. "Headmistress, remember?"
He rolls his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah yeah.” He grumbles. “Best leaders get their hands dirty.”
“I couldn’t agree more. But people like that are rarely into getting their hands dirty.”
“Very true.” He points over to a table. “Want to sit or do you want to mingle?” He asks, sure that if you want to go your own way, you would.
"Honestly?" The impulse to just tell him the truth comes out of left field, but it's there and it's strong. So you have another sip of liquid courage and offer him a smile. "If you weren't here tonight, I would probably only show my face long enough for it to register with the PTA that I was here, and then I would sneak off and read in my car until the kids' party was over. So mingling is...not in my plan, so to speak."
“No to mingling.” He nods, feeling a little proud of the fact that you would want to spend time with him. “Since we’re being honest, I have a question for you.” He sees you frown in confusion. “You don’t seem afraid of me? Why?”
"Why would I be afraid of you?" You ask honestly, not at all understanding at first. About two seconds after the question is out of your mouth, the realization dawns on you and you wave one hand to brush the question away. "Because of the scar? I just...I might be wrong, but I just assumed you might have been military? My uncle had a nasty limp and burn scars from Iraq. So I didn't--I guess I didn't really think about it after the first assumption. Which I now realize is stupid, because we always teach kids not to assume, but I did."
“I was in the military.” He acknowledges that. “Got out when a building collapsed with my team inside.” He chuckles, “but that didn’t cause this.” He tells you, gesturing to his face. “You just never seemed to be intimidated by my silence or the fact that I have resting asshole face.”
"Well...?" Taking another sip from your drink, you step up to a high top table just big enough for two when he steers you toward it and set both your glass and purse down comfortably. "You've always been nice to me, and you're sweet to Marnie. That's all that matters to me."
“She’s a good kid.” Dave assures you. He wouldn’t have let that friendship blossom if he thought she wasn’t.
"She's the best thing I've ever done." His commendation will stay close to your heart and you wouldn't mind admitting that at all. "And she has great taste in best friends."
“Alice is amazing.” He agrees, biased and not even a little ashamed of it. “Marnie is right there with her. Smart and compassionate. Honest to a fault sometimes.”
"I always told her that being completely honest was better than fibbing even a little. So...yeah. That one is my fault."
“That’s not a bad thing for now.” Dave chuckles. “Although sometimes you have to fib.”
"Well, sure." You chuckle along with him. "But I don't want to teach her that. They're still so young."
“They are. However, they are smarter than us already.” He snorts.
"I know, it's crazy." It's just so damn easy with him. Easy to stand together and drink and laugh. It's so easy that neither of you notice the party has been going on around you for quite some time while you have just been focused entirely on each other.
It’s getting later. Ever so often, the DJ will announce the time between songs and all the parents are getting more and more intoxicated as the drinks flow from the bar.
Smiling waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres give way to a buffet of fine food, and Dave insists you indulge in a second drink if you want it, after you spent literal hours nursing the first.
Dave switches to Coke, the real crime here being that he still has to use a full drink ticket to get a half a glass of the soft drink. He doesn’t grumble, but it’s a little ridiculous, but glances over at you to see if you want a new drink.
Taking him at his insistence, you order a second gin and tonic and decide that that will be the last alcoholic drink of the night. Relaxing is one thing, but you have no desire for Dave to see you sloppy or out of control. He seems to appreciate maturity and intelligence, and you’d prefer he doesn’t see you any other way.
Now that the drinks are acquired, he leans in. “Shall we go see what they have on the buffet?” He asks. “I’m getting hungry and they have to have something good.”
“Let’s go find out.” You swear if he leaned in and breathed in your ear like that every time he made a request, you would jump off a damn bridge or something. Going to get food is the least of it.
He can’t stop putting his hand on your lower back. You look gorgeous and he’s noticed more than one discreet glance towards you. Appraisal by the women and approval by the men. For now, you are with him and he is more than a little happy about that fact. You are charming, kind, you love your daughter with your entire being.
“Same things as always.” Which is not bad, considering the food around here is excellent and the school inevitably chooses the same well-regarded caterer. At least this year there seem to be better vegetarian options for the few parents that apply to. You choose your entree and your sides by what is likely to cause the least mess — your velvet dress would not do well with a sauce spill — and before too long you and Dave are headed back to your little table with dinner in hand.
“They should do a Mac and cheese bar.” He knows his tastes have assimilated to the tastes of his kids, but it would be good. “That could also be classy.”
“Oohhh, I should make mac and cheese for dinner tomorrow.” The idea makes you light up, even more than the first bite of your dinner. “Marnie had cauliflower with cheese sauce at her grandmother’s and now I can actually get a veggie into her mac and cheese.”
“Add some carrots in there too.” He chuckles. “Tell her it’s extra cheesy.”
“Sneaky,” you commend with obvious admiration. “I’m going to have to try that.”
“Gotta be.” He snorts. “Sometimes I think I’m fighting for my life with both of them ganging up on me.”
“My ex used to claim that’s why he only wanted one,” you shrug and fork up another bite of your food. “He was already outnumbered with me and Marnie.”
“It was three against one in my former household.” He flashes you a sardonic grin. “I didn’t get my way often.”
“I think that’s what he was afraid of.” And after dipping into your second cocktail, you add, “Probably why he ran off with his secretary. She always did what he told her.”
“So he’s one of those assholes.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m not gonna say I never looked. I’ve got eyes.” He huffs. “But I don’t need my ego or anything else stroked by someone hoping for a raise. Especially when I was married.”
“Everybody looks,” you reason, knowing you had too from time to time. But you never would have acted. Never. “That’s completely different.”
“It is.” He sighs. “What kind of fucking example is that for your kids? ‘Hey it’s okay to fuck around on your partner’.” He curls his lip, making his thoughts on the idea perfectly clear.
“I’m lucky.” That’s something you know completely. “I didn’t have any of the agony of being aware while it was going on. It blindsided me, I got divorced, and I got Marnie. It could have been so much worse.”
“Want me to kill him for you?” It’s posed as a joke, since you have no clue that Dave is actually capable of doing it.
That draws an unexpected laugh out of you, pushing out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and you pick up your glass again to sip. “Ask me that question a year ago and I might have said yes,” you admit. “But I’m okay now. Though I do appreciate the sentiment. What about the former Mrs. York? Does she need taking care of?” Not that you ever could, but the joke seems soothing in an off kilter way.
“Not worth it.” He grunts, although he had thought about it. In the end, as long as she kept her mouth shut, she kept breathing.
“As long as they stay away, they can do whatever,” you say, guessing he feels the same way as you.
“I’ll drink to that.” Dave raises his coke to tap against the rim of your glass and takes a sip. “Hopefully the new year is our year, huh?”
“Maybe so.” The gentle ching of glass against glass is musical. A bit romantic, if you want to pretend that way. No matter what, the thought of anything being yours — for you and Dave — makes your face burn. “Hopefully.”
The two of you eat and while the duck is tender, the roast beef is a little dry for Dave’s taste. Talking easily like you have all night until the plates are pushed away and there’s only minutes left until the clock strikes midnight. “Wanna dance?” Dave asks, glancing back at you after looking at the floor filled with couples.
"Really?" Your eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. As stoic as he is, you had kind of assumed at this point that Dave was not a dancing kind of guy.
“Why? Do you not want to?” He asks, wondering if your heels are bothering you, or if you just don’t want to dance with him.
"What? No, no, I absolutely want to." It takes you a second but you shake off the surprise and move away from the table. "I just didn't think you would want to."
He huffs and reaches out to offer you his hand. “I’m not stupid.” He teases. “Dancing with a pretty lady would be a stupid thing to turn down.”
That isn't the first time tonight that he's called you pretty, and every single time you feel like your whole being is instantly set on fire from the compliment. "Some men just don't like to dance," you excuse. "I didn't want to assume."
“And those men are idiots.” He walks you out onto the dance floor and turns to pull you close. “It’s an excuse to hold a woman close and move with her.” He rumbles softly.
There is no damn way in the world that he missed your eyelashes fluttering at that light growl in his voice, not with as close as he's holding you, and you clear your throat slightly out of pure nerves. "I guess I never thought of it like that."
There’s a part of him that wonders if you would be this flustered if you knew what he was in a previous life. If you knew the marks that are on his soul. It’s at that moment, his leg decides to buckle and he stumbles slightly, tightening his hold on you, but he recovers quickly with just a quiet curse. “Sorry.”
"Are you okay?" You panic a little but hold onto him tightly, not letting him fall or even really lose his balance except for momentarily. There was one time that he came to pick up Alice from your place that you saw a handicapped placard in his car and a cane on the seat next to him so you're not totally surprised. It is the first time you've seen it in action though.
Dave has the decency to look embarrassed, although the reason why he nearly tripped still pisses him off. “Yeah.” He grunts. “Muscle weakness.” He explains quietly.
"We don't have to dance," you offer gently, not wanting to make him feel guilty but also not wanting him to put undue stress on his leg.
“No, I’m fine.” He insists. “It’s good for me to work the muscles.” He doesn’t let go of you, wanting to dance as the clock counts down to midnight.
"I'll keep you steady." It's almost too quiet when you say it, but he's close enough to catch it and you smile when the corner of his mouth turns up, too.
“My hero.” He teases softly, looking at you in true amazement. You are just naturally considerate and that surprises him.
"Oh hush." Teasing goes both ways, of course, and you're perfectly tickled that he would initiate it even a little. "It's the least I can do."
The two of you start to slowly dance again, fitting the music that is being played. It is not the heavy party music that might be in a New Year’s party for younger people, but this is intimate. Sensual.
It's so easy to sink into. Into the intimacy of the moment that could so easily be mistaken for romance. It's sweet. And gentle. And Dave's face rests at something far away from asshole right now.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the New Year’s countdown.” The DJ announces, making Dave smirk slightly as he tugs you closer.
Your heart does a little leap up into your throat that makes your whole chest ache, and you have to remind yourself that New Year’s kisses are for the young. They’re not for middle aged divorcees at their kids’ school fundraisers.
“Ten, nine!” Dave watches as you join the countdown. Eyes floating around the room and coming back to him. The two of you are still clinging to one another. “Eight, seven!”
It's too much of a fantasy for you to not let your gaze drift to his lips, even if you avert your eyes immediately. "Six, five!" Your stupid heart is pounding like anything could ever matter, and the room seems to slow down around you.
He notices, he’s noticed every little thing about you tonight. He sees the way your eyes touch his lips and it makes him grasp you just a little tighter. “Four, three, two!” Right before the room shouts ‘One!’ Dave ducks his head down and captures your lips in a kiss.
A half-squeak, half-gasp shakes from you but you're too absorbed in returning the unexpected kiss to even really register that you've made a sound. It may be chaste and relatively quick, but it's still better than half the other damn kisses you've had in your lifetime, and by the time Dave pulls back a few seconds later you feel like it's your legs about to give out this time.
“Happy New Year!” Dave pulls back to make sure that you didn’t object, only to find you looking completely bemused and he smirks slightly before he leans in again to claim your lips.
This time the sound is most definitely a moan when it comes out of you, and you cling a little more desperately as your arms wind around him and he deepens the kiss. You feel dizzy and disoriented, but in the most dreamlike way possible, and if it ever stops it will be far too soon.
You cling to him, making him deepen the kiss. One hand coming up to cup your jaw and encourage you to open up for him. Sliding his tongue inside your mouth when you yield.
The whole room has dissolved around you. The other dancing couples, the upbeat party music, the noise and the lights and everything in between. There is nothing else anywhere except Dave York kissing you, and the fact that you've been harboring this fantasy for months without ever thinking it could go anywhere. When it's finally necessary to breathe again -- what a nuisance -- you have to take another second with your eyes closed just in case the whole thing has been a dream.
“Happy New Year.” Dave whispers, smiling at the way you still have your eyes closed. As if you are dreaming.
“Happy New Year.” Hearing that he’s still there — still real — gives you enough courage to actually open your eyes. Like some kind of miracle, his arms are tight around you and his lips are swollen plush from sharing a kiss.
******
“We have strawberries, blueberries, chocolate chips, pecans, whipped cream and those little marshmallow things. Molly wants those and chocolate chips in hers.” Dave rattles off as he pours the batter onto the hot waffle iron. “What would you like?” He turns towards the older two girls to get their orders as they sit at the bar in their pajamas.
"Strawberries and chocolate and pecans, please, Mr. York?" Marnie sits up at the bar with her legs dangling on her stool and hot cocoa clutched in her little hands. The party had been so much fun and the girls are still all chattering away this morning. She's dreading being picked up to go home, just because she hates being away from Alice. Those two girls have been attached at the hip since they met.
"Can I have blueberries and chocolate chips, Daddy?" Alice asks, knowing that adding a fruit will increase the likelihood of her father saying yes. "And whipped cream?"
“Anything you girls want.” Dave chuckles at the surprised look on his eldest daughter’s face. He shooks her a wink. “It’s a new year. The first day should be the best one so far.” He starts to add the chocolate and mini dried marshmallows to this waffle for Molly. “I’ll fix them all exactly how you like them.” He promises. “Anyone want eggs?”
“Do we have bacon, Daddy?”
You can hear Molly’s little voice from the other end of the hall as you creep down the back stairs. You had left the party separately from Dave and the girls last night, shooting back over to your house for a change of clothes and arriving at the York’s house a little after the girls had been put to bed.
Dave hadn’t waited too long to put you to bed either, and now you’re sneaking out like a teenager trying not to get caught by your boyfriend’s parents.
Dave tilts his head as he hears you. The girls don’t, but they also haven’t been trained to listen for unusual sounds. “We sure do, baby.” He hums. “Do you want some?” She nods eagerly and both Alice and Marnie quickly agree that they would want some bacon. “Let me get it on a pan.”
Out through the back door that goes into the garage, out the side door of the garage, and over to your car, you pop the bag that you brought a change of clothes in -- and now contains your dress and heels from last night's party -- into the trunk. That leaves you with just your purse on your arm but you tug on your coat and tie the waist to make it look like you're just arriving. And then, with flare, you slam the driver's side door of your car shut and walk up to his front door to ring the bell.
Immediately Alice and Marnie are groaning, not wanting to be separated so early. “Quit fussing.” He chuckles. “I invited your mom over for waffles this morning.” He explains to Marnie. He technically isn’t lying, he’s just not telling them that you spent the night in his bed last night. “Alice, watch the waffle, I’ll get the door.”
"Okay!" Delighted not to be separated so early, Alice pops up from her stool to stare intently at the waffle machine while her dad walks out to the hall in his pajamas.
Dave pads to the door, opening it quickly. “Fancy seeing you here.” He teases as he opens the door and drags you close for a quick kiss.
"Weird, right?" A little giggle bubbles out of you, and you steal another kiss, even boldly dragging your fingers through his short hair like you now know he loves. A second later, you add, "I'm not late, am I?" with more volume.
“Right on time.” He winks and squeezes your ass before he pulls away from you. “How was your night?” He asks, loud enough for the girls to hear. “The girls went to bed and I was quickly behind them.”
"Oh, same." The fake airiness in your voice is borderline laughable, but thankfully the girls are young enough that you would be absolutely shocked if they picked up on anything. "I was ready for bed right after the party. What a late night."
“Yes it was.” There’s only a little heat to his words and he manages to suppress the smirk by the time the two of you walk into the kitchen. It had been an amazing night if he had to judge. “You want some coffee? I have a fresh pot.”
"That sounds great." You're dying for a cup, if you're honest, but you set your purse on a chair as you walk into the kitchen and drape your coat over the back along with it. "Did you girls have a good night?"
The girls immediately start to chatter to you, leaving Dave to plate up the waffle and set the bacon in the oven to bake before he gets out another coffee cup for you.
They tell you about the weird music that got played, the food they ate and the games they played. How Courtney Schofield finally got told off by the girls she's been bullying and how Bobby Thornrite got a bloody nose because he tripped over his untied shoe and went face first into the boy in front of him.
Dave watches you with the girls as he starts on Marnie’s waffle next. Pouring syrup on Molly’s although he knows that she will want to wait until the older girls eat. It’s heartwarming to see how they enjoy talking to you. Basking in your attention.
"So I was wondering..." Leaning against the counter with the girls, you sip your coffee and try not to look over at Dave too often because you know you'll end up a giddy mess if you do. "If you girls wanted to just move this sleepover on over to our house tonight? We can watch movies and make popcorn and have some tacos for dinner?" You and Dave had bounced the idea around before you got out of bed this morning, figuring the girls would be ecstatic to keep hanging out and it would enable you and him to be able to spend the day together. A winning situation for everyone, as far as you're concerned.
Dave winces as the girls immediately start to screech in joy and excitement. Bouncing around the kitchen like Tasmanian devils and hugging each other like they’ve won the lottery. “I think that’s a yes.” He tells you dryly.
"Okay you two, okay." You can't help but laugh. They're such sweet kids and Molly is very nearly as excited as the older two. "Breakfast first, huh? And then we'll help Mr. York clean up the kitchen before we go switch houses. Does that sound like a deal?"
“Everybody is having a waffle and bacon.” He reminds them. “Then we brush our teeth, right? No cavities.”
"Right!" Chorus back all three girls, who could not be more thrilled with the way this morning is going.
Dave grins as he continues to make waffles. It was a great start to the New Year.
------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
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pedgito · 1 month ago
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PEDRO PASCAL as DAVE YORK The Equalizer 2 (2018), dir. Antoine Fuqua
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almostempty · 5 months ago
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self esteem part 3 - kick and scream (joel x f!reader)
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wc: 9.3k | masterlist | rating: 18+ | read on ao3 |
previous (part 2) ⎯ next (part 4)
summary: Joel catches you on a date and communicates how he feels about it (the only way he knows how).
tags/warnings: fuckboy!Joel, dub con, smut, pwp, unprotected piv sex, fingering, creampie, dirty talk, public sex, blow job, reader is still sippin' on some dumb bitch juice for Joel (me), jealous!joel, possessive!joel, emotionally manipulative but sexually proficient Joel, toxic breadcrumbing Joel fucks, smash and dash, no use of y/n, AU no outbreak, special guest appearance by date night dave, OOC Dave bc I don’t know that man so I made him single, rich, hot, and pervy idc idc idc, more i might be forgetting rn,  
a/n: please leave feedback! open to constructive criticism or delusional inspiration
thanks: to EVERYONE who read part 1 and 2, but ESPECIALLY  @auteurdelabre for inspiring, I hope you enjoy it bb. I'll try to tag those who specifically asked for more brb
You stare down at the hand that just landed on your thigh, cocking your head in assessment. You can feel the scowl tugging at the corners of your mouth. As you work out what expression you should paste onto your face instead, the man sitting next to you seems unbothered. Maybe even encouraged? He continues his lecture about the benefits of indoor rock climbing. You sigh, staring across the park as he continues without pausing to breathe. 
You watch the couples milling around the park, wondering if that’s what you look like with this guy's hand on your leg. You stare back down at it, his long fingers shifting slightly as he continues his animated speech. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, and you feel fidgety. Trapped under the weight of his limp hand. He doesn’t seem to notice when you squirm and readjust. He’s circled back to his earlier lecture about how you just have to learn to play an instrument. If he’d let you get a word in, you could verify that you already do, but he seems to prefer the sound of his own voice. 
This guy should get a podcast. The kind where a guy with a microphone talks to himself for three hours about whatever he wants. He’d crush it. You laugh to yourself, unintentionally encouraging him with your smile. He’s not not good-looking. But you’d prefer someone interested in asking you at least one question. 
You stifle a laugh at the intrusive thought of taking him home and stripping his clothes off while he prattles on about amateur bird-watching, sorry–birding, or unicycling. 
Eventually, you extricate yourself from the disappointing date, accept an awkward hug, and turn down dinner. You haven’t left the parking lot yet when your phone buzzes. 
Unsaved number: had a great time with u
Unsaved number: would love to see u again :) 
It’s not that your skin crawls, but it is a full-body no. 
You: thanks, I’m glad I got to know you more 
It’s not technically a lie. You’re glad you learned he’s not a fit for you. You feel okay about leaving it at that for now. You watch the sunset from your parking spot. The park is filled with couples laying on blankets being romantic. You roll your eyes at them and then at yourself for being bitter. Your phone buzzes again, and you wince, hoping it’s not your long-winded date again. It’s not. 
Joel: what you doing?
Fucking Miller. You scoff aloud in the private space of your front seat. By now, he should be on your blocked list, but the quick hit of euphoria that floods through your bloodstream, warming your cheeks, keeps you hooked. He’s a filthy drug that blinds you from logic or survival instincts. Your eyes dart to the pedestrians in the parking lot. Worried. As if the milling strangers know what you’re up to and are about to shame you. A little voice reminds you that if you feel guilty about something, you shouldn’t be doing it. You ignore that voice. Nobody in the parking lot catches on, coast clear, and you let yourself grin wide as a fool when you type your response. 
Later that night, you’re grinning again. Sprawled across your couch, sweaty skin plastered to the faux leather cushions. Sated. Bought and sold on your own lie, you tell the little voice that you didn’t want Joel to stay anyway. You convince yourself some form of compromise is happening, however twisted, when he shows up and leaves you wrecked. He comes to you. You don’t have to get to know each other to make each other feel good. Whatever puts you at ease. 
Sometimes it works. Some days, you feel hollow and anxious. Obsessively tapping your phone to see if he’s responded when you reach out first. Pacing around your home, stressing over whether you should stay up just in case and even in bed, you can’t help but stay alert for a knock at the door. 
The cycle leaves you with dark circles under your eyes most days. But, on the mornings after Joel shows up, you have a bright twinkle in your eyes and a knowing smirk that greets you in the bathroom mirror. Katie noticed the smirk one day and called you out. She demanded an explanation for the mystery dick fairy. 
You wouldn’t admit his identity to her, afraid of getting too involved with someone in her boyfriend's network. But you did admit to the toxic cycle, and your friend was not as amused as you when you tried to pass it off as a joke. She tried to convince you to look for someone to date, but you argued that wasn’t what you wanted anyway. She suggested at least someone who could commit to a plan or send a text back. You knew it didn’t sound great out loud. 
As the days of summer crawl along, you wonder if she’s right. At least, it was worth considering. It’s a feeble attempt to smother your spiraling thoughts about Joel. Still, when you start getting messages from the dating app Katie chose for you, it gives you something to interrupt your racing thoughts. At first. Somehow, it starts to feel even worse. Ignoring the sinking feeling you get when it isn’t Joel’s name in your notifications gets more challenging. 
You had accepted that it was a lost cause to plan anything with him, but you still can’t find the self-respect to turn him away when he shows up at your door. Sometimes, he sends you a grammatically inconsiderate text. You wonder if he somehow has a cell phone plan that still charges him by the message with the way he uses as few words as possible. 
He never stays. Never invites you to his. He evades any predictable behavior. Maybe he’s worried someone ordered a hit on him. Maybe that’s all it is, you muse. Not a contracted kill. The unpredictability. Chaos. That’s what makes him addictive. The brightness of the highs makes you temporarily forget the darkest lows exist. That, and the dirty little thoughts that pour from his mouth and drip into your psyche. That stupid, sexy voice burning into your memory, yeah, that’s definitely addictive. You snort at that. I am unwell, you think. As you pick up your phone again, you see a message from someone new. 
\\\///
Heat radiates off your face as you fling another shirt across the room. You’ve tried on the same three outfits over and over again. Ripping them over your head and tossing them into the pile of laundry purgatory. Maybe sweating and mouth-breathing is a turn-on for your date; if so, you’re gonna nail the first impression. You sigh and commit to option two: the little black dress. A classic, right? 
“Shit,” you curse at yourself when you stumble while attempting to pull your shoes on as you walk down the hall. This is what you get for agreeing to a late evening date on a weeknight; you feel like a mess. Scrambling to play it cool and classy, you pause to recalibrate before opening the door. What was his name? You can’t remember. He didn’t look like your usual type, but Katie had convinced you to branch out a little. More specifically, she told you it was a green flag already if he wasn’t your type. 
You swing the door open, hoping he introduces himself first. He looks expensive. The dark-washed denim, the boots, the jacket, and the watch. Like he walked out of an ad campaign for a brand out of your budget. Dave. He does introduce himself, thankfully. He’s more clean-cut than your usual type, but he speaks confidently and gives off an air of put-togetherness that intrigues you. His voice definitely stirs the butterflies in your stomach. 
Oh. You realize you’ve definitely been busy staring at him and have no idea what he actually said with his sultry bedroom voice. Your eyes widen a little. You don’t wanna fuck this up and embarrass yourself. Luckily, he seems unbothered. He tilts his head with a seductive half-smile. He’s enjoying the way you assess him. That definitely does it for you. Stupid, smug men making you weak in the knees. 
“You ready?” he asks, voice all smoky for no good reason. 
“Yeah,” you manage to say as you recall how to speak and act human. Until you see his luxury car waiting for you. He clocks your beat of hesitance. 
“Good.” 
His authoritative voice flips the right switch in you, and you let him lead. When he opens the door for you, it’s like the final component of his spell. You are bewitched. Under a thick veil, you didn’t even notice the truck that rolled by as you sank into the leather seat. You didn’t notice when the truck pulled over up the block, idling noisily on the quiet street. No, you were busy, focused on manually breathing and taking in what you’d describe as the interior of a spaceship. 
The good news is that Dave is charming. He is easy to talk to as he drives. Flirty and quick-witted. He asks you questions and pauses to consider your responses. You aren’t sure you have much in common, but you like his self-assured demeanor. 
When you walk into the club he’s brought you to, you hesitate once again, feeling underdressed. The club is split with a lounge on one side of the bar–full of intimate booths and plush chairs surrounding tiny tables and trendy mood lighting. Kind of like a swanky hotel lobby, you decide. On the other side of the bar is a dance floor, dimly lit with loud music blasting. Women in bodycon dresses and heels fill the room. You feel plain in comparison. 
“I didn’t know there was a dress code,” you mutter. 
“There isn’t,” Dave asserts, “besides, you look good in this.” He accentuates his statement by running his hand down your spine. It settles some of your nerves and lights up others. He ushers you, hand on your lower back, towards a small booth. And as you settle in, he’s undeniably charismatic. Dave doesn’t reveal much about himself but keeps you laughing and seems genuinely interested in you.  
Despite the loud music and people noise, it’s easy to feel like the room is only for you and him. You sip your drink and warm up to his affection. You’re quick to smile, and despite how serious he seems, he has a playful edge that has you on your toes. 
You can taste the chemistry between you, bright and sparkling. He spurs your confidence with his dark eyes when he not so subtly lets his gaze linger on your body. You stop shying away from attention and try to bask in it instead. It boosts your ego and stirs up your desire. 
When you let yourself look, really look, you decide Dave is handsome. His strong features, broad shoulders, and impeccable grooming work for him. He seems meticulous but not too uptight to have fun. A dark sense of humor flirts behind his twinkling dark eyes. You decide to let him know that you’ve determined he is a handsome man. He gives you a look. Like he already knew you thought that. Your cheeks warm slightly at that. Were you obvious? 
It’s not until he peels away from you to refill your drinks that you notice how close you have been sitting. You mourn the loss of his body heat as he walks away. You had low expectations after your last few dates, but tonight, this feels different. Your eyes trail along his path to the bar, and you lazily rest your chin in your palm before your breath hitches, and you freeze.  
You feel like you’ve swallowed a bowling ball. It’s lodged in your throat first, then constricting your chest, until finally, it sinks. A heavy, solid weight flipping your stomach. You’re locked on a different set of dark eyes. They’re glowering at you through lowered brows from across the room. Seated at the same bar where Dave ordered your drinks. 
Joel stares at you over his drink. He downs the glass without taking his eyes off of you. One quirked brow, asking really? 
Really what? Is he judging you? For what, being on a date? 
Another glass replaces his empty tumbler, but he doesn’t acknowledge the bartender or the rest of the world.
This fucking guy. 
The bowling ball in your gut mutates into something fiery. But, you have nothing to be guilty about. It’s not your fault he’s alone, bitter, and drinking at a bar full of people having more fun than him. In fact, you could say it’s his fault that you’re both here. 
A scowl forms on Joel’s face when Dave slides back into the booth beside you. Good. You hope he suffers. You hope he sees how easy it is for someone to treat you well. And how happy you look. 
You don’t hesitate to lean your body against Dave, giving in to your urges. You squeeze his arm when he makes you laugh, and your touch lingers. He preens under your admiration when you comment on his firm biceps. He is quick to match your advances. Finding excuses to brush your hair behind your ear and settling a heavy palm on your knee. His hand creeps a little higher up your thigh but doesn’t graze the hem of your dress. Respectful. That’s different. 
You don’t need to look again to feel Joel’s eyes burning into you. It incites you that he has the audacity. The gall to make faces at you for showing up on a date. You decide you’ll give Joel something to scowl about, feeling emboldened by your date’s touch.  
You slide Dave’s hand further up your leg, letting go when he gets the idea. You reach for your drink, feigning nonchalance, but your breath catches, and your hand trembles when he traces his fingertips around the crease of your thigh. He skirts beneath the hem of your underwear, drawing lines over your hip and back towards your center. 
The soft touch tickles deliciously, and you feel the anticipation building in your core. He watches your expression, hawklike, noting the tiniest details in the features of your face. He notes when your breath stutters or your eyelids flutter softly. 
“This what you wanted?” he husks, still watching intently. Yes, yes, yes! 
“Almost,” you toy. Something about having both men’s eyes on you has your skin itching with desire and your blood running hot. 
Dave scoffs softly, repeating your word choice and shaking his head. Almost. 
“You looking for more?” he taunts as he wedges his large hand fully between your legs to cup and tease your cunt. 
You can’t help the breathlessness of the yes that slips out of you. You roll into his palm, and your mouth parts at the friction and his boldness. He smiles wolfishly, flashing his teeth, when he feels you twist and rock against him. His look encourages you. And you tilt your hips and shift your legs to give him better access. 
“Dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, still locked on your face. You swell at this. His eyes lower to your glossy lips before he sips casually from his drink, so composed. 
Your cheeks warm at his words, but he has his answer when he slips a finger beneath the damp lace between your legs and drags it through the pool of arousal gathering at your entrance. Your lips part at the contact, chest heaving, and you give him a nod and coy smile in response to his question. You’ll be his dirty little thing tonight. 
“That’s good,” he declares, pressing a kiss just below your ear before adding, “I’d like to do dirty things to you.” 
His husky voice and declaration stir an urgent need to be touched within you. He continues to agitate your nerves as his hand massages over your swollen sex. Your skin feels tight and prickly, tensing, ready to feel more. You’re unconcerned with the debased nature of being fingered in public. 
When your eyes are instinctually drawn back towards Joel, you shudder. You can feel the twitching of your clit as your cunt floods over Dave’s fingers. The depravity that another man’s glare eases the slip of your date’s teasing touch is not lost on you. Instead, it turns you on even more. Joel’s homicidal stare has you squirming. You’ve seen darkness in his eyes before, but not like this. There’s no twinkle of mocking, and it’s not cruel in a hot way. If looks could kill, then this room would look like the club scene from Blade. 
Dave murmurs something filthy in your ear that makes you gasp. Your hand flies to his thigh, gripping tightly to keep you from melting onto the floor. 
“Don’t be shy, dirty girl,” he croons darkly, “you can touch.” 
“Fuck,” you groan under your breath when you move your hand to find his hard cock straining against his well-fitted jeans. 
He chuckles lowly at the way your eyes widen in response before he plunges two fingers inside of you, and you stifle a throaty sound. Your mind still wanders to Joel, and you wonder if he can see your perverse display below the table. Judging by his clenched fists on the bar, you’d say whatever he can see is enough to fill in the blanks. The sick part of you that feels more turned on by his agony expands within you.  
“Oh god,” you whisper as you suck in air. 
Dave works his fingers lazily into you. You feel intoxicated by the attention of both men. A concern flashes through you that someone else in the club could catch on or see more than you’d like to show. But a feeling in your gut tells you that it doesn’t matter. Dave seems strikingly confident with a lethal attention to detail. And the ferocity on Joel’s face only eggs you on. 
When you think of humbling Joel, a sinister smile pulls at the corners of your mouth. He’s the one that unleashed the horny, risk-taking monster within you and then disappeared. Fuck moping about him. You’re getting yours, you decide. 
You shoot Joel a wink. Pouring gasoline on the fire, hoping it pisses him off. 
You lean into the salaciously tempting energy radiating off of Dave. Reaching to hold his jaw as your lips lock and you let him control your mouth. Kissing him riles you up more. You palm at his erection over his jeans, delighting in the noises that roil deep in his chest. You hold back whimpers as the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you finds the perfect spot. 
He pulls back from your kiss and looks down to watch your hand groping at him. You like watching him watch you. 
“You gonna take it out?” Oh. Fuck, you want to. It feels like more of a risk than you’ve taken so far. 
“Here?” you ask him softly.  
A wrinkle appears between your brows. Dave watches your swollen lips again just as your pink tongue darts out to wet them. He raises a brow at you, eyes dropping to where his arm disappears under your dress. 
“Oh, are you feeling bashful now?” he goads. His fingers curl against that sensitive spot inside of you as his palm presses firmly into your swollen clit. He makes it hard for you to answer. You try to pout at him, but the reflexive rise in your brows at the pleasure betrays you.  He chuckles again. “No? Just distracted, hm?” 
“Fuck,” is all you can mouth. It is distracting. Not the fingers inside you, well, not completely, but the urge. The craving to leverage your lewd new lover’s lack of regard for appropriate behavior into emotional revenge. The thought of Joel growing mad with jealousy as he watches you come overtakes your critical thinking. 
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller! You dare him across the room, letting your jaw fall slack and your brows knit in obvious pleasure. 
“Are you going to come for me?” Dave asks, “Here in this booth? Where anyone could see?” he tuts like he’s disappointed, and it works. The danger of it all does something to heighten your senses. It’s blinding. The bass from the music blaring from the dance floor rattling in your ribs, Dave’s designer cologne filling your nose, the sheen of sweat collecting on your chest, and the daggers in Joel’s eyes when you glance to confirm he’s still watching. All the sensations clash and shove you towards your release. 
“Yes,” you hiss quietly, “yes.” Your eyes slam shut as you try to remain composed while riding his fingers under the table. You flicker in and out of reality as your climax rolls through you. You’re drunk on the reversal of power when your eyes peel open, and you see the hardened expression on Joel’s face glowering at you. You wonder if his dick is just as hard in his pants, and the thought has you contracting again around Dave’s fingers.
“That’s a good girl.” Dave’s voice is somehow even deeper. It sends another ripple of pleasure to swirl low in your abdomen. You’d like to hear that again. 
With a touch more clarity after the violent edge of your arousal is dulled, your hand works at his belt, desperate to feel the heat of his cock in your palm. He assists, lifting his hips when you unbuckle his belt and pop the button on his pants so you can slide your hand beneath his underwear. His tension and urgency further stoke your power trip, and you feel overcome with the need to know how badly he wants you. When you wrap your fingers around him, hear the groan he makes, and feel the mindless buck of his hips, you have a more than good enough answer. He’s yours. 
Dave watches the way your eyes glaze over when your thumb smears the precome dripping from his head down his length. His hand stills distractedly between your legs, and his chin drops as he watches where your hand disappears under his dark boxer briefs. You’re constricted by the elastic waistband, but your grip is tight. Almost as tight as when he fucks his own fist. He’s mesmerized by the way you jerk his cock just right. 
You feel yourself salivating with the need to taste him. You’re getting frustrated with the limited space and want to see him in your hand. You sigh, wishing you could, until you realize you can, and grin. 
You pull your hand back out of his pants, and he snaps out of his stupor. Before he can comment, you cut him off. 
“Keep your pants on and take me to the bathroom so I can suck your cock right.” 
Your voice comes out lower than you thought it would. His eyes flare before he matches your devious look and obeys, spewing filthy thoughts you can’t make out under his breath as he does. He’s ushering you down the hall in seconds, and then you’re locking the door and dropping to your knees. Dave doesn’t wait a second longer, wrenching his belt open and dropping his jeans just enough for his cock to spring free. 
You don’t tease or start slow. He admires how you waste no time like you’re desperate to taste him. And you are. Only pausing for a moment to admire the way he looks, stiff and leaking for you, before you eagerly wrap your lips around him. You slide your tongue everywhere and bob up and down with vigor. Salty and vaguely sweet, precome teases your palette. You want more. The best you can do to express that is swallow around him and suck until he’s moaning and cursing above you. 
You let your saliva pool and spill from your lips so you can slide your hand down the rest of his length while you revel at the weight of him on your tongue. You find the moves that have his fists clenching and thighs straining and repeat them. You hum around him as pride blooms in your chest over how his composure cracks. 
You wonder if Joel has smashed through the bar with his fists yet. At least he didn’t break down the bathroom door before you could get on your knees. Would he strangle Dave first if he saw the two of you? Or would he drag you home and gag you on his angry cock instead? You moan obscenely as your imagination runs wild. You look up at Dave. He watches you with fierce eyes. You wouldn’t mind if they shared you, you consider, but that would take a miracle. 
You continue messily and enthusiastically until your knees ache, and you decide he has to come for you. You try to beg for it while he’s still in your mouth before you have the brains to pull off of him and tell him what you want. He’s endeared by your unrefined hedonism.
He grips your jaw in his palm when you get the words out. 
“You want to swallow my come?” he asks. 
“Yes,” you plead impatiently on your knees with a hoarse voice. You’re a pornographic sight on the tile floor with your wet lashes, swollen lips, and saliva glistening on your chin. You open your mouth for him and hold out your tongue. 
“Oh,” he strokes his thumb along your cheek, smiling down at you, “that’s a good girl.” 
Your eyes close at that, feeling the praise warm your skin before he slides back into your wet mouth. 
Guiding you faster and a little rougher, Dave doesn’t take long to come. Spilling onto your tongue as you groan around him until he stops pulsing in your mouth. You swallow, glowing for him with glassy eyes. He helps you to stand before tucking his softening cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. You’re adjusting your dress and reaching for your bag on the counter. 
“What do you need?” He asks a little softer than you expected, causing you to pause. 
“Take me home,” you smile at him dopily before pausing and wincing at yourself in the mirror. You look like a freshly face-fucked mess. 
“Uh, actually, give me a few minutes to freshen up first, and I’ll meet you out front?” 
He nods, “I’ll pull the car up.”
“I’d like that.” You reply and lock the door behind him after he slips out. 
Once you feel more presentable, you pull your phone from your bag and tap the screen to check the time before opening the door. 
Seeing Joel’s name makes your stomach flip. You open the text. 
Joel: Miss me? 
It snaps something in you. Something that enrages you. He has to be certifiably insane, you think. It came through a little while ago, but you aren’t sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom. You begin to spiral, debating if you should march to the bar and throw a drink in his face or pretend like he doesn’t even exist. You feel your face burning hot, and the bathroom is suddenly suffocating. You need some air before you get into the car with Dave. Just long enough to breathe normally and look less like you want to break something. 
Leaving the bathroom you find an employee exit further down the hall. A faded sign on the door warns that an alarm will sound, but the rock wedged in the door jam holding it open a crack begs to differ, and you slip into the dark. 
A lanky, pale kid in a black apron sits atop a picnic table in the alley. 
“Oh, sorry,” you feel a little guilty interrupting his break, “just wanted some air.” 
“All good,” he responds before sliding off the makeshift seating. “Last call for the kitchen anyway. Have my seat,” he waves at the table like he’s offering a throne. You accept. Exceedingly grateful to have the air and the privacy to regulate. Just some slow, deep breaths. Then, you can walk out the front door and let Dave take you home. 
The door swings open again, and you tense, ready to hop off the table and find another space. 
“Sorry,” you start your apology, but it’s cut off. 
“You should be,” Joel accuses harshly. He’s in your space with two of his long strides. Rushing at you like you’re caught in a snare trap, and he’s starving. You briefly look the part with your eyes wide in the moonlight, shocked by his sudden appearance, until your barely dampened rage rips from your throat.
“Joel, what the fuck?” you spit out in disbelief, but he interrupts you– 
“I thought I already told you what happens if you’re gonna be a filthy tease?” his voice lowers as he ignores your question and paces in front of you with a dark, wicked stare. 
“What are you doing here?” you press, ignoring his threat. 
“What are you doing here?” he demands. Like he has some certificate of entitlement to your whereabouts. He towers over you. Your eyes narrow to slits. If you could shoot lasers out of them, you’d do it now. 
You laugh. Loudly. You’re still laughing when he grabs you and pivots your frame so your legs dangle off of the end of the table towards him. Closer. He gets even closer, standing between your knees. You tilt your face to look up at him. 
“You on a date?” it’s a growl carved from stone. You choose to remain ignorant to the shiver it sends through you that has nothing to do with the temperature. How dare he charge up on you like a territorial werewolf in the night? And how dare he look so fucking good with that snarly expression? No. You laugh again. Wild-eyed. Words start coming up before you even hear yourself.
“What is wrong with you, Joel? Why were you watching me? You looking for a show?” you jab. Gnashing at him with your words. He snorts dismissively at you, and a barbaric smile creeps onto his face. Like he’s in on some joke you don’t know about. He irks you so bad your skin crawls. 
“S’that what you call it?” he asks, “A show?” Continuing to ignore your other questions. He is so close to you that it burns your skin. 
“No, Joel. You were right the first time. I am on a date. A real date. You know what that is, right? Like, he asked me out, picked me up on time, bought me a drink,” you’re tallying on your fingers, “answered my–”
“And then what, you fuck him in the bathroom and hide out here? Alone in the alley?” 
It clicks. He knows exactly why you’re flustered. The asshole must’ve sent his text for his own slimy experiment. Trying to rattle you. What fucking game is he playing? Is he trying to win you? Like you’re Dave’s possession to lose? 
You scoff at his interjection, “No, Joel, I’m not alone. You followed me out here to make sure of it, right?” 
“Right,” he rumbles. His dark eyes glint even in the shadows of the alley. He leans lower and closer to you until you tip back, palms on the table behind you, then elbows. Exposing your cleavage to the moonlight. He pauses, eyes raking down your face, neck, and chest. How does he make you feel raw and vulnerable even when fully dressed? 
“You haven’t answered me,” you huff. Irritated and arched beneath him. 
“I asked you first,” he argues. A childish rebuttal for a grown man. You’re pretty sure you’ve asked why he’s here a hundred times, but of course, that doesn’t matter. He’s insufferable with his attitude and inability to communicate. Everything about you is taut, and you feel frayed. 
Joel dips his head and his lips brush your ear, tickling you, before he rasps, “I asked if you miss me, baby, and you haven’t answered.” 
A tremor runs through your body. 
It’s criminal. Your mind converts his voice directly into a hot coil of arousal. The throbbing between your legs causes you to wriggle beneath him.
“I need to know,” he croons, begging you to give in. 
His arm slides under your back, lowering you onto the table. Your restraint collapses terribly quickly for him. His voice. His touch. He knows all of your buttons. 
Laid on your back, your legs instinctively wrap around him as he bends to meet you. 
Soft puffs of air shakily flow between your lips as you struggle to concentrate. On what? You aren’t sure. Not good. You squeeze your eyes shut like maybe he’ll disappear. 
“I mean it, baby,” he continues purring with a sharp edge, “you tell me when you miss me.” 
You know it wouldn’t matter even if you did. If you texted him. If you called. It wouldn’t matter. It would probably make you feel worse. But when he says it, you feel your heart doing flips anyway. 
He slides his hands over your body, and you feel the last of your logic escaping as you tug him towards you. You’re grinding against him stupidly without a single thought. Just having him this close to you had you feeling desperate and needy. You could come again right now just by dry-humping like horny teenagers. 
The craving for him is so intense that you’ll surely die if he doesn’t keep moving. You lose any shred of composure that you were still clinging to and let out a needy whine for him. And when your fingers twist and tug at his shirt, it’s like a green light to Joel. 
He closes any and all gaps between you. His hand skates roughly under your dress, bunching up the fabric. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your neck and grazes his teeth enticingly along your jaw. 
Groping, grinding, grunting. All his movements dance a line between deliberate and frantic. 
You have tunnel vision, lost from time and space. When his low moan vibrates through you, your hand shoots to his belt. He rasps into your ear again, “That’s it, baby, I’m right here if you miss me, don’t need some jerkoff tryin’ to waste your time.” Your fingers fumble. What– “Oh, shit!” a voice yells. You freeze. “Don’t mind me!” The drunk guy slurs as he stumbles out the backdoor and sways down the alley towards the street. 
Your situation hits you like a bucket of cold water. Joel seems unfazed, still curled over you. You push at him and sit up. 
“What did you just say, Joel?” 
“Hmm?” he murmurs at you. 
“Joel, I’m serious. What the fuck?” 
He’s not listening. His hands are still searching your body. The scent of his faded deodorant is so familiar in your nose. The words are coming up again. Before he casts his trance on you. 
“No. I said I’m serious,” you repeat, “I’m not playing your games. Done with your weird shit.” Your body feels rigid, and your mind is clearing through the fog of lust. “Just because I have no self-esteem and I fuck you anytime you show up on my doorstep doesn’t mean you have any claim to me.” 
He blinks at you, finally registering your tone, expression shifting. “I actually tried, you know? I wanted to get to know you. You just bail. I keep suffering for it. Like an idiot. I keep thinking it would show I care.” 
“Baby–” 
“And now what? You see me on a date and decide it would be fun to ruin it? Ruin a chance at something better than waiting around wondering if you’ll show up looking to score?” You’re on your feet now. Livid. Ablaze in the dark. “No, you don’t even care enough to think about that,” you realize aloud. 
His features harden. Your head shakes slowly, exasperated with your burgeoning understanding. All you can hear is the white noise buzzing in your skull. Your next words are quieter and lower, forcing him to pay close attention. 
“You just wanted to prove something, right? Thought you’d fuck me on this table and run like you always do? For what, to prove you could?” 
His nostrils flare, and you don’t miss how he grits his teeth.
You don’t falter; he doesn’t scare you. You press on with your accusations prickly on your tongue. You back him against the wall next to the door as you continue. 
“You don’t like hearing it?” you cock your head at him, amused with his discomfort. “Were you going to leave me here in the alley full of your come like I’m some pathetic whore for you? Would you walk me back to my date after that? Was that your plan?” 
Joel snaps, manhandling you in a split second. Pinned against the brick wall, you can hear your heart pounding. It’s a paper-thin line between anger and lust, and you can’t tell which has your blood pumping. You can’t tell if he’s about to yell at you or fuck you. You hate that you can’t tell which you’d prefer.
His eyes are locked onto yours. Not revealing anything. You shift, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He doesn’t keep you waiting. Joel shoves his hand into your panties, fingers slipping immediately into the fresh pool of arousal between your thighs. A shaky exhale comes out of you, but he doesn’t seem to need to blink or breathe anymore. 
He brings his glossy fingers to your mouth. Silent. He taps at your lip until you open and suck, tasting yourself. His mask slips a little. One brow twitches as he studies the scene of your lips wrapped around both of his fingers. But his eyes flick to yours when he pulls them out of your mouth and drags them down your bottom lip, smearing spit against your chin. 
“Tell me,” he says in a whisper that scrapes across your skin, “does it taste like you miss me?” 
You swallow tightly. A lump forms in your throat now, about as large as a civilization-ending asteroid. 
You can hear your phone buzzing. Forgotten on the table. Panic streaks over your eyes as you wonder how long you’ve been out here. You duck under his arm, dashing for your phone. You don’t look at him. You can’t. As you sprint down the hallway, you swing the door open, kicking the rock in the door jam, hopefully locking Joel outside. Cursing at yourself for almost letting Joel fuck you in the alley across from a dumpster.  
Dave sits in his car, idling along the curb near the front of the club. You’re surprised he didn’t leave. You hope it hasn’t been long. You don’t dare check your phone. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or it could have been an hour. You don’t think time functions normally when you’re around Joel. 
Dave is frighteningly observant, slinking out of his car to open the door for you before you get close enough to reach for the handle. 
“I was just starting to wonder if you’d snuck out the back door,” he chides. 
You feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin. Hot with embarrassment over your behavior and his on-the-nose word choice. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I did step out for some air. Wanted to cool down.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he assures you, tilting your chin towards his face with his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes dart around his face, wondering what he sees on yours. “Was it too much, dirty girl?” he coos. 
“What, this?” you lilt mockingly as you palm over his bulge, “I don’t think so.” 
“Good,” he snorts softly. “Get in the car.” He adds as he opens the door for you. 
He pauses before pulling away from the curb once seated in the driver’s side. 
“Is your boyfriend going to be following us home?” 
“My what?” you feel the blood drain from your face. 
“The one from the bar,” he continues, measured and eerily calm, “the one who followed us here?” Your head starts spinning at that, but Dave carries on, unbothered. “I assumed he likes to watch. You should’ve told me. It would’ve been easier than wondering if he’s a deranged stalker or–” 
“No.” You cut him off and struggle to continue for multiple reasons. “It’s not like that. I thought it was a coincidence,” you feel a confusing mix of emotions. 
“Followed us?” you’re curious. 
“When I picked you up. In the truck?”
“Oh god. No. He’s,” you pause, searching for the right words. 
“An ex?” 
“Not even that. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’d follow me.” 
“So he is dangerous?” 
“No.” Only to my self-respect. 
“You want me to take care of him?” 
“No.” You reply before putting any thought behind what that means. “No. He’s just an asshole with a staring problem.” 
You withdraw. You hadn’t thought about why Joel was here. How ridiculous it sounds to imagine Joel voluntarily sitting at the bar in a club like this alone. You feel the blood rushing to your ears. Stupid little butterflies flap their wings in your stomach before they’re reduced to ashes, and you begin to see red again tonight. How is Joel ruining your night without saying a word this time? 
“Take me home,” you say firmly.
He does. Dave walks you to your door. You invite him in, but he’s observant, noticing the clouds in your expression. He declines your invite but assures you he would be very interested in seeing you again. He gives you a chaste kiss that makes you laugh, considering how bold you both have been tonight. It lightens your mood. 
He lingers for a moment before he pulls out his wallet. 
“It was on the house this time,” you snark. Curious about what he’s doing. 
He hands you a sleek business card. A business card? Is this guy Patrick Bateman? 
Your face wrinkles in confusion. 
“I already have your number,” you flip the card over in case you’re missing something. It doesn’t say anything, just has a phone number. 
“I meant what I said, that I’d be interested in seeing you again for pleasure,” he smirks, “but if you change your mind, at least keep this.” 
You don’t understand why you’d need his work phone number but try to play it cool and nod. 
“If your stalker becomes a problem, you call me.” 
You’re still confused about what that means when he drives away. As you shut your door, you realize you have no idea what he does. 
You’re still in the middle of composing a text to Katie about how her green flag date included a bathroom blowjob and a business card when you hear a knock at your door. You swing it open, assuming foolishly that it would be Dave. 
Before you can blink, Joel kicks the door shut and backs you down the hallway. He looks like a man possessed as he hurtles towards you. It sends a chill down your spine that you think would trigger your fight or flight response, but yours seems to be reprogrammed to fight or fuck. Staggering backward, you yelp when the backs of your knees hit your mattress. 
“Can I fucking help you?” you snap at him as you realign with reality. “Jesus Christ, Joel, were you waiting outside the window or something?” 
You glare into his eyes, but a toxic part of you only wants to focus on his lips. And how close they are to yours. You also can’t deny the even more debauched part of you that flutters at the possessive look in Joel’s eyes. 
He laughs darkly, “Nah baby, I knew you’d send him on his way.” 
You roll your eyes at that. Cocky bastard. 
And he is. He emits a frenzied energy as he takes you in. Looking you up and down like a prize. Like he’s considering where to write his name on your skin. 
You roll your shoulders. Trying to shake off the idea that you’d like to be possessed by him, but it thrums persistently inside of you. 
“You didn’t know shit, Miller,” you accuse sardonically. 
Joel reaches for you. You think he’s going to tell you off. But his hands glide over the tops of your shoulders and up the column of your neck until he’s cupping your jaw in both hands. It feels jarring and vulnerable to be held by him this way. To feel like he just wants to look at you and to know you can’t look away. You wonder what’s going on behind his dark eyes. What he sees when he looks at you What he thinks. 
The longer he looks at you, the more the tension builds (of course, because it’s Joel). You start to itch, fingers twitching with the need to grab him and pull his full weight on top of you. Despite your building desire, he’s still quietly reading your face. Joel Miller, the enigma, you muse. 
Before you can flip him any shit, his mouth is on yours, and his hands drop to your hips to hold you firmly against his body. You want him to keep holding you there, but closer. You need him even closer. 
He groans into your mouth, and you kiss him back hungrily. Your bodies slot together in a twisted fate. You couldn’t care less about the date you just had at this moment. You can hear Joel’s words from previous encounters that have burrowed into your consciousness, and you’re starving for more.  
A selfish and greedy satisfaction warms in your chest at him being in your bedroom. He pulls your lower lip between his teeth before breaking away to tease bites along your neck and shoulder. You shiver. Your fingers dig into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your knees buckle, and fall into the bed with him on top of you. He doesn’t stop trying to taste you everywhere, trying to feel every part of you. You breathe out single-syllable praise as your thoughts become hazy.  
You still feel needy. You writhe and strain as you attempt to work his shirt up his broad frame. You’re insistent on feeling the blistering heat of his skin against yours. He leans back up, out of your grip, causing you to sigh in exasperation. Of course, it couldn’t be this easy. What does he have to say now?
“You want me to leave?” 
“What? Why?” you growl out. He is not about to body slam you into a bed and then walk away. 
“Thought you were done with my ‘weird shit’ or whatever you called it,” he taunts. 
“I am,” you huff.
“Tell me to stop.” You can’t. 
“Take your clothes off,” you answer instead. 
He does. Then, he’s pulling your clothes off and climbing over you. You aren’t sure you’ve ever both been fully naked like this. Definitely not while in a bed, at least. It’s more intimate than your relationship calls for. It makes time feel syrupy, but your other senses feel sharply tuned. Joel’s breath fans hot over your ear as he tucks his face into the corner of your neck and shoulder. 
“So,” he sucks at your delicate skin before continuing in his smoky tone, “your date couldn’t satisfy you?” 
“Shut up,” you snarl at him, uninterested in playing games. You’re too lost in the intensity of his physical presence. You need him inside of you, and you tug at his body, trying to pull him closer. It’s useless. His strong arms are braced like two stone pillars on either side of you. 
He’s such a pest. His mouth quirks, and he looks all too pleased with himself. You roll your eyes again. You know what he’s getting at. What he wants to hear you say. But, you’re reluctant to stroke his ego. He’s going to be unbearable if. The thorn of it that hurts the most, though, is that it’s not a lie. It’s an admission. A confirmation. 
He makes you feel so good in ways nobody else ever could, but the pain of knowing he’ll never be yours eats at you. It feels like exposing your beating heart in your chest to confess you want him so badly. You ache to hear him tell you he only wants you again. Even if it’s not real, you lie to yourself, you just need to hear it.  
While you wrestle with finding the words, he begins to torment you. The heat and arousal weigh heavily between your naked bodies. He lowers closer and closer to where you need him most but refuses to alleviate your painful want. Wickedly, he exploits your neediness. Teasing at your skin with his tongue, teeth, and breath. 
“Tell me, baby. Just let me hear it,” he says. But you can’t. 
When he blows air over your strained nipples, and you arch under him seeking contact, he darts down to kiss at your stomach and inner thighs instead. When he gets closer and closer to the apex of your thighs, grazing his nose over your mound, you could snap. 
You reach to dig your fingers into his hair and direct his mouth to your throbbing clit, but he’s stronger than you. Devilish man. He crawls back up to hover over your face. You know he’s enjoying it. Wondering how quickly you’ll break. It makes you want to kick and scream.
“Tell me it’s not true then,” it’s a challenge directed at you, but it feels like he’s also challenging himself. 
He drags the head of his cock over the slick lips of your cunt without precision or direction. You are so convinced he’s torturing you, but he looks like he’s in pain from restraining himself as well. It makes you crazy. You try to reach down to line him up with your entrance yourself, but he’s faster. He grabs your hand and pins it above your head. 
“Fine,” you grit out. Frustrated. You aim to smother your fear with sarcasm and puff your chest, hoping it works. 
“You’re right, Joel. It’s true.” He doesn’t move, waiting to hear more. 
“I missed your filthy mouth and your big fat cock.” You mock with an exaggerated whine. You keep going before you lose courage. “And my date couldn’t satisfy me.” You pause, steeling yourself. The corner of his mouth twitches.
“Because even when I had his cock down my throat,” you force yourself to look in his eyes, “all I could think about was you.” 
You tried to keep the snarky, biting tone in that last part, but your voice betrayed you when you met his eyes. It came out sounding as vulnerable as it felt to say. His expression flickers. You feel too honest. You should take it back. You want to curl up. He grins above you. 
“I know, baby,” he coos. You hold your breath. Of course he’s going to be a condescending ass about it, you start to bemoan internally–but when he finally sinks into you, it shuts off your inner monologue and slows down time. “All I can fuckin’ think about,” he says as he fills you as deeply as possible, letting a satisfied sigh fall from his lips. 
All I can fuckin’ think about. 
The words rattle around in your mind. Joel begins to rock into you, deliberately grinding his pelvis against you. All he can think about is you, too? Or fucking you? Or how he’s ruined you for other men? 
All I can fuckin’ think about. 
It echoes in your head as he picks up his pace, splitting you open with heavy, mind-altering thrusts. Suffocatingly intimate. Face to face. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. His voice isn’t just echoing in your mind; he’s also running his mouth about something. Muttering about how he knew you’d be waiting for him, how he’s going to fuck you until you forget your date's name, how nobody else can satisfy your needy cunt. 
Oh. 
He’s not wrong. You want to hear more. 
“Yes,” You can stoke this fire. You don’t mind finding out what happens if you rile him up while he’s inside you. “Only you,” you pant, “nobody else fucks me like you do.” 
He makes a throaty noise in agreement and shifts. Large hands wrap around the back of your knees and press them towards your chest, tilting your hips up. You choke and sputter as he slams into you with force. The new angle creates a blissful intensity. 
“That’s right,” he says, “nobody else.” 
He pounds into you like he could fuck you through the mattress, maybe even through the floor. The lewd sound of his thighs slapping against your ass fill the room. You tuck your chin to your chest to watch the way each thrust makes your breasts bounce. You notice that he’s mesmerized by the same sight, and you take the opportunity to shift your gaze, studying the look on his face. 
It’s more sensual than anything you’ve done together before. You can see the sweat beading on his chest from exertion. You’re nearly folded in half and unable to stop your soft cries and moans. It’s raw, sticky, and vulnerable. You feel warmed at the thought but also fragile. Breakable. Hypersensitive emotionally and physically. It’s all too bright and hot. 
You let his voice push you over the edge, and your climax rips fiercely through your body. You faintly hear him groan as your tight walls contract around him, but his voice is drowned out by the pleasure. Your legs tremble, still balanced over his shoulders. 
Your core muscles spasm as he keeps sawing into you until your hips are jerking at the sensitivity of your come down. He slows, breathing heavily over you. You can see the animalistic edge in his eyes. You have to push it. Play it out. 
“Make me yours,” you incite. 
You definitely just meant to imply, ‘fuck me hard and come inside me, please,’ but you worry he’s interpreted it differently when he drops your legs. Wrong. He turns you over, laying you flat on your stomach, pulling your arms behind your back, and pinning you to the bed.  He straddles your closed legs. Your shoulders strain a little as he leans into you. His heavy body compresses your prone form, and his cock weighs heavy against the curve of your ass; it feels right. A perverted comfort blanket, stealing your breath. 
“Repeat it,” he tells the back of your neck. 
“Make me yours.” You turn your head to the side. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the string of curses he chants when he lines up and wedges himself into you. The added constriction of your position unravels you both. 
“Mine,” he grunts. You muffle your own noises into the sheets, along for the ride. He doesn’t last much longer before you feel him still overtop of you. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of the pulsing and throbbing of his cock inside you as he fills you up. Breathing deep, your back rises against his chest before he slides off of you.
You roll onto your side. Facing each other, you still at the sight of him. Another breath shared between you, chests expanding towards each other. For the briefest moment, you think he might stay. You can see the soft edge of relaxation in his features. Your hand drifts toward him, an instinct based on nothing rational, just wanting to feel him. You feel the stupid, dreamy expression settling on your face. Before you can speak or figure out what you were reaching for, he’s snapped out of the bubble of tranquility. His walls are up. 
He’s dressed and leaving, walking towards the door as you can only sigh into your dirty sheets. 
He doesn’t even leave with a snide last word. Just the door closing. 
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userparamore · 8 months ago
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PEDRO PASCAL as DAVE YORK The Equalizer 2 (2018) | dir. Antoine Fuqua
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littleredpandanaps · 3 hours ago
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Super hot and a cliffhanger?! I'm there!
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Ice Cold
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Pairing: Dave York x f!reader
Summary: Dave ghosts you, so you get even by dating someone else in the office. That doesn't sit well with Dave.
Warnings: language, angst, jealousy, possessiveness, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, pussy pronouns, one spank, infidelity, minor violence, office sex, sexual tension
WC: 6.5K
Collection Masterlist
You had become a part of his routine without him even realizing it. Twice a week, minimum, he would seek you out. And it was always on a night when he was doing some work "off the books". Whether it was tailing a target, doing some recon, or actually finishing the job itself, he always found himself driving to your side of town, parking his car a few blocks away, and under the cover of night he would sneak up to your apartment and quietly undo the lock, letting himself inside.
You weren't aware of the pattern. At least, he didn't think you were. The days of the week were always different, but it was always in the middle of the night and he was always dressed in all black.
Hell, maybe you did know. If you did, you never brought it up. Even after his injury, you never asked any questions.
Maybe that was why he kept coming back to you. It was nice having someone who didn't pry, someone he couldn't implicate. You both wanted the same thing - that thing being him fucking you senseless while you babbled his name and clawed at his back, or the sheets, or the wall, or the goddamn floor. He had been seeing you long enough that he had fucked you all over your apartment.
But on that particular night, Dave realized how much he had grown to depend on the release you gave him. How much he thought about coming to see you once his work was done. And more importantly, how much he was growing to care for you.
That wasn't good. When did he become so reckless? One wrong move because he was distracted with thoughts of you and he was dead.
So that was how he found himself staring up at your apartment building, sitting silently in his car. He squinted, searching the rows and rows of windows until he finally saw one with a familiar, small orchid. As if on cue, his cock began to swell. He clenched his jaw and palmed himself through his pants while he weighed his options.
It took every ounce of willpower to start his engine and pull away from the curb.
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It had been three weeks since Dave had come to see you and it was driving you insane. You sat right outside his fucking office every single day, watching him go in and out of meetings, chat with executives by the coffee machine, and take phone calls with clients while laughing and resting his feet on top of his desk.
All the while, he hardly spared you a single glance.
That wasn't necessarily new. Ever since this thing you had began, he did his best to keep his distance from you at work. You assumed it was part of the excitement for him: pretending the other didn't exist until a day later he would show up at two in the morning and fuck your brains out.
But something felt different, now. Something was off. And he never, ever, went more than a week without seeing you.
When he stood to speak in meetings, he wouldn't look in your direction whatsoever. If you dropped something off on his desk, he didn't look up. He ignored you when you tried to say hi as he breezed past your desk but if your co-worker on the other side of your cubical said hello to him, he would smile warmly and greet them in return, making your blood boil.
After having your feelings hurt for maybe the fifth time that week, you had just about enough. You snatched a random file folder off your desk and marched up to his office. Your knuckles rapped loudly on the door while your heart did cartwheels in your chest, and when he called out from the other side to enter, you took a deep breath and stepped inside, closing the door quickly behind you.
"What the fuck is your problem?" you seethed. Dave's shoulders stiffened when he heard your voice and slowly turned away from his computer to pin you with a steely glare.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," you said angrily. "What the hell is going on? You're icing me out. What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything," he said, tone clipped. "I'm busy."
"Busy?" you repeated mockingly. "You've been busy for three weeks? You can't even look me in the eye most days. What is this? Some weird power trip?"
Dave shook his head and tensed his jaw. "No."
Silence fell between you at that point. You had thought he would have put up more of a fight, argued back, done or said something, but he just fucking... sat there, gaze flickering between you and a spot on the wall behind you.
"So... what?" you asked, voice quieter but still cold. "This is over? You don't want to see me anymore?"
You watched him work his jaw while tapping an expensive looking pen anxiously on a blank pad of paper. His eyes watched the movement while the silence stretched on painfully between you. When the answer became clear based on the way he avoided your eye and refused to speak, your shoulders sagged and you swallowed tightly.
"Right," you said bitterly. Without thinking, you angrily threw the file you were holding at his chest. He jumped and tried to catch it, but gave up when papers fluttered all over his desk and floor.
And he still didn't say a fucking word.
"Could've at least been a man and told me you were done with me to my fucking face," you snarled, then turned on your heel and disappeared back out into the office. You resisted the urge to slam his door behind you, knowing it would have caused a scene, and decided at the last minute to just leave it ajar.
And for the first time possibly ever, when Dave stepped out of his office to leave for the day, you were already gone.
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Michael was nice. A little nerdy, a little awkward, but he was relatively good looking and he was sweet. He held doors open for you, always asked questions to get to know you better instead of always talking about himself, and never once pressured you to go home with him, even after you had been out with him several times.
Then again, he was probably too timid to ask you back to his place. Which was fine with you, given you were still struggling to recover from your break up, or... whatever it was that happened between you and Dave.
The week following your outburst in Dave's office, he disappeared for five days. Some people said he was on a business trip, so you chose to believe them. In that time, you had gone on two dates and three lunches with Michael.
He worked in your office, too. He had trained you when you first started and while you hadn't given him a second thought once your training was complete, you caught his gaze lingering on you in the break room the day after your argument with Dave and you made a stupid decision. You flirted with him, asked him if he was seeing anyone, and of course, he asked you to the movies that weekend.
Initially, you had made a rash decision based entirely around making Dave jealous. But when he disappeared for a week and you kept seeing Michael, your attitude shifted a bit. You had decided it was best to move on, and who better to move on with than a nice guy who treated you well?
And it really felt like it was working, too. When you ran into Michael at the water cooler, it gave you butterflies and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling. But in the back of your mind, Dave always lurked. You knew you'd run into him again. It was impossible not to. But when you finally did, it managed to take you completely off guard.
The day it happened, you and Michael were sitting together in the corner of the lunchroom. You had just finished your food and were listening to him tell you a story about a car accident he witnessed on the way into work that morning when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye.
You knew it was Dave before you even saw him. It was like your body just sensed him nearby. Your skin felt flush under the heat of his gaze and your hand began to tremble in your lap when it seemed like he wasn't moving, just frozen and fucking staring. Nervously, you cleared your throat and tossed your hair over your shoulder to glance his way.
His eyes immediately locked with yours. He was gripping a mug of coffee so tightly that you could see the whites of his knuckles even from the opposite side of the room. Michael was still talking, oblivious to the tense moment you were sharing with another man right in front of him.
Another man who, when you were falling asleep at night, still imagined breaking into your apartment while you slept.
Another man who you could still feel inside of you.
Another man who was suddenly crossing the room and making a beeline for your table.
"York," Michael said, sounding surprised when Dave approached. "How was Akron?"
"Fine," Dave said, his eyes never leaving yours. You gulped.
Michael blinked and seemed to remember his manners, introducing you to Dave followed by not sure if you've met.
"We have," Dave replied. He finally tore his eyes away from you to fix Michael with a look that could melt steel when his hand rested nonchalantly on your thigh.
It was under the table, but Dave noticed. He noticed everything.
"She sits right outside my office," Dave reminded him before dragging his gaze back to you.
Michael chuckled and stammered something but you didn't listen. You couldn't. Not with the way your ears were ringing and your pulse thrumming so fast, you thought the whole room could hear.
"Is there something we can do for you?" Michael asked when the awkward silence had gone on too long. Had you even said a word yet? Jesus Christ.
"Yeah," Dave replied, shoving a fist into his pocket. His other hand still tightly gripped his mug and you could tell by the way he bounced a little on his heels and loosened his shoulders that he was trying to come off as relaxed, but you knew better. You knew Dave very well.
"Just wanted to check with you and make sure you're still free for that meeting later?"
It took you at least half a minute to realize Dave was speaking to you.
You straightened your back and crossed your legs under your skirt, forcing yourself to snap out of it.
"Uh, yeah," you mumbled. You had assumed he was just making it up, to fabricate an excuse for him to come over, but then he said, "At four. My office?"
Four. His office.
Your heart was hammering in your chest.
"Y-yeah. Yes."
"Don't keep her too long, York. We're catching dinner tonight, don't wanna be late," Michael said with a sweet, clueless grin in your direction. You tried to mirror him but the best you could do was a shaky smile.
Dave's eyes burned holes into you when he said, "That right? Somewhere nice?"
Michael began to talk about the Italian restaurant he had made reservations for, blabbering on and on about the Sunday sauce and the fucking bread they made in house. Meanwhile, you were wilting under Dave's glare and praying to whatever god was out there that you didn't faint from the pressure.
"Well, I'll do my best," Dave smirked, acknowledging Michael's original concern before swiveling around and disappearing back into the depths of the office.
"Guy's intense," Michael chuckled. You managed to choke out a soft laugh while you shakily cleaned up your lunch. "I didn't know you had meetings with him. What's his deal?"
"Uh, I don't know," you shrugged. "He's alright. Quiet. Keeps to himself."
"I notice he never really talks about himself. Always steers the conversation back to the other person. You ever notice that?"
You frowned and pursed your lips. Did Michael pick up on something between you and Dave?
"I don't think so. We don't talk much."
"When I asked about Akron, for instance, he dodged the question," Michael continued.
"Maybe there's just not much to say about Akron," you shrugged. Who the hell cared? You had bigger things to worry about.
A beat of silence passed between you as Michael walked you back to your desk, but thankfully once you got there, he was back to his usual self once again. He kissed your cheek and said he was looking forward to later, to which you smiled and agreed. But when you turned your back to sit down, Michael's eyes found Dave's from within his office. Michael gave him a terse nod and headed back in the direction of his desk halfway across the massive, open space, leaving you to panic for the next three hours over what the hell Dave really had planned for you at four o'clock.
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One minute after four and you found yourself seated across from Dave in his office. You had brought a pad of paper and pen but you had no idea what you would need it for. You triple checked your calendar earlier - there was no meeting at four. So your anxiety just built up all afternoon and was on the verge of boiling over as you watched him calmly scroll through emails while casually pressing the tip of two fingers against his lower lip, giving you the impression he was deep in thought as you squirmed impatiently in your seat.
"You're a lot quieter than the last time you came in here."
Those were the first words he said to you. His gaze still remained fixed on his monitor while you formulated a response.
"What else is there to say?"
His dark eyes flickered over to you and you swore you saw something soft there, but he blinked and suddenly it was gone.
"Guess you're right," he murmured before focusing back on his computer. He waited a minute before adding, "Does he treat you well?"
You glanced at the clock: five after four.
"There's no meeting, is there?" you asked.
"Sure, there is."
Your eyes dropped to his and you swallowed tightly. Fuck, why did he have to look so good? He was just wearing a light blue button down and red tie, but his shoulders looked ready to burst out of the fabric and you kept fantasizing about that goddamn tie dangling in your face as his hands pushed your legs apart to make room for his hips.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, snapping you out of your reverie.
"No," you whispered hoarsely. You cleared your throat but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch and his eyes dart down to catch your thighs pressing together.
"You sure? You look a little warm."
"I'm fine," you hissed.
"You didn't answer my question."
"I know."
Dave sighed and let his hand fall from his computer mouse so he could turn and face you properly.
"Just tell me if he's treating you well, and I'll let it go."
You swallowed again and fixed your gaze on his desk when you said, "Yes. He's nice."
Dave nodded once. "Nicer than me?"
"I thought you said you'd let it go."
He smirked and laced his fingers together on his desk. "I'm finding it harder than I thought to let things go that pertain to you."
Butterflies bloomed in your stomach and you tried your hardest to control your breathing while those goddamn beautiful eyes of his kept staring at you, waiting for an answer.
"It's - I can't compare you to him," you said quietly. His shoulders stilled and you realized he was holding his breath. "It's not exactly apples to apples. He doesn't sneak into my apartment in the middle of the night and you didn't take me to Italian restaurants."
"Is that what you wanted? For me to take you out?" he asked, the vulnerability in his voice surprising you.
"Uh, well, I - I never really-"
A shrill ring pierced the air and the red light on the corner of his desk phone lit up. His hand immediately stretched out to tap a button and he cleared his throat.
"York."
A female voice greeted him on the other end, announcing that he was on speakerphone with a handful of others whose names she rattled off and you realized that there was, in fact, a meeting. Dave tapped another button, presumably the mute button, so he could point to your pen.
"I need you to take notes."
You nodded numbly and slowly picked up your pen, jotting down the date in the corner of a blank page while your mind was reeling. You did your best to write down key phrases and talking points, but your brain was scrambled from the past ten minutes.
"So," Dave said casually, leaning back in his chair. "He's nice, takes you to restaurants-"
Your eyes flickered to the phone, checking to make sure he was still muted.
"-what else?"
Your jaw tensed and you dropped your pen. There was a meeting, sure, but clearly not an important one. It was all a ruse, after all.
"You're the one who stopped coming to see me, remember?" you snapped. His eyebrows twitched but otherwise he didn't move. "Why are you doing this? Why are you asking me all these questions when I'm just trying to move on-"
"You're mad."
"Yes, I'm mad!" you exclaimed, then lowered your voice and rubbed the back of your neck with a sigh.
"And you're tense," he added lowly. You nodded and rolled your head from side to side. Dave's eyes fell to the soft skin of your neck and he licked his lips.
"Yes," you whispered.
He hummed and tented his fingers together, deep in thought.
"Seems like being nice and taking you for expensive dinners doesn't hold up well in bed," he taunted, making your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare.
"Stop it."
"Tell me I'm wrong," Dave pressed, leaning forward again and resting his forearms on the desktop. Your gaze fell to his hands; those thick, skilled fingers and that strong grip. Your legs began to tremble from how hard you were clenching them together. When you didn't answer, he grew impatient.
"Just tell me and I promise I'll let it go."
People walked by Dave's office. You could hear their muffled voices laughing while you sat there, feeling like you were about to combust.
He wouldn't stop. You could tell by the look in his eye, he wasn't ever going to let you leave without admitting it. So, you sighed and crossed your arms.
"We haven't had sex. Happy?"
His face instantly lit up but he tried to hide it with a condescending frown.
"Oh, baby, no wonder you're all worked up," he cooed.
"I'm worked up because you're being an asshole."
Dave shrugged. "Maybe. Either way, I can help you."
You barked out a laugh and rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat that flared between your legs. "How's that? Waking me up in the middle of the night so you can fuck me and disappear?"
Something not unlike regret flickered across his face.
"I didn't realize our arrangement wasn't working for you," he admitted, not a trace of teasing to be found in his voice.
"It wasn't working for you, if I recall," you shot back. You refused to let him confuse you. Did you wonder what it would be like to have a normal relationship with Dave? Sure. But you knew what you signed up for from the beginning, and that was fine. You never said a word otherwise and didn't plan on it.
He was the one who stopped showing up.
"Not true," he said with a shake of his head. "It was working too well. That was the problem." Your eyes widened as you listened to him speak. You had resigned yourself to never getting closure with Dave, but it turned out you were wrong. His fingers tapped nervously on the desk while a man's voice began to filter through the speaker on his phone.
"You were becoming a distraction. And a constant," he continued after a moment. "It was getting too risky for us both, so..."
"So you ghosted me."
Shame passed over his face when he nodded.
"Yeah."
You sniffled and silently stared down at your lap. It made sense. Whatever it was he did at night was dangerous and illegal, that much you knew. You had to imagine many bad people would try to get to Dave at any given time, try to kill him, so he couldn't risk lowering his guard, and he couldn't risk putting you in harm's way.
"You could have just told me that instead of making me feel like shit for weeks," you grumbled. Dave nodded.
"I know. I'm- I'm sorry."
Closure. An apology. Finally.
You sighed and dragged your gaze back up to his.
"Apology accepted."
More muffled voices walked past his office while you stared at one another. The words projection and budget and sales were being said in a monotone voice through his phone, but neither of you absorbed any of it. You were too lost in each other's eyes as the heat that always seemed to crackle between you grew even hotter.
"Are we good now?" you asked, breaking the spell.
"Good?" he repeated while tilting his head to the side.
You swallowed. "Yeah. Good. Can we work together without this being weird?"
Slowly, he nodded, but you could still feel that familiar spark. The one you usually felt in the stillness of your apartment late at night.
The tension was too thick. You had to look somewhere else, anywhere else, so your eyes found the clock behind him. Half past four.
"Something wrong?"
Your eyes shifted back to his face.
"No," you murmured. He shook his sleeve loose and glanced down at his watch.
"Don't worry, I'll get you to your date on time."
You had completely forgotten about your dinner plans with Michael. Something must have given that thought away because Dave smirked and shot you a knowing look.
"That's what you're thinking about, right?" he asked with a teasing edge to his voice. Then his gaze dropped down to your lap where your legs remained pressed tightly together. "Or are you thinking about something else?"
Your pulse fluttered nervously in your throat and you could have sworn Dave saw it, like a predator zeroing in on his prey.
"No," you lied, voice coming out thick and raspy, making your chest flush with embarrassment.
Dave hummed and looked away, pretending to read something in his email while he not so subtly dropped a hand to adjust himself through his black dress pants. You mouth watered at just the mere memory of his thick cock lying heavy across your tongue and you made a soft noise in the back of your throat. Dave focused on you again and grinned.
"You sure you're not thinking about anything else?"
You shook your head, trying to ignore the pull low in your belly when he looked at you like that. But when he leaned forward in his chair and you found your own body drifting forward like a fucking magnet, you knew you were done for.
"Can I tell you what I'm thinking about?" he asked. You gulped and nodded before you even had a chance to think it over. He smirked and ticked his jaw to the side, clocking the way your chest rose twice as fast as normal underneath your blouse.
"I'm thinking about how good that tight little cunt would feel right about now," he said lowly. You whimpered and glanced at the phone again, confirming the mute button was still lit up before looking back at Dave. He was still pinning you with the darkest stare, as if people weren't yapping through the speaker or walking past his office every few minutes.
"She's all wet for me, isn't she?" he goaded from across his desk. With a last ditch attempt at having some dignity, you shook your head, voice long gone and no longer trustworthy. Dave tsked and narrowed his eyes.
"You're lying."
You glanced at the clock again, cheeks flaring with heat under his tense gaze, then cleared your throat and forced yourself to speak.
"I'm not lying."
Even to you, your voice sounded broken and foreign.
"Prove it," he whispered.
Your breath stuttered and you felt a gush of arousal flood your panties, betraying the very words you just spoke. And even though you knew you shouldn't, even though you knew it would undo all the progress you thought you just made, you found yourself murmuring, "Here?"
"Here," he replied firmly, then patted the top of his desk and slowly leaned back in his chair while spreading his legs, waiting for you to make your decision.
You rose to your feet before you even had a chance to think, but that's how it always was with Dave. The things he said and did to you caused your mind to go blank and just give in.
A small chorus of laughter echoed through the phone but neither of you registered it when you rounded his desk and stood between his knees.
To his credit, he kept his eyes on your face, even after you perched on the edge of his desk and propped up a heeled foot on either arm rest of his chair, caging him in. You bunched up the fabric of your skirt, breath coming in excited, shallow pants, before pressing one hand flat onto the desk behind you, holding yourself up. Dave's expression didn't change. He kept staring deep into your eyes throughout it all, but when you hooked your underwear to the side and revealed your glistening cunt underneath your skirt, his eyes finally dropped to take a look.
"Christ," he groaned, tugging at the knot of his tie. You smirked when you finally saw the crack in his armor. His brows pinched together as if he were in pain as he continued to stare between your legs. After what felt like an eternity, he swallowed and met your gaze again.
"You lied."
"I know."
He stood up in a flash, his chair rolling somewhere behind him while your legs dropped to dangle over the edge of the wood. He made a move to grab your thighs but hesitated. Instead, he curled his hands into fists and planted them on either side of you.
"Tell me what you want," he said darkly, lips hovering dangerously close to yours. You shuddered and your eyelids slid closed, breathing in the sweet scent of coffee, mint, and ink. "Tell me what you want and I'll do it," he said more firmly.
That was one of the things that kept you coming back to Dave: when it came to moments like that one, when you felt like you were floating and lost under his spell, he always reminded you who really held the power.
"I want you to fuck me," you whispered. Instantly, your mouths sealed together and his hands grabbed your thighs, pulling them even further apart so he could wedge his hips between them. With a quickness that shocked you, he reached under your skirt and tugged your underwear down your legs with one hand, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor before his hands were back on you again.
Your tongue slid past his parted lips to find its mate while your hand dropped to his belt. Shaky fingers tugged hastily at the leather while some woman droned on through the phone next to you.
You swallowed down his groan when you made quick work of opening his belt and pants, letting the fabric hang loose so you could reach for what you really wanted. At the same time you wrapped your fist around his smooth, aching cock, his fingers found your slit. He slipped two fingers past your lips and you whimpered into his mouth when you felt your arousal begin to leak out onto his desk.
"Fuck," he groaned before swiping his fingers through your pussy once more. "Fuck, you're so wet. You need me bad, huh?"
"Yeah," you whined, biting at his lower lip once before your mouth drifted down to his jaw. You scooted closer to the edge of his desk and pulled him in, hand still stroking his erection. Dropping your chin to your chest, you looked down between your bodies. He was leaking and rock hard and so fucking close to where you needed him.
With your free hand, you curled your fingers around the back of his neck and pulled his mouth against your throat, moaning when his lips made contact with your pulse point.
"Can't be loud," he panted. The tip of his cock bumped against your pussy and you bit back another moan.
"Y-yeah, okay," you stammered. "Just - please, Dave. Please-"
"I know, I know," he said, and each of you held your breath when he dropped his hips forward to notch at your entrance.
You tried to look him in the eye when he pressed inside, but the feeling of relief was so exquisite that it had you falling forward to bury your face into his neck.
He cursed softly under his breath once he was fully sheathed inside you, but all you could do was press your mouth firmly against his throat, hoping to muffle any noises that slipped past your lips once he began to move.
"Shit," he sighed when he drew himself halfway out just to thrust deep inside your cunt once again. Your eyebrows knit together as you concentrated on not making any noise, but it was a next to impossible task. The way he stretched you and filled you up just right every single time had you completely forgetting where you were.
His big hands found a home on your waist, holding you steady when he began to snap his hips faster. Your ankles hooked around the backs of his legs and your fingers clawed helplessly at his back while he fucked you, wishing you could cry out his name and beg for more.
"This is what you wanted, huh? This what you needed?"
He murmured into your ear as he pounded into you, each knock of his hips taking your breath away. All you could do was nod helplessly and take it.
"Not him. Me," he clarified. When you heard the jealousy in his voice, you smiled into his skin.
"Yes," you whispered.
"Fucking - say it," he grunted.
"Just you, Dave," you gasped. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix and you whimpered, praying it wasn't too loud. His hand shot up to grab your jaw, a thumb and forefinger pushing into each one of your cheeks. Startled, you opened your eyes.
"You're gonna go on your little dinner date," he growled, "and you're gonna have my cum leaking out of you. Every fucking time you move, you're gonna think of me. Right?"
"Yes," you hissed, then yanked your chin out of his grip so you could bend forward and whisper in his ear, "but I was going to be thinking about you either way."
That pleased him. He chuckled and held your hips steady before pulling out of you roughly. You whined and Dave pressed a finger against your lips.
"Turn around."
With a mischievous grin, you slid down from his desk and did as you were told, leaning your forearms on his desk and sticking out your ass. But right when he was ready to enter you again, you both heard his name through the phone.
He paused and reached forward to unmute and your heart sunk.
"Yeah, Kathy?"
You closed your eyes and let your forehead fall to your hands, already anticipating losing the build up of your orgasm, but much to your surprise, you felt the tip of his cock nestle between your folds. Your head snapped up right when he buried himself fully inside you, eyes bugging out of your head and your jaw hung open in a silent scream.
The phone wasn't muted. Kathy was yammering on about quarterly something or others, wanting to get Dave's take on things, while he was already slowly fucking you once again.
"Yeah, so, I think the projections for next month look very positive," Dave was saying while shallowing thrusting in and out of you. Your teeth sunk into the back of your hand and tears burned your eyes, but you remained perfectly quiet. "There's a few big clients we're ready to lock down any day now, and-"
Dave coughed when your cunt clenched around him, stilling his hips and causing him to dig his fingers into your waist.
"Excuse me," he said, voice sounding an octave higher than usual. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he began to fuck into you faster.
"Next quarter looks promising. Fourth quarter always dips below expectations-"
Dave grunted softly when your back arched and your hand reached behind you to grab his wrist. You began to rock your hips, matching his pace and pulsing around him with your lip trapped between your teeth. You were close.
"-we always make up for it the following year," he continued while reaching around, pressing the pad of his finger against your clit.
You gasped, completely forgetting about the phone. Half a second later, you folded your palm across your mouth. The timing was perfect, too, because Dave gave you a sharp smack across the ass as punishment while clearing his throat to cover up the noise.
A man's voice joined in through the phone, but you couldn't process a single word he said. Dave was fucking into you steadily now with a firm finger still drawing tight circles over your clit. Your hips were grinding into the edge of his desk, almost sure to leave bruises the following day, but you didn't care one bit. The pleasure that was mounting between your legs was overpowering every other sensation, and when it finally snapped, throwing you over the edge with a silent scream into your palm, nothing else mattered. Nothing except for Dave.
"Yes, Charles, I agree," he said through clenched teeth. Your climax was still rolling through you, causing your pussy to gush and squeeze around his cock, trying to pull him over the edge and give you what you wanted. What he promised.
Mercifully, Charles took the lead and began to give his own insight. Dave fell forward, chest hovering just over your back, and he slapped the mute button. The little button glowed red and he let out a low groan right next to your ear before he shuddered and then stilled. A moment later, you felt his release flooding your pussy, filling you up more and more with each soft moan that tumbled from his lips until he sighed and dropped his forehead to rest on the back of your shoulder.
"You're gonna get me fired," he murmured into your back. You laughed dryly with your eyes closed.
"Something tells me you'd be just fine."
Dave chuckled and slowly pushed himself up with a groan. One hand held your hip steady so he could pull out, grunting when he abandoned the warmth of your body. Almost instantly, you felt his seed trickle out of you, smearing between your thighs when you pressed them together.
You stood with a wince, legs and hips already aching, and went to fix your skirt when much to your surprise, Dave's hands got there first. He got down on his knees to take you gently by the ankles, guiding each leg through the material of your panties before sliding them back into place. Then his eyes locked with yours when he straightened your skirt, hands lingering on the bare skin of your calves for just a moment. You swallowed tightly, fascinated by the sight of him on his knees for you with such an endearing look across his face.
Behind you, voices in the phone were bidding everyone farewell, snapping Dave out of his trance. He stood and tapped the mute button, mimicked a polite goodbye, then hung up. His eyes drifted to you once again, still frozen in place up against his desk.
"Hope you aren't too late for your dinner."
You glanced at the clock and cursed when you saw it was already a few minutes past five.
"He's probably waiting out there for me," you told him. Dave nodded curtly and you thought that was your cue to leave, so you took one step forward. When his hand shot out to grab your arm, you swiveled back around.
Dave's lips met yours with the sweetest kiss you'd ever shared with him. There was no urgency or messiness or fighting for dominance. It was soft and tender and chaste, making your heart rattle inside your chest. But just as quickly as it started, it was over. He dropped your arm and slumped down tiredly in his chair, effectively dismissing you.
A big part of you wanted to ask if he was going to start coming by your apartment again, but you bit your tongue. What you just shared was probably just one last fuck for him; break up sex, if you were willing to call it a break up, and the last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself. So you ran your fingers through your hair and gathered your things before disappearing out into the office, softly shutting the door behind you, the whole time feeling Dave's gaze watching your every move.
Surprisingly, Michael was not at your desk. You didn't think anything of it, just grateful you had a few extra minutes to yourself to breathe and shift gears before having to see him. As you were packing up your things, you saw a pink post-it note stuck to your coffee mug: meet you in the parking ramp.
Okay, so he had been there at some point. It was probably a good thing Dave actually had a conference call at four. It kept you from feeling too paranoid as you switched off your light and pulled on your coat. You hurried to the elevator all alone, the floor almost entirely empty, which was no surprise for a Friday. Right before you stepped onto the elevator, you glanced back once towards Dave's closed door. His light was still on, the bright yellow glow peered out from the crack under his door.
All the way down to the parking garage, you were burdened by the words Dave moaned in your ear and the empty feeling he left inside your leaking pussy. Something about him was so magnetic, it was difficult to think about anything else. It was why you were so distracted walking towards your car in the dark parking garage and didn't hear the soft footsteps of a man sneaking up behind you, hitting you so hard over the head with something heavy and narrow that you passed out immediately.
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bruhlpng · 7 months ago
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Pedro Pascal as Dave York The Equalizer 2 (2018)
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pasc4lfuzz · 6 months ago
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we don't talk about this gif as much as we should, I mean.... we can see it all, Dave is armed all the time and I'm not talking about guns.
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perotovar · 4 months ago
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PEDRO PASCAL as DAVE YORK The Equalizer 2 (2018) dir. Antoine Fuqua
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absurdthirst · 9 days ago
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New Year, New Murder {Dave York x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 12.5k
Warnings: Arguing, lusting after a married man, murder daddy, assassinations, undercover role-play, crossing a line, infidelity (?), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, different positions, disgust, self loathing, abandonment, drugging, shooting, Dave being a charming bastard, lovemaking
Comments: Wanting to go into the field as an operative, you keep getting held back by your boss, Dave York. Handsome, married, he's everything you want and you hate yourself for it. Until you convince him to let you work a target with him on New Year's Eve and everything changes.
🎉🎉Happy New Year! I know it's late, but we were recovering 😂
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||
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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.
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“I have the schematics for the building, and it looks like the best exit point is at the north end corner, through the kitchens.” You know that you can count on Dave York to ask a million other questions and try to poke holes in the information that you are giving him, but this is rock solid. You don’t even turn back towards the four men that are sitting around the conference room. You know that they are watching closely. Every piece of intel that you can give can mean the difference between life and death. They know that you want them to come out on the other side of the op, hell, you want to be in the op. “The best possible plan you could have would involve five.” You point out. “Your four man team and a fifth.” Now you turn around. “A woman.” You add. “It’s New Year’s Eve. I would be the perfect cover for Dave.” Your eyes slide over to meet his dark eyes. You shouldn’t be attracted to him, he’s married and worse, he’s turned down every request for you to move to the field.You should hate him, but you find your stomach twisting with that familiar pull that can only be described as pure lust. 
Dave hums at your idea, his stomach twisting at the idea of you out there in the field. He doesn’t want to put his best techie at risk. You are the one in his ear on ops, the reassuring presence that lets him go home every time. You’re smart…and beautiful. Too beautiful. He watches you stand there, the screen behind you displaying the floor plan of the hotel. “I don’t think I need a woman. I will be just fine on my own.” He insists, tapping his fingers on the conference table.
“Of course.” You want to say something sarcastic but you just shoot him a tight smile and turn back towards the presentation. You had known he would turn you down, but you had a try.
You go over the details of the op, showing him the best exits in the building and how to blend in, discussing some of the attendees. Dave nods and takes mental notes, his eyes drifting along your form when you turn your back to him. When you're done, he dismisses the team and stands up, watching you as you shut down the screen. "You have a problem, sweetheart?" He asks, noticing how tense you are.
“Yeah, I do.” You spit out, before you shut your mouth again. It doesn’t make a difference, the team leader is stubborn. “Well?” He chuckles when you don’t say anything else as you pack up your computer with obviously irritated, jerky movements. “What is it?” The mere question pisses you off and you whirl around, eyes flashing angrily. “You know as well as I do that this plan would be better with a woman going in with you.” You hiss. “But for some damn reason, you think I couldn’t handle a little field work.”
Dave scoffs, watching you act like a teenager. “It would work better but then I’d have to focus on not only getting in and out without being noticed, killing the target, and not worrying about you. It’s impossible. You’d bring attention to us and I’d be worrying the whole night about your safety. I feel responsible for you.” He explains coolly even though his stomach twists at the idea of anything happening to you.
You snort and shake your head. “I’ve completed all the training.” You remind Dave. “I would be fine. And I’m not some overly sexy supermodel that would turn heads. But four men by themselves at this party would be unusual, having a woman in the mix would help.” You shake your head and turn back to packing up your equipment. “Nevermind. Be safe, have a good mission and see you next year.”
Dave frowns, not wanting you to be angry at him before the op. “You can come.” He announces before you leave the room. He knows this is what leads to you doing stuff behind his back. Talking to other agencies or teams to be out in the field and he’d rather have you with him so he can protect you.
You freeze, astonished that he had agreed to let you go. Turning and staring at him for a second. “What?” You demand and he rolls his eyes. “You can come on the op.” He repeats. “Dress nice.” He sighs. “It is New Year’s Eve after all.”
You nod, excited to prove yourself, and Dave sees your eyes light up. Fuck, that makes his stomach twist with desire. You’re too fucking beautiful. “I’ll pick you up at nine.” He says and you nod, eager to head home and start getting ready. Dave sighs when you practically skip out of the room. “Fuck.” He murmurs and rubs his cheek, unsure of how he’s going to keep you safe tonight. 
****
Dave knows he can’t just honk the horn for you to get in his car so he parks on your driveway and walks to the front door, ringing the doorbell before he adjusts his cufflinks while he waits for you.
Checking the mirror one last time to make sure that the knife you had strapped to your upper thigh isn’t visible, you try to ignore how much effort you had put into your appearance. Dave is a married man, you shouldn’t want him. He has a wife and two beautiful little girls, so the primping and the lipstick and push up bra you are wearing that match the lace panties under your dress are purely for yourself. That's the lie you tell yourself, anyway. Satisfied, you open the door to find Dave looking positively wicked in a black tuxedo that makes your cunt clench and your body tighten in need. “Hi.” You murmur breathlessly. “Let me get my bag.” You tell him, trying not to imagine this as a real New Year’s Eve date. 
Dave’s eyes drift down to your ass, a soft groan escaping his lips as he admires the dress you’re wearing. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows he can’t touch you. Not because he’s married. He’s divorced. Carol is the one who wanted it. Said she couldn’t handle him going off for days without contact with no explanation and he couldn’t explain it so she said they’re over. He was sad, mainly to lose the girls full time, but he sees them every weekend. He didn’t tell anyone at work, wanting the cover of marriage to get out of BS after work drinks and boring shit he doesn’t want to be involved in. You come back with your purse and he steps aside, letting you lock up your place before he escorts you to his car.
You try not to shiver when he puts his hand on your lower back. Bare skin because of the strategic cutout that you think looks amazing. His hand is warm and you can feel the calluses. It will be something you think about tonight when you are in bed alone with your vibrator between your thighs. “Carol isn’t too disappointed you have to work, is she?” You ask, mainly to remind yourself this man is taken so you don’t spin around and throw yourself at him.
Dave shakes his head before he opens the door, “she’s busy tonight and the girls have a babysitter.” He knows Carol has been seeing some guy at her gym. He’s already vetted him and doesn’t give a fuck that she’s already fucking someone else. He just doesn’t want the asshole around his kids if he’s dangerous. Either agency or civilian. Dave opens the door and you frown at his answer as you slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and rounds the car, getting into the driver's side.
“The guys are already there?” It seems now like they are going with your original plan that you had lined out. The team is already in place and you and Dave will arrive separate.
Dave pulls up at the hotel, reluctant to use the valet but he has no choice. There's no self parking and that would make him stick out even more. The valet takes his key and Dave tucks the card into his pocket before he rounds the car to help you out, offering you his hand.
“They are already in place.” Dave taps the comm he has in his ear that he turned off when he picked you up. 
You slide your hand into his, looking up at him with an adoring gaze since the extra valets are watching. It’s not an act, but you can finally not hide how you feel about him, even if he will just think you are one hell of an actress.
Dave hates how you look at him. Like he’s hung the moon and the stars. He’s not an idiot. He knows you have a crush on him and that’s what makes this so difficult. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Yet he knows he’d destroy you. He escorts you into the hotel, following the signs to the ballroom where the event is being held and he squeezes your hand when you enter, “you want a drink, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing he will have a Coke but you can have a glass of champagne.
“I’ll stick with seltzer water.” You murmur softly. “It isn’t professional to get drunk on an op.” You know that sometimes you have to drink but a club soda will look like a drink in your hand. That will do.
Dave nods, impressed by your dedication. Most would’ve failed by now and already been grabbing a glass of champagne. He guides you over to the bar, his hand shifting to your back, and he gestures for the bartender to come over. “Coke and a Club soda.” He orders and the bartender walks off. “So…you see our person?” He asks, leaning in closer.
Instead of scanning the room like a novice would, you glance in the large mirror that is above the bar and gives an excellent view of the large ballroom. “Two o’clock.” You murmur softly, leaning in and looking like you are whispering something loving in his ear. “Grey suit with a maroon shirt and black tie.”
Dave glances in the mirror to the target, his hand rubbing your back as he leans closer and murmurs, "good eye, sweetheart. It's early. We need to wait until he has had a few more drinks before we strike. We need people to be drunk to believe that he fell off a balcony." He whispers, his lips brushing your ear.
You can’t help the soft sound you make, but you don’t think he hears it. It’s loud in the ballroom. The bartender slides your drinks in front of you and you take your club soda with a flirtatious smile. “Thank you.” You hum before you press closer to Dave. “Shall we mingle?” You coo.
Dave nods, his hand caressing your bare skin on your back as he throws some cash down for the drinks and he escorts you into the crowd. You are a natural and he hates how easy it is for you to excel at being in the field. He desperately wants to keep you safe but he’s being selfish wanting that.
Making sure to keep your expression almost bored, you glance around the ballroom. Taking note of the exits and the security that is placed around the room. “Oh darling, look.” You seem excited as you point towards the dance floor. “Cameras are pointed away from the balcony.” You murmur softly. “Dancing.” You say louder. “We should dance.”
Dave knows he should keep you at arms distance…literally…but he’s finding it hard to keep away from you. He takes your hand, escorting you to the dance floor where several other couples are and he pulls you close as the band plays a slow song.
You hum softly to the music as Dave pulls you close. The scent of his spicy cologne filling your senses and making you swoon slightly at the way he holds you. It’s possessive, even though it’s just for show. “A new year, new beginnings.” You murmur softly.
Dave allows himself a moment to pull you close. Your perfume hits his senses and he hisses under his teeth at the flowery scent. "Everything okay?" You ask and he nods, offering you a soft smile, "yeah. All good." He promises, rubbing your back and he squeezes your hand, spinning you around.
You laugh softly, not expecting the move but loving how he guides you around the dance floor. For a moment, he smiles and you can pretend he wants to dance with you and it’s not just a cover. A fairytale moment that has your heart pounding and you smile as you come back into his arms. “Mr. Stephens.” You use the fake name he had gotten the invitation under. “You are too smooth, sir.” You flirt. “Keep that up and you will find a girl breathless over here.”
He wishes his real name had fallen from your lips but you are doing a good job of keeping cover. He feels like he could fail at any moment when he has you looking into his eyes like that. “That’s my plan.” He flirts back, “keep you breathless all night long until you let me keep you.” He says, his words true but his tone is playful and flirty…an act that he is finding too comfortable.
You swallow slightly, hoping he doesn’t notice but you’re sure he will. Dave doesn’t miss anything. “Keeping me would never be the problem.” You try to keep your own tone light and flirty, but it comes out seductive.
Fuck, he wants to keep you. He really does. He murmurs your name, pulling you closer to conceal it, and your sigh puffs against his neck. It’s clear that he could take you as his own but he’s not selfish enough to do that. “Can you see him?” He asks, voice rough with some unknown emotion.
“Yes.” Your own voice sounds wrecked, like you are barely holding onto your sanity but your eyes swing over to the target. “He’s alone.” You murmur. “Drunk.”
“Good.” Dave murmurs, “we will leave him for another ten minutes and then the plan can go into action.” He taps his ear, acting like he’s scratching. “Ten minutes.” He says to the team before he mutes himself again and the song comes to an end. “Let’s make some small talk, make our way over to him.”
“Of course.” You let him lead you off the dance floor, his arm around your waist as you head towards a group of people. At these functions, no one knows everyone, not even the host, so it’s not unusual to introduce yourself.
Dave guides you over to a group, wanting people to see him and know him by a different name. “Great party, right?” One of the guys asks and Dave hums, a smile on his face, “perfect way to see in the new year. Doesn’t hurt that I get to see my girl all dressed up.” He winks at you and squeezes your waist.
You fluster prettily and slap his chest with one hand. “He flatters me.” You hum. “It’s nice, even though he knows he’s guaranteed to ring in the New Year with sex.”
Dave chuckles and leans in to softly kiss your hair, “I gotta treat her good. Kiss her real good when the clock strikes midnight.” He winks and the group chuckle, “you’re a lucky bastard.” One man chuckles. “So…how do you know Peter?” A woman asks, naturally nosey if Dave’s instincts are correct, inquiring about how you know the host of the party.
You have done extensive background checks on Peter Malwick, the person responsible for the party. You smile and turn towards Dave, curling into his side. “Our daughter, Mila, attends St. John’s with Stacy.” You play with the lapel of Dave’s jacket. “Sometimes the men go golfing together while we do the monthly charity bake sales.”
Dave caresses your back, a smirk on his face, “I got a birdie last time we went out and then I got to come home and sample one of my wife’s cupcakes. She’s a dream baker.” He leans in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek and the women in the group coo while the men appraise you. Dave has played this game many times but never with a partner and he finds it’s easier to play the crowd with someone else.
You hum, eyes slipping closed like this is a game you and Dave constantly play. It’s easy to act like you are in love with him. “That was a good day.” You giggle, like you are talking about more than golf or cupcakes. The woman who had asked about the two of you seems positively convinced and you turn your head to drop a kiss right at the edge of Dave’s mouth. “How about you?” You ask. “How do you know Pete?”
The woman goes to speak but her husband cuts her off with a look and he says “oh we are in the same business. He’s a close associate of mine.” He says vaguely and Dave hums, “he’s a very successful man.” The husband nods and pulls his wife close, squeezing her arm in warning.
You notice the move but you don’t say anything, smiling at the couple like nothing is amiss. “Sweetheart, I think I need another drink.” You shake your empty glass for effect. “Shall we go get another?” You look over at the woman with a shrug. “Vodka sodas are the drinks that have the least calories here.” You tell her.
She giggles and winks, “perfect.” Dave escorts you back to the bar and he orders you another club soda. “The stage is set. Just gotta wait for the right moment.” He murmurs, rubbing your back as he watches in the mirror.
“Yes, we do.” You murmur softly, looking over at him in complete adoration and lean into his touch. “It will come soon enough.” Your eyes watch as your target stumbles, spilling his drink. “Very soon.”
Dave hums, leaning closer to nudge his nose against your ear. “We will be here until midnight until we are able to take him out. We need to get him outside on the balcony when everyone is distracted.”
“Ringing in the new year.” You hum, smirking slightly. “Sounds like something I’m going to think about later.” You will go back to your house and spend the rest of the evening thinking about Dave inside you. How you wish you had spent New Year’s.
Dave hums, taking a sip of his drink after it’s set down on the bar. He leans closer to you, his free hand on your lower back as he watches your expression in the mirror. You look a little flustered and he wonders if it’s the op or his proximity. Deciding to test you, he leans closer to run his nose along your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume.
Your cover slips, or perhaps you just lean into it. After all, you are supposed to be posing as his wife. Your breath hitches slightly and you want to turn your head to kiss him. You want to so badly your lips tingle, but you remind yourself that this is just an act. A farce to sell the fact that you are supposed to be here. “Dave.” You murmur breathlessly. 
He knows what you want right now and he can’t give it to you. If he kisses you, he won’t want to stop and he can’t put you in danger. He leans closer, his lips almost brushing your jaw and he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “It’s almost midnight.” He murmurs, breath washing over your cheek, “and then we will get our target.”
You snap back to your senses and rock back an inch away from him. “Roger.” You murmur, swallowing harshly and turning your head back towards the mirror to keep an eye on the target while your stomach twists in disappointment. Ashamed of yourself for being upset that Dave kissed your cheek instead of your lips. You have to get away from him. The interview you had last week replays in your mind and you rethink your plan. Right now you just need to accomplish this mission.
Dave hums as he takes another sip of his drink, the clock ticking down and soon the band is announcing the countdown is coming up. “We will countdown, make sure everyone sees us and then we will follow him outside. The guys have already made sure he’s outside, smoking a cigar, so we can do this quickly.” He murmurs again.
“You’re the boss.” You remind him and yourself as you straighten up and reach for the drink that has been refreshed. You wish it did have vodka in it right now as you take a sip, but you know that drinking could jeopardize the mission as well as your sanity. The last thing you need is to beg Dave to fuck you in the bathroom or something. There is a room that has been rented under your alias names to complete the cover as a couple enjoying the New Year’s party, but you have no intention of actually using it. 
Dave can feel how tense you are but right now, he has your safety in mind, and that means he’s solely focused on the op. When the countdown is about to start, he takes your hand and guides you towards the balcony, stopping on the edge of the dance floor as the countdown starts. To anyone watching, you’re a couple cheering in the new year, and so that’s what Dave plays. “Three…two…one!” The cheers are loud but Dave surges forward to press his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek.
He’s kissing you. You melt into the kiss for a moment. Giving in to the need swirling in your stomach and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Letting him in when his tongue slides against your lips to demand entrance. Giving him every part of you while the confetti and streamers fall all around you and everyone starts to sing ’Auld Lang Syne’. 
He knows he shouldn’t kiss you like this but he indulges himself this one time. He pulls you close, pecking your lips as he tears himself away from you, knowing that he needs to complete this op. He takes your hand while everyone is cheering, escorting you to the balcony. Anyone watching would think he wants more than a kiss right now with the way his eyes darken but he’s shifting his focus as he opens the balcony door for you.
You try to control your breathing, snapping back into your operational mindset. The mission is the most important thing and you see the target leaning against the railing, a ring of smoke blowing up into the air from the cigar in his hand. There’s only a few moments to be had before revelers will spill out on the balcony and you need to take advantage of it. You feel Dave’s hand squeeze yours and you give him a small squeeze back. You’re ready. 
The target has already been drugged by Resnik who slipped by the target when he got his drink. He should be disoriented and that’s exactly what you find when you and Dave step out into the balcony. No one else is out there so Dave grabs you, dragging you closer to press his lips to yours as he walks backwards towards the target.
You know what Dave is doing, your eyes open and you’re surprised that he is letting you guide him towards the target. “Shit!” The target drops his cigar over the edge and bends down far over the edge for some reason even though it is falling down to the ground five stories below you. “Now.” You murmur against his lips, the perfect opportunity being created for you. 
He wastes no time spinning around and he slams into the target making him cry out as he goes head first over the balcony railing and a few moments later you hear the bang of his body hitting the concrete. Dave pulls away from you, shifting to look over the edge and he sees the twisted body of the target, blood starting to pour from his body.
“We should move.” You murmur, knowing that the team needs to disperse. None of you need to be around when the body is discovered. Resnik lifts his brows at you, surprised by the kiss the two of you shared but you don’t say anything else and he disappears into the shadows of the balcony.
Dave knows Resnik will handle the rest of the op so Dave takes your hand, “let’s go to the room. We need to have more witnesses that see us go to the room. To sell the story.” He murmurs, unsure if he really thinks it’s needed. If he was alone, he’d be gone already but right now, the kisses have muddled his mind and he needs a moment to reconvene…the room will give him that.
You don’t question him, but you giggle as soon as you enter the ballroom, starting to put on a show for anyone who might be looking. “Take me to bed, baby.” You coo, curling around him and sliding your hand up his chest. “I want to spend the rest of the night with you inside me.” 
Dave wants to indulge in those words, take you to bed and show you how good it can be, but he knows he can’t do that. He’d be risking you, making you his in a way that he’d never be able to forget, and he can’t cross the line but right now, he has to act like he is. “Come on baby. Wanna get you naked to celebrate the new year,”
Anyone who watches you would just see a couple eager to get back to their hotel room. Your steps swiftly carry you away from the ballroom and you are on the elevator before the first screams are heard when someone spots the broken body of the man  you had been contracted to kill. On the elevator, you know the cameras inside will be recording you, so you pull Dave close and wrap your arm around his neck to drag his lips down to yours for a kiss. Continuing your cover as the eager partygoers. 
Dave groans, pushing you up against the wall of the car without care. He knows this is for show and when you are in the room, he will ensure you are okay and he will wait until the appropriate time to sneak out with you. Resnik has orders to cut cameras on his order so you can sneak out. For now though, he slides his tongue into your mouth and grips your waist.
You let yourself get lost in the kiss, knowing that this will be the last time, the only time you get to have him like that. You grind against his hard body and feel him respond. Thrilled that even if he can’t have you, he wants you. Even if it is just physically. You tell yourself it’s for the camera but it’s a lie as you slide your hand down between you and squeeze his cock through his tuxedo trousers.
Dave hisses at your touch, knowing he shouldn’t allow you to do this but it feeds the dirty thoughts he has had about you all night. He’s imagined taking you somewhere, making you moan his name. His hand slides down to squeeze your ass, giving you a taste of your own medicine, and he chuckles when you whimper against his mouth as the doors open. “Come on.” He demands, voice raspy with desire as he takes your hand to drag you down the hall.
You feel like you are on fire, but you know that you can’t take it farther. When you get to the room, you will both revert back to your normal professional relationship, the acting will be over. Dave holds onto your hand even as he pulls out the key card and opens the door. He pushes you inside and you hear the door click behind you as you try to catch your breath.
Dave hears your panting and he snaps. He can't help himself. He spins around and grabs you, pushing you up against the door of the hotel room. His nose presses against yours, his eyes open as he stares at you, "tell me to stop." He demands, needing you to order him to stop when all he wants is to strip you down and do what he's imagined more times than he cares to admit.
Your gasp is breathless and eyes wide when he presses you against the door. His own eyes are dark and you can see the lust swimming in their depth, making your core burn and you can’t deny him. “Don’t stop.” You whisper, wanting him despite knowing that it’s wrong. You just want one night with him, then you will somehow figure out how to live with the shame. 
The permission makes him groan, his lips pressing urgently against yours again. His hands desperate as they grab you, already working on finding the zipper of your dress. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t touch you. Yet he can’t stop. His heart pounds, all composure thrown aside and he pulls the zipper down.
As soon as his hands start to strip you, your own become frantic. Pushing the tailored jacket of his tux over his broad shoulders and starting tugging on his bowtie. Impressed and frustrated by the fact that it’s real and not just a clip on. You want him naked, you need to feel his skin under your hands. Nearly ripping the buttons of his dress shirt. Your comms is pulled out of your ear and tossed aside, you don’t want the team to hear you. “Dave.” You moan when he finally pulls away to peel his shirt and jacket off while your dress falls to the floor. Leaving you standing in your heels, bra and panties with the knife strapped to your thigh. 
Dave trails his eyes along your form, loving how gorgeous you look in the matching set and he knows you well enough to know that you picked that out with him in mind. He smirks, licking his lips and taking in your figure. You fluster and he chuckles, toeing off his shoes to leave them by the door. “Go lay down on the bed, sweetheart.” He orders, “keep the heels on.” He says as he works on his pants.
You shiver slightly, obeying him and forgetting everything but how much you want this man. You watch as you lay back on the bed, propped up on your elbows as he strips out of his pants and leaves himself in his boxer briefs. You lick your lips and shake your head. “All of it.” You demand, wanting to see him. 
He nods, watching you as he pushes his boxers down. His cock is hard, leaking pre-cum as it bounces when he kicks his pants away. You moan and he smirks, reaching down to squeeze his cock. “You want this.” He states, knowing he doesn’t have a doubt of that. “Tell me what you’ve thought about with your fingers inside that pretty pussy.” He orders, pumping himself.
Your eyes are greedy as they roam over his body, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so sexy, even more so with his cock in his hand as he strokes himself. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you clench around nothing. “You.” You admit shamelessly. “Fuck me. Over the desk in your office. In the gym showers. Sucking your cock when you come in from an op.” 
Dave chuckles, knowing that your thoughts have been filthy and hearing them spoken into the air has him twitching in his hand. “Take your panties off. And the bra. Wanna see all of you. Keep the heels on.” He demands again, his dark eyes trailing along your form.
You sit up to reach behind you so that you unclip your bra. Tossing it aside after sliding the straps down your arms. You lay back down and lift your hips, shoving the lace down and using the heel of your left shoe to hook the panties on and fling them off. You aren’t shy, spreading your legs for him to get a perfect view of your wet cunt. 
Dave groans, eying your bare cunt. It's obvious you wax and he fucking loves that. He steps closer, looming over you, and he moves so fast your gasp echoes when he surges forward to bury his face in your cunt.
You are completely surprised by the face that Dave is eating you out, you hadn’t expected it. You had expected him to want you to suck his cock. His tongue burns a path through your folds as you tangle your fingers through his short hair and you grind your hips down against his face. “Dave.” You moan, eyes closed as you shudder. 
Your moan has him squeezing his cock in his fist as he tastes the tang of your arousal. Fuck, you taste sweet and sour. He loves it. He groans into your flesh, lapping at it as you moan his name again.
He’s not trying to rush you towards an orgasm, or just get you wet enough to fuck. He’s tearing you apart with his tongue. Each stroke is designed to make your stomach clench and your toes curl as he licks into your aching core. You are already so turned on that every flick of his tongue makes your body jolt, so close to coming apart. “Fuck - I- I’m so close.” You pant out. 
Dave can’t believe how worked up you are and he loves it. He groans into your flesh, sucking your clit between his lips, and he desperately wants to hear you fall apart. He wants to taste you. He doubles down, sucking harder on your clit to push you over the edge.
Your thighs shake and with one more suck on your clit, you are screaming out his name for everyone on your floor to hear. Core twisting and flooding in pleasure, cunt gushing as you buck up against his mouth. 
Dave groans, lapping at your cum to work you through it. Your thighs squeezing his head and he loves it. He laps at you until you push his head away. He smirks, his chin shiny with your slick, and he squeezes his cock as he shifts to kneel on the foot of the bed.
“Fuck me.” You beg softly, needing to feel him inside you. You spread your legs enticingly and all of the reasons that you should push him away are forgotten with the dark look in his eyes. He wants you just as badly as you want him. “Dave, fuck me.” 
He can’t deny you when you beg so sweetly. He hisses and shifts to kneel between your thighs, gripping his cock. He pushes into you, walls fluttering to adjust to him and he loves the way your jaw drops. “You’re gonna take every fucking inch and every fucking drop I give you.” He demands, jaw clenched as he looms over you.
You mewl in pleasure as he notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance and starts to push into you. Mouth dropping open as he stretches you out, your hands slide up to his arms, nails digging into his biceps from how good it feels. It’s perfect, he’s perfect inside you, filling up all the emptiness and giving you so much pleasure from the slow and steady roll of his hips. 
He hisses at how your cunt grips him like a vice. It makes his eyes squeeze shut until he opens them, remembering that he wants to watch you take him. He groans your name as he starts to move faster, your tits bouncing with each rock of his hips. “Take it.” He demands, his hands gripping your hips.
You do take it, all you can do is take it. Moaning, you hold onto his shoulders and start to lift your hips up when he thrusts down into you. Wanting this to be more than just a passive experience. You want to move with him. To give back to him. Your walls clench around him when he twitches inside you and you smirk when he groans your name. 
He knows he should’ve stayed away from you but right now, all he can do is fuck you hard and fast. The sounds in the room are your moans and the slap of skin as he fucks into your tight cunt.
It’s everything you expected, everything you wanted from fucking Dave. It’s harsh and passionate, wonderfully rough. You kiss along his jaw and drag your nails down his back, down to grip his ass to feel as he pumps into you. “More.” you beg, “I want more.” 
He leans down to press his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. His fingers bruising until they slide up to squeeze your breast. “Feel so good, baby. Always knew you would.”
You moan, thrilled that he had thought about this. That he had imagined fucking you. It’s wrong on so many levels, but you can’t care when he’s hammering into you like he’s going to fuck you to death.
Dave loves how you take everything he gives. Your moans vibrate against his lips and he adjusts his hips, wanting to make you fall apart for him. He needs to feel your walls clamp down on him.
His hips snap forward again and again, the coarse hair surrounding his cock rubbing your clit and the next thrust pushes you over the edge. Your legs tighten and your back bows up, head pushing back into the plush pillow as you cry out. “Dave!”
His eyes roll into the back of his head when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him, and your cry of his name echoes in the room. “Fuck.” He growls, working you through it. When you stop shaking beneath him, he pulls out of you and you whine. He wastes no time flipping you over, smacking your ass, “hands and knees, baby.”
Your face is pressed to the sheets but you don’t care. Gathering your knees under you to present your pussy and ass to Dave behind you. You want to feel him again and you whine. “Fuck me.” You beg breathlessly, hating how empty you feel.
Dave chuckles, caressing your ass, and he smacks it as you arch your back. He wastes no time squeezing his wet cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls when he sinks into you again.
You moan in pleasure, unable to articulate how good he feels. He feels incredible inside you. His cock scrubs against your walls and pushes against something incredible inside you from this angle.
Dave caresses your spine until he smacks your ass with his palm. He starts to move inside you, “fuck baby. You feel so good. Is this what you thought about? Imagined when you rubbed that little clit?”
“Yes.” You gasp out, the sound almost garbled as you moan right afterwards. He’s thick and heavy inside you, pushing just right to make your thighs shake up under you.
Sweat beads on his forehead as he fucks you harder, desperate to hear your cries of pleasure, and he chuckles when you whine, tits swaying with each thrust. “Fuck. Need you to cum again for me.” Dave demands, knowing you’ll be torn apart by him and that’s what he wants.
You don’t know how you’re supposed to cum when you’ve already had one orgasm. Usually you don’t have more than one, but he is determined. Grunting and panting behind you as he rocks into you. Making you whimper and whine as your body starts to tense up again.
Dave grunts, pushing into you harder and faster when he feels your walls fluttering. You’re close. He can feel it. “That’s it baby. That’s it.” He growls when you clamp down on his cock like he wanted. “Such a good fucking girl.” He hisses and pushes into you. He’s so fucking close. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he thrusts a half dozen more times and falls apart with a growl of your name, painting your walls with his cum.
The heat floods your core and you moan. Loving every throbbing pulse as he fills you up. It’s perfect and you close your eyes, panting softly. Boneless and limp from the pleasure
You collapse forward into the crumbled sheets and Dave smirks at how wrecked you look. You look like you need the night to recover and he chuckles, playfully smacking your ass before he leans down to kiss your shoulder as he slowly pulls out of you. “Fucking perfect.” He grunts as he shifts to flop down beside you.
Your head is pleasantly buzzing and you feel drunk even though you didn’t consume one drop of alcohol. “Happy New Year.” You murmur softly. “I could sleep for a week now.” You hum, giggling slightly. “Think they would let me keep the room?”
Dave chuckles, shifting to fold his arms behind his head, “maybe.” He is pleased that you are satisfied. He certainly is. “We will clean up and then we will get out of here.”
“Go home.” It’s like a bucket of cold water has been splashed on you. Dave is married. You had purposefully ignored that, or tried to, while he was buried deep since you, but now you can’t hide from it. “You better stop and pick your girls and wife up something nice since you’re away tonight.” You sit up and start to climb off the bed, standing on shaky legs.
Dave watches you stand up and he frowns. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you the truth but he can’t. He sits up, his stomach swirling with guilt and he shifts off the bed, reaching for his pants. He cannot put you in danger by keeping you and you wouldn’t want him. This was a one time thing. “Yeah.” He murmurs, “something nice.”
You make your way to the bathroom, needing to wash away your sin, but you can’t, it’s buried under your skin. Guilt nearly makes you retch, unable to look at yourself in the mirror as you start the shower.
Dave redresses, keeping his bow tie untied around his neck, and he shrugs on his jacket. He sits on the edge of the crumbled bed, wringing his hands together. He wants you to be his but his life…it’s too dangerous. He can’t allow you to come into this life.
You shower, scrubbing yourself from head to toe and the water is scalding hot. You won’t cry, you can’t - not right now. Not when he has given you exactly what you wanted. You just have to live with the guilt if it now. Getting out, you wrap a towel around your body, your face washed clean of all makeup.
Dave knows he should stay. He just fucked you. He wants to stay but he can’t. He leaves a note, hand steady as he tells you to spend the night. He will act like you’ve had an argument. After setting the note on the pillow, he grabs his comm and leaves the room with a soft click of the door that you won’t hear. He hopes you will quit and go find a safer job. A husband. A family. Live a normal life. He can never have that.
It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself, knowing that Dave has sharp eyes and an even sharper instinct. He will know if you have any kind of hesitation that something is wrong. When you open the door, you find that the entire point is moot, the room is empty. Your heart twists when you see the note on the bed and you don’t even reach for it. You know what it says. It says that this was a mistake. You swallow harshly and move over to your clutch, your encrypted phone inside. You pull it out and dial a number. Ringing once, it clicks - answered but not one greets you. “I accept.” You say calmly, sure now that you are making the right decision.
**** 
*One year later* 
“So any new year plans?” Dave is asked by the new techie and he sighs, “only a job. Good night to take out a target.” He smirks and the tech chuckles, “damn right. Too many distractions.” He says and Dave nods, his mind taken back to last year when he went on an op with you. His chest tightens and he sighs, “I’ll be ready. Just give me the details.” He says and stands up, leaving the conference room as his mind wanders. He has to focus. 
**** 
The party is in full swing when he arrives, dressed in a jacket and tie, this party isn’t as formal as last year and he knows his target will be trying to win over the donors. He’s a politician. One that fucked off the wrong people and now he needs to be involved in an accident on New Year’s Eve. Dave glances around the room, people laughing and dancing, and it’s eerily reminiscent of the night he spent with you. He hadn’t heard from you after he received your resignation in his email and he wanted to track you down but it was like you’d disappeared. He was worried but he figured you didn’t want to be found. You know how to do it and he respected that, knowing he was in no position to convince you to come back to the team. Right now, he wonders where you are. Do you have a boyfriend? A partner? Are you safe? happy? He hopes you are.
Watching the room, you sip your soda water, eyes roaming over the crowd. Your target is laughing in the middle of a group of people, the congressman fawning over the wealth and power of those grimacing slightly as he continues to run his mouth. You smirk slightly, rolling your eyes at the pretentious ass until you catch the sight of a ghost from your past. Freezing as he moves through the crowd, not spotting you, but he’s also not looking for you either. Dave. He must have been contacted for the politician too but you’ll be damned if you’ll let him take him down.
Dave snakes his way through the crowd, making his way toward the congressman and he remembers how much easier this was last year with you by his side. He has to make small talk when he’s alone. His drink is nearly empty and he smiles at people as he walks past them towards the group fawning over the congressman. He turns his head towards the bar, wondering if he should get another drink and wait for the crowd around the politician to disperse. That’s when he sees you standing there. He murmurs your name, his brow furrowing and he quickly makes his way to the bar.
You see Dave start heading towards the bar, towards you. Sighing softly, you know that he will probably approach you. Wanting to know what you are doing here. “Standby.” You murmur into your comms and click it off so your team can’t hear you, although you know they all have eyes on you. You are the lead after all.
Dave approaches you, gesturing for the bartender, and he doesn’t let the shock show on his face. He’s trained for this. For personal entanglements. “Never imagined I’d see you here. You got a boyfriend who works for Congress or something?” He asks softly, raising his eyebrows.
“Or something.” You arch a brow at him, picking up your soda and shake the ice in it. “What are you having, Dave?” You ask. “I should say I’m surprised to see you here, but I know the guest list and I’m not.”
He turns to the bartender who appears and he clears his throat, “Coke.” He orders and he glances down at your glass when the bartender walks off. “You- what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, confused and frankly pissed that you seem to be putting yourself in a dangerous situation. The congressman is involved with the fucking mafia.
Your eyes flicker over to him before you glance back at the mirror above the bar. It always plays into your favor when venues copy each other on design. “Same thing I assume you are doing here, Dave.” You hum, glancing back at him for a brief moment. “So don’t get in my or my team’s way.”
His frown deepens and he shakes his head, “you’re here in a fucking - you aren’t here for tech?” He asks and you smirk, turning to look at him. “I outgrew tech and another company saw my potential.” Your smirk pisses him off when combined with the fact that you are putting yourself at risk doing this job. “No. No. You aren’t - this is my target.” He growls into your ear.
You sense more than see your team start to move in. Reaching up and tapping your comms. “Stand down.” You murmur quietly. “He’s not going to hurt me.” Dave glances in the mirror, seeing three different men in suits stop from various positions around the room. You tap off the comms again and twist to look at your former boss and one time lover. “Seems like they wanted to make sure the poor congressman got exactly what he deserves.”
Dave clenches his jaw, pulling back from you and he watches the men retreat. “I can’t fucking believe this. I tried to protect you and you’ve gone into the lion’s den.” He hisses and shakes his head, “you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I’ve been running ops for nearly a year, Dave.” You snort. “I think I’m well aware of the dangers of this life.” You see the bartender bringing his Coke over. “Well, this was fun, but let’s not do it again.” You hum as you push off the bar to turn and sashay towards the group of people the congressman was talking to. If you put an extra sway in your step, it was purely coincidental.
Dave watches you go, his dark eyes flicking down to your ass and the memory of slapping it when he was inside you hits him. He swallows a large gulp of Coke and his comm hisses. “holy shit. Was that - goddamn she’s an operator.” Resnik’s voice crackles in his ear and he growls, reaching up to turn off the comm. Leaning against the bar, he watches you flirt with the target and he grinds his teeth, watching in annoyance.
You are aware of the other team now that you know Dave is here. Their formation is typical of their team and you watch them as you laugh at the wildly unfunny joke the congressman makes, offering him a toothy smile and no one notices that the compartment of your ring opens to dump the poison in his drink when you grab his forearm and lean into him to give him a great view of your tits.
Dave notices the move. Shaking his head when he realizes the target has been taken out by you in a move that only a woman could accomplish. Dave huffs and strides over, making his move as he walks past the congressman and bumps his shoulder. “Shit!” The politician yelps as his drink falls to the floor, spilling on his shoes, and Dave smirks over his shoulder as he walks away.
“Asshole!” You call out, furious that Dave has ruined your chance. You have to back away from the target or it will be too suspicious. “Damn.” You hiss, wiping away an imaginary stain. “I better go try to get this out.” You don’t say anything else before you are turning and rushing off towards the bathroom.
Dave feels smug as you rush towards the bathroom and he follows you, stepping into the ladies room when it’s empty for everyone except you. He locks the door behind him and steps closer as you reapply your lipstick. “Poison. I thought you’d be more dramatic.”
“No need when he has an underlying heart condition.” You glance back at him for a moment before looking back at your reflection to meticulously coat your lips. “Less risk when they believe he has a heart attack. The poison doesn’t show up on a toxicology report.”
Dave hums, “true but it’s a little safe. I figured you’d be the kind of assassin that wants a little flair. You are sensible but this is your time to show off. Poison…it’s a little boring.” He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes dipping down to your lips. “I’ve missed you.” He confesses softly.
“You missed me so much you left after fucking me?” You ask, pressing your lips together and turning towards him. You had tried not to let his goading get to you, knowing his vanity and reputation was important to him, but you prefer to fly under the radar and have a solid record of kills.
Dave clicks his tongue, tilting his head, “I had to. I couldn’t - well, it’s a moot fucking point now, but I tried to stay away from you to keep you out of danger. I didn’t want you involved in this way. You could get hurt…or killed. I didn’t want to be the reason you got killed.” He confesses, “so I left before I got in too deep.”
You snort softly. “Whatever, it was for the best, considering that you are married.” You arch a brow. “Carol isn’t going to be pissed that you are ignoring her two New Year’s in a row?”
Dave chuckles, realizing why you are so angry at him. He leans closer and gently brushes his fingers over your shoulder. “I’m divorced. Have been for 2 years.” He reveals with a smirk when he looks at you in the mirror.
Your eyes widen slightly before you school your expression. “Liar.” You hiss, turning away from him. Brushing past him to open the door and Dave grabs your arm, making you yank away from him. Pissed off that he would mock you about this. 
He holds his hands up, “shoot me right here if you think I’m lying but you know me. I didn’t fuck you as a married man. I wouldn’t do that. I might kill for a living but I have some morals.” He says and you scoff, shaking your head. “I still think about that night.” He confesses softly, “a lot.”
Frowning, you watch him closely. He is a liar but you know that he’s not lying about this. His eyes are warm and honest, revealing. “I do too.” You admit. “I felt so fucking guilty because I wanted to do it again. That’s why I resigned.”
“I left you in that room because I was trying to protect you. I’m not a good man. I’ve done bad things and I- I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m divorced. I see my girls every week but Carol has already moved on. I haven’t moved on…from you. I don’t think I ever will.” He admits, “but I’ll walk away right now. You can have the target. I’ll leave and you won’t see me again…if you tell me that you don’t feel the same. That you don’t love me like I love you.”
“You should have trusted me to make my own decision.” You huff. “I know what you do, what I do.” You shake your head. “That shit didn’t matter to me. Just like being showy with my kills doesn’t matter.” You pause and bite your lip. “I’m blown with the target. And I can’t say I don’t love you.”
Dave swallows, his expression neutral but you know by his eyes that he’s surprised. He steps closer, his hands coming up to touch your upper arms. “I love you. I want you. I don’t want to spend every damn day wondering where you are. I want you to come back to the team. Be my partner.”
“You don’t mean that.” You murmur softly and he huffs. “You know I do.” He argues. “Come back to me.” He asks again, stroking your skin. “I want you beside me.” You sway slightly, inhaling his cologne and you hate how he still affects you, even if you love it. “We still have to accomplish the mission.” You point out.
“We can take care of the congressman. You flirt with him, make him sneak off away from security and take him to a private space. We will handle him when he’s alone. Can you do that?” He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at you.
You scoff. “Dressed Iike this?” You reply, gesturing to your slinky dress. “I could get the man to follow me anywhere.”
Dave chuckles, trailing down your form, “you aren’t wrong there.” He winks and leans in to kiss your cheek, “it’s good to see you again, sweetheart.” He murmurs and pulls back, walking back towards the door to unlock it. “I’ll watch for your signal.” He says and slips out of the bathroom.
You take another moment, unsure of what to do but you trust Dave. He would never put your life in jeopardy. You adjust your tits in your dress and walk out of the bathroom with an air of confidence as you walk towards the congressman.
Dave makes his way through the crowd, his eyes watching you as you approach the congressman. You’re sexy, a small smirk on your lips as your hips sway and Dave swipes his thumb over his lower lip while he leans against the bar he approached.
Walking up the congressman, you practically purr as you wind your arm around his neck. “Miss me?” You pout playfully. “I had to go and make sure I was still pretty enough to get your attention.”
The congressman chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close. “I’m sure you could wear a trash bag and I’d like to see you.” The congressman flirts and you giggle, caressing his shoulder. Jealousy hits Dave but he pauses and reminds himself that you are on an op
“Yeah?” You continue to flirt and some of the group takes the opportunity to escape. Leaving just a few around the two of you. “What do you say that we find someplace quiet?” You hum, reaching up and tracing his lips. “Ring in the New Year in style.”
The congressman smirks, gesturing to his guards to leave you and him alone. The guards hesitate but nod and the congressman takes your hand, guiding you towards the private room in the back. Dave sees this and taps his fingers on the bar, slowly making his way through the crowd.
​​You pretend to be curious about the room. “Did you know this was here?” You ask, pulling away and admiring the sconces on the wall. Giving the teams time to draw in closer. “This is….private.” Turning towards him, you smirk suggestively and crook your finger. “Come here.”
The congressman smirks as he pulls you closer just as Dave opens the door. “Hey man, this is a private room.” The congressman argues and Dave reaches into his jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-” He cuts himself off as he pulls the gun from his hidden holster and aims it at the congressman in the head, his silencer on.
“What the fu-“ he doesn’t get a chance to finish the comment as you quickly pull away, making him startle and Dave pulls the trigger. The congressman’s head jerks back and his body holds itself up for a split second before he is crumpling back to the floor, dead. “Goddamnit.” You mutter, knowing you have to burn the dress now, just in case there is blood splatter. “I liked this fucking dress.”
Dave chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he works on holstering his gun. “You look better out of it. There’s a door back here that leads to the outside.” He says and takes your hand, stepping over the dead congressman to take your hand and he guides you to the secret door he saw on the plans.
You tap your comms and give the command for your team to disappear from the party and to head to the safe house. You will give them instructions later on, after you talk with Dave. “Where are we going?”
Dave guides you to the outside and smirks when you ask him, “gonna take you back to mine. It’s not the new year yet.” He reminds you, “we can have a drink and have our own countdown.”
“You gonna disappear this time?” You ask. Still annoyed that he hasn’t told you he had been divorced. You had felt horrible, disgusting, for a long time after that night.
Dave shakes his head, “no. Absolutely not. You’re staying in my bed.” He promises and you smirk, squeezing his hand. He knows he owes you more explanation and he definitely owes you an orgasm.
There is a car that is parked on a little alley next to the building and you know it’s Dave’s. He guides you to the passenger side and opens the door for you. Waiting until you are seated to close the door and round the front of the car to climb in beside you.
He pulls his comm out, tossing it into the tray holder after he opens the door and helps you into the car before he gets into the driver's side. He looks at you as he starts the engine, “should’ve taken you home before.”
“Like you haven’t taken anyone else home since you slept with me.” You wouldn’t blame him if he did. He was single and free to do whatever he wanted, with whomever.
Dave shakes his head, “I haven’t. I - I have been busy trying to prepare to leave the DIA and I - I had to track you down before I left. I have people after me. I’ve made enemies and I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Yes you have.” You won’t deny it, anyone that is in this business makes enemies. “But it’s better to have someone watching your back too, isn’t it?” You ask. “Dave- I’m a great operative.”
Dave nods, “you are. I shouldn’t have held you back.” He confesses, “I should’ve helped you and let you grow but I was selfish.” He confesses as he drives to his home.
Your brow lifts in surprise at how he is owning up to his mistakes. “New Year, new Dave.” You hum, watching the streets pass by and you wonder where he lives now. Unless he kept the house in the divorce, but you doubt that.
He chuckles, adjusting his fingers on the steering wheel as he makes his way to his apartment. There’s cameras all over the complex but he knows how to manipulate them and how to avoid them. “Just telling the truth. Something new I’m trying.” He confesses with a chuckle.
You hum and look up at the stylish, neat building. “Are you sure you want to bring me here, York?” You ask, aware that he is placing a lot of trust in you.
Dave nods, pulling into his parking space, “I want you here.” He promises and you offer him a soft smile. He winks and cuts the engine, getting out of the driver side to come round to open your door. “You want a drink now that you’re off duty?” He asks, tilting his head as he holds out his hand.
“Sure.” You take his hand and climb out of the car. “I think we’ve earned one. Although, I’m going to need to get rid of this dress.”
“If you want, you can shower and borrow one of my shirts and some boxers….sweats too. Whatever you’re most comfortable in.” He promises and you smile, “thanks.” He makes sure to avoid the cameras as he guides you to his place on the top floor, key pulled from his pocket and soon enough, you’re standing in his living room.
It’s masculine, dark tones and leathers, but it’s clean. Dave is practical and you love that there is the hint of his cologne filling the apartment. “Very nice.” He said his girls visit on the weekends, so of course he wants a place for them. “Very you.”
Dave chuckles and walks over to the door down the hall, “shower is through there. What do you want to drink? Gin and tonic? Vodka soda? Whiskey?” He tilts his head, realizing he doesn’t know what you like to drink.
“Whatever you are going to drink.” You aren’t particular and you look over your shoulder as you start down the hall. “Bring it to me.” You order with a smirk and reach back to unzip your dress.
Dave smirks as you sway your hips when you walk down the hall. Your dress falling down to your ankles and you expertly step out of it, making Dave chuckle. You are a minx. Different from the mousy secretary that he met years ago. He prepares two drums of whiskey and he carries them down the hall to the bathroom where the shower is running.
It had been an invitation and you are glad that he decided to take you up on it. The water is hot and the bathroom surprisingly spacious for an apartment. You watch through the glass as he comes into the room and open the door to take the glass he offers before you tap the edge of your rim to his. “Cheers.” You hum before you pull your hand back to take a sip. You hum at the smooth burn as it slides down your throat and you meet Dave’s eyes through the glass of the shower stall. “Strip.” You order, wanting him to join you, but you want to see him first. 
Dave doesn’t argue. He sets his whiskey down and slowly unbuttons his shirt, stripping off while you stand under the water. “You want me?” He asks, wanting to be sure.
Your eyes run over the revealed skin and you feel your nipples tighten. “I do.” You admit shamelessly. He’s not married, he loves you, you are free to want him as much as you do. “I want you to fuck me right here in this shower.”
Dave eyes you as the water runs over your body. You’re just as fucking gorgeous and his cock is already half hard as he pushes his pants down along with his briefs, kicking them across the bathroom floor and he picks up his glass of whiskey. He has a sip and sets it back down, stepping towards you to slip into the shower.
Your own whiskey is set down in the empty soap dish, turning towards him when he steps into the stall so you can drag him towards you for a kiss. Wanting to feel that intoxicating, consuming sensation you have been craving since the last time he touched you like this.
Dave doesn’t deny you as he leans forward to press his lips to yours, his hands immediately finding your waist. His tongue pushes into your mouth, sampling the whiskey from your tongue, and he groans, cock pressing into your stomach while his hands slide lower to squeeze your ass.
Even though it has been a year, even though you’ve been upset at him and yourself, all of that melts away when he kisses you. Moaning into his mouth as he turns and presses you against the wall, you are already dripping wet and needing him inside you. Reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock to pump him.
He thrusts into your grip, unable to help himself and he devours your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groans against your lips, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits. “Gonna fuck you, make you mine again.” He promises and you squeeze his cock, making him groan your name.
You smirk against his lips and groan when he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Dave.” You pant breathlessly. “Fuck me. Now. I - I need you inside me.” He’s hot and throbbing in your hand, making you drip with need.
He can’t deny you anything when you beg him so sweetly. He releases your tits and grabs your thigh, lifting it and he shuffles closer. “Put me in. If you want it, take it.” He orders, leaning in to nip your jaw.
You don’t hesitate. Notching his cock at your entrance and wrapping your leg around his waist. Dave groans when he feels how wet you are and turns to press his lips to yours as he starts to push inside you.
He slides his tongue against yours as he pushes deeper, loving how you whimper and your fingers tangle in his hair. The water hits his back and you are pressed into the tiles as he stretches you out until he is fully inside you.
He feels so good inside you, so thick. Filling you up, and overwhelming your system with the way his cock scrubs up inside you. “Dave.” Your breathless cry of his name is muffled by the water, but he hears it. His lips twisting up into a smirk as he grinds deeper, twitching inside you as you clench around him. “Fuck.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on as he sets his feet to start moving inside you.
Dave growls, thrusting into you as you are pushed against the tiles. He loves it. He loves you. “Fuck, imagined this pussy so many goddamn times.” He confesses into your jaw, “thought about you so many times.”
You whine in agreement, knowing that despite your conflicted feelings, you had imagined that one night together so many times. You had thought about seeing Dave several times over this year, but you knew that if you did, you would sleep with him, and you hadn’t wanted to risk it. Now you are with him and there is no shame in it. “I love you.” You moan breathlessly, letting him press you against the cold tile wall.
He grunts, “love you too.” His words are washed away by the water, meant for only you and never the outside world. That’s too dangerous. He kisses you softly, rocking into you a little slower as he allows his emotions to show, allowing you to see his vulnerability.
It changes, it turns sensual. Emotional. His tongue slowly slides against yours and he groans into your mouth. Making you answer him in kind, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. Giving everything you have to him and he reaches down to pull your other leg up on his hips, lifting you up against the wall as he kisses you.
He doesn’t fuck you hard. He’s slow and he kisses you deeply, passionately, wanting to show you how he feels. He murmurs your name when he pulls back to kiss your jaw, loving the way you clench around him. “That’s it, baby. Take all of me. Fuck. Your cunt is so perfect.” He murmurs, wanting to shower you with praise.
Your eyes slip closed and it’s like you are in a dream. The slow, sedate pace and the steam makes for a romantic air. Something different from the last time you had sex. “You’re perfect.” You counter, turning his head up and kissing along his throat as he rocks into you. “You fit me so well. Fill me up so good.”
“Not perfect. Far from it. But you are perfect to me. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Thought it from the first time you entered the office.” He promises, “and I- shit-” He hisses when your walls clench around his cock. “I wanted you from that moment.”
You know that he knew about your crush. “Me too.” You whisper in his ear. “Handsome, smart, rugged, I wanted you. I used to dream about working as a team with you, being lovers.”
“Dream came true baby. I am not letting you go. Gonna be mine. In every way.” He promises, “we plan, we kill, we fuck. We will be unstoppable.” He promises, starting to move a little faster. He wants to hear you fall apart for him, feel it, memorize it in case this is some crazy fever dream. “Fuck, I’m not letting you go now.”
You clench around him, making him growl out your name. Body strong and tightening underneath you as he ramps up the intensity of the thrusts. “No, you aren’t.” You agree, you won’t let him walk away this time. You kiss his lips again and grind down on his length. “Make me cum.” You order.
He doesn’t deny you. His fingers dig into your flesh as he fucks into you, pushing deep, and he grunts against your chin as he watches you. Your eyelashes flutter and he grinds into you, trying to find the spot that makes you fall apart around him.
It only takes him half a dozen thrusts to find it. Squealing in pleasure as your body lights up, his cock pressed deep against a spongy little spot deep in your pussy. “Right there?” He grunts, hissing the words through his teeth since you are so tight around him. “Right fucking there?” As if to prove it to himself, he rocks into that spot again and makes you moan. “Dave, fuck baby, more.”
He rocks into you, teeth gritted as he thrusts deep into the same spot over and over. “Fuck. I need you to cum for me.” He demands and your squeal makes his ears burn when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him. “Fuck. You are - shit.” He curses, almost struggling to thrust into you with how tight you’re squeezing him. “Fuck, I love you.” He growls, thrusting to fuck you through it until he finds his own pleasure. He thrusts deep, burying himself as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.
“Oh god.” You whine at the feeling of his seed splashing against your womb, loving how full you feel. You hear the fireworks start to explode over the apartment complex and you smile, pressing your lips to his. “Happy New Year.”
Dave smiles against your lips, “happy new year. What a way to start the new year.” He chuckles and you grin, “with a bang.” Dave nudges his nose against yours and he knows he’s never going to let you go now. You are his. His partner in work and in life. “This is going to be the best year yet.” He promises and you hum, caressing his back as the water flows over you. A new year, a new start.
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pedropascalito · 3 months ago
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Liam is young Dave York
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hellishjoel · 5 months ago
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HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE masterlist
it's been a loooong summer and frankly - I don't want it to end. this is peak season for dilf hunting and ladies (gn), I want to see you support your favorite dilfs!
the dilf neighbor. the dilf father-in-law. the dilf dbf. the ex-dea dilf agent. the sexy space dilf cowboy. I wanna see some dilf and I wanna see it a lot during the last month of summer. you with me?
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LET'S GET DOWN TO IT
for this summer challenge, I want you to get creative - write a story (500+ words), create a moodboard, make a gif, art, etc.
the hot dilf summer challenge is open from August 1st - August 31st (if you procrastinate until the end of the month and it's a little late, that's fine too!)
your hot dilf summer challenge must include at least one pedro pascal character
make sure you add proper warnings - we go hard in the dilf but let's be courteous!
tag me and use the hashtag #hotdilfsummerchallenge so I can track your postings for the masterlist!
have questions? send me an ask/message me and I'd be happy to chat about dilfs any day of the week
special shoutout to a few friends who encouraged this little idea! @thetriumphantpanda @undercoverpena @pedgito
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wannab-urs · 5 months ago
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You’re So Dark
Pairing: Professor!Dave York x Grad Student!f!Reader
Summary: There’s only one thing you really want out of this conference – your research adviser, Dave York. 
Warnings: smut, professor/student relationship, reader is a brat, this is very close to a self insert fic so she’s also a cocky little asshole, power dynamics, age gap (Dave is in his late 40s, reader is at least 21 but not specified), Dave is conflicted, that’s why he’s such a dickhead, Divorced!Dave, drinking but no one is all that intoxicated, unprotected PIV (but he has a vasectomy and reader is on BC), creampie, oral f!receiving, lots of arguing, no use of y/n. WC: 2.4k
A/N: Based on a true story. Just had this idea out of nowhere, don’t look at me. Thanks to @pedgito for the beta <3
Dave York Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi | Playlist
You knock on his door, wearing nothing but a skimpy tank top and shorts. The conference doesn’t start for a while, so you put on comfy clothes following the long car ride. That’s not your only motivation, though, for showing up at his hotel room in barely anything. 
The hotel is nice, nice enough that you feel underdressed in the hallway. You’re set to present your paper on John Donne today at 2. Your research adviser Dr. York – Dave – had picked you up at your apartment at 5 this morning to drive you both to the conference. He’s presenting his latest paper. Something about journals kept by British people during World War II. 
You shift your weight from foot to foot waiting for him to answer the door. Finally, you hear the chain drop and the door opens. He eyes you up and down, one eyebrow quirked, before turning around and walking back into the room. 
“Are you wearing that to the conference?” He’s already settling back into the shitty desk chair by the window. You look down at your outfit and then back up to glare at the back of his head. 
“Yeah. Obviously.” You lay back on his bed and stretch your back, sore from the 5 hour car ride. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Working.” 
You roll onto your stomach and look at him. The mid morning light casts a glare over his screen, but only serves to highlight his features. You hate how pretty he is, how much you want him.
“Are you wearing that to the conference?” He’s wearing navy dress pants and a tight white t-shirt that is definitely a size too small. 
“I have a dress shirt.” He seems irritated today. Shoulders tense, sentences clipped. You wonder if it’s you that has him all worked up. 
You slide off the bed into the floor and go through some simple yoga poses. Your back is really messed up from that car ride. You sit on your knees and walk your hands forward as far as they’ll go, dropping your head to the floor. You sigh as you sink into child’s pose, feeling the stretch in your sore hips and back. “What are you working on?” You ask, voice muffled by the carpet. 
“Will you shut up?” You snap your head up to look at him. He’s fucking tetchy today… and he hasn’t looked over at you once, as far as you can tell. 
“Make me.”
“When have I ever been able to make you do anything?” 
You sit back on your heels and tilt your head to the side. He’s almost shaking, he’s so tense. You’ve never seen him like this. “You never ask nicely.”
He wordlessly scoots his chair back and spreads his legs, still typing away on his laptop. You crawl over and settle yourself between his legs. He still doesn’t look at you.
“What do you want, Dave?” 
“For you to stop talking.”
“Is that all you want?”
“No.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You’re such a fucking brat.”
You lean in and drag your lips over the bulge in his slacks, hear the sharp snatch of breath, the clack of keys as his hands hit them all at once. 
You’re not going to do it until he tells you to and he isn’t going to ask. It’s a standoff. He thinks he has to let you make the first move. Does this not count as a first move? You in such a supplicant pose, gazing up at him from between his thighs. 
“You should go get dressed. We have to leave soon.” Quiet, strained, so unlike his usually smooth and confident cadence, and still not meeting your eyes. He rolls the chair back so you have room to scoot out. 
Your cheeks sting with rejection, but you know he wants you as bad as you want him. He’s just afraid of the consequences. You slip out from under his desk and retreat to your room to get changed. 
–-
The conference goes as smoothly as it can – it was your first ever presentation at something like this, and you definitely got tripped up on some of the questions the audience asked you. Afterward, Dave drags you outside to a group of people. He introduces you to Will, Laurie, Anna, and Doug. They’re colleagues, friends, that he often meets up with at conferences. 
“Wanna come with us to get drinks?” Anna asks. 
“Sure!” you agree before Dave can turn them down. He scowls at you, but turns a megawatt smile on when he looks back to Anna. 
“Sounds good,” he says through his teeth. 
Dave gossips in your ear all night, filling you in on each of his friends. Will and Laurie are both supposedly polyamorous and only hook up with each other at conferences, but Dave knows Will’s wife has no idea. Anna is in trouble with her school for a presentation she did last year, and she had to have today’s presentation reviewed by her department chair before she could present. Doug has a thing for Anna, but she’s married. 
The gossip is a good holdover, but you’re antsy the whole time. You sip vodka sodas slowly while your mind whirs with the possibilities of tonight. Dave drinks whiskey on the rocks, jokes with his friends when he’s not whispering in your ear. 
You and Dave go out to smoke, leaving everyone else in the bar. You split an American Spirit with him. 
“If you only smoke when you drink, why do you have a near empty pack of expensive cigarettes?” 
“I drink every night.” 
“God you’re pathetic.” 
“Not as pathetic as the grad student with a thing for her professor.” 
“Fuck you. You’re not my professor.” 
“Oh, so you do have a thing for me?”
You’d thought that was obvious from your earlier attempt to blow him.
 “You know what’s actually pathetic, Dave? The professor who wants to fuck his student.” 
“You’re not my student.”
 “Oh, so you do want to fuck me?” 
He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray and stalks off inside. 
By the end of the night, you regret agreeing to go out, desperate to get back to the hotel and get Dave alone. This may be your only shot at getting what you want from him and you can’t waste it. You say goodnight to everyone, tell them how nice it was to meet them all, and head out, Dave close behind you. You think you catch Laurie giving him a knowing look, but you can’t be certain. 
You walk back to the hotel, your arm brushing his. Out of nowhere, Dave chuckles and pushes his shoulder into you. 
“What? What’s funny?”
“Nothing. I like that you step on the sewer grates.”
“What?”
“The drainage grates. My ex wife was terrified of them. She’d rather walk in the street than step on one. You don’t even hesitate.”
“Oh.”
“I just mean– I don’t know what I mean. You’re brave.”
“Thanks,” you say earnestly, looking into his eyes. 
“You’re welcome.” He averts his gaze, looks back down at the ground. You think he might be blushing. 
You get to the hotel and the lady at the desk gives you and Dave a strange look. An “I know what this is and I don’t like it” look. You roll your eyes and stalk over to the elevators, punching the button with more force than necessary. You didn’t think it was that obvious, the dance you two were doing around each other. 
The ride up to the tenth floor is tense. Dave doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. When you get up to where you’re supposed to split off, he asks if you want to come to his room for a drink. You say yes and follow him to his room. Now the nerves really kick in. It’s fine, you’re fine. You wonder if he’s gonna reject you again. It would be cruel after inviting you to his room, but he’s never really been kind. 
When you get into his room you sit on the bed and take off your dress shoes, your coat, and the blazer you’ve been wearing all day. He pours himself a bourbon from the minibar and offers you one. You take the cup in your hand, sipping the liquor and feeling heat trail down your throat. He knocks his back in one shot and stands in front of you at the bed.
You stand up, putting you inches from his body. You cover his bulge with your hand, squeezing lightly and nip your teeth at his throat. “Do you want to fuck me, Dave?” 
He shoves you backward with a growl and you fall on the bed. He tugs your trousers off and lowers himself between your legs. He licks you over your panties, feeling how wet you already are. He hooks his fingers into the gusset of your panties, knuckles brushing your entrance. 
“Oh you’re soaked for me, baby girl.” 
“Don’t call me that. Ew. God. Ew.”
“Fine. Brat.” Dave tugs your panties down and tosses them on the floor. He pushes your thighs apart and settles your legs over his shoulders. He covers your cunt with his mouth and flicks his tongue against your clit. You let out a moan and bury your fingers in his short hair. He flattens his tongue against you and you ride his face, grinding his aquiline nose into your mound as you move against him. 
He brings a hand up to press your stomach down, holding you still while he slips two fingers of his other hand inside you. You keen loudly at the stretch, squirming as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 
You’re so wet you can hear the wet squelch of your pussy around his fingers. He crooks them upward and you buck your hips hard enough to break the hold he has on you. 
“F-Fuck, Dave. Please,” you whine. 
“So polite when you finally get what you want,” he mutters into your cunt. 
He’s making you feel so fucking good, you’d let him say anything right now. He strokes your sweet spot almost methodically, like he’s had a lifetime of practice that led him here, making you whine and moan and squirm pathetically on just two of his fingers. Your grip tightens on his hair as you feel white hot bliss crawling up your spine. 
“Fuck. Dave. Gonna come.”
He doesn’t let up, the firm strokes of his fingers driving you higher and higher until finally you reach your peak and come crashing back down. You shatter, your pussy clenching rhythmically. 
“Can I fuck you?” Dave’s voice is rough and low like he’s been yelling.
“Do you have a condom?” 
“Do I need one?” 
“I mean I’m on birth control” 
“Oh I got snipped when I divorced Carol, that’s not what I meant” 
“They had vasectomies in the 1800s?”
“Are you clean or not?” 
“It’s a little fucking late to ask that, man, you just had your tongue inside me, but yeah.” 
“Fair enough.”
Dave helps you up the bed until your head rests on the pillows. He takes your shirt off, stripping your bra with it. He’s fully dressed and you’re bare before him. He leans down and kisses your neck, before his lips trail down to your chest. He sucks a mark into the soft skin of your breast. You start unbuttoning his shirt but he just pulls it off over his head, an urgency that wasn’t there before taking hold. 
“Need to be inside you, fuck.” 
He shucks his slacks down as far as possible without getting up and immediately slots his length against your slit. You reach down and adjust him yourself, lining up the tip with your entrance. He mutters something about “impatient” but pushes inside you anyway. He’s long and thick and he makes you feel so full. When he’s fully sheathed inside you, your eyes roll back in your head with pleasure. 
“Fuck. You’re huge, Dave. Fuck,” you whine, as if he needed the ego boost. 
You gasp his name as he starts fucking you, your fingernails digging into the skin at his sides. You pull him into you, urging him to fuck you harder. He growls and picks up the pace, the slapping of your skin, your loud moans, his grunts fill the room. 
You get lost in it a little, your mind slipping into that space where all you can think about is the sensation of his cock spearing you over and over. 
He slips a hand between your bodies and presses the pads of his fingers to your clit, rubbing in small circles. You throw your head back and scream his name as a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Dave fucks you through it, thrusts slowing but not stopping yet. 
“Where?”
It takes you a second to process what he’s asking. Where do you want his cum? 
“Inside. Please.”
“So polite. Fucked the brat right out of you, huh?”
You’re too fucked out to respond with a witty comment, so he must be right. He thrusts into you deep and you feel his cock pulse as he spills inside you. The sensation almost makes you feel like you could come again. 
He pulls out as soon as he’s finished, rolling to his feet and heading into the bathroom. The bastard doesn’t even seem winded. He comes back from the bathroom holding a wet washcloth in his hand. Dave wipes up the mess between your thighs and tosses the rag onto the floor.  
It’s after he’s cleaned you up and is standing in front of the bed that you notice his body. He’s more lean and muscled than you could really see beneath his dress shirts. You wonder idly if you’ll ever see him like this again. His bare, broad chest. His happy trail leading down to his unbuttoned slacks. 
He strips off his pants, leaving him in his briefs. His thighs are toned too. You kind of wish you’d gotten to explore his body more thoroughly. He crawls into bed and lays beside you, but doesn’t fit his body against yours the way you want him to. Never one to not get exactly what you want, you snuggle up to his side, throwing your arm across his chest. He readjusts and holds you close. 
“Didn’t take you for a cuddler.” 
“Didn’t take you for a missionary guy. Guess we’re both full of surprises.” 
“Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it.” 
You hum noncommittally. It was probably the best sex of your life, but he doesn’t need to know that. 
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pedgito · 1 month ago
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PEDRO PASCAL as DAVE YORK The Equalizer 2 (2018), dir. Antoine Fuqua
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papitopascal · 11 months ago
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To be honest outside of the Pedro bubble it has been a bit stressful and I’ve been feeling a bit down. I’m thankful for the friends Ive made. I’m thankful that this big goofy guy chooses to go out and be himself and make us all smile. We have been given a ton of great content this past week and i for one am thankful for it!
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userparamore · 7 months ago
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#if killer why big brown eyes like a baby cow?
+ bonus:
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bruhlpng · 10 months ago
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Pedro Pascal in The Equalizer 2 (2018)
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