Thank You So Much! Truly I Didnt Even See It Going In This Direction Either But Apparently My Brain Had

Thank you so much! 🥰 Truly I didn’t even see it going in this direction either but apparently my brain had other thoughts 😅

Thank you for hosting this fun challenge and getting me out of my comfort zone with writing! ❤️

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

Ahhhh!!!! This was so sweet!!!! 😍😍😍

7. i don't mind falling in love with you

Frankie Morales x female reader | let's get lost chapter 7 [the last one!]

Summary: You and Frankie aren’t together anymore but you’re in a good place.However, spending a week together for your mutual friends’ wedding on a luxury resort might challenge that slightly and realising you’re still in love with your ex is a sure-fire recipe for disaster … Tropes: it was always you, getting back with the ex, beach!Frankie (you know *that* photoshoot) miscommunication, only one bed, good parent Frankie Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI, minor mentions of alcohol and food but reader's drink is not specified, weddings, good dad!frankie, truly terrible excel jokes. Word Count: 4.8k Notes - Oh wow, I can't believe we've made it to the end of Frankie and reader's story. Thank you so much to everyone who's commented, shared or engaged with this fic - your support means a lot. I started this fic in the midst of a stressful period of my life, and things have changed a lot since then (in a better way) but this fic has been a constant. While their journey is now over, I am excited to share my next Frankie fic soon which has many of my favourite tropes and perhaps a career move for Frankie that I cannot stop thinking about .... 🔥 For now, though, here's Let Get Lost... the chapter title is from the milk. song of the same name (this band featured a lot in my fic playlist)

Previous | Series |

You wake up in Frankie’s arms; the pillow barrier between fully discarded. After the rehearsal dinner, after sobbing at the beach and everything that happened, you felt so drained. By the time the two of you had got back to the hotel room, you were exhausted in your bones and you needed to focus on Clara so neither of you had a chance to talk about it further.

He asked you not to give up on the two of you though. He told you he wanted to woo you.

He wants to woo you.

Woo you.

The thought sends a thrill down your spine, makes your heart race just a little more. You want that too. You really, really want that.

You can see it too; dinners out together back in Florida, hands entwined as you make your way back to the car, the picture of domesticity. There’s fire in that vision too though; heated kisses in the hallway just because, tangled together in sheets, savouring every touch, every sensation.

It feels like a future.

Sophie’s words have haunted you though. They pulled you out of slumber one too many times, floating in and out of your mind like the nagging anxiety you’ve left an iron on.

You feel more in control now though. Maybe it was a blessing after all, at least you have a plan now. A real plan.

It’s finally light outside, finally an acceptable time to get out of bed and start on with your day. It’s Lia’s wedding, it’s almost the end of your vacation.

You don’t want to go back. You want to stay here, with Frankie and all-inclusive catering and no work emails or worries about trivial things that seem larger than life - like font sizes. You want to wake up in his arms time and time again, live with travel sized bottles of shower gel and fresh white towels every day.

Exploring this though back home, back in Florida, is a little exciting. You can’t deny that you want to bring Frankie back into the mundane moments of your life; your new coffee maker, the diner that opened around the corner from your place where Clara loves the pancakes. Hell, even your bed’s new to him.

You ease Frankie’s arm from you delicately as you carefully and silently get out of bed.

Clara’s still snoring softly as you tiptoe past her, wrapping a robe around you as you open the terrace door carefully.

There’s less than forty hours left of your vacation. Soon you’ll be on a flight home, back to Florida and everything you’ve avoided thinking of since you stepped on this island.

You want this feeling, you want this peace. You want him.

Getting ready for a wedding has always felt stressful. You don’t want to wear the wrong colour, to not match the dress code in some way or to not fit in with everybody else. In a way, Lia’s wedding is easier because you’re part of her party and so as soon as you were dressed and your presentation to Frankie finished, you had made your way over to Lia’s room.

You feel nervous about seeing Sophia. Her words from the night before still sting and have wrapped themselves around your neck like barbed wire, nicking your skin and making your heart race.

You can prove her wrong. You will prove her wrong.

His lips are against your neck, hands skimming down the side of your body, up your back where his fingers lightly meet your skin.

“You’re supposed to be zipping this dress up, Frankie.”

“Mmhmm, but it’d look even prettier on the floor, right?”

You laugh. “That is so cheesy.”

“Made you laugh though.” He kisses you again, hands on your hips and drawing you closer against him before moving his hands higher so they graze against your breasts. Almost involuntarily, you moan as he knowingly distracts you from your task.

“Careful, Clara is in the next room. We’re supposed to be getting ready.”

“Okay, but I can’t do this when we go outside, so I need to make the most of it. Besides, you’ve got to agree, this is kinda fun, right? Like being teenagers again.”

“Is it wrong if I say that I really cannot imagine teenage Frankie?”

“That’s a good thing, baby, he was a menace.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mmhmm, he would not believe this is his life right now though,” Frankie says, a slight smirk on his face.

He pauses and looks at your reflection in the mirror carefully, clearly picking up on the worried expression, the nerves you cannot hide. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Promise?” you ask, even though you know he can’t assure of that, not really.

He kisses the side of head. “Promise.”

“Oh,” you say, “I’ve just remembered, I want to show you something.”

The two of you walk out of the bathroom where Clara is sitting on her bed and ensconced with her toys. She looks up briefly and waves, a bright smile on her face that mirrors her father’s smile perfectly, before turning attention back to her toys.

“What do you -"

Frankie starts as you root through your bag and pull out your tablet.

“Right,” you say, unlocking the screen and taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about how this can work, how we make it work when we get home.”

“Me too.”

“Good,” you say with a smile, “so I started building a plan.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow and looks over at the file you’ve opened as you wave the tablet in his direction. He takes the tablet and scrolls for a moment. “Baby, this is a spreadsheet.”

“I’m aware.”

“You built a spreadsheet?”

“I want us to be prepared. I built it for us.” Perhaps you should have opted for the business case template, or even powerpoint, instead. You were tempted, but you remembered after your break up the spreadsheet that had become your custody arrangements. You wanted a spreadsheet designed to rebuild instead, a response to that time, a demonstration of what’s changed. It felt right.

Now you wonder if perhaps your efforts were misguided, governed by a foolish desire to prove this was well thought through, that it made simple statistical sense.

“We’re on vacation and you built a spreadsheet?” Frankie looks astonished. “On your tablet?”

“I feel more … I think it’s better if we have a clear plan from the start.”

“Why do you have Excel on your tablet?”

“I … I thought it might come in handy. It clearly did.”

“You’ve colour coded each of our friends. Is this why you asked me when my lease ended when I woke up in the middle of the night?”

“Well, yes.” You pause, you’re never usually like this. Organisation is something you aspire to, with shining new diaries and planners each year that are always forgotten by February. You thought being a parent would help, but it turns out that Clara has just ended up fitting into your chaos, simultaneously draining any residual energy you might have had for planning. Your nerves have worked overtime this holiday though and the spreadsheet, well it seemed like a good idea at midnight.

“I - I think it’s great,” Frankie says carefully, “but did you sleep at all?”

“It really didn’t take that long.”

“There are formulas in there. Hey, are those formulas the magic ones that change?”

“Conditional formulas and formatting? Yes?”

“Fuck, if Will saw this …”

“He’d be annoyed there’s no pivot table.”

“I’m going to pretend I know what a pivot table is. Okay, okay, so walk me through the plan.”

“We’ll start with the gantt chart.”

“Right, so purely out of curiosity, how many charts are there in this thing?”

You pause and think for a moment. “Less than five.”

“Fuck me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, listen to my presentation and then we’ll see.”

“At least you agree it’s a presentation.”

Lia wraps her arms around you tightly when you walk into the suite she’s getting ready in. She’s wrapped in a fluffy robe and she looks both radiant and nervous.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“I’m good, I’m ready. I just - what if my dress suddenly doesn’t fit?”

“It will, and if it doesn’t, we’ll adapt.”

“Right.”

“We’ve got you.”

Lia takes a glug of her drink and smiles. “I’m getting married.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, okay. This is going to be great.”

You can’t help but look over at Sophia before you say, “It is. It’s going to be perfect.”

Minutes turn quickly into hours. There’s all too much preparation, music playing, the smell of perfume and hairspray permeating the room. You focus on Lia, on her day, on helping it be as perfect as possible.

You don’t speak to Sophia, not even when she tries to catch your eye. She overstepped, and you can understand her pain, her own difficult memories coming to the forefront in this setting, but surely you can be petty just a little longer. Surely you can harmlessly sink into the hurt for just a little longer.

It does hurt. Not because of Sophia’s words, not just because of that.

It’s the way it’s made you feel since then. It’s the reason you spent the night formulating a business case of all things to justify Frankie and you reuniting. You want to prove her wrong, you want to show her she’s wrong, but it’s not out of spite. It’s out of that desperate, clawing need for her buy-in, for her approval. It’s fucked up.

It should just be you, Frankie and Clare, you know that. You shouldn’t feel this urge to turn everything up to 110% to prove Sophia wrong. You do though.

You’ll be the best bridesmaid today.

You’ll be the very best friend today.

You’ll bottle it all up, because you need her to know she was wrong, to come to your side instead. You’ll prove to her that you and Frankie can get it right this time

Sophia will eat her words.

It’s shifted slightly into something about her in your head now, not Lia, not even Frankie. You care too much and hate it. You’re furious with yourself for caring what she thinks, for not just being your own person.

Frankie crosses your mind in a welcome distraction from your spiral. A moment with him earlier, in your hotel room, you watched him laugh softly as he helped Clara with her shoes, his eyes full of love and when he met your gaze you noticed the way he shook his head, looking down and his shoulders moving with silent laughter once more. When he looked up, he looked right at you and it wasn’t that it reminded you of how things were before, of those heady days of new love. it was something different. Changed because of how you both have changed, but there was love, there was something real behind his expression. A promise of something in the future. Of a chance.

You’re ready for that chance too.

You take a sip of your drink, smiling at Lia as she delicately eyes her dress.

You’re not thinking about wedding. You’re thinking about what comes next.

The beach looks perfect. The sky is cloudless, radiating a comforting warmth that envelops you as you watch Lia and Benny exchanging vows.

She looks stunning. Her dress is covered in delicate embroidered flowers, in a way that’s not too fussy, that just fits her. It’s her smile though - incandescent with happiness, face glowing with a love that matches Benny’s gaze to her.

You could spend hours ruminating on the tragedy of you and Frankie falling apart. The pain it caused everyone, including yourself. For months, you wrapped yourself in the hurt, wore it like spiked armour, and rued the day you’d fallen for him. Despite all that, Benny and Lia found something, carving some hope and joy out of a time when you and Frankie couldn’t even look at one another.

Last night you were thinking about what it all meant if you fell back together with Frankie and now you realise it. It gave Benny and Lia something. It gave you and Frankie room to remould yourselves separately and know you two still have something.

It’s not about the hate or the pain, or the wedding you wrecked along the way.

It’s about love. Raw and painful but full of hope.

Frankie’s dressed in a crisp shirt, the top few buttons unbuttoned which makes you stifle a giggle when you realise. Is that man allergic to a fully buttoned shirt? He catches your eye for just a second and winks.

You feel your cheeks heat and you fixate on the bouquet you’re holding instead, on being a good bridesmaid.

Clara is next to you, holding her own mini bouquet and looking so excited to be here. She tugs no the edge of your dress, looking up at your expectantly as you shift yourself as subtly as you can so you can pick her up and let her wrap her arms around you.

The vows finish, the bride and groom kiss to cheers and everything just feels hopeful for a moment.

You notice Sophia wiping away a tear when she thinks no one is watching and as her words come back to the forefront of your mind, somehow they feel dampened.

Frankie walks over to you both.

“Hey Clara,” he says cheerfully, arms outstretched to take her.

“Daddy,” she cries happily, eagerly moving from one parent to the other.

Frankie doesn’t say anything to you. He doesn’t need to. His eyes are glowing with mischief, with the secrets between the two of you, with hope.

“It was lovely, wasn’t it?” you say idly.

“Yeah, it was,” he says softly, squeezing Clara for a second. “It really was.”

“Want to get down now,” Clara says.

Frankie laughs as he gently helps her down and the two of you watch her run through the sand toward where Santi and one of Lia’s cousins are talking.

People are starting to move away now, the hum of chatter growing quieter as people walk towards where the lunch will be served and reception held.

You both watch the ocean for just a moment, listening to the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves reaching the shore and retreating.

Frankie slips his fingers into yours, entwining your fingers together. You lean fractionally, enough to feel the heat of his body, drink in the scent of his cologne. It’s different paired with the hotel shower gel, but it’s still Frankie.

“We should head back with the others,” he says softly, squeezing your hand slightly.

“Okay, just - just one more minute like this.”

Clara has been spending the meal running between you and Frankie, even though her chair is next to you. Frankie’s sat on Benny’s side of the table, while you’re closer to Lia and next to her cousin, another bridesmaid, who has been so bubbly and kind to you throughout the day. You can’t help but notice how carefully planned and choreographed this has all been - the consideration, and risk avoidance, of yours and Frankie’s separation is an unspoken theme in the wedding arrangements.

Lia’s cousin is nice though - what is her name? It’s something floral you’re sure. She has an infectious energy and you feel only slightly terrible that you’re glad you’re next to her and not Sofia. From the way she keeps glancing at Santi though , you have a feeling that both of them have specific plans for the evening. Good for both of them, you think.

Clara bounds over, almost tripping on her dress as she makes her way to you. You scoop her onto your lap, letting her hug you.

“Okay, I need to eat now,” she says confidently, letting you place her in her chair and immediately reaching for leftover bread.

“You two seem to really have it sorted,” she says.

“Oh yeah?”

“If I didn’t know, I’d have thought …” she trails off.

“So you and Santi, huh”

“What?” Her voice goes up an entire octave which makes you stifle a laugh.

“Santi’s a good guy.”

“I mean, I’m not looking for anything … that’s sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

You shake your head. “Neither is he, so go for it. For what it’s worth, he’s been looking your way?”

“Really?”

You nod.

“Wow. Well, that’s uh, good to know. So, do you fly back tomorrow?”

“Sadly. I wish I could just stay.”

“Do you have far to fly?”

“Wisconsin.”

“That is um, very different to here.”

“I know, right? It’s been so good to have some sun and all of this around me. I think I’m designed for the warm.”

“You’d love Florida then.”

“I know Lia loves it there, but it’s funny because when she was little, we always talked about moving to New York and for her to have moved to Florida instead, and to be so happy, I guess it’s just funny how things work out.”

“Tell me about it,” you say, thinking for a second of your own journey. Of the job you’re never sure if you love, but you enjoy the freedoms it gives you. You think of the man you thought would be forever and then never, only to fall back together again. You think about the life you’ve built yourself which feels so different to the one you thought you’d have.

You wouldn’t change it though.

Not here. Not right now.

The sky is streaked with pink and yellow hues reflecting the warmth of the day and making everything feel softer. There’s still enough heat for you to kick off your heels and luxuriate in the last rays of the day.

The dancing has started early. Lia and Benny had picked a song that worked for them for their first dance. So often first dances feel too saccharine for you, your least favourite part of a wedding - you joke it’s trauma from a deluge of Ed Sheeran or too practiced harmonies. Instead, this was them to a tee: joyful, fun, alive.

You watch as Clara dances with Santi, her tiny hands reaching up and pure glee on her face. She loves dancing - you won’t be able to get her off the floor until it’s time to drop her off with the sitter.

Sophia sits next to her, placing her glass down and looking at you with a mixture of wariness and worry.

“I want to clear the air,” she says after a moment. “I was - I meant well but I didn’t think, I didn’t think about it might hurt you. I think this wedding has bought up a lot for me.”

“It’s understandable,” you say gently. “And I appreciate the gesture now.”

Sophia sighs. “I really can’t watch you both fall apart again.” She twists her hands together. “It was scary, it was so awful to watch.”

For a moment the presentation you prepared, the spreadsheets of scenario analysis and careful planning come to your mind. You’re ready to defend yourself this time though. To prove to Sophia you and Frankie are right together.

She made you cry, you have to prove her wrong.

Why? A voice in your head asks. Why does her opinion matter so much?

“I don’t think we will,” you say, looking out at the sea, “Not this time. And don’t worry, I wont bother you if we do.”

Sophia whispers your name, taken aback by your matter of fact tone.

“We’re still friends, Sophia, but too much has happened between us, right?” Some wounds take longer to heal, perhaps one day it will feel more like it used to, but after last night it became clear that neither of you have truly healed from her wedding and she seems to have only just realised that herself.

You’re trying though. You have to try.

You can’t choose a life of bitterness, you can only move forward and get lost in hope instead.

“No, I -” There’s abject horror on Sophia’s face as she meets your gaze. “We -”

“I’m right. I understand why you resent what happened at your wedding, but the blame equally lies on Frankie and it was one short moment in a beautiful day. Such a beautiful day. Perhaps - perhaps it hurt everyone so much at the time because you’d couldn’t pretend he hadn’t relapsed anymore, that things weren’t normal. I don’t know. I don’t actually fucking care any more. It’s the past. I realised something watching Benny and Lia.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I don’t want to focus on the hurt anymore.”

“I don’t either,” she admits finally.

“Okay then.” You place your empty glass down. “I’m going to check on Clara. I think she’s tiring out her Tio Santi with her dance moves.”

The evening has set in now. Candles and warm lights illuminate paths and tables. You can hear the band still playing in the distance as you let Frankie guide you against the white washed wall and you melt into his kiss.

His hands cupping your jaw, moving down to your collarbone, your waist. His lips on yours, confident and enrapturing as you pull him tighter against you.

You can taste the sweetness of the soda he’s been drinking on his tongue, smell the hint of cigar smoke on his clothes - a tradition he assured you he decided not to partake in, not this time.

Your heart is racing, the sound of blood pumping in your ears. This is so right. So natural.

Your bodies, your minds, everything about you and Frankie feels right together, feels whole.

You don’t hear the footsteps, don’t hear the sound of anything but the moment.

“Holy fuck."

You hear that, immediately breaking apart. Frankie’s standing a little away from you, worry creasing his brow.

“Hi Benny,” he says casually.

“What are you doing here?”

Frankie looks at Benny and Lia, hand in hand and then at you. “Probably the same thing you wanted to.”

“What about - oh my god, oh wow, it’s - wow!” Lia says, noticing that Frankie is with you, that you’re loitering in the shadows, gaze transfixed to the floor.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to ruin your wedding,” you say quickly. Not another one. Not again.

You feel Frankie’s arm around your waist, gentle motions of his hand to calm you, to bring you back and ground you.

“Why do you think you’re ruining my wedding?” Lia asks, her hands on her hip.

You stumble on your words, stuttering out nonsensical syllables and stop, mouth agape and feeling lost. “Why wouldn’t I be ruining your wedding?” you ask in a small voice.

Frankie mutters under his breath, you think you catch a couple of curse words but you’re not show.

“Oh sweetie,” Lia says, moving towards you, disentangling you from Frankie and bringing you into a gentle embrace. “You’re not ruining my wedding. God, I’ve been thinking this’ll happen all week - I just had a sense you two weren’t over yet.”

“You did?”

“Benny and I have a bet on it. I win.”

“A bet?” Frankie asks, raising his eyes at Benny who holds his hands up.

“Yeah, thanks for that one, guys. Seriously, Lia and I just both picked up there was some unresolved - stuff between you two.”

“You don’t think it’s a mistake, that we’re … a storm or in a vacation bubble?” you ask nervously.

You notice how Frankie closes his eyes just for a second at your question, how the worry radiates for just a moment.

“I think we’re all in a vacation bubble, right?” Benny says. “We’re in a wedding bubble too, but it’s all -” ”Bubbles,” Lia interjects.

“it doesn’t mean it’s not real though. Doesn’t mean you two can’t work at home again. I mean, you’re going to take things slow right?”

“Right. We have a plan.”

Frankie laughs. “There’s a spreadsheet, with formulas and a pant chart.”

“Gantt chart,” you correct automatically.

“It’s terrifying actually.”

“That is … something,” Benny says with a low whistle.

“So you have a plan and you’re taking it slow and you’re happy. That’s good, that’s great. Can you just give me today for me to be a little selfish,” she adds lightly. “Please?”

“Absolutely,” you say. “Trust me, I don’t want any more attention at this wedding.”

Lia laughs, pulls you in tighter for a second and whispers, “When we get back from honeymoon, I want to hear everything.”

The airport is crowded. This time, your flight wasn’t the one that was delayed however it’s unfortunately landed at the same time as another delayed flight and the baggage hall is heaving. Throngs of people, desperate to get home or start their own vacation swarm the hall.

Santi, Will and Sophia’s cases have already arrived. You watch as they awkwardly shift, waiting for yours and Frankie’s luggage to arrive so the group of you can start your goodbyes.

The flight was such a different experience to the journey out.

“Do you need to share our uber?” Santi asks Frankie.

“Nope, we travelled together with Clara. Split the car parking.”

“Very practical. Your idea?” Santi asks you.

“Nope, that was all Frankie.”

He shrugs, a fake modest smirk growing on his face. “Do you guys want to head on then?”

“Probably.” Santi smiles at you both. “back to reality, huh?”

It doesn’t feel with you dread though. Not at this moment.

“it had to happen sometime,” you say placidly, noticing that Clara’s now tugging at your leg. You lift her up, let her wrap her arms around Santi for a moment.

“Bye tio Santi,” she says.

“Bye sweetheart.” Santi says with a soft smile. “Good to see you too.”

You grin. “Yeah, it was. Actually, things worked pretty well.”

He looks at Frankie and then you knowingly. “I bet.” He raises his eyebrows, making no comment or judgement but his eyes are alight with mischief, with something close to happiness for you both.

You feel steadier with each moment like this.

Santi waves as he joins Sophia and Will, who you’d already exchanged goodbyes with, and the three of them head out.

You watch the suitcases whir around the conveyor belt. “Our luggage is coming, right?”

“Absolutely. It’s going to be the last bags though, pretty sure of that."

“Just our luck.”

Frankie smirks, gently moving a twisted strap around your handbag before whispering, “If Clara couldn’t see, I’d be kissing you now.”

“Oof, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you tease, before pointing at a familiar case. “Frankie, it’s finally here."

You watch Frankie grab your suitcase as Clara rests her head on your shoulder.

“Home soon?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Okay."

There are so many conversations for you and Frankie, so many hurdles to overcome. You don’t need to worry about those now though.

You’re noticing the way Frankie’s eyes seem brighter than before, the way his smile is so broad as he joins you again.

His hand is right next to yours and your fingers brush against each other. You take his hand, letting him entwine fingers with you as Clara rests on your other side

Maybe this week wasn’t such a bad idea after all?

“Let me drive you both home,” he says gently.

“Only if you stay tonight,” you say.

“Is that in the spreadsheet?”

“Would you let that go? I just meant, it is late and the roads can be dangerous and as far as Clara knows, you can sleep on the sofa. Or in the bath.”

He shakes his head at the memory of the debate on the first night of the vacation. “Well, that does sounds enticing, doesn’t it? It seems like it would be irresponsible for me not to stay.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, don’t want be setting a bad example for this munchkin, do we? Let’s head home then.”

Home, that sounds like a good idea right now.

Tag List

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Oh! Now that’d be fun to see 🤔

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

This is absolutely beautiful! 😭

until then | joel miller 18+

summary: you’re not meant for each other. not right now.

warnings: religious trauma, religious themes, priest!joel, angst, guilt surrounding religion, allusions to shitty family members, right person wrong fucking everything, etc.

a. note: this is for @almostfoxglove’s angst writing challenge!! i am so happy to be able to participate <3 the song you gave me for inspo is incredible, and i built a bit off of that! (good lord lorrie by turnpike troubadours)

It had been raining cats and dogs for nearly a week now, a weather phenomenon that was deeply uncharacteristic for Austin, Texas during the summertime.

You had been sneaking away every week for Sunday night mass, a little sermon that only five or six people ever showed up for. And even though you didn’t believe in God, and even though the concept of Heaven and Hell had become deeply irrelevant and idiotic to you, you still went.

Perhaps it was to atone for all the guilt that sat heavy in your body, perhaps it was an attempt to unhinge the burden that had screwed itself deep within the tallow of your collarbones, rusted there from years of tears and fear.

Or, perhaps, it was to just simply see the priest. The handsome, charming, mysterious priest.

Joel Miller was known throughout the city as a patient and quiet man, a priest that stood out amongst the fire and brimstone baptist preachers that plagued the Bible

Belt. Everyone was welcomed in his church, the sinner, the saint, the believer, the non believer.

Some say he hardly believed in God, others say he was the best thing that had ever happened to them.

But for you, Joel Miller saved your life.

So now you sat in the Cathedral every Sunday, where you would watch him walk across the stage, hands emoting what his words could not, and after each sermon you would meet him in his office, where his real personality would shine through past the rim of whiskey filled cups and shaking cigarettes.

Tonight, however, something different swirled about the air, something heavy, something full of burden, anger, trepidation.

Joel sat behind his desk, a thick block of Mahogany that was older than the city itself, with his face illuminated behind the absinthe colored bank lamp.

You watched with heavy eyelids as he sipped the amber liquid, a sizzling cigarette resting in a carefully crafted ash tray.

“Father?”

Joel chuckled, looking up at you. You knew he hated when you called him that. A thick eyebrow was raised, and his eyes dripped with honey beneath the silver shine of the weeping moonlight. He was beautiful, he always had been, he always would be.

“Yes?”

“I want to get out of here.”

“Well, y’know where the exit is, darlin’.” His head lazily pointed towards the door to your right, and with a heaving sigh you dragged your palm down the expanse of your cheek. It radiated heat from the glass of Whistling Pig you had been sipping on, a favorite whiskey of Joel’s that he had always given you a heavy handed pour of.

“No. No… I just-” You took in a deep breath, wringing your hands across your lap. “I mean here. Austin. Texas. The South.”

Joel blinked a few times behind his reading glasses, slowly dropping his pen down on the stack of papers that rested before him. He looked up at you, and you noticed how old and tired he looked as he took off his glasses.

Secrets were a heavy burden to share.

And so was love.

You watched the lines in his forehead crease as his brows knitted tightly together, the way the veins in his neck tensed as he swallowed a thick lump that had formed in his throat.

Joel knew this was coming. He always had. And he always knew you would be the first to leave. He had been cursed with foresight, and the wisdom to know what would play out, yet it never deterred him from seeing you, touching you, feeling you.

Joel was smitten the moment he met you, a sweet temptation he was willing to risk his immortal soul for.

How could he not risk it all? How could he turn a blind eye to the curve of your neck, the bounce of your hair, the electricity of your fingertips? How could he ignore the very woman who had bewitched him, body and soul? How could he forget the beauty of you, when that very same beauty hung the stars and moon just for his eyes?

“I’m not worth it, you know.” You had purred through a cigarette, leaning against the brick wall of a club. The winter air had tousled your hair, and Joel readjusted the black collar around his tan neck.

“You are.” He whispered, his breath puffing out little clouds in to the frigid night sky. “You have been since the day we met.”

“Joel.” There was a hunger in your voice that you had never known before. “You know we can’t, baby.”

“‘Course we can. They don’t gotta know.”

“They’ll find out.”

“Who says?”

You ran your hand down his arm, and you could feel the tension that lurked behind the muscles of his biceps. “If you met my family, you’d understand. They’ll find out some way. You know my daddy’s got eyes everywhere-”

“Then let them see.” Your eyes lingered on the way his jaw tightened, his teeth snapping together in a wolf life snarl. “I don’t care who your daddy is. I don’t care how many brother’s you got. Let ‘em try and break my jaw for all I care.”

You laughed softly, leaning your cheek against his shoulder. “What did I do to deserve somebody like you?”

Joel’s fingers found the back of your head, the tips of his fingers gently tracing shapes into your scalp. He could feel you shiver against him, he could feel your heart beat, the hot wave of your breath fanning across him.

“Must’ve been somebody real good in your past life.”

“Past life? Such hearsay from a priest, Father Miller.”

“I ain’t no father around you. I’m just Joel.”

Joel blinked to himself, and that tender moment that had happened so long ago faded alongside the flurries that blurred through his vision. He came back down to earth, and he was back in his office, staring at you as you nervously picked the skin around your pinky finger.

You looked up, your eyes lingering on the scar across his chin, a bloodied mess your brother had once made on him when he found out you had been seeing him.

“We don’t talk to no Catholics.” He had growled to you. “‘Specially not that kind.”

You remember the venom that dripped from his tongue, the names he had called you, the way he swore you would go straight to hell.

“Fine!” You had screamed to him. “I’ll go to Hell with Joel!”

Your daddy back handed you so hard after he found out, that you couldn’t see straight for a week. Joel was there to clean up the bruises, but that’s all he could manage to do.

“Joel.” You spoke softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I have to do this.”

“Why can’t you just…. why can’t you just stay here?” There was a certain pleading in his tone that had overtaken his voice, a certain gasp for air that tugged at his syllables.

Your thumb brushed across his knuckles. “You know why.”

Joel’s chest inflated with a deep breath of air, a breath he couldn’t hold in any longer. You felt the clamminess of his palm, the subtle shake that had taken over his calloused fingertips.

“Look… I love you. And I have never asked for you to feel the same way. I-I’ve never asked for you to leave all of this.” You whispered, trying your damndest to blink away the rapidly forming tears. “But I can’t keep dancing this dance.”

“I can try.” Joel’s voice cracked, his tongue suddenly dry. “I can try to love… to-” He shook his head.

He watched the way you shook your head, his eyes growing increasingly darker, sadder, more distant. His grip tightened on your hand, fearful of what would happen once you finally let go of it.

“No. No, baby. You can’t. I know you.” You gently dragged your knuckles across his cheek, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut. “You’ve got the same guilt as me, lurking deep in your chest. Scared of God, scared of Hell, scared of what might happen.”

Joel’s lips parted, and he stared at you, his gaze glossed over. You would always remember his eyes, always remember how they would stir with emotion when he saw you, when he heard you, when he felt you.

“And I gotta get away from it all.”

Joel let out a quiet breath of air, a whine of anguish gurgling at the back of his throat. There was an uncertainty swirling about him that you had never seen radiate around him, a worried sort of look deep within the irises of his wet eyes.

“Away from… me, too?”

“Yeah, Joel. Yeah.”

“I would have- if… if I could’ve.”

“I know you would’ve. But I get it.”

You stood up from the chair, and his nails dug gently into your skin, as though he was trying to tether you down to that mahogany, to the room which surrounded you.

“You gotta let go, Joel Miller.”

He followed you to the door, engulfing you tightly in his arms. He gasped out, tears pooling down his cheeks, his palm flat against the back of your head.

“I’d have loved you.” Joel whispered, and you nodded against him, grasping ahold of his shirt material. “If I… could let all of this go.”

“I know. I know.”

“You’ll think about me, won’t you?” There was humor in his words now, a gentle glimmer of humor that shone behind his eyelids as you reached for the door knob.

You laughed, and he relished in the familiar way you tilted your neck back, the way your giggles filled his eyes.

“Course I will. ‘Til the day I die.”

“Maybe we’ll see each other then.”

You looked at him from over your shoulder, and for a moment you reconsidered it all. You tried to swallow that angry guilt that clawed at the lining of your stomach, tried to wonder what a future would be like with him.

A future that would never come.

“Until then, Joel.”

This was SUCH a good story! Just binged it all today and totally worth putting off my adult responsibilities for! 😍🥲🥰❤️

'roommates' masterlist

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Series Summary: Your roommate, Maria, introduces you to her boyfriend's brother. You hit it off immediately, but when you find out the true nature of his profession, you both decide to remain just friends. But once the four of you eventually move in together, things get... complicated.

-or-

A lovers to friends to lovers fic

Series Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, smut (18+ MDNI), slow burn, cigarette use, some descriptions of porn (obviously), angst, mutual pining, jealousy, possessive behavior, infidelity (reader cheating on OC), alcohol use

Status: complete

A/N: this idea hit me when I was reading @shellshocklove's I Wanna Be Your Lover. If you haven't had the pleasure, I recommend you reading it. It is a great story and very well written.

Chapters:

1. you're joking, right?

2. sparks on the Fourth of July

3. fun in the sun

4. swipe right

5. roll the dice

6. pitching a tent

7. jack and jill

8. forever

9. hold onto each other

10. just us two

One-shots/Requests:

Roll Call 2: reader and Joel watch some of his porn together

Asks/BTS/Inspo/Extras:

Joel's Likes/Dislikes

Floor Plan

Moodboard by @almostfoxglove ❤️

Love Languages

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her -  that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you 

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily. 

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling. 

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.