#murder daddy

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Cooper Adams x Reader • Includes themes of violence, murder, blood is mentioned often, period sex, infidelity, oral sex (m&f receiving) Reader and Cooper are both certified freaks seven days a week

You’d suspected for awhile.

You’d wondered even longer.

The question you’d wanted to ask Cooper had sat silent on your tongue so long, you’d have sworn you could taste it by now.

Even still, no amount of wondering could have prepared you for this moment: standing face to blood-streaked face with the man you loved, the question on your tongue quietly dying as it no longer needed answering-

Cooper Adams, your boyfriend, was The Butcher…

He stood still, lingering in the doorway, the one at the back of the house. Cooper had brought you here a couple of times, to smoke and fuck; and each time, he’d always brought you through that door, the one less likely to draw attention from neighbors. The house was isolated, but not completely. With Cooper being a married man, you’d understood his concerns and hadn’t objected to being brought in through the back of the house. Now however, it was obvious that he used the back door to conceal a much darker secret than his infidelity.

His left eye twitched, lips forced into a placating smile that chilled you to your core. “(Y/N)?” Cooper began, his voice wavering. “What are you doing here?” You swallowed as cracks in Cooper’s fake smile began to reveal themselves. Heavy rain pelted the ground behind him, lightning briefly illuminating his silhouette, tall and intimidating. He tightened his grip on the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the sudden movement made you flinch, which Cooper found amusing.

Blood caked his jeans and the plaid flannel button-down he wore. His hair was tossed to the sides of his face, except for a few strands that seemed to be matted against his forehead with sweat. Cooper’s jaw was tight, the muscles in his neck flexing as he chewed the inside of his mouth, thinking. He’d have to get rid of you now, and that upset him. Cooper had enjoyed you, and not just fucking you. He’d grown fond of your dark sense of humor and the way both your mind and his seemed to play well with each other.

If he was being totally honest with himself, Cooper could even admit that he loved you. He’d confided in you, shared secrets of his past, his traumatic upbringing, the way he’d never been accepted by his mother or anyone else for that matter, until meeting his wife. And later, meeting you.

Your histories and minds were similar, in so many ways. Unfortunately, you’d proven yourself too clever for your own good…too clever to keep alive.

Cooper sighed, his insincere smile returning. “This is going to hurt,” he said, nodding for emphasis. “I mean that, (Y/N).” He took a step toward you; you shifted backward. “And I’m not even talking about the pain,” he continued. “Not the kind you’ll feel…” Cooper removed something from the bag, his eyes fixed on yours. It took you a second to identify the knife in his hand; it was so caked with partially-dried blood, you could barely make out what it was.

“…I’m talking about the pain I’ll feel,” Cooper continued, bringing the soiled knife to rest against his chest. “Here…in my heart.” He kicked his heel against the door, closing it behind him with a loud thud. You jumped, recoiling at the sound. Cooper held his hands tensed at his sides, the knife tucked under his right thumb. “I don’t want to lose you,” he said, taking another step closer. You didn’t back away this time; your mind was racing for a solution, for a way to make Cooper understand that killing you wasn’t necessary.

“Then don’t,” you told him, trying to sound brave. You hoped he couldn’t see you trembling, couldn’t hear the plea in your next words even as you tried to suppress it: “Don’t kill me, Cooper…”

His expression was bittersweet, a resigned sigh leaving his chest. “They all say that,” Cooper told you, his voice eerily calm. “None of them want to die, (Y/N). They all beg me not to kill them.” He changed his voice to a slightly higher pitch, imitating his victims. “ ‘Don’t kill me, please…I’ll do anything, please…Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone’ .” Cooper’s free hand shot out and grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you into him, erasing the remaining space between you. “What makes you think you’re any different from the rest of the people I’ve murdered?” he glared down at you.

A tear rolled down your cheek, so hot it burned. “I’m different because I love you, Cooper,” you told him. And you meant it. His grip on your wrist softened immediately, the tension in his jaw easing. “I don’t care that you’re The Butcher, or whatever stupid nickname they’ve given you,” you continued. “I accept you. Cooper, I love you.” A few seconds passed in silence. “Have any of the others ever said that?”

Cooper’s eyebrows were drawn together in concentration as he wrestled with the conflicting messages inside him. One said to protect himself by ending your life. The second option was much more tempting for Cooper, to grant you the mercy of life, a privilege which he alone now held.

Cooper pressed his lips to the top of your head, his knife ghosting your cheek as he used the hand that held it to stroke your hair. His breath was heavy, his chest rumbling against your cheek as he spoke. “What am I going to do with you?” Cooper asked. It wasn’t a question at all, not really. You lifted your chin, eyes fixed on Cooper’s, tilting your head so the blade in his hand was deliberately primed against your throat. An offering up, not of surrender, but of submission. He’d seen his share of tears, heard more than enough screams to fill his ears a lifetime; but the way your resistance melted in front of him touched something in Cooper that hadn’t been touched in a long time, if ever. Faced with the darkest part of his soul, you still accepted him.

You placed a hand tentatively on Cooper’s forearm, where the sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows. While his hands were clean from wearing gloves, Cooper’s forearms were spattered with blood, a viscous crimson syrup drying in the tufts of hair lining his skin. He repeated his question, a huskier, seductive tone making his meaning crystal clear: “…what am I going to do with you?”

Cooper released his grip on the knife. It fell to the floor with a clatter, as lightning lit up the room, thunder rumbling close by. He was bent forward slightly so your foreheads could touch, his eyes drifting closed as you smoothed your hands across his broad shoulders. Warm breath dusted your neck as Cooper’s kiss traveled down the slope of your shoulder, his big hands securing you in place at the small of your back. The energy between you was electric, buzzing like an alarm whose warning you refused to heed. You were in too deep, now. With Cooper, you always had been.

He began to work the buttons of his flannel undone, as you went down to your knees. You looked up at Cooper from between his feet, his heavy boots caked with mud and grass from the storm outside. Lightning struck very close to the house; the lights flickered as thunder bellowed from above. And then, the room went dark, moonlight alone providing any visual for the two of you.

Cooper was unaffected by the loss of electricity. He folded his shirt and set it aside, hands moving to undo his belt and jeans. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness quickly; you were able to make out the image of Cooper, his hulking frame towering over yours, stray strands of hair fallen forward as he watched you at his feet. You were on your knees in front of The Butcher himself, and it felt…exhilarating. Rather than making a plea for your life, your tongue was gently pleading for his sex, padding thick and wet against the outline of Cooper’s erection.

He tugged his zipper down and freed his cock, the wet tip tapping against your lips in the darkness. You felt Cooper’s hand come to rest atop your head, his fingers knotting softly inside your hair, guiding you gently onto him. The only sounds in the room were Cooper’s shallow breaths and grunts, and the wet sucking sound of your throat closing around him. Cooper let you suck him a moment longer, before removing his cock from your mouth, breathily explaining “-the shower, baby-want to fuck you in the shower.” He felt around the floor for his duffel bag and retrieved a flashlight from inside it. Switching it on, Cooper smiled when he saw your streaked makeup in the light, knowing his cock had made a mess of it. He held the flashlight between his teeth and trotted upstairs with you, using the beam to light your way.

The bathroom in its entirety wasn’t that large but thankfully, the shower was. Cooper switched on the faucet and held his arm under the water stream to check the temperature, bits of dried blood re-wetting and dripping to the shower floor. You’d quickly discarded your own clothes and stepped inside, around the water stream till Cooper had adjusted it. He shed his pants and hastily folded them before tossing them onto the sink. He was in a hurry; he’d never wanted you this badly before.

The flashlight’s battery was almost dead, its last real bit of power used on the way upstairs. Now, you and Cooper were essentially in complete darkness again, except for the moonlight threading through the small bathroom window. Cooper had no trouble manipulating your body in the darkness. His right hand slipped immediately between your thighs, reaching around with his other arm and pulling your chest into his. Warm water cascaded down Cooper’s back and shoulders, dripping along his chest and between your breasts where your bodies were pressed together. His fingers rubbed rough circles over your clit, making your hips buck into the heel of his palm as you selfishly chased your climax. “That’s a good girl,” Cooper murmured in the darkness, his breath labored with arousal. “Gonna come for me just like this, yeah?” You whimpered a reply, but Cooper wasn’t satisfied. “Oh, you can do better than that, sweetheart,” he said. “Use your words. Tell me how you’re gonna come-.” He dipped his head forward, teeth catching the soft skin of your neck and biting just enough to make you squirm even more wildly on his hand. “Ungh-on-oh!” you squeaked, your hips trembling. “-On your h-hand, S-Sir!”

Cooper’s face was stoic but satisfied in the darkness; he was in his element, his happy place. He was in control. As you quivered and shook on his hand cupping your pussy, Cooper slid his other hand around your throat, briefly silencing your scramble of moans and whimpers. “WORDS, baby,” he gently reprimanded, his fingertips tapping against your pulse. “Can’t give you what you want till you ask for it-.”

Cooper slipped a finger between your lips, hooking around the smooth spot inside you, your spongy walls sucking his finger greedily. Your head fell backward, a string of desperate pleas tumbling from your mouth, interspersed with Cooper’s name. He let you come, giving you what you needed because you’d asked for it so nicely. You gushed all over Cooper’s hand and wrist, slick spilling between his fingers and onto the shower floor. He couldn’t see it in the darkness, and he didn’t need to; he could feel your blood on his fingers, knew the texture well and that your orgasm had surely painted the shower floor red at his feet.

He removed his finger from inside you, once you’d stopped squeezing it, and popped the slippery digit inside his mouth. A coppery, musky flavor sank warm on his tastebuds; Cooper exhaled gratefully through his nose, releasing his finger only after sucking every drop of you from it.

Lightning crackled above the house as Cooper lowered himself to his knees in front of you. You rested your hands on his shoulders, leaning into his sturdy frame as he sank his mouth between your legs. Cooper’s tongue found exactly what he’d hoped to find, what he craved…more of your sweet arousal tinged with the bitter tang of fresh blood.

You knew you were bleeding; your period had started that morning. You also knew that Cooper had a preference for fucking you on your period; you’d just never really thought much of it. The truth was, the blood aroused Cooper, reminded him of his other, secret life, and the power he held over others. Seeing himself covered in someone else’s blood, especially such intimate places like his cock, helped Cooper achieve the most powerful orgasms imaginable. It’s one of the reasons he’d grown to love you; your openness to trying literally anything sexually was liberating, allowing Cooper the chance to indulge his most taboo fantasies. One of those fantasies included eating you out on your period. He’d tried to bring other women around to the idea, but each of them had been repulsed by even the suggestion. You, however, had no reservations about letting Cooper use your body however he wanted, in whatever state it was in…

His tongue bathed your outer lips, licking them clean. Cooper massaged his cock in lazy strokes, in no hurry to come just yet. When the tip of his tongue pressed inside you, he grinned against your pussy at the way your soft, wet entrance trembled around him.

One of your hands was now on Cooper’s head, fingers locked in the strands of his hair. When he hoisted your leg over his left shoulder, you braced yourself against him, knowing he wouldn’t let you fall. Cooper held you steady as he nuzzled and lapped your essence, his eyes closed in a kind of reverent, trance-like high. It was the closest Cooper had ever come to a religious experience, drinking your most precious offering at the altar of your thighs, and for him, it was more than enough.

When he’d made you come twice more on his tongue, Cooper rose to stand, pressing red kisses to your belly and breasts that looked like lipstick marks. He reached for you in the darkness, his hands pulling your hips closer. You felt Cooper’s erection prodding between your thighs, and closed your hands around it. He hissed in a sharp breath as you grazed his tip; he was so sensitive, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Get on your knees,” Cooper panted urgently, his hand on your head pushing you downward. You sank to the shower floor, letting Cooper guide his cock into your mouth in the darkness. Lightning flashed outside, briefly revealing his blood-soaked lips parted in desperation, his eyes fixed on you at his feet while he used your mouth for his own satisfaction.

Cooper finished down your throat with a growl, his stomach tense as hot streams of cum pulsed over your tongue. You swallowed his seed with a contented grin, humming softly around Cooper’s shaft as you tugged the last drops of his cum between your lips.

The water continued to pour over your bodies as Cooper cradled you against his chest, rocking you gently. In that moment, he almost regretted his decision, almost thought of changing his mind. But there was no sense in getting sloppy after all these years, after so long a run of keeping his secret life secret.

Cooper glanced at the bathroom sink. A thin sliver of moonlight cast onto the knife you hadn’t noticed him bring upstairs along with the flashlight. He pressed his lips to your forehead one last time in a silent kiss goodbye, and reached toward the sink…

[aurorawritestoescape]

FLAT LINE || dark!Dave York x f!reader || 800

18+ mdni DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non con, smut

creator chose not to use all the warnings

*****

His obsidian eyes are boring into yours, as you’re thrashing and wriggling, completely naked, while his hand on your throat is holding you pressed to the bed. Your legs are getting tangled tighter and tighter in the cold sheets, soaked with your and your boyfriend’s sweat and cum.

You two were having one of those nights, drinking, smoking and fucking on a loop until this monster slithered into your house and took a shot. Only one for now but you’re sure there’ll be one more.

You’re trying to push him off with your trembling hands, eyes darting between his bloodcurdling stare and the splatter of blood on your wrist. Soon you focus only on them as your mind tries to save you from seeing the whole picture-you’re dying tonight.

The killer lets go your throat, you cough and then try to scream but like in a nightmare nothing comes out of your burning throat.

When he’s done condescending you with this joke of a fight he grabs your hands and cuffs you to the bed. You haven’t done this with your boyfriend tonight but the images of him tying you up a few times before emerge from your memory and you gush more.

As if sensing this pathetic reaction of your body, the man spreads your legs and leers at your puffy cunt.

“You’ve had a fun night, sweetheart?”

His tone is calm, static like a flat line and your heart seems to stop beating, as if already giving up.

His fingers easily slip inside your stretched hole and you jerk and try to kick him off. The killer grabs your ankles and holds them pressed to his shoulder, one big hand is enough to keep your legs together.

He renders you completely helpless, hands chained to the bed, legs bound by his strong grip.

His fingers return to your hole and he pushes them deep into you, with the same cold dead eyes.

“How many times did he come inside you tonight?”

You mewl at the question, staring up at him, vision blurry with tears.

He quickly pushes your legs off his shoulder and holds them up. You squeal even before he slaps your cunt with the back of his hand. Hard. It burns like hell but your whole body buzzes as the stroke sends a wave of arousal from your overstimulated clit to every cell in your body.

“How…many?” He slowly repeats the question and you hurry to reply, scared of another hit.

“Three”

“Good,” he says and gently rubs your swollen pussy.

You half moan, half cry out as your walls contract at his touch.

He breathes in sharply when a trickle of creamy liquid flows out of your hole.

“She’s all used up and filled to the brim. Lovely.”You hear him say quietly and to your horror he opens his pants with a free hand and pulls out his cock. It’s hard and huge and you whine a pathetic ‘please’ which he leaves completely unnoticed.

He sits on his knees and then gets on top of you, your ankles still in his hand, caging your legs between his body and yours.

The killer plunges in fast and hard, quickly parting your walls with his thick long cock. He’s bigger than your boyfriend and you feel a sting of the stretch.

The man moans over you, pleasure twisting his face, very close to yours now. Hearing him you can’t stop your pussy from squeezing his length.

“So much cum, sweetheart. Feel it pouring out?My balls are soaked,” He whispers against your cheek, his soft lips tickling you.

“Please,” you mewl once again and once again it stays unnoticed.

He lets go of your legs and you don’t have time to react before he manhandles you into a mating-press, bracing his elbows on the bed by your shoulders and starts pounding into you. Your abused cunt burns at first but all the cum inside quickly turns the pain into pleasant stimulation and you chew on your swollen lips.

He growls and roars over your heated face and you squeeze your eyes shut with embarrassment hearing your pussy squelch loudly as his cock churns your boyfriend’s cum inside your cunt.

“Can she take one more?” You hear him growl and open your eyes in fear. If he comes soon it means you have only seconds.

“Please, please, let me go… don’t k…” his palm slaps over your mouth and he bites your cheek, making you squeal into his hand.

“Shut up. Daddy’s coming.”

A few more thrusts and you see him close his eyes as he stills while his warmth is spilling inside you. Then he rolls his hips, spurting his seed again and again until you’re so full of cum you feel it press on your walls already stretched out by his cock.

When he seems to be done, his lips brush against your stinging cheek and you feel cold metal pressed to your temple.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” is the last thing you hear.

*****

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs will make my praise kink go brrrr!

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[magpiepills]

Gemini

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Dave York x f! Reader x OC Em

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: you and your friend decide to have a little fun and get more than you bargained for.

Warnings: SMUT, FFM, oral f and m receiving, sex toys, fingering, degradation, facial, cum play, I can’t remember what else. You know what you’re here for. No use of y/n, not proofread, not beta’d, all mistakes are mine, just ignore them.

A word from the author: I have had this nearly complete in my WIPs for MONTHS. I can’t believe it is finally done. Dedicated to my girls (especially @youandmeand5bucks ) who know who they are. Love you so much, my sluts.

You made the agreement years ago. You don’t even remember how it started and it had always felt like a silly promise, an inside joke. You and your best friend would never fight over a man. If you ever liked the same guy, you’d just share him and live happily ever after as a throuple. You gleefully announced plans and goals for your hypothetical family of three often.

“We are going to have so many dogs!”

“Can we just make our bedroom one huge bed?”

“You cook, I’ll clean!”

It was comforting to have a plan, even if you never did find your third.

It was especially comforting when everyone either of you dated was a disappointment. Anger issues, hidden drug addictions, liars, and bad lays. The girls you’d dated were just as much of a let down as the guys. It was discouraging. Em didn’t fare much better. She’s had her own heartbreaks. Tonight finds you sitting at the Silver Dollar, a cozy bar where you can tuck into a booth and commiserate, clinking every glass together, sloshing your rum and cranberry, growing bolder and surlier. You’re making more plans. Em is leaning her forehead into her palm, looking dejected. You don’t want to see her like this.

“Em. Em! Em, let’s fuck somebody. Let’s have fun.”

She can hear the tone you get when you’re about to make a bad decision, but she just smiles without looking up.

“I’m serious! Why should we suffer?”

Your best friend looks up, to your delight, the gleam in her eyes matches yours.

“Alright. Yeah. Let’s fuck somebody.”

You may have squealed. You’ve had a threesome before. You’d agreed to sleep with your ex and his ex, against your better judgment, but you only live once, right? And you and Em had fooled around a bit. Something of a party trick. Maybe it was a tired cliche, but it did always heat things up to make out with your friend to the cheers and encouragement of the people around you. It never meant anything, so why not? You trust Em, she trusts you, and you know that no matter what, you’ll have each other if no one else.

Em ordered one more round while you touched up your lipstick, feeling electric. You had a nice buzz, feeling tingly and charming. Scooting over to sit on the same side of the booth as your friend, you began to scan the room, smiling, searching, leaning close to talk in Em’s ear, pointing out who would or wouldn’t work for your stress reliever. Maybe you’d never needed to invoke “the plan” before because you and Em rarely fell for the same types. Agreeing wasn’t going to be easy. There were big guys, barrel chested, bearded and loud, young, smug white guys who were almost certainly in “finance” or whatever, ball cap wearing plaid shirted bros who would probably spring for pizza after. None you could agree on. You had begun to think that the fantasy could be enough to get you by when a man strode by you, sidled up to the bar, and waved to the bartender with such a commanding presence that you and Em were both spellbound. You blinked at him, looked at each other, looked back to him, and watched as he took his drink and turned to survey the room before finding a spot to settle in.

He was handsome. You would guess he was in his mid forties, putting him roughly fifteen years ahead of you, not that you minded. He had thick brown curls, just slightly overgrown, beginning to show a hint of gray, and creases at the corners of his eyes. He was in a suit, but no tie. He had a ring on his left hand.

“Probably meeting his wife.” You huffed to Em, more disappointed than was probably necessary for the circumstances. Her smile had dropped as well though, and you turned back to your drinks. You wanted to be hoes, not homewreckers. Right?

Dave had seen you. He saw you smiling and laughing, grabbing each other’s hands as you talked. It was hard to miss your animated conversation. Hard to not notice your low cut dress and her snug tank top. You must be in your early thirties. Maybe mid thirties. Adults, but with some spark of youth and possibility left. Dave secured a glass of whiskey and found his vantage point- a high top table in the corner. He could easily see you, but you’d have to crane your necks to see him.

He pulled out his phone and typed a quick text. “Late meeting, won't be home for a while. Don’t wait up, love you.” and sent it to Carol. Carol, his unassuming wife and mother of his children. Always so understanding about his late nights at the office.

The Silver Dollar wasn’t really the place to dance, but there was a juke box and a pool table, so rather than call it a night, you sunk a few dollars into the machine and selected Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, the first few notes drawing mixed responses from the nearby crowd. You can’t make everyone happy.

Em chalked her pool stick and you racked the balls- was that the right word? Who cares? You made them look like a triangle and sang along to your song. “It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams…” you sang to yourself as you stood and turned. Your eyes landed on the handsome man once more. His eyes were on you, his glass tilted to his lips and you could swear he was smiling. He couldn’t be, though. You smiled with closed lips and turned away.

“Em. Look. Look. That guy is LOOKING at us.”

Always subtle, Em dropped the end of her pool cue to the floor, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and smiled right at him.

“Maybe he’ll come over! Looks like he’s alone.”

You ventured another look, and he was indeed all alone at his table, and he was definitely still looking your way. He didn’t look away as he sat down his glass and strode toward you.

“Good song, but you suck at pool.”

You scoffed at his opening line, annoyed that he was already being a dick and eager to hear more of his smooth, deep voice.

“Show us how it’s done then, babe. Put balls in holes and maybe my friend will give you a kiss. Keep you from saying anything dumb.”

If he can be an asshole, you can be an asshole.

“Deal.”

He regarded you for a moment, leaned over the sticky felt, and jabbed the cue forward. The white ball tapped the orange ball and the orange ball knocked the yellow ball into the side pocket. Of course it did. He looked at Em expectantly, and ever the good sport, she kissed him softly, giving his tie a little tug. His smile was infuriating.

“How about you, sweetheart? What do you want to wager?”

You thought about it, then winked at Em.

“Make another shot like that and I’ll kiss her.”

“You’d do that anyway. Think of something else.”

There he went being an asshole again. A confident, cocky, good-looking asshole.

“Alright, make three more shots and we’ll take you to the bathroom.”

His eyes glittered and the corner of his mouth lifted a tiny bit as he looked back and forth from you to Em, and Em to you.

“I’m going to make four shots and then we’re going back to mine.”

“That’s a pretty bold assumption. What makes you think we would leave with you?” Em was at your side now, arm around your waist, while you combed your fingers through her hair lightly. You could tell she didn’t mind his lousy personality. She never recognized a red flag. You liked his voice though, and his eyes were kind of nice. He had the nose of a Greek god. If she wanted to go home with him, why shouldn’t you indulge her? Safer to go together anyway.

“You came here just to go home with somebody. It’s either one of these guys,” he said, gesturing to the crowd that had gathered around a college basketball game on the tv “or it's someone who can make you come.”

“Alright, well that’s a lot of big talk. Move the balls and we’ll see what happens.

And he does. First one, then another and another and another. He does it quickly and as easily as if the balls had been pulled with string. He grins wide, showing his straight white teeth and how his eyes crinkle at the corners. He really is handsome. Maybe you’d be insufferable too if you were an attractive man. He slid his arm around you, pulling you close for a kiss that made your pussy throb. When he pulled away, he didn’t turn you loose, just smirked and pulled Em in for another just like it. You heard her moan softly into his mouth.

“Let’s go.” He snaps his fingers and tilts his head toward the door. “I’ll get a cab.” By the time your tab was settled at the bar, a black sedan was waiting. He opened the door for you, ushering you inside with a gloved hand, sealing your plans for the night.

••••••

His apartment was immaculately clean, with little in the way of personality. This was clearly not his home, and while that raised a few questions, neither you or Em thought it was wise to ask. You didn’t ask about the ring, either. You asked his name and he’d told you, but offered nothing more. Maybe you should have been more cautious, but his cool, detached demeanor, the car with a driver, the expensive looking coat and shoes he wore, and the way he smelled clean and well-off in an indescribable sort of way were enough to reassure you that he wasn’t planning to murder you. He didn’t look like a killer.

“Get comfortable. We’ll be a while.” Dave called from the kitchen where he poured wine into three glasses. You and Em each settled into a cushion on the couch, leaving room for him to sit in the middle. When he returned with the wine, he frowned.

“You’re still dressed. I told you to get comfortable. Take your clothes off.” You were a little taken aback at how blunt he was, but you began to unzip your dress. He stopped you again, more thoughtful this time. “Undress each other.”

Dave knew girls like you. Fun girls. Girls he could blow off steam with. You would think you were giving him the thrill of a lifetime, that you were in control. Exactly the kind of girls he liked to push to their limits and see what they were really game for. Would one of you be more bold than the other? Would one of you pout and feel left out? Maybe you’d surprise him. Maybe you’d be just what he was looking for.

Turning to Em, you exchange knowing looks and pull her tank top up, gathering the material in your hands, slowly exposing her inch by inch, taking time to rub your hands over each bit of newly exposed skin. You took extra care in lifting the skimpy top over her tits, pulling the hem snug as you inched it up, letting them bounce lewdly as they were freed. You snuggled close to her, tracing your fingers over her hardening nipples as she finished unzipping your dress, letting it fall. Em gently squeezed your breasts, pushing them up, kneading at the plush swell of them, daring to lean forward to take a nipple into her mouth.

Of course, this was all a show, a little put-on for Dave’s benefit. Pleased with yourselves, you turned to see his reaction. He had taken his place on the couch, tie loosened, shirt untucked,knees spread wide, eyes dark, and hands resting suggestively, dangerously close to the bulge that strained against his pants.

He raised his eyebrows. “Keep going. I said naked. This isn’t skinemax, ladies.”

“Sure looks like you’re enjoying it so far.” Em piped up from behind you as she slid her hands around your waist, tucking her fingertips into the lacy band of your panties, sliding her hands forward and down to cup your mound. You wiggled your hips and smirked at him, holding his gaze as you leaned back to catch your best friend’s lips in a soft kiss. His hips rocked ever so slightly but he only reiterated “Keep. Going.”

Soon her jeans and both your panties were on the floor and you kissed, groping at each other in the best impression you could do of over-produced porn. You were both wet, seeping arousal, taking turns caressing each other’s pussies. There was no real intent in your touches, it was all theater.The way Dave watched and moved his hand to cover the tent in his pants didn’t escape you. You could see him gently pressing it and squeezing it, you saw how his chest rose and fell. After Em had rubbed your slick onto your nipples and blew on them to make them stiffen, you dragged your fingers through her folds and sucked her taste from your fingers. You kissed her deeply. “Don’t you taste good, baby?” You cooed to her.

You watched as Dave stood and loosened his belt, pulling it from his belt loops in a way that made you throb. Dave had had enough of your simpering. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s see if you can listen and earn a little reward, hm? Think you can do that? You both nodded, batting your eyes at him. “Knees, both of you. Right here.” He gestured to the floor at his feet. You obediently kneeled, waiting for his next move. The air was buzzing with anticipation as you got between his knees. You were close, softly pawing at each other, bare breasts bumping together, pouting and kissing and running hands up his thighs. “You sluts do this a lot, huh? So hungry for cock you’re willing to do anything for it.” He grinned darkly as he unzipped his slacks to release his turgid member.

It was big. you stared at it a moment, lips falling open in awe. You looked to Em, but found her similarly stunned by the cock Dave had just pulled from his pants. You could tell he was well endowed, but it wasn’t just big, it was beautiful. Thick, tanned, with a prominent vein running up the underside to a mouthwateringly fat head that shone with precome. “It won’t suck itself.” Dave interrupted your thoughts.

You licked your lips subconsciously as you watched him stroke his length lazily. The glint of his wedding band, the smooth pull of foreskin covering and uncovering his fat, leaking tip. You yourself for a moment, but Dave brought you back. “You’d do anything I told you to, wouldn’t you? Dumb little whores. You can’t help yourselves.”

You blinked up at him, nodding shallowly. He raised an eyebrow at you, and the time to talk was over. You gripped the thick base and licked up the length of him. Em held his balls in her palm as you worked, licking and sucking up one side until she joined you, working in tandem to slick him up with your combined saliva, taking impatient turns sucking the tip into your mouths. You tried to kiss each other with his cock between your lips, letting him thrust into the wet tunnel made by your mouths as your tongues meet under his heavy shaft. Suddenly Em pulls away, kissing you hard before gripping your hair in her hand to guide Dave’s cock into your mouth. She strokes him while she fucks him with your mouth, looking from him to you, pleased with her little trick. Your mind was blank. You let the two of them use you like a toy and your cunt dripped, wetting your thighs. Dave leaned over you and wrapped his warm hand around the back of your neck. You couldn’t see what was happening, but you heard the unmistakable sound of kissing.

“That’s good girls. Great. But if you want a little surprise you have to go get it.”

“Go get it?” You asked dumbly, not understanding what he meant.

“It’s in the bedroom. Right down the hallway. Go ahead, the door’s open.”

You and Em stood and moved toward the dark hallway, but his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Uh uh. On your knees. Want to see you crawl for me.”

Dave was smirking, but he just held out his hand, gesturing for you to go ahead of him. Another look is exchanged between you and your friend. You saw the flash of uncertainty in her eyes, but she followed suit as you dropped to your knees, arching your back to make a show of crawling as seductively as possible while Dave followed, watching the sway of your hips.

“Really didn’t expect to bring home a whore tonight, let alone two.”

You made it to his bed and you both sat on your knees, assuming a submissive position without even being told. Dave had that effect.

“You’re fast learners. I think you earned your prize. Treasure chest is under the bed, sweetheart. Pull it out.”

He directed Em with a jut of his chin as he untied his tie, then unbuttoned his shirt with care, laying it neatly on the dresser. As he worked to undress, Em pulled a black briefcase from under the bed. She popped the latches and lifted the top, revealing an array of vibrators and dildos and toys you’d only seen in porn.

You picked up a glass wand with a little pink heart on one end, and teased it between your tits.

“This is quite a collection, Dave…You know how to use all this?”

Dave was stripped down to just his snug black boxers now, pretty cock tucked away once more. He knelt down and took your chin in his big warm hand and spoke softly.

“I’m not going to use them. You are.” He turned to look at Em, smiling sweetly. “On her.”

It sent a chill up your spine. Where did this man come from? Where did he learn to talk like this? How often does he do this? He was unreal, you thought. Em was similarly affected, her eyes were shining obsidian, and her hand was between her thighs.

“You want that? Hmm?” He pouted at her mockingly. “Get on the bed and lay down.” You reached for a purple vibrator, but he grabbed your wrist. “I’ll pick. Go get between her legs.” You might have been nervous, but when you stood, he smacked your ass playfully, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Em had made herself comfortable on his pillows, hair fanned out around her head, knees bent, and fingers dipping aimlessly into her slit. “You’re so pretty.” You cooed to her. “Look at you, sexy girl. You ready to let him watch me fuck you?” Em kissed you, quick and sweet, a reminder that this was something you both wanted. “I’m ready for you, baby. Better make me come.”

Dave brought his “treasure chest” to the bed and climbed on behind you. He was close. You could feel his breath on your shoulder before his hands were on your thighs, your belly, pinching your nipple, never staying in one spot long. “I want you to play with her tits.”

You climbed over your best friend forever, and kissed her again, more sensually this time. You plucked at her nipple, then licked the other.

“Suck and squeeze.”

Dave directed from his spot in the bed. You did as he said. You propped yourself up on your elbows and squeezed both her plush breasts, pushing them together and sucking her pebbled little peak. She sighed and you licked over to the other to give it the same treatment, licking, sucking, swirling your tongue over the point. You flexed your fingers, dimpling her flesh. Her sighs became whines, and she began to roll her hips beneath you. You were lost in her warmth, her sweet scent.

“Stop. That’s enough. You’re both wet, probably soaking my sheets. Think you can make her come now?”

He hands you a smooth purple vibrator, and presses a button to bring it to life, buzzing in your hands.

Dave shuffled on the bed for a better view as you drew the toy across Em’ mound, making her buck her hips.

“Look at her body begging for it,” he admired. “Lower.”

You caressed her slick lips, twisting the toy over her slit teasingly, not pressing, just letting her feel the weight. Em groaned and twisted Dave’s sheets in her fists.

“Touch your tits, pretty girl,” you cooed to her “let’s show him how good you can be.”

She did as you said, delicately skating her fingers around her nipples as you clicked the button to kick the vibe to a higher setting.

Dave held your hips with his big, warm hands as he watched you glide his toy through her folds. You drew it from where she dripped and up over her clit, making several slow passes, before pushing it inside, eased by her arousal. She gasped and pinched at her nipples as you fucked her on the toy. She chased the sensation, needy and unashamed of her desperation to come for you and for Dave.

You wanted so badly to please him.

His breath was warm on your neck, it made your nipples tighten and your pussy throb to be his plaything. You pressed the buzzing tip of the vibrator to her clit and plunged two fingers inside, pumping them deep. In moments she was undone, squeezing your fingers, bucking her hips, rasping your name, but her eyes were on him.

While you were making her come on your hand, he was exploring your body with his hands, feeling the weight of your breasts, caressing over your stomach, testing the wetness of your slick and dripping center. He coated his fingers in your wetness and brought them to your nipples, teasing the tender points before bringing his fingers to your mouth, letting you suck his three slippery fingers clean.

When Em’s moans died down to soft panting, he took the vibrator and tossed it aside.

“That’s enough,” he declared, turning you and arranging you between her legs. He pushed you against her, you felt the heat of her soft body against you, her arms circling you to pluck at your nipples and push your tits together, kneading and squeezing them for Dave to enjoy.

He watched a moment, shoving his boxers back down his thighs to stroke his cock, dark eyes moving from your tits to your shiny slick pussy, to her lips kissing your shoulder and neck.

“The two of you were made for this, weren’t you? Just two little sluts waiting for a man who knew what to do with you.”

You both nodded and turned your heads to kiss each other, letting your tongues tease at each other.

Dave pushed your legs up and apart, spreading you wide, exposing you. He made Em hold you open, her hands under your knees like he showed her.

The three of you moved against each other, with you sandwiched between them, Dave driving into you, slowly at first so you could feel every bit of the sting and stretch as he entered. He was thick and pulsing inside you, seated deep and snug, you needed him to move.

He drew back slowly, and you anticipated the returning thrust, but he didn’t stop. He pulled out and ground his wet cock against your swollen, sensitive folds, the thick head of him nudging at your clit, then suddenly piercing you again, sawing in and out.

He set a punishing pace, slamming into you deep and hard, with one hand on the back of your thigh, and the other on Em’s shoulder, holding her just where the column of her neck sloped down, and felt the rapid beat of her pulse under his hand as you keened pathetically.

The angle of his hips let you feel the rough scratch of the trimmed hair at the base of his cock against your swollen clit. Your orgasm burst, sparking and hot, rippling through your body and his.

“Fuck,” he sneered, teeth bared. “Oh fuck, yes, little whore pussy wants my come.”

He pulled out of you suddenly, leaving you fluttering around nothing as you came down, and quickly repositioned to take his wet cock in his fist and aim the warm ropes of milky spend across your face.

Cum covered your lips, your nose, your cheeks and chin. You tasted the mild, salty flavor on your tongue.

Dave watched with satisfaction at his work, and Em looked on in dazed awe. He looked between your faces. “Clean her up. Don't waste it.”

Em licked your cheek, timidly at first. You twisted to give her better access, and she dragged her soft tongue through Dave’s mess, spreading it, humming at the taste. She reached around your chest to hold your tits in her hands, squeezing them, playing with them as she licked the cooling semen from your face and kissed it into your mouth, sharing it with you for Dave’s enjoyment. When you were finally done, you turned to him, pleased with yourselves.

David showed you to his en-suite and you and Em cleaned yourselves up.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

You giggled and whispered to each other, wiping your faces with Dave’s thick, soft washcloths. You patted down your fucked out hair, and left the apartment hand in hand, declining Dave’s offer of an Uber. With your shoes hooked on your fingers, you looked at your best friend.

“Want to get Taco Bell?”

[chief-girl]

I made this purely for science 👀

[calluna-dekarios]

I'm just out here trying to play a Divine Murder Daddy.

Tryna live my worst life so I can fuck up Mystra.

But now I'm feeling all guilty because my girl brought me a snack for my magical tummy troubles!

I can't disappoint Tara!

[missuswalker]

hello <3 i enjoy your fics a lot, and i saw you were asking for requests, so!!! could you maybe write something abt jpm with an artistic fem!reader as a wife? with something like writing or painting

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 || 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

❦ summary: your husband is your biggest fan

❦ warnings: mention of murder like once, but y’all, it’s james

❦ notes: I LOVE YOU AND THIS IDEA WHAT OFC OFC

the curtains were drawn in your lavishly decorated suite, silvery moonlight flooding through the crystal-like glass of the window. a warm glow from slowly-melting candles illuminated the canvas in front of you, giving off just enough light to work with. as you hummed to yourself, you began to paint the view from where you were sitting, featuring a few of the many vases full of james’ flowers. gorgeous, blood-red roses, lilies, and tulips. james offered you a luxurious lifestyle, spoiling you with gifts quite often.

the man worshipped the ground you walked on. everything you did was extraordinary. he swore you were a goddess, blessed with beauty and creativity. while he supported many of your hobbies, he did not yet knew you liked to paint. you hardly had time to paint, and when you did, it was always when james was ‘busy’ (masterminding a murder). it was your special thing for now, your secret. you weren’t purposefully keeping it from him, it just hadn’t come up.

you knew that when he did find out, though, he’d have a positive reaction.

as soon as he found out you liked to write, he was sharing your stories and poetry with the world. leaving copies of a poem in guests’ rooms or sending off your longer writings to liz for her to read when the bar wasn’t busy. he truly thought of you as an artist, often praising you for your way with words. you were worried that he might have a stroke when he discovers your paintings. most of them were of the hotel as well, which might send his soul off forever, the dead man never to be seen again.

you pushed these thoughts aside, emptying your mind as your brush glided across the textured canvas. it was like the hours flew by, and suddenly it was past midnight, the air frigid and the halls quiet. you take a moment to glance over your painting, knowing if you looked too long, you would begin to hate it. sighing, you drop your brush into a half-filled cup, headed to the bathroom to wash your hands.

upon your return, you are met with the sight of your husband’s bright smile, holding the canvas in his hands. “come, dear. did you do this?” he questions, setting the painting carefully back onto it’s easel. you shake your head, rolling your eyes, already knowing the praises to come. it wasn’t arrogance, it was predictability. stepping into his embrace, you nod. “yes. do you like it?”

like you had to ask.

“why, it’s beautiful. i’ve never seen something more elegant, i’m shocked. you are brilliant, you know that?” he answers, eyes never leaving the work of art. “i think i will keep this, once it’s dry that is. as long as it’s okay with you?” he adds before you could speak. with a shrug and a grin, you nod. “that’s fine.”

not even a week had passed, and you woke to james gone, but a brand new set of oil paints waiting for you on your dresser, paintbrushes wrapped in a satin ribbon next to them. smiling to yourself, you decide it would be nice to paint something for your husband in return of the nice gift. setting up a work station by the window, you thought of what you could paint for a man like james. of course, he’d appreciate anything from you, but you wanted it to be special. that’s when you knew.

you worked on this gift for over a week, having to hide it every time he came back to your room for the night. when it was finally perfect, you left it out on the mantle. it wasn’t much longer before he arrived, his light footsteps not being the one to give it away, but the creak of the door. you rushed to sit near the fireplace, waiting for him to notice.

“my god.”

he went straight for the painting, holding it in his hands to look over it. a portrait of the two of you. you heard nothing else from him before he was off, taking the canvas with him. you were quick to your feet, rushing out after james, following him down the hall and into the elevator. you furrow your brows, waiting in the silence of the elevator, but when the doors finally open, he’s off again.

when james finally comes to a stop, it was in front of the wood wall of the lobby. “james, what in the world are you doing?” you scoff. he waves his hand at you, bringing it back to pull a random frame from the wall, replacing it with your painting. looking to the side, you notice most of the things on the wall had been replaced by your art. framed poems and old paintings he must’ve found in the closet.

“james, don’t you think this is a bit much,” you ask, though you couldn’t help but smile at the display of your works. “nonsense. it’s not enough. i want to fill the walls with your beautiful art,” he says, finally turning to look at you. “this is incredible, you are the next monet, my love. people will come from all over the world to admire your paintings, to admire you. they’ll never be as amazed by you as i am, though.”

james could go on forever, if you let him. he was so incredibly proud of everything you’d ever done. how could he not be? you were so perfect.

i had no idea how to end this, BUT ITS PROOFREAD 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

i love him

[pencil-urchin]

Drawing of Gale I did tonight to try to cheer myself up. Based on a screenshot of Murder Daddy from @waterdeepwhiskey !

[strangererotica]

Cooper Adams headcanons (nsfw!! 18+!!)

…has his hand on your throat when he’s fucking you…not enough to cause any discomfort but enough to remind you that HE is in control…

…and speaking of control, Cooper’s absolutely got a kink for allowing you to come ONLY when HE says you can…

…big dom energy, ofc…

…bites during sex…eats you out from behind, positioned between your legs, leaving bite marks along the curve of your ass and thighs…

…BONDAGE BONDAGE BONDAGE…seeing you tied up and helpless under him gives Cooper that same sense of calm he feels when one of his victims is at his mercy, along with the added pleasure of sex…plus, the only cleanup he has to worry about afterwards is wiping his dick clean after fucking you…it’s the best of both worlds for Cooper…

…he has a better understanding of human anatomy than most because-well-yeah, Cooper is ‘The Butcher’, after all…and he expresses that extra knowledge in the way he studies your body, the shape of you, running his hands along your curves and feeling the way little goosebumps raise under his touch…

…would not object (would probably encourage) you to refer to him as ‘Master,’ or ‘Sir,’ during sex, or all the time if your relationship has a free use dynamic…

…takes you to one of his safe houses and fucks you…keeps an old blanket stashed in his trunk just for that reason, so at least he isn’t fucking you raw on a cold floor (he’s a gentleman like that…)

…enjoys using his hands to get you off…the same hands that can commit brutal acts against others are used in the most tender ways with you…delicate strokes, deliberately slow as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge, without helping you over till he shows mercy and allows you to come…

…lets you ride his face to get off…wants to be able to smell you in his stubble hours after sex has ended…

…he prefers the security of fucking you in his safe houses over a hotel (receipts, receipts) because it’s less likely his wife will learn of his infidelity (gotta keep those two lives separate, amiright…?)

…knife play…dragging the tip along your skin, his hand pressed flat to your chest…his lips twitching into a grin when he feels your heart rate kick up against his palm…knowing that with every slow, delicate pull of his blade across your flesh, he’s testing your trust in him…because at the end of the day, all Cooper really wants is for someone to see him as something more than a monster…and that someone, is you.

tagging some folks who are thirsting for murder daddy as hard as I am… 💋♥️ @babygorewhore @amethystblackkchaos @cowboynickmiller @xxbimbobunnyxx

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions Chapter 7: Keep Me On Fire

Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Word count: 3.7K

Summary: Reeling from the aftermath of the events surrounding Brad's death, our dear reader must come to terms with what might happen next and what this means for your place on Dave's team and in his life

Warnings: PiV sex, dirty talk and names, squirting, minor BDSM stuff, sexy stuff happens in this chapter, I'm not responsible for what you consume. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own.

A/N: As always, I am so humbled when any of you ever read my stuff. I also appreciate if you have followed along with me as I have built this story. I hope you will continue me to follow me along the home stretch. Also if you would like to be included on the taglist for this fic, please let me know!

Love for my magical sluts! Thank you for the encouragement and pushing me to continue this story.

@youandmeand5bucks @imalrightllama @basicoccult @legendary-pink-dot @redhotkitchen @pink-whiskey-woman @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38

Chapter 7: Keep Me On Fire

One of your co-workers picked you up from the hospital after your overnight stay there. You didn’t know who else to call. No real family to speak of, not any you cared to call anyway. You sat in silence as you stared out the passenger side window at nothing in particular. Everything at the side of the road zoomed past you in formless blurs. Every sound around you played in your ears as though filtered through a muffled speaker. Your gaze moved to your hands, and you became hyper aware of your breaths and your body. Your brain was on another plane of existence. None of this, none of anything felt real.

Bits and pieces of words and conversations interspersed between images and feelings were tossing themselves around in your mind.

“We just want to make sure we have the details right, ma’am.”

You nodded, you were still damp with dirt and tears, and your body still hurt.

“Do you mind telling us what happened?”

You shook your head.

“Brad and I just finished dinner…and we left the restaurant, I pulled him into a quiet alley---then two guys came out of nowhere and---,”

A flash of Dave standing over you, pushing you to the ground, replayed over and over in your head as tears fell down your dirty face.

“Why would you go into an empty alley?”

“Brad and I wanted some alone time.”

You didn’t care if anyone knew what that implied. He was supposed to be your boyfriend anyway. The cop who questioned you tightened his lips.

“Ok, I see.”

He wrote down something in his little notebook.

“Um, ma’am, if you are ok, would you continue please?”

That was a funny question. Of course, you weren’t OK.

“Two guys jumped out at us. One of them threw me to the ground.”

The memory of his angry eyes burned themselves into you as he held you by the wrists and tossed you to the ground.

And now you were fucking crying.

The detective handed you a tissue. Some pathetic semblance of minute caring or compassion, you supposed.

“One of them threw me to the ground…”

By now, you knew you were doing that ugly crying thing. The kind of crying where your lips were trembling, and you were gasping to breathe.

“I heard Brad, and he was struggling and then he just---just stopped…”

A nurse came to you and placed a soft hand on your back as you cried. You could feel her glare at the detective.

“They started to come at me, and I just screamed and screamed.”

“And you’re sure you couldn’t see their faces?”

Dave’s eyes were enough.

“They had masks, and it was so dark.”

You placed a hand on your head as it began to ache from all the tears. There was a dull ache in your wrist, which hurt your heart more than the body part itself.

“Detective, do you have everything you need? She really needs to rest.”

The scribble of more notes sounded out before he closed his notepad.

“Yes, I think I have it. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The detective reeked of stale coffee, cigarettes, and misplaced arrogance. The fucker had probably never been sorry about anything in his life.

“Hey, hon,” your co-worker’s calming tone snapped you back into reality, “we’re at your place.”

Through blinking eyes, you looked up to find yourself parked in front of your townhouse. Wordlessly, you began to gather your things that rested at your feet in front of the passenger seat of your co-worker’s car. Practically leaping out, she met you to open the passenger side door.

“Thank you,” you spoke quietly as you pushed yourself out of the car. “Thank you for driving me home.”

She accompanied you to your front door, kindly but also awkwardly waiting with you as you unlocked your door.

“Will you be ok?” she asked. “Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to stay with you? Just for a little while?”

“No, thank you,” the words came out with a mindless automaticity. “I just need to sleep.”

“Ok,” she murmured, concerned but unsure of the protocol or etiquette she should be following. “Well, just call if you need anything OK?”

As you walked in you wondered briefly who would be awaiting you there. Dave? No. Someone to kill you? Perhaps. Likely Resnick.

Instead, there was no one. Nothing.

The early afternoon light filtered in through the diaphanous curtains in your living room window. Everything was as you left it the night before: a book you’d been reading left askew on your living room table. A blanket left on your couch. Your bed, though made, was rumpled from where you sat. An eyeshadow palette still left on the bathroom vanity.

You reached for your face wash and haphazardly washed away any remaining makeup left on your face, not bothering to even look at yourself in the mirror. Dark remnants of mascara pressed lightly into your face towel when you pat yourself dry. Reaching into the shower you turned the handle to somewhere between hot and warm. The water rained on you as you stepped in and stared at how droplets from the water streams clung to your skin like morning dew on grass. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash---your shower was quick and functional. You dried yourself off and hung up your towel on the hook attached to your door.

You didn’t even have the strength to put on any clothes. Climbing in bed and pulling the covers up to your chest was the only action your body felt compelled to do. You snuggled in, staring at your wrists where Dave grabbed you, shook you, tossed you to the ground. Burying your face into your pillow, you took a long, slow breath as your puffy eyes grew heavy with approaching slumber.

It still smelled like Dave.

***

Wakefulness eased its way towards you, crawling up your shoulders to your neck to open your eyes. Darkness met them in a kinder way than the harsh beams of the sun normally greeted you upon waking. The time it took for your eyes to adjust to the darkness was gradual as the edges of your blackout curtains allowed only slivers of moonlight into your room. The peace of the night was broken by the incessant ringing of your camera doorbell. Bolting up, you grabbed your gun from your nightstand and covered yourself with a kimono from your closet.

The camera revealed the figure of a man dressed in black, a beanie atop his head. The devil you knew was at your door and you were ready for him. Setting your gun down, you opened the door and welcomed him. His eyes met yours and you studied each other in silence. The raise of his eyebrow, along with a smile twisted with lust accompanied the pilgrimage of his eyes over the vision of your naked body. A cruel mixture of excitement and trepidation brewed within you as he locked the door behind him.

No words were spoken. No words were needed. He was on you before you could think, his hand grabbing at your bare waist. Keeping your body pressed to his, he advanced both of you towards your living room wall. A loud crash of books on the floor along with a shaking of mirrors was only a small part of the aftermath of him pinning you there, pressing at your wrists with his hands. The force of his body sent heaving breaths of desire across your naked chest. Only seconds had passed when you felt his own hot, audible breaths keeping time with yours. Primal need seeped from his lips to yours, drawing you in further with one delicious taste of his tongue.

“Is this what you want, you little cunt?” he asked with a raspy, snarl from the back of his throat. “My pretty little whore craves the fucking danger, the adrenaline, isn’t that right?”

Dave tossed your kimono to the floor then lifted you with ease as you wrapped your legs around his waist. By now, he had memorized the path to your bedroom. So many days and nights had been spent there drowning in each other’s darkness. He tossed you on your bed and you pressed yourself up to watch him undress. Each breath you drew in grew faster and faster at each article of clothing he threw on your bedroom floor. With his beautiful body fully exposed, he leaned forward and began to crawl towards you on the bed. A devilish grin curled his lips as you spread your legs open for him. The feeling of his hands as he traced along your thighs, hips, and waist was intoxicating. They continued to travel up your body, massaging the supple tissue of your tits. You arched towards him as he pinched and swirled your nipples with sudden flicks and strokes of his tongue.

He pressed himself up with his forearms on either side of you. He gazed at you with lust-filled eyes until they settled at your right cheek where you wore a purple bruise from Resnik’s back hand. He lowered his face to yours, taking you into a deep, long kiss. When you opened your eyes, the intensity of his gaze began to melt away, lifting with his eyebrows and softening as his eyes opened and rounded at the edges. His eyes, then nose moved across the small territory of your right cheek until he lowered his lips there in the softest kiss you’ve ever felt from him.

“It’s not that bad,” you whispered, “he needed to make it believable.”

He kissed you again, heavier with this desire for you. This time his tongue setting you alight with need as he bucked his hips against your pelvis. The way his cock twitched and lifted told you how much he needed you. The journey of his eyes rested at your left wrist. He paused to take you in for a moment, his brows lowered and without words, you knew he was replaying the moment he pushed you to the ground.

“Don’t get soft on me now, York,” you commented, slowly drawing invisible swirls on his freckled shoulder with your fingertips. “It was all part of the job, right?”

“Endangering someone who’s part of the team isn’t how I operate.”

“Look at me,” you said sternly, “I’m not willing to lose y---,”

Out of self-preservation, you disallowed yourself from uttering the rest of your declaration.

“I don’t want to be a distraction.”

His right hand traveled down to your center, your breath hitching as his thumb began a slow exploration of your outer folds. He gingerly pressed his thumb to your clit, massaging it with light up and down strokes, responding to each roll and writhe of your body.

“Not a distraction,” he murmured, slowly slipping one thick finger into you, “an asset.”

The roll of your body was a signal for him to insert another finger. He began slowly at first, working both his fingers in and out of you to build  up the slick that was already beginning to weep from your core. Your pussy began to swell at the pressure building inside you. The feeling of his forehead against yours as he continued his merciless ministrations had you opening your legs wider for him. The palm of his hand twisted upward as he relentlessly maneuvered his fingers within you, curling them on the button of your sex, beckoning you to come. It was hard to process anything else than his hand working on your pleasure. You closed your eyes feeling every ounce of it collecting itself at your bundle of nerves.

“No, firefly,” he voiced, his breath warm against your ear, “open your eyes.”

Your mouth quivered with moans as you followed his directive, capturing his brown eyes with yours as you made a pathetic attempt at forming words, “Dave, I’m---ah, ah, ah!”

“That’s it, come for me,” he demanded, “fucking come all over my hand.”

As soon as his words left his lips, you were screaming and bucking your hips towards the ceiling as his fingers continued to intensify each jolt your body was already giving to him. His lips and his tongue silenced your screams with a deep kiss while your legs and pelvis bucked towards his hand as he pulled a quaking, wet orgasm from you that left your entire body shaking. He continued to kiss you as your hand searched blindly for his arm, bracing yourself with each wave of wet pleasure.

“Jesus,” you gasp between long breaths, your head still pressed to his.

“Fuck, look at you,” Dave breathed into you, “look at how your body is shaking.”

“So good Dave!!” you proclaimed, intoxicated by his sex.

A quick yelp tumbled from your breathless lips as he flipped you over onto your stomach. The shift of your knees beneath you allowed you to press your ass up towards him, wriggling with impatient want for him to split you open.

Getting on his hands and knees, he prowled and shuffled around in bed to reach over to the night stand on “his” side. For a moment you laughed with breathless desire, thinking how ridiculous it seemed that you had designated the label to this object on your own. Yet, his brain and muscle memory knew everything he kept in there. This time he reached for a set of wrist restraints, which received little use since he acquired them for the two of you. Both of you loved the raw feeling of his large, bare hands holding you down and holding you still. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were his to control.

He pushed you down further into the bed by the nape of your neck and pulled your arms behind you in a strong grip. Anticipation rose in your chest and in the quick sounds of your breath as he fastened each cuff around your wrists. With a tight grip of his hand at the base of his cock, he slapped at your pussy, reminding you that it belonged to him. The arousal that vibrated there was intensified as Dave rubbed his hard, thick cock over your wet folds with a moan so loud it echoed up the high walls of your bedroom. He slipped inside with ease and with a few hard slaps of his hand against your ass. He’d reduced you to a mess of moans in your sheets.

“Always so tight and so wet for me,” he praised, moaning with each slow, deep thrust into your pussy.

Each measured thrust he gave you set off nearly every nerve ending you had on your dewy skin. He leaned over as your hands reached out behind you searching for his touch. Large hands massaged against your ass, your waist, until they found the perfect, but temporary destination of your tits. He took a hold of each one, massaging them in his strong, capable hands as his thrusts grew more forceful and more urgent. His hands moved up to your shoulders pressing against them with deep touches of his fingers into your skin.

“Ahhh, Dave, your cock is so good!” you moaned, feeling every ridge and vein as he kept moving for you.

“You crave it, don’t you?” Dave growled as he moved to grab you by your hair. “Can’t imagine life without me fucking you?”

With a strong pull of your hair in one and a pull of the restraints in the other, he pounded into your swollen pussy. The desire to answer perched at the edge of your lips but escaped only in a chorus of moans as he continued to slam himself into you. Letting go of your hair, his hands .pressed and rolled deep into your shoulders moving down the length of your arms until his fingers were digging into your hips. He lifted his hand and drew back, sending smacks that sent a string of reverberations through to your center and stinging back into his hand. Somehow you were both moaning as he left his mark: defined, red, and in the shape of his hand. He pulled at your restraints again, this time even harder.

“Firefly…,” you felt as Dave’s words began to falter the closer he inched towards orgasm, “answer me.”

“Yes, yes, please, I need your cock!!” you cried as he continued fuck into you with such force it made your headboard and bedframe rock. you just knew you’d be sore tomorrow.

The heat was gathering at your core, like tiny fires igniting and setting new fires through your abdomen, your chest, neck, and back. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“It’s too much, please Dave, I---I can’t.”

“Not.”

Thrust

“Your.”

Thrust.

“Choice”

Thrust.

Leaning forward, he cruelly pulled out of you before you could come and flipped you over again onto your back. Crawling over you, he pushed your pelvis slightly upwards with his thighs. He hooked one arm under your knee and began to circle your swollen clit with the torturous precision of his thumb, rubbing, swirling, and swirling until he sent quivers outward through your entire body. Tears started to release from your eyes as your hands flexed and stretched beneath you, still in their restraints, desperate for any relief he was gracious enough to bestow on you. With quick slaps of his hard cock, he pushed into you once again. He met your pussy with the same power and urgency as he had when you were on your hands and knees.

“Fuck, you’re always so fucking tight for me,” he growled as his thrusts gained erratic moment. “Come all over this cock, wet your fucking cock.”

“Dave, fill me up, please!!!’ you screamed and moaned as you clenched your walls over his cock. “FUCK!!!”

The walls of your pussy choked down on his cock as the apex of your pleasure rushed in. The futility with which you pulled your wrists from each other trying to break the restraints intensified your pleasure sending a red heat rippling over your body. His eyes were fixed on yours as a gasping groan left his lips as your walls contracted around him, the hot gush of his cum warming you from the inside. Your back and chest heaved as you tried to recover from the earthquake of your orgasm. With his cock still buried deep inside you, he pressed his lips to yours, losing himself in the taste of you before burying his face in your neck. The two of you trembled from the highest peaks of your respective orgasms. He released his cock from the comfort of your warm, wet walls, drawing in a breath and letting out a whimper.

“Turn over,” he instructed with a sigh.

Spent, aching, and fucked out, you rolled over to collapse onto your stomach using what little energy reserve you had left. The feeling of his hands in the merciful act of removing the restraints had you releasing a deep sigh of relief. Your arms dropped to your sides, your left wrist stinging only slightly from where you had fallen the night before. Dave lowered himself to the bed next to you and you peered at him through the strands of hair that still covered your face. Unexpectedly, he took his hand and brushed away the hair, pushing it back and laying it lightly down your back. Closing your eyes, you savored the gentle feeling, not knowing how brief it would be or if it would ever happen again. The feeling of his hand as it traced down your neck and down the dip of your lower back sent shivers and goosebumps over every inch of you.

He brought his hand to your face, once again examining the bruise Resnick had left on your face.

“What I said earlier---,” Dave began his voice steady and stoic.

“You said a lot of things, Dave,” you replied before he could finish.

“I mean it, you need to decide if you really have the stomach for this,” Dave warned, his voice stern and teetering on the edge of regret, “I can’t have people on my team who I can’t rely on and who I can’t trust.”

Opening your eyes, you propped yourself up and scooted closer to him, “What’s the point in even giving me a second chance?”

He breathed you in as you inched closer, your legs beginning to tangle in his, “I know what you’re capable of; your skills would fill a void in the team.” 

“I need the team to listen to me when I have the right intel,” you enjoined, running fingers along his forearm, “not just because I’m fucking you.”

“It’ll happen,” Dave assured as he sat up, leaning against the soft headboard of your bed. “Anyone who judges you by the person you’re with is a fucking idiot.”

The person you’re with. The person you’re with. The person you’re with.

You would have given everything to stay in this moment in time, just to hear those words again and again.

Dwelling on what he said would have driven you insane, instead you tried to refocus your attention on more professional matters.

“Applies to you, too,” you voiced as you sat up, kicking your legs in front of you to face him. “I can’t be responsible for people who don’t trust me and the information I supply.”

You pressed your chest to your thighs and rested your arms across your knees.

“Is that so?” his eyes were affixed to you as he pressed a hand to your ankle.

He massaged your calf up to your knee, pushing your legs slightly apart with a strong nudge of his hand.

“Come here,” he beckoned with his touch, gesturing for you to take your rightful place in his lap.

His hands kneaded and gripped the soft skin of your ass, as he guided you to sit over him in a straddle.

“I mean it, Dave,” you steadied your words by squeezing his thighs with yours.

“How about this: The day I don’t listen to you,” he started, looking up at you with his hand gripping the back of your neck while his thumb caressed your jaw, “if shit hits the fan, you can always tell me I told you so.”

You brought your hand to his, rubbing his forearms, his biceps, and shoulders with tender hands. With a nod, you kissed him, withholding any further discussion on the subject for the time being. While the answer wasn’t quite good enough for you, for now, it would have to do.

[magpiepills]

Strange Currencies

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Dave York x f intruder reader

Word count: 700

Summary: Dave should have been more careful.

Warnings: SMUT, non con, dark reader, bondage, edging, PIV, alcohol, mention of weapons, but they aren’t used, hand jobs, drugging, slapping, dacryphilia, mystery, idk what else. Don’t read this if it may be triggering to you! I think it’s fairly tame despite the warnings, but I can’t make that call for you.

A word from the author: I got carried away in a reblog and now I have written a shortie wherein Murder Daddy is tied up and edged until he cries. It’s non con, but he is into it? I don’t know what else to say. There might be more to this later. I have an idea cooking. No promises though. The proverbial fire has a whole lot of sticks in it.

Dave comes home to a dark house. Carol and the kids are gone for the weekend, leaving him with the house to himself. He pulls off his beanie and tosses it onto the cluttered kitchen table, then carefully cleans and puts away his weapons in the hidden safe. He knows he wasn’t followed, he is always careful. You have to be in his line of work. At last he lets himself relax.

As he’s pouring himself a second glass of bourbon, enjoying the quiet and solitude, he hears the floor creak behind him. She’s been biding her time, waiting in the dark. He can’t react fast enough, the rag is over his nose and his vision blurs before everything turns black.

When Dave comes-to he is tied to the bed, wrists bound together above his head, stripped naked. He is still for a few moments, blinking groggily and trying to make sense of his surroundings. He wants to rub his eyes but he can’t move his arms. Panic grips him when he realizes his predicament. He tries to jerk free, but she’s straddling his thighs and her knots are secure.

She’s naked on top of him, save for a black mask over her eyes. He can’t help that he’s hard. She smiles at him, and reaches behind her for something. A soft click and a cool drip along his length, she spreads a generous amount of lube over his cock- and it has to be a lot to really coat all of him. He’s easily one of the biggest she’s ever seen, thick from base to tip and uncut. She uses both hands to slowly stroke him, lube dripping over her fingers as she works him messily.

He closes his eyes and tries to reconcile whatever is happening right now with the way he needs to come. She’s twisting and stroking and the sensations are making his whole body buzz. He raises his hips, silently begging for more, loving and hating every moment of whatever the fuck is happening to him right now. He can’t think. His brain is blank as he hurtles toward release and then her hands are gone. His eyes are wide, and he stammers.

Nothing makes sense, his orgasm snatched away, and a sharp slap lands across his cheek. He gasps and whimpers, his cock twitches against his sweat-damp belly.

Tense moments pass, he tries to calm himself, but his cock doesn’t get the message.

He moans weakly when her warm grip returns, varying speeds, spit dripping from her mouth to join the abundance of lube and pre-cum he has leaked. The sound is lewd.

Dave twists against the restraints, to no avail. He is helpless in every way, and he’s close to his climax again. He’s panting and begging, but again she stops, and his other cheek gets a matching slap. He growls, frustrated and furious at the position he has found himself in. He is rewarded with a pinch of his nipple.

She hasn’t said a word, but he can feel her own wetness dripping between his thighs. She repeats the routine again, and he knows this time that she won’t let him come.

Silent tears roll down his cheeks, he is defeated. He closes his eyes, and with a wavering voice, he begs her. “What do you want from me? Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

She doesn’t answer, of course she doesn’t. But now she is sliding upward, her hands on his chest, her soaked and swollen folds gliding over his engorged length, she teases her clit with he fat head of his cock before angling her hips and spearing herself on his turgid member.

Dave is watching, and he feels somehow outside of himself. As if he is watching long this happened to someone else. His eyes are glazed, glued to her cunt, taking him completely, squeezing him tightly.

She rolls her hips and uses him, makes herself come with her head dropped back, fingers digging into his chest.

He wants so badly to take control. He wants to grip her waist and guide her up and down at his pace. He wants to hold those tits in his hands, have those nipples in his mouth.

When he comes, heavy balls pulling tight as he empties, she presses him deep, right against her cervix. He lets his head drop back onto his pillow.

What the fuck? He repeats over and over in his mind. He’s catching his breath, only vaguely aware of the motion around him, and suddenly his hands are free. His training kicks in and he grabs his captor, slamming her onto the bed with a grunt and snatching the mask from her face. His eyes go wide and his heart lurches.

“You.”

[mrs-solo-walker]

i wanna sit on is lap so bad

[gmbencompetence]

I comissioned an artist, Hunnybear, to make art of Count Strahd that I could use to promote my professional GMing. Man oh man, did he ever deliver. 😍 I am absolutely in love with this. 💜

(Also, feel free to check out said GMing here!)

[chief-girl]

OK Mox 👀

[babygorewhore]

Can you please do a moodboard with murder daddy with a ultraviolence (the album) kinda vibe? ly 💌

Anything for you darling!!!! ILY!!! I hope you like it!!!!

“Darling. You are a revelation.”

Murder daddy is just 🫦 thank you @scene-and-dandylover for helping me!!!!

[spookyxsam]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers.

Oooo, fun ask @sixhours!

Let’s see…five things that make me happy, in no particular order 😊

-Pedro. That sweet, middle aged, baby cow-eyed, sex on legs walking best hug EVER. Because of you, I have this fandom and more thots than I know what to do with. An ever growing cycle of blorbos to hyperfixate on, you’re the gift that keeps on giving. This weeks special…murder daddy 😉

-All things strange, unusual or spooky 🖤

-Working in mental health and actively trying to end the stigma surrounding it through each patient I treat.

-My hubby and sassy as hell daughter. Most days 😬

And last, but certainly not least…

SMUT. Good ol book porn. I’m an equal opportunity reader with very few hard passes (already on the therapy agenda, don’t worry) and some of you GLORIOUS writers have done more for me in the bedroom than PornForHer and my vibrator ever could. My husband also thanks you 🙌🏼 😂

[massivedreamer]

THREE DAYS

Pairing: Dave York x Cartel boss Fem!Reader

Summary: The greatest thing Dave York will ever learn is to be loved… and to love in return.

Rating: E

Word count: 6,304

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS, language and explicit content, no age gap, no use of y/n, use of a nickname, no physical description. Kidnapping and captivity (don’t worry, David's a big boy and it all ends up consensually), mentions of corruption, drugs, violence, prostitution, child trafficking, illicit activities in general, infidelity, invasion to privacy, masturbation (male/female), unprotected p in v (don't do it at home, kids), rough sex turns vanilla cause two baddies are in love, face riding, doggy style, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, cream pie, emotional orgasm. I think that covers it all.

A/N: This is some psycho killer rom com fever, I have no idea where it all came from but I'm a Pisces so there's that.

My first fic in a long, loooong time and my first Pedro's boys related tale. Encouraged to go back to the writing path by the lovely @lavendertales. English is not my native language, so please, forgive any trespassing. Written for the @pedrostories 's celebration (Did I make it before the deadline??)

Hope you like it and do let me know what you all think!

Yes, there's also a PLAYLIST

The kidnapping was the easiest part. Dave York´s daily routine must have been as predictable as his sex life with the wifey. It was disappointing, really. Your team had only surveillanced him for a couple of days and got his schedules and routes all figured out. For a DIA agent, not to mention a DIA agent-turned-mercenary, he had been sloppy. Lazy. The enemies gained through so many years of being a traitor and a greedy scumbag were all out there. Did he really think he was safe living his suburban life? Wasn't he scared his side job would have consequences at any point?

Did Dave York really consider the possibility of you forgetting him? 

Of course, you sent Chet. He was your chosen brother, your lieutenant, your most loyal dog. Even though he could have done it alone, he took three of the new boys with him. He had personally trained them and thought this task as their perfect baptism of fire. The jet would be waiting. Your newest runway for the Washington deliveries, paid by unaware constituents, would be ready for the illegal flight in which only Dave would be sent to California. To the mansion/dungeon they had just finished building according to your specifications, somewhere in the desert. 

-“Not again…” said Dave, rather calmly and through the hood once he could sit up and hear Chet´s voice. He could recognize that ridiculous high pitched male tone anywhere. “¿What the fuck does she want now?” 

–” I don´t know, York. And it's not my place to give a fuck. But I hope it hurts”. Chet turned to the driver and whispered instructions on how to get to the private tarmac, fast but inconspicuously. 

Dave chuckled and kept his cool, but on the inside, he began to worry. They had seized and crushed his iPhone as soon as they got him in the truck. Carol would soon start freaking out if he didn't answer her messages. Why the hell didn't he bring the satellite tracker today? He tried to guess where they were going, paying attention to the stops, the turns, the sounds. He could definitely recognize when they were passing Constitution Ave. But that was it. He had the feeling the directions Chet was giving the driver were solely to confuse him. After a while, the rhythm of the vehicle became monotone. They were cruising a highway. But, which one? Nevermind. It was obvious that the destination was in the outskirts of DC. 

- “Out, York!” 

Trying to deliver his most menacing voice, Chet yanked Dave by the arm and handed him to someone else. The highway trip was about 20 minutes and even though he was still with his head covered, it didn't take too much effort for him to realize they had arrived in some sort of an airport. She is definitely thriving. 

- “I guess we´re not going to Cozum…?”

Dave didn't have the chance to finish the joke. The needle did its job perfectly. You couldn't risk your favorite bad boy using his legendary photographic memory, not even from the air. 

A white room.

A bed. 

A chair.

One small window.

Sunlight.

What time was it? What day was it?

Shit. Dave opened his eyes and before moving a muscle, he quickly scanned his surroundings. He had to make sure he was the only one in that cell. Because that's where he was. You had put him behind fucking bars. He´d be lying if he hadn't considered the possibility of going to prison someday. But that you were going to be his judge, jury and executor? 

In the upper left corner of the locked room, there was a discreet, up-to-date camera that definitely recorded sound. Two speakers, matching the color of the walls, were hanging at each side of the bed. It was a California King Size. All of the sudden, Donna Summer’s “Love to Love You, Baby” started blasting through them. Dave sat up and some obscene flashes from the recent past slapped his memory. And, unexpectedly, fueled his groin. 

-”There´s not coming back from this. Did you know that, right?” – Dave spoke over the loud music, not sure if you were able to hear him. “You kidnapped a federal agent. You´re fucked!”   

Donna stopped abruptly but you continued the singing. You always had a lovely voice. In another life, you could have been a terrific singer. “IIIIIIII… love to love you babyyyy…!” 

“Did you change your number?” – you asked, with a fake curiosity. “I cannot seem to reach you anymore…” You sighed, almost moaned. 

“I only updated my spam call list” – Dave answered, nonchalantly. “What do you want, Killer Q?”

“ I can’t stop thinking about you” 

“ Awww...  You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby…” – Dave laughed. 

That laughter hurt. Look at what this motherfucker does to you. One year ago, you were the most ruthless woman that had ever set foot in the drug trafficking industrial complex. As a boss. And in the US, of all places. Your facade of a succesful businesswoman, though a cliché, was more than efficient. The reality was that you had become the cocaine Godmother, the meth Empress, the Goddess of opioid. Your name had started to be known across the substances’ world, with a reputation forged under seas of blood. Every single poor devil, with so little brain to disrespect you and everything you had to go through to get where you were, was either impaired or underneath some surface. 

And you were a witty bitch. While supervising the traditional kneecapping session reserved for dealers with dreams of entrepreneurism, you love to deliver some really funny lines. And yet, Dave York mocking you, left you speechless.

“Well, if the mountain will not come to Muhammad, then I guess Muhammad must kidnap the mountain…” – You were back. 

“I thought we were done doing business” – Dave started losing his confidence. Not knowing what the hell you wanted started to have its effect on him. Deep down, and after all he had seen and heard, he had to admit he was a bit afraid of you.

“Business?” – you tried to disguise your vulnerability. “So, I’m just another deal to you, huh? 

“Yes…" –Dave looked at the ceiling – "And no? I thought you and I were benefiting from each other AND having fun.” 

There was a silence that, by no means, you intended to float so heavy in the air.

“Well, I guess for me… it turned into something more than entertainment…” 

You had to close the mic to drink from the Evian bottle. You hadn’t planned to spill your truth in the first minute of conversation but there you were. Finally, admitting it. Out loud.

Were you going to say the word though? One thing was for sure: you had never felt like this. Let's be honest: a 13 year old, lured out of her miserable home, from a miserable town, having her soul ripped by men and their huffs and grunts, every single night, for a decade, was never meant to be the fairytale princess archetype. And other 10 years of her life, just surviving, lowering her head, listening to the important conversations, connecting with the right people, even escaping slavery through a marriage of convenience with a kingpin, didn’t contribute much to her personal knowledge of what love was. Or is? 

“Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” – you demanded. 

“What do you want me to say?” – Sat at the edge of the bed and in the absence of the woman confessing such feelings for him, Dave just kept staring at the wall. “That I still don’t know why I’m here?”

“Oh you do…” – you sounded darker – “Think”

“Wait… Do you wanna have sex with me, Killer Q? Is that it?” 

Now you were the one laughing. 

“Oh my God… Men. Why are you all so basic? – You were enjoying this – Do you really think that if I only wanted to fuck you, you’d be in that cell, without me all over you? C’mon, try harder, York…” 

“Do I really have a choice…?” Dave mumbled.

He sighed and stood up, his brain trying to come up with what scheme could be the closest to the one in your mind. You made it clear it wasn’t sex. Money, maybe? Extortion. You were infatuated and planning to send some incriminating material to Carol. You surely could have set up the equipment to record your encounters. Vegas? Last Spring? That’s when Donna played over and over, right? Memorable. 

You watched through the monitor and smiled at the sight of the supposedly cold mercenary, slightly blushing. 

“What do you feel for me, Dave?” 

“Right now, I hate you.” 

“I doubt that, baby… I got a better idea. It’s getting late, I’m tired and I need to go to bed. It’s sad we can’t share it yet. We will. But first you´ll have to seriously examine your actions, thoughts and, most importantly, your feelings in the recent time" – you took a long pause – "so you can be more honest with your responses in the next three days we’ll spend together. Night night, David” 

"What? Wait! Three whole motherfucking days here?!” Dave was equally outraged and concerned. “I’m hungry! And…” - he hesitated and lowered his voice – “What about going to the bathroom and…?”

Two sliding doors opened almost in unison. One, small and by the bed, produced a tray with some delicious seafood dish, a glass of Chardonnay and a generous portion of Creme Brulee. The other entrance, bigger and near the main gate, showed him a luxurious bathroom, with a change of comfortable clothes and toiletries.

“You have two hours until the lights are off”

Day ONE

Daylight bathed the cell and Dave was surprised by how soundly he had slept. It must have been some residual effect from whatever tranquilizer they gave him before getting him in the jet. Or was it maybe that he felt comfortable? Bullshit. He was the renowned CIA agent David York and this was a dangerous situation. Even infatuated as you claimed to be, you were a threat. And, come on… you didn’t mean anything to him. He’s had his pretty decent share of affairs and he had come to terms with his cheating asshole condition. You were no different from the parade of office girls who begged on their knees for one more night of cuffs, lube and discarded condoms, right?

Right.

Still in bed, Dave looked longingly in the direction of the food door, mentally begging for a black coffee, no sugar, scrambled eggs and bacon. Not knowing the time was slowly driving him crazy. He trusted his appetite and the sun elevation angle to say it was close to noon. Of who knows what day but it was something. He went to the bathroom and freshened up.

“Uhmm.. Hello?” — Dave talked to the air, in the hopes you presented once more, vocally. Not that he was particularly interested in hearing your voice again or anything. “I could use some breakfast, you know? By the way, dinner last night was awesome. If you tell me where we are, I would highly recommend this place on TripAdvisor!” 

Nothing.

Nada.

Wait.

There was something.

Suddenly, and as if he was in a real hotel and some nextdoor honeymooners were doing what honeymooners usually do in hotels, Dave started to hear some lewd sounds coming from somewhere nearby. At first, it was barely audible, which made it difficult to pinpoint the source. But it rose to a crescendo, getting higher, clearer. Hotter. Dave realized it was not coming from any place near the cell but from the speakers crowning his prisoner bed. 

“Give it to me, daddy…! Ohh…Fuckfuckfuckfuck… Yesyesyesyeyes!”

It was you. You were fucking some random dude and broadcasting it live and in stereo. For him to be the only audience.

"Ooooh Gooood…Yeaaah… Harder! Please! Please! Pleaaaase! I’m so close! Make me come! No one can make me come like you, daddy…!” 

Dave was standing in the middle of the room, hands on the hips, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief. If this was your strategy, it was beyond pathetic. The skin slapping skin sound was getting louder and faster. You sounded so satisfied, kept moaning and begging. Dave had to admit that the guy was doing a great job. He wasn’t saying a word, he was just panting and grunting. There was something about him though. The noises he was making, the pace he was fucking you… The only sexual activity Dave had eavesdropped in his life was his dorm roommate, back in college, 25 years ago. And after all that time, he still recalled it was a lousy job. So, even though there were no parameters to be based on, in this case, Dave could strangely tell, just by listening to his performance, that for this guy it wasn’t just sex. What a loser, putting so much care into making you come, probably watching your face in ecstasy, proud of himself, thinking you’d adore him afterwards…

You came. Hard. 

“What are you doing?” – Dave was done.

A giant screen popped up from one of the walls, revealing some truly NSFW scenes. So it was not just audio after all. There you were… and Dave York, fucking you senseless, chasing his own high in that Colorado cabin, last time you were together. 

“You mean, what are we doing?” – you sounded so full of yourself. 

“Take it off” – He was watching the video, weirdly mesmerized. - “Take. It. Off”

“Oh but here comes the best part! - You imitated a little girl who didn’t want to go to sleep.

“Take it off. Or I will “ – Dave grabbed the chair and walked in a menacing way towards the screen.

His movements in the video were frantic. His beautifully formed butt, hammering between your legs, was the star of the piece.  He was about to watch himself reaching orgasm, with a woman who wasn’t his wife. What a piece of shit he was.

“Ooooh fuuuuuuck… unnngh… I fuck…ing.. I... fucking LOVE YOU…”

Dave dropped the chair and the screen went to black. It’s not that he didn’t remember saying that. The problem was that he had been trying to forget that he said it. He composed himself.

“You gotta be kidding me…” – he chuckled and calmly returned the chair to its place – “Really? What’s your point with all this?” 

“I think it’s quite obvious, David” – you lit up a cigarette and reclined in your leather armchair. 

“You know? I thought you were crazy, but with this, you’ve exceeded my expectations”  – Dave didn’t try to conceal his rage anymore – “Do you really believe that the shit we say during sex is meaningful?!”

“I have a question for you, Dave. If this thing between us was nothing, why didn’t you stop calling me? Because let me remind you that it was you who looked for me. Not the other way around” 

You were right. He desperately tried to find a plausible answer to your question. “Well, I guess it´s because you´re a great fuck, Q.”

“I am. In fact, I absolutely excel in bed. ” – You paused – “And yet, none of all the men I’ve been with, not a single one of those motherfuckers really wanted to see me again after a couple of times” 

Dave remained in silence.

“Oh but you were only ‘having fun’ with me for, what? Almost 2 years now? – Yes, you were counting –  “Until you cut me off completely, last week. Excuse me for only being sensical at reading this situation, York"

He had to admit you were right.

 “So tell me… What happened? Little Carol found out about your feelings?”

“Don’t you bring Carol into this…”

“Oh but she already is! What was it? – You fake a gasp – Did you say my name while making love to her tenderly…?”

“Shut up!” – Dave almost growled. 

“Sorry” – you said, sincerely.

“What?” 

“I don’t want to antagonize you, Dave. It’s just…”

“Yeah. I guess that’s why you kidnapped me…” 

“You gave me no choice, Dave. Look, I know you think I’m a heartless woman. I myself thought I was. This is my desperate measure, to my desperate times. I love you. – You fought the impending tears with all your strength – And call me crazy all you want, but I know for sure you love me back. That’s why you ghosted me. It scares the shit out of you feeling something like this for someone like me.”

Dave couldn’t think of any explanatory response. Because, in fact, he had none.

The little door suddenly opened, showing a bistec with a colorful salad, his non-optional lunch offer for the day, that went uneventful after your mic turned off.   

Day TWO

Nothing had happened since the dawn of that second day. Dave hoped you were having second thoughts and maybe were planning on releasing him. He also questioned himself if that’s what he wanted. After a quick shower, he noticed night had finally fallen in whatever place this majestic prison was located. He had no clue what time it was and, honestly, he didn’t give a fuck anymore. While laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, which was the only entertainment he could find, Carol and the girls suddenly came to his mind. What would they be doing right now? He felt for them. Even though he had long come to accept that he didn’t love Carol anymore, he truly valued her. She was a great woman, a perfect mother, and at this point, a resilient wife. And his daughters… They were the most beautiful beings he could have produced and the only decent footprint he will leave on this Earth. What would they think of him if he divorced their mom? Dave mentally punched himself for considering that.

Complete darkness swallowed the cell. Of course, it was getting late for the daily event. All lights went dead except for the big screen that suddenly started showing some CCTV images. It was Dave’s street. 

“Have you been to my home too, Q? Pfff, I don’t know why I’m surprised…”

There was not a comeback from your part. 

After a few minutes, it was clear that the footage was an edition from different days, but at similar hours. Dave realized that in those cuts there was something concerning. The same man appeared  to be jogging, but discreetly glancing at his house. Everyday. He was wearing different sporty outfits and anyone could think he was simply a neighbor trying to be fit. But for the trained eye of Dave York, it was easy to understand that that guy was something else. Something dangerous.

“Do you remember the job I got you, 6 months ago, for that Qatar minister? You and your men failed, Dave. They launched an investigation over the dude. And he eventually had to resign. Guess what? He isn’t the forgiving type. He came to me and asked for your personal inform…”

“You put my family in danger, you fucking psycho?!” Have you lost your mind?

“Do you really think that your family would still be alive had I done that, York? 

“Q, you have to let me go” – Dave didn't want to joke anymore – “I need to warn them. Please, let me just do this and I promise, I swear on their lives, you can do whatever you want with me afterwards. Please.” 

That pleading made you fall even more in love with him. 

Dave kept watching the footage, terrified of what could be coming next. The video was fast forwarded and he could see as the jogger, who was running his usual target street, crouched and pretended to tie his shoelaces. All of the sudden, he disappeared behind a white van that passed by him and slowed down right where he was. He never reappeared after the van kept on going. A knife was left abandoned on the pavement. Exactly 15 seconds after that, the Mercedes with Carol and the girls turned around the corner, coming back from school. Now Dave remembered the night his wife had commented how weird it was finding that knife in the middle of their street. Dave didn't think anything of it.

"Sometimes I ponder how easy and convenient it would've been for me to let that "tragedy" to happen"

"What about Al-Salim? He could send more people…"

"He fell into depression. And sadly took his own life back in Qatar, the very afternoon this healthy man suffered a heart attack, at the entrance of the George Washington hospital. Dark coincidence, don't you think?"

Dave was at a loss for words for the longest moment. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you’d done for his family. For him. 

"I guess… you don't need my services anymore. It seems like now I can hire you for this kind of job. Thank you, Q" 

The screen went dead and it was pitch black again. Dave didn't know what to expect anymore.

"Aren't you curious about how I hacked your security camera?  And your home intranet, DIA agent?" – your tone was playful again.

Your voice wasn’t coming through the speakers anymore but from right outside his cell. Like in a theatrical performance, the beam of a projector somehow lit up only you and your body. There you were, no make up, loose hair, sitting on a kitchen chair and wearing nothing but a white long dress. The powerful lightning made you look like a sexy specter. 

“How are you Dave? Comfortable, I hope” – You crossed your legs and adopted the pose of a therapist who was about to have her first session with a new patient. 

“I’m sitting in the dark. I like it” – Dave was not lying. 

“I suppose you do. Tell me, do you also sit in the dark at home, late at night, when you Google me?

“Oh, please… Don’t flatter yourself, Killer Q”

“Please, your Honor! I have some unmistakable evidence to substantiate my case…”

You stood up and the projector revealed, over your curves, recordings from a computer screen, where your name appeared, over and over again, in searchings with a variety of word combinations that ultimately lead to the same topic: your romantic life. Your name + the terms “boyfriend”, “dating”, “partners”, “love life”, “marriage plans”, “past relationships”. 

 Dave felt his face on fire and thanked the darkness for concealing it.

“That could be anyone's computer”

The images of the hacked screen then changed to a divided layout of his deceitful puppy eyes, his hands on the keyboard in which he was entering the terms, all matching the dates and times of the searches you previously and sensually had helped showcasing. 

“I think that’s your computer, agent York.”

You got up and came closer to the cell, took down the dress straps, one at the time, and let it fall to the floor. You could barely see Dave but you could sense his eyes roaming your naked body. Neither of you said a word. You ceremoniously came back to the chair and sat again, feeling the wetness that had been accumulating since he had thanked you for saving his family. 

“I just know it, Dave. Please, just say it” – you begged with hooded eyes.

The projector was now bathing you with a soft shade of pink, matching the glistening between your legs, on full display for your prisoner to see. When you started circling your clit, your nipples rock hard even before getting undressed, you knew you were not going to last. On the other side of the bars, Dave was breathing heavily and his bulge began pulsing. He didn’t want to, he couldn’t give in to the need to pull his cock out and get himself off to the magnificent scene he was witnessing. He had always thought your body was glorious, even with your scars. Maybe, because of them. 

“Baby… Mmmm… can’t you see? This is… all… yours… Oh… I… am yours…”

You were stabbing your cunt with two fingers, curving them at the right place, at the right rhythm. The sounds you were making, increasingly wetter, desperately faster. One foot on the ground, the other stepping on the spindle, you had definitely used that wooden chair for sinful exercises before. And your moans echoed in the room where Dave was. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, gulping and palming himself, fully erect and finally doing what he very much had resisted. You could hear him and it turned you on even more. Almost standing up, you went back to your clit, frantically rubbing it, keeping your eyes fixed in Dave’s direction. When he saw you come, it was like looking at some goddess sculpture, with a gaping mouth expression, frozen in ecstasy for a few seconds, screaming his name right after. Spitting his hand and fisting himself, once, twice, thrice, Dave spilled his seed all over the tile floor. Panting and slightly sweating, still in the dark, he watched you approach the cell again, still naked and with a satisfied grin on your face. Your hand, still covered in your juices, went straight to grab one of the door metal bars and smudge it with your flavor. Then, you picked up your dress, gave Dave one last look and left. Everything went dark again. But before any light would turn on and gave him away, Dave rushed to the door and licked what you had left for him.   

Later in the shower he had to take care of himself for a second time.  

Day THREE

A huge smash woke Dave from one of the best sleepings he had had in a long time. The lack of proper rest in the past 48 hours had been highly balanced out by the self pleasure activities shared with you the previous night. In his haze, he could hear that there was some commotion out there but, again, he was unable to determine the source. “What is it gonna be today…” He rubbed his eyes and then rolled them. 

Dave stood up and walked to the door, grabbed the bars and listened closely. There were two voices. They were arguing. And it didn’t sound pretty. “You don’t understand! It’s not because of you! That was definitely your voice. “Why the fuck do you even bother? With him? I always stood by you, you ungrateful bitch…!” 

Chet. 

Wait. Was that a lovers�� quarrel? Dave was baffled. He had always thought your loyal lieutenant was a rampant homosexual.  “Chet, stop it, please!” You sounded more and more scared, on the verge of tears, almost. Dave’s heart started racing, his knuckles turning white while squeezing the bars of the door. It was like Chet was bringing the whole house down. Glass crashing, furniture flying, walls being punched. Then Dave heard a slap and a muffled gasp. And he lost it. 

“Cheeeet! You coward piece of shit, leave her alone!!! You want me??? Here I am!! Come and get me, fucker!!!” 

Dave started furiously kicking the bars, of course, to no avail. He searched and searched, for some sign of a door opening device, while he kept hearing your screamings. He scanned the cell and looked at the chair. The window. He probably was not going to be able to break it, or fit into it but at that point anything was worth trying. He stepped on the chair when suddenly everything went quiet. Fearing the worst, he stepped down. The screen turned on and there it was your face. Dave York never thought the day would come when he’d get to see you in such a state. Your hair in disarray, reddened puffy eyes, bloody lips and sheer terror plastered in your expresion. Still so beautiful. You were whispering to the camera installed in the control room from where you clearly operated all these days, looking to your side every five seconds, afraid of Chet entering any minute. 

“I’m so sorry Dave! – you were sobbing but quickly tried to get yourself together – “There’s a panel… uhm… hidden, on the inside wall… it's the right side… No! Sorry! Sorry! Left side by the cell door! You give it a little push and…” – you froze and glanced at your flank –  “It will show a big red button…You push it and it will open the door. Please, you gotta help me, please! He’s gonna kill me, Dave…! Forgive me, I was so stup…”

Suddenly, a giant hand grabbed you by the hair and yanked you out of the frame. The screen went dark.

Dave heard three gunshots somewhere nearby.

He rushed to the door and followed your instructions. Once he was free he ran like a madman. He didn’t recognize himself, feeling a desperation so uncommon for a cold mercenary like he had been for so long. It was corridor after corridor, and they all looked the same. The walls were slightly curved, lacking any pictures or decoration. The little windows above his head, just like in his cell, provided great lightning, but he couldn't help thinking it was like being inside a pantheon. He tried one door, then another. And another. They were all locked. It resembled a mental facility, Greek style. At last, Dave reached a T turn and when he looked, it was a long corridor on both sides. But to the left there was something he hadn't encountered so far: an opened door. In fact, it was ajar. Dave came to the frightening realization that Chet could still be around, armed. While he only had his bare hands. He cautiously entered and came across your control center. A dozen monitors, a camera, a microphone and a tumbled armchair. Some screens were still transmitting video from different parts of the house and Dave instinctively looked for the one broadcasting from his dungeon. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you, laying still on the California King. Dave didn’t stay to check on your state through the monitor but ran through the door and raced the corridors again, trying to remember the path back to the place he had been for the past three days. Were you passed out? Or were you dead? Focus, Dave. Hurry up. 

“Wow. For someone who only had fun with me, that’s… pretty moving, baby”

Dave had run so fast the last part of the hallway leading to the cell, that he virtually bounced on the ending wall. It would’ve been almost comedical if he hadn’t launched like an animal to the now closed jail door. When he desperately looked inside it, there you were. Unharmed, gorgeous, laying on your belly holding your head with your hands, looking at Dave with innocent eyes. Naked. He was trying to catch his breath, holding the metal bars, looking down. A smile, one that you had never seen on him, appeared on his face when he lifted his head and gazed at you. 

“Let me in” – Dave said in a deep whisper. His smile was gone and his eyes were almost black. 

“Have you had enough time to think about our conversations…?” 

“Let me in” 

“You know? I’m not so sure… What are your plans to spend this lovely afternoon in this cozy space with… me?”

“I want to eat”

Your cunt pulsed at those words. Dave looked indeed like a vampire.

You stood up and went to the opening panel, taking your time, walking painfully close to Dave, cold metal as the only barrier preventing him from pouncing on you. You finally gave a push to the red button and the cell was open. Dave stood still, leaning on the threshold. 

“This isn't what I signed up for when I joined the DIA”

“What?  Consorting with criminals…?”

“Falling for the fiercest of them” 

Dave charged and lifted you in one powerful move. And you held onto him for dear life, your mouth colliding with his, so happy you could cry. You locked your legs around him while he carried you until you both crashed against the nearest wall. Dave stopped for air. He caressed your cheek and took a good look at your face, every inch of it, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. He once again tried to devour your lips but you put your fingers on his mouth. 

“Wait... Can I ask you something?

“Fire up” 

You both giggled.

“I don’t want you to fuck me…” 

“But…” 

“I want you to make love to me”

Dave's perplexed reaction turned to a sassy one. 

“How many orgasms do you think you can handle?”

“Five”

“I like those odds” 

He put you down, laid back on the bed and went upwards in the direction of the headboard. 

“Up, Q”

You moaned loudly when you sat on his face and Dave started his attack on your pussy. His tongue had been there hundreds of times now. And yet it felt like it was the first time he was licking and sucking your folds like that. 

“Oh my.. God… Dave… Keep going, like that, please, oooh please…!”

His brown eyes alternated between being open and fixed on you and closed due to the pleasure. The noises he was making, how your juices began dripping down his stubble, the way he was gripping your thighs, everything had you riding him like there was no tomorrow. 

“Dave, baby… Unnngh… I’m… Mmmmcoming… Please, make me come…”

Instead of fulfilling your wish, he pushed you away, making you lose your balance and falling on your back. But you didn’t even have time to protest since Dave was on you again, turning you around, on all fours. You felt his still clothed erection grazing your ass. 

“Are you ready to receive my love, Q…? – He cooed in your ear. 

“Yes, yes, YES!”

“All of it?”

“Give it to me…” –you sounded almost pathetic. 

You heard him taking off his shirt and sweatpants and then slapping his cock. Ass up, your wetness was now going down your legs. Proudly licking his lips, where he could still taste you, Dave teased your entrance with the tip of his length and you squeezed the sheets in desperation. You cried his name when he entered you and couldn’t breath when he started his thrusting. Slapslapslapslap. His big hands sank in your flesh, keeping you in place so your face was pressed to the mattress, muffling your whimpers. Dave then lifted you, tenderly embracing you from behind and also reaching your clit and circling it with expertise. 

“Are you close, baby? Hmmm? Talk to me…” 

“Yes baby, I think I’m… explode… am” – you weren’t coherent anymore.

“Lay back…”

He gently pulled you back, making you lean on him, both now seated on the bed.

“Open your legs, Q. Open them wide”

You obeyed. Dave put one hand on the bed for support and the other one went straight between your legs. When you realized what he had in mind, you granted him more access, placing your hips forward. 

 “Two. Or three?” 

“Three… is my lucky… number” 

He then started fingering you. He went in and out frantically, making sure he was properly hooking his fingers to get to the patch of heaven inside your vagina. Your eyes went to the back of your head and you were unable to make any sound. Dave wished there was a mirror in front of the two of you so he could witness your cute O face. All of the sudden, a loud squelching echoed across the room and Dave grinned in anticipation. 

“Here it comes, baby. Alright baby, alright, baby. Come on now” 

“Ooooohhh mmmm... Ghhhhhhhaaaaah!!!!!

You felt indeed like something had exploded out of you. It was liquid pleasure like you had never experienced before. It kept on leaking, down your legs, down the bed, down Dave´s hand. You weren’t sure how to feel or what to do next. Dave continued encouraging you, kissing your earlobe and cradling you in his chest, waiting for you to get down from your high. When you were back on Earth again, you turned around and looked him in the eye.

“Love me, Dave”

He flipped you over, kissed you lovingly, fist himself a couple of times and entered you. His pace was now slow, with a calm he had barely known in his whole life, in any aspect of it. How long he’d pretended you were merely a substance trader who happened to cross his path of illicit choices. You kept your eyes open. You wanted to make sure he was there, that he was real. That he was David York. The mercenary, the federal impostor, the cheating husband, the lover you never thought you deserve. That this wasn’t another of your sex fantasies at night. 

“I love you, Killer Q”

Dave increased his rhythm. 

“Say it again”

“I. Fuckin. Love. You”

“Come for me, daddy”

Dave thrusts became erratic, his breathing increasingly difficult. You held his face, forcing him to look at you.

“I’m here, baby. Look at me. Give me everything you got. Fill me in”

Those words did the job. Dave groaned deep and long, as he spurted his hot load inside you. But he was not finished. With what was left of his magic, he intended to make you come one more time. In and out, in and out, in and out, just at the right angle, to burn your clit one more time. 

And it happened that you burst into tears as you orgasmed. Dave kissed them dry.  

“Don’t cry, Q.” – Dave stared at you adoringly –”Thank you”

“For what…?” You used the pillow case as a Kleenex.

“To show me what an idiot I’ve been all this time. I really deserve being hurt by Chet. Hopefully, he’s not around...”

You laughed.

“He’s with one of the new boys”

“Training him?”

“I don’t think so…”