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theywhowriteandknowthings · 4 months

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Moving On - Dave York x F!Reader Chapter 8 of The Princess and The Duke.

Specific Warnings: Mentions of dick, mentions of sex toys, so much yearning, angst, step-cest, Mentions of poor parent-child relationship, parents touching sex toys without consent, mentions of childhood trauma(forgotten birthdays), food mention.

Big shout out to Hemmy (@angelofsmalldeath-codeine for writing this with me!)

Follow @vi-notifs for updates!

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[Read on AO3]

Wordcount: 7.2k

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you returned home from the disaster of a dinner with your mother. You’re still not fully over the semi-public dredging of the traumatic childhood that you’d endured. You’re reclined on Ash’s sofa; you caress her head in your lap as you watch reruns of Buffy when a text notification comes through. Your stomach flutters with excitement when you see who it’s from.

Duke🎷: Hey, Nancy will be out for a few hours tomorrow afternoon. She should be gone long enough for you to get all your things.

“Hey, Ash?” You ask as you look up from your phone to see Sarah Michelle Gellar stake someone.

“Hmm? What’s up?”

“Are you free tomorrow afternoon to move some stuff out from my room at Dave’s?”

“I can free up my calendar, no problem. Nancy going to be there?” Ash asks as she tilts her head back to look up at you.

“Nah, Dave’s said she’s out for a few hours.”

“Shame. Would have liked to give the bitch a piece of my mind,” Ash grins at you and you stick your tongue out at her.

“Very funny,” you playfully scold her, “Alright I’ll confirm it with Dave.”

You pull your phone back up.

Princess🌙: Sure, you going to be there?

Dave types for a while before the message comes through.

Duke🎷: Only if you want me to be.

Princess🌙: We could use the extra pair of hands. How early can we get there?

You want to tell him that you do want him there, that you want to see him. But you refrain, knowing better than to say something so bold. It doesn’t stop you from thinking it.

Duke🎷: 1pm if that’s ok with you? I’ll be there.

Princess🌙 : Perfect, see you then.

Your gaze lingers, hoping – maybe foolishly – that he’s going to send another message, keep the conversation going. You’re about to lock your phone and turn your attention back to the TV when you see the little grey dots shuddering to indicate Dave typing. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you don’t miss the way Ash rolls her eyes at you before grinning.

Duke🎷: You got everything you need for the new place?

Princess🌙: Sort of? I’m taking the bed from my room at yours, if that’s ok. Otherwise, it’s pretty sparse, I’ll have to make a trip to that big furniture mall up near Tech Ridge.Duke🎷: Of course, it’s yours. If you need anything else, just let me know.

Princess🌙: Sure, thanks, Dave. See you tomorrow!

Duke 🎷: Anytime, see you then.

“Jesus! You’re like a fucking teenager,” Ash scolds you playfully as she nudges your knee with her fist.

“Fuck you,” you grumble as you ruffle her hair, heat creeping up your neck as you know you can’t deny it.

You set your phone down with a smile, feeling the anticipation bubble up in your chest as you try to focus on the TV. But it’s no use, you can’t stop thinking about Dave, you haven’t been able to since the diner last night.

~*~

Monday

Dave smirks to himself as he watches Nancy on the right screen of his work computer. She’s leafing through the photos Resnik had dropped off an hour ago. Dave has a set of copies up on the left computer screen as he sips his morning coffee.

He hates seeing photos of himself, especially when he looks so flustered. He needs to work on his cardio. Most of his recent hits have been more complex cloak and dagger affairs. Smaller margins for error. Cardio has been the last thing on his mind, and the only working out he’s been doing has been for his mental health. Weight training is a far more satisfying outlet than jogging around the block aimlessly.

His discomfort is quickly dispelled as he watches Nancy swipe the photos off the kitchen counter. The sound is muted but it’s clear she’s screaming bloody murder into the empty home. There’s a poisoning thread of guilt surrounding the scene, he never wanted to see Nancy in pain. But the memory of the dinner party burns any pity away as she tirades around the space where she had humiliated you only days before.

Dave picks up his phone and texts Resnik to commend him on a job well done when he sees a text from you. He opens it immediately, turning off the remote feed of your mother wallowing in her self-pity.

Princess🌙: Hey, you still ok for today?

Duke🎷: Of course, all good on your end?

Princess🌙: Yeah, just checking in, thank you again for this.

Duke🎷: Again, you don’t need to thank me, it’s the least I can do.

Princess🌙: Ok, well, see you at 1.

Duke🎷: See you then.

Dave watches as you start typing again, stopping for a few moments before starting up. It makes his stomach twist, like he’s waiting for something to happen. But you stop typing for good this time and he lets out a heavy breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

He loves that you’re talking again, even if it’s just about the logistics of moving your things out. It makes him check his phone at lightning speed at every news alert or email. Every time hoping it’s you, he doesn’t even know what you’d be texting about, other than the move. He knows that he’s kidding himself, you’ll soon be out of his life for good. Starting out on your own, finding someone more suitable, with less baggage.

But he lets himself live in the fantasy of it all for now. he takes peace in knowing you’re safe and that you’ll soon be free of your mother and her bullshit.

~*~

You’re restless as you pull up to Dave’s house. You’ve caught Ash stealing glances at you the whole drive, but she hasn’t said anything. You’re nervous, something about returning to the house has you on edge. But there’s excitement there too, you’re going to see Dave.

Ever since you reconnected in the diner on Saturday, you’ve been consumed with thoughts of him. When he held you, it was like being home. He makes you feel safe and peaceful.

“We’re here,” Ash says as you shake yourself from your thoughts, “Did you order that truck?”

“What truck?” You look up and your mouth falls slack as you see the white box truck with two men in blue overalls hauling the king-sized mattress into the back of the truck. The logo of a local removal company visible on the side of the vehicle.

“Not me, Dave must’ve called them,” you say as you get out of the car. You look up at the house to see Dave waiting on the porch for you. He’s leaning against the railing, his hand raised in a casual greeting as he nods to you.

“He’s down so bad for you,” Ash teases as she rounds the car, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as she waves enthusiastically at Dave.

“Shut up,” you grumble as you nudge her side.

“Hey, Dave,” Ash shouts as she picks up the pace, practically jogging past you.

“Ashleigh,” he nods as he holds out a hand to shake, but Ash bats it away with her hand before throwing her arms around him.

Dave catches her with ease, despite her practically jumping at him. He steadies her before putting distance between them, holding her at arm’s length. You can’t help but smile at the sight as he shoots you a questioning look. You simply shrug, you have no clue what has gotten into her.

“You’re making your way into the good books, York,” Ash says as she squeezes his forearms. You watch as she says something under her breath to him before letting him go and barging into the house.

“What was that all about?” You ask as you reach the top step, trying not to show how nervous you are as you resist every urge to throw your arms around him like Ash just did. But you know that there’s no way you can risk such a PDA with the threat of the PI looming over you.

“She was grilling me about the truck,” Dave says as he looks you over, “How’re you doing?”

“I really appreciate you doing that,” you nod absently, “Things have been better,” you admit with a noncommittal grunt, “It’s good to see you though.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Your eyes go wide as you try and think of a way to walk them back. But Dave beats you to it.

“It’s good to see you too,” his voice is low as he gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, “And I figured you’d struggle getting a whole king-size bed into that tiny thing.”

Dave gestures over your shoulder at the car and you wince at your lack of foresight. You turn back to see that the warmth has returned to his smile as he teases you gently. An echo of a time where things were simpler, easier.

“We should probably head in,” you say as you look over your shoulder again, paranoia prickles under your skin. It’s become something of a habit since you found out about the Private Investigator. Even in the safety of Ash’s place, you feel like you’re being watched.

“Good idea,” Dave gestures for you to go in with one hand as he waves in the removal guys with the other, “I got them to pack up the bed and desk, as well as your PC and some other bulkier pieces of furniture,” he explains as he follows you into the house.

“That’s good of you, thank you so much,” you say over your shoulder as you ascend the stairs.

“I put your prop box under a throw in the living room, I’ll get it for you before you leave,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Didn’t want the movers nosing around in there.”

Your chest constricts with affection at his thoughtfulness, and you nod in affirmation.

“Thank you,” you repeat and the soft huff of amusement from Dave makes your skin tingle.

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I know, but you’re doing all this for me,” you say with a shrug as you hear Ash bustling around your old bedroom, “I just really appreciate it.”

“Hey,” Dave says as he hesitates at the bedroom door.

“What?”

“So, Ash,” he gestures to the door, “How much does she know?”

“Everything,” you say as you cringe back, expecting anger or aggression. But Dave simply nods, as if confirming his own suspicions.

“Ok, good to know,” he says as he places his palm flat on the door, “Shall we?”

You nod and he pushes the door fully open for you. You smile as Ash finishes assembling a cardboard box with a frustrated grunt. There’s a stack of flat-pack ones to her side. She exhales aggressively, blowing stray blonde hairs from her face as she looks at you both.

“About time, these things are a nightmare to put up.”

An hour goes by as the three of you pack up the rest of your belongings, all the while you and Dave share glances and smiles. With the last few boxes being packed up Ash picks up the first of them to take downstairs. You look around to see the surprising number of boxes piled up around you. You’re even more grateful for the box truck now you can see the sheer size of the move.

“Right, I’m going to start piling these downstairs for the movers to load up,” Ash says with a dramatic clap of her hands, “Besides, you two clearly need a moment alone.”

She gives you a knowing look as you see Dave shift uncomfortably as he seals up a box labelled “pillows”. You flip her the bird as she leaves, grinning at you over her shoulder as she kicks the door closed. The sound of Dave putting down the tape dispenser is loud in your ears before the room falls silent.

“She’s subtle,” Dave says as he turns to look at you, flopping down on the floor next to the box, “I like her.”

“That’s Ash for you,” you shrug as you mirror him, settling down on the floor as you realize standing around and packing up your whole life is quite strenuous. The room feels too big and far too small all at once. The echo of your voices is eerie as the air is so suddenly thick with tension.

“How do I have so many pillows it requires a whole box?” You ask rhetorically as you try and fill the silence. You look anywhere but Dave’s face as you feel the desire to touch him build. You just want to bury yourself in his arms and never leave. You’re closer to him than you realized, only a few feet away. It feels like too far and not far enough all at once.

“You’d be surprised,” Dave says softly, “I think I filled three boxes with just records when I moved out of Carol’s place.”

“Records are cool, Dave,” you roll your eyes as you meet his gaze, but the moment you do you feel like you can’t breathe. Whatever you were going to say falls dead on your lips as you see the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes are glassy, his brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched, almost as if he’s in pain. But you know that look, it’s the look he gave you when you fell apart in his arms. It’s the look of restraint, holding himself back from crossing a line. Your fingers twitch as you start to reach for his hand, the temptation too heavy to resist. Just one touch, that’s all you need. Dave leans forward, his hand reaching for yours when the bedroom door swings open. You snatch your hand back and scramble to your feet.

“Alright,” Ash’s voice cuts through the silence like a blade, “They’ve got almost everything else packed up, let’s get this room-,”

She freezes as she looks between Dave and you, clearly unprepared for the intensity of the moment she interrupted.

“Do you two need a minute? Because I can go back out there and-,”

“No,” Dave says abruptly as he gathers himself up off the floor, “I’m going to check that the movers have everything ready to go, I’ll see you both down there.”

Dave grabs the box he was packing before he exits swiftly. He doesn’t look back as he shuts the door behind him. You let out a shaky exhale as tears spring to your eyes. You wipe them away before Ash reaches you, but she holds you just the same. Her arms wrap around you, firm and strong as you let her hold you.

“I expected to walk in on the two of you dry humping on the floor,” she chuckles low in your ear, “Not caught in whatever that was.”

You shake your head and bury yourself in her shoulder.

“I love him, Ash,” you mutter as you cling to her.

“Poor bastard,” she jokes, and you can’t help but laugh, “But seriously, he’s nothing like anyone that came before, I like him for you.”

“Yeah?” You pull back as you sniffle, wiping the back of your sleeve over your lip, “Why’s that?”

Ash raises an eyebrow at you incredulously, as if you had to ask.

“He’s clearly into you for more than just sex, or a kink, or some twisted stepdad thing,” Ash says as if she’s telling you the sky is blue, “We do need to talk about how he knew where you were on your birthday, maybe not now, cus that was weird and a bit stalker-y.”

“Not today,” you groan, and Ash puts her hands up defensively.

“I know, but that aside, he’s been looking out for you from the moment you landed back in Texas. The night with that douchebag Tristan, your birthday, Saturday night with your mom. No offense babe, but no pussy is worth all that effort. Especially when you’ve not fucked for what? Weeks? Months?”

“Too long,” you say as you can’t help but smile at Ash’s crass humour.

“Exactly,” Ash says with a triumphant smile, “I like him for you, he’d be good for you.”

“Y’know, that unfortunate stepdad thing aside,” you retort, and Ash shakes her head as she smiles at you.

“We could just kill her you know?”

“Ashleigh Mae!” You say with a dramatic gasp as you smirk at her.

“Just saying,” She holds her hands up in mock surrender, “I know a guy.”

“Whatever,” you say as you turn to the last few boxes needing to be filled, “Let’s get the rest of this shit packed up.”

“Yes, boss,” Ash gives you a mock salute before grabbing another box. You shake your head and gather the last few belongings into a final moving box labelled “Misc.”.

There’s a distinct lack of emotion as you head down to the kitchen, you thought moving out would have made you feel something. You set the box down and head into the living room where Dave is staring out of the window.

“Hey,” you say softly, not wanting to startle him.

“Oh, hey, you all ready to go?” He turns to you with a distant look on his face.

“Yeah, just getting that last box,” you say, gesturing to the grey fleece throw covering the box on the sofa. You recognize it as the one from Dave’s sofa downstairs.

“Of course,” he nods and folds his arms over his chest, his eyes dropping to his feet, “There’s something else I want to run by you.”

“Oh?” You look up from the covered box of props to meet his gaze.

“I’ve got a storage unit full of stuff Nancy wouldn’t let me have in the house,” he brings a hand up to rub his jaw, a nervous habit of his, “I was thinking seeing as you said you didn’t have much to furnish the new place, you could take a look and pick some stuff out? Consider it a late birthday gift.”

“Dave, you’ve already done so much for me, I don’t know if I could accept that,” you say as your heart aches at how much he’s willing to do for you.

“It’s all just sat there gathering dust, it’s a shame for it to go to waste when it could get some use.”

You mull it over for a moment, worst case scenario it’s a bunch of junk that you might get nothing from. Best case, you might not need to traipse up to the Furniture Mall on the weekend.

“Alright, I’ll take a look,” you smile as you pick up the box of props, “I’m keeping the throw, if that wasn’t clear.”

“Of course, wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll give the movers the details for the storage unit. I will text you the codes to enter/let me write down the codes” Dave nods as his smile reaches his eyes. You’re about to head out to the car when you remember one last thing you meant to ask.

“I know you’ve already done so much for me-,”

“I was thinking-,” Dave speaks at the same time as you and you both stop talking the moment you realise you’re cutting the other off. You can’t help but laugh as you wait for the other to start talking again.

“You go,” you say, eager to hear what Dave has to say.

“I hope this isn’t overstepping,” he starts again as he props his hands on his waist, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, “But I wanted you to know that, should you want it, I have someone I trust to install security measures on your new place. Would you be interested in something like that? I’ve just noticed how on edge you are, and with a PI sniffing around it seems like a good idea to deter any unwanted visitors.”

You feel your cheeks ache from how hard you’re smiling as Dave beat you to your own point.

“So, I was about to ask you for advice on who to call about that,” you admit, and you watch as relief washes over Dave’s face, “Because yeah, between the PI, and the prospect of living alone in a big city like Austin, I could use the extra peace of mind.”

“I’ll give him your number to get in touch and I’ll let him know to put it on my card.”

“Dave, you don’t have to-,”

“I couldn’t keep you safe in my own home, please, consider it me making it up to you.”

You consider it for a moment, a small voice in the back of your mind warns you about all the spending. But none of this is frivolous, it’s practical and a means to keep you safe. Most importantly, none of it feels transactional, he’s not doing this to buy you back. He’s protecting you.

“Ok,” you nod, convincing yourself as much as Dave, “Give him my number so we can set up the installation.”

“Excellent,” Dave says, and you stand there for a moment before realizing that this is it, there’s nothing left to say. You’ve got nothing more to stall with, you have to leave.

“Well, I guess this is it then,” you shuffle your feet nervously, “Can you get the truck to follow us to the storage place?”

“I’ll call them as soon as you leave.”

“Sure,” you say as you drum your fingers on the side of the box before you make yourself move, heading towards the door with regret and longing weighing down your movements. You get to the front door and put the box down, you can see Ash on the phone as she waves at you, “Hey, Dave?”

You step back from the door and turn to look at Dave again. His brow is raised in a silent question and your body moves before you can stop yourself. You take two long strides back into the house and wrap your arms around him. You bury your face in his t-shirt, hand fisting into the material covering his back as you breathe him in.

“Thank you.”

You breathe into his chest as you feel his broad arms wrap around you. He holds you tightly against him as he places a barely-there kiss to the top of your head. Another stolen moment, a risk you shouldn’t be taking.

“It’s ok, I got you.”

Dave whispers before giving you one last squeeze. His hold loosens and you don’t linger in his embrace, you know you’ve already pushed the limits. You step back with bleary eyes as you smile up at him before wiping away the tears.

“I’ll see you around,” you choke out before scooping up the box on the floor and practically jogging down the porch steps. You load up the box into the trunk of Ash’s car without a word before giving the movers the address to your new place.

“We’ll meet you at the storage place,” The driver says with a nod before getting into the cab.

“Ready to go?” You turn to Ash as she leans on the roof of her car, giving you an imperceptible look.

“Yeah,” she says with a nod before ducking into the car. She’s holding something back, but you can’t quite figure out what.

“You ok?” You ask as you secure your seatbelt, “You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” Ash says as she pulls out into the street, “I’m just sad for you, for the both of you.”

You don’t know what to say to that, opting instead to set route to the storage unit on Ash’s phone before placing it back on the hands-free cradle. You don’t speak for the short drive. You’re too lost in your own thoughts to fill the silence. The moving truck follows you the whole way and once you’re booked it at the front desk you make your way to Dave’s storage unit.

Row after row of red roller shutters greet you, thousands of moments of people’s lives in stasis.

“These places always give me the creeps,” Ash says with a shudder as you get to the row where Dave’s unit is. You stroll down the numbered units, checking for 461 as you go.

“Yeah, it’s like a graveyard, rows and rows of dormant spaces.”

“Jesus,” Ash scoffs as she nudges you with her shoulder, “I was thinking more along the lines of where people hide their dirty secrets, or their drug money like in Breaking Bad.”

“I mean, those options aren’t exactly much better.”

“I’d much rather walk into this unit to find stacks of cash or his secret balloon fetish than dead bodies,” Ash says as you stop in front of the unit.

“Here’s to finding something less terrifying than a dead body,” you joke as you use the code lock to open it up.

The roller shutter opens with a rattle and a crash as the mechanism locks open. You fumble for the pull cord for the light. The bright fluorescent tube lighting blinds you for a moment before your eyes adjust.

There are metal racks lining the walls, with boxes of photo albums, books, and all manner of very personal items stacked up to the ceiling. In the middle of the room are larger items covered in sheets, the furniture Dave mentioned, you guess. There’s a whole rack devoted to records, and you watch Ash’s eyes light up as she sees them. She hurries over to the shelving unit and immediately pulls out a box labelled “The Stones”.

“Wow,” Ash lets out a low whistle as she steps into the tightly packed space, “Did he just pack his whole life up in here when he married your mom?”

“Seems that way,” you say absently as you notice a box filled with framed photographs, “It’s not like Nancy let him decorate his own home. You saw how sad and beige it was in there. All of this would have just been clutter to Nancy, and God forbid her man bring reminders of his life before, or his family into her home.”

You pull out the top one, almost without thinking. You see a younger Dave with a small, dark-haired girl on his shoulders, her tiny hands fisted in his hair as he smiles at the camera. A slightly older looking girl is hanging off his pant leg, caught in a fit of laughter as Dave has a hand on either child, steadying them both.

You’re not sure which one is which, but their names come to you immediately.

“Molly and Alice,” you whisper to yourself as you grip the frame in your hands, you wonder if it was Carol that took the photo. You’re surprised that you don’t feel any jealousy towards her. Instead, your mind immediately fills with the thought of having that life with Dave. Being the one behind the camera, capturing these moments of him and his girls. Being a part of those moments with him, a part of his life. A family.

You feel the shiver run down your spine as you refuse to admit to yourself that hope for that life with Dave has already taken root. It’s been festering inside you for some time but seeing him happy with his girls makes you face it. The need to have that life with him is all-consuming, threatening to swallow you whole. It’s too much for you to bear because you don’t know you’d be able to cope if it all came apart at the seams. Right now, you have to focus on you, on your life.

You put the frame down in haste and make yourself walk away, there’s a thick, tight feeling in your throat. You press on, moving to the covered furniture and pull the dust covers away to reveal a full-size record console. You recognize it mostly from film and TV, not having seen one in person before. The dark grey, mesh covered speakers the biggest giveaway, but you have no idea how it opens.

“Oh my fucking god,” Ash squeals at your elbow and you wince at the way your ears are ringing, “This is a Wrensilva!”

“A what?” You ask as you watch Ash run her hands over the wooden surface of the console, clearly looking for something.

“It’s only one of the best modern record consoles on the market, these things go for ten grand or more.”

Ash explains with an excited energy usually only reserved for Sarah Michelle Gellar, Taylor Swift, and women she’s dating. Her fingers find purchase on the wooden panel on top and the hinge moves soundlessly as she pushes the cover open.

“This is pristine,” She breathes as her hands ghost over the brushed aluminum dials and knobs, as if she’s afraid to touch it.

“Shame he never had the chance to use it,” you say with sadness as you remember the small tabletop turntable in Dave’s basement. A far cry from the opulent piece of art before you.

“Do you think we could play something?” Ash says, already rifling through boxes of records to find something to play.

“If you can find somewhere to plug it in, be my guest,” You shrug as you pull off some more dust sheets to reveal a hoard of expensive-looking furniture. Everything is lacquered wood, there’s a dining table and chairs that would be way too big in your new studio apartment. You eye up a mahogany wardrobe with beautiful glass doors that would fit well in your bedroom.

The final item you uncover is a beautiful wooden writing desk with a curved shutter. There are drawers on either side of the space where a chair would go, with intricate brass handles on all of them. You push up the wooden shutter to reveal the desk itself. It opens with ease, revealing small drawers and open spaces for letters and other small items along the top.

The flat surface has a leather mat inset into the wood, gold detailing in each corner. You run your fingertips over the smooth surface and imagine sitting at the desk with your laptop, pouring over legal notes and case briefs. There’s a perfect spot to put a desk lamp on the right.

You hear the needle drop, with the softest of scratches, and feel yourself take in a small breath as you wait for the music to start. The hauntingly beautiful sound of Nina Simone is crystal clear, and unbelievably rich through the bassy speakers. Clearly, Ash had found a power outlet. Feeling Good is one of your favorite songs, Ash knows this, and you smile as you look over your shoulder at her.

“Louis Armstrong, The California Ramblers,” Ash says approvingly as she saunters over to you, “Man has excellent taste.”

“I mean, have you seen me?” You scoff and Ash looks at you with a shocked expression, jaw hung open as she grins up at you.

“Are we doing this? Fully admitting you two are horny as fuck for one another?”

“After today, it’s more than a little obvious, don’t you think?” You say with a shrug, your lips pulled up into an unapologetic grin.

“Giiiiirl,” Ash squeals as she shakes her head in disbelief, “Ok but can we talk about those fucking grey sweatpants he wore today? I’m gay and I couldn’t help but fucking fixate.”

“Don’t,” you push on her shoulder as you feel your cheeks heat up, “I swear he wore them today to fucking torment me.”

“Is it as big as it looks?”

“Jesus Christ, Ash, for a lesbian you’re way too into dicks.”

“Women can have dicks too,” Ash points out and you roll your eyes.

“You’re way too into the dick of a cis man then,” you counter, and she just shrugs as she grins at you.

“You’re no fun,” Ash huffs, realizing you aren’t going to divest the size of Dave’s cock to her.

“It’s also fucking gorgeous,” you say as you head towards the door of the unit, not so much as looking at Ash as you go. The movers are waiting for you outside and you quickly tell them which pieces to take out to the truck.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Ash groans as she scrambles after you, “Could we at least go dildo shopping so you can point out an adequate substitute?”

“You’re so fucking gross,” you laugh as you turn off the console, putting the record back in its sleeve before unplugging it. Ash replaces the lid of the console and paws at it balefully, like a lovesick puppy.

“That’s not a no,” Ash wiggles her eyebrows at you as you put the boxes back on the shelving units.

“Only if you buy me one too, Nancy ruined my favorite one by fondling it before covering it in mashed potatoes.”

“No, not Vibro Vibescal?!”

“The very same,” You say solemnly as you make your way back to the door of the storage unit, “No way could I bring myself to put him inside me after that, food and pussies just don’t mix.”

“And no-one wants their moms touching their toys.”

“Ugh don’t,” you groan as you lean against the exterior wall, you’re so ready to get home and start unpacking.

“So, what will you call the new one?” Ash asks as she rests her head on your shoulder, snaking an arm around your waist.

“I dunno,” you muse, “Maybe Hole Filler?”

“I don’t get it,” Ash says, and you can hear the pout in her tone as you watch the movers grab the writing desk. The last item.

“Like Joel Miller, from The Last of Us?”

“Too far a walk to get to the punch line,” Ash grumbles as she tries to think of something else.

“We good to go?” You hail one of the movers as he passes you both.

“All set, just checking, this the address?” The man asks as he holds out his phone, the address already inputted on the Maps app.

“That’s the one,” you nod and start locking up the unit.

“See you there, ma’am.”

You smile to yourself at the honorific. The moment you’re happy everything is set up you loop your arm through Ash’s own. You stroll back to the car, your heart a little heavier. You try not to dwell on the way you can’t stop thinking about the photo of Dave and his girls.

~*~

You unlock the front door to your open plan apartment with a jingle of keys and hurried movements. The second-floor apartment is exactly as you remembered it. Dark hardwood floors, high ceilings with arched windows. The walls are a soft blue, bare, but for a few framed posters the last occupant left. You make a mental note to take them down. You head through the main living space, beckoning Ash to come inside.

“Shit, how much is this costing you?” Ash says as she steps in behind you.

“Not as much as you’d think. Two people died in the bedroom; the rental company couldn’t shift the place. Apparently, it was big news a year ago?”

“People died in here?” Ash whispers.

“Ash, people die in homes all the time,” you sigh as you watch the movers pile the furniture into the middle of the room, “I’m much more afraid of the living.”

“But like,” Ash looks around the open space with wide eyes, “Isn’t it weird?”

“All I care about is that it’s almost half as cheap as anything else for rent in this part of Austin,” you shrug, dead people can’t hurt you.

“You’re far braver than me,” Ash says with a shudder, “I couldn’t live in an apartment that has ghosts.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, Ash,” you laugh as the movers start to bring up the furniture.

“Where do you want us to set things up?” The lead mover asks as he wipes his brow.

“It’s fine, I’ll sort it,” you say with a wave of your hand, not wanting to pay extra to have them set up the bed and other items.

“Mr York pre-paid for the service, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Alright,” you nod, your heart fluttering at Dave’s thoughtfulness.

You instruct the movers to set up the bed in the other room, the only space that isn’t open plan. Then they set up the chairs and desk in the main room, the desk sits beautifully under the main window, looking out into the city below. They stack the moving boxes in your bedroom.

The moment the movers are gone you head back down to Ash’s car to get your prop box. You expect Ash to come back up with you, but she shakes her head.

“I’ve gotta catch up on work, but we’ll do something this weekend yeah? Maybe throw a housewarming? Invite Peter?”

“Sounds good,” you say as you pull her into a firm half-hug as you balance the prop box on your hip, “Thank you so much for today.”

“Anytime,” she tilts her head at you with a smile, “But please, don’t get murdered by your ghosts.”

“I promise,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you hold your hand over your heart. She sighs at your lack of sincerity before getting into her car. You wave her off as she leaves, only heading back up to your apartment after she disappears from view. You reach the top step, about to enter the main building when you feel the prickle of uncertainty under your skin. You look over your shoulder, scanning the street for anything out of place. But there’s nothing there, just the typical bustle of people going about their business. There aren’t any obvious signs of a PI, but you feel unease as you slip inside.

You lock your door behind you, already eager for Dave to get his security contractor in to set up the alarm and cameras. You set your prop box down on your bed before you start unpacking the rest of your clothes and bedding. The wardrobe just about fits all your clothes, but you make a note on your phone to plan a trip to IKEA at some point for a chest of drawers for the rest of your clothes. You think of anything you need for the kitchen, cutlery, plates, all that mundane stuff.

You set your laptop up on the writing desk and pull over one of the wingback chairs, it’s too low to really use the desk comfortably but it’ll do for now. Your dual monitors and PC tower won’t fit on this. Another thing to add to the list, a computer desk for your room as you’d left the old one at Nancy’s. But the writing desk is perfect for studying, with ample room for a laptop and books as well as a lamp. Another thing to add to the list.

“Fuck,” you huff to yourself as you realize that the small – if expensive – offering of Dave’s furnishings certainly made a dent in what you need, but your new place was far from complete. You order pizza before taking a long shower, the water pressure is delightful. You pad back out into the bedroom in just a towel, grateful for the generous adjoining bathroom, and pull the throw off the prop box.

You hold the fabric to your nose, inhaling the sweet scent of home, of Dave. It’s faint, but it still fills you with a rush and you think about that morning you woke up in Dave’s arms. The way his lips brushed against yours in the haze of waking. The first real moment that you crossed a line echo in your mind as you feel nothing but euphoria as you press your face into the fleecy fabric.

You throw the blanket over your shoulders as you open the box. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you see the olive-green hoodie and “USMC” logo front and center in the box. You drop your towel and pull the oversized garment on. You groan audibly at the smell of Dave’s bodywash, and his natural scent that you never can truly place as you pull it over your head. It’s like a hit of adrenaline spiking through you, it makes you bold.

You find a pair of leggings to pull on before grabbing your phone. You dial Dave’s number, heading over to the loveseat in the middle of the apartment. You flop down and to your dismay he doesn’t pick up. You glance at the time and realize it’s almost ten, a little late for a call. You open up Instagram to scroll when the call comes in.

“Everything ok?” There’s an urgency in Dave’s voice that makes your stomach flutter.

“Everything’s great just finished unpacking,” you say as you try not to whine at his voice in your ear, “Thank you, Dave. I know I keep saying it. But really, I can’t express how much all this means to me.”

“Like I said, think of it as a late birthday present.”

“This is a bit much for one birthday,” you argue, both of you are stalling again, neither wanting to hang up.

“I think you’ve had more than enough shitty birthdays to warrant being spoiled this time around.”

You don’t know what to say, because he’s not wrong. This is the most you’ve been spoiled in your life, not that the bar is all that high. But it’s nice to be seen, to have someone acknowledge it and try and make amends. Even if it isn’t his responsibility. But that’s probably why it means so much more to you.

“I found the hoodie,” you say as you bite your lip, all you can smell is Dave.

“I hope you didn’t mind me putting it in there,” he says, his voice lower now, almost a purr in your ear, “I always thought it looked better on you.”

“It feels like home.”

You know you’re being too forward, but you miss him, you wish he was here. But you can’t say any of that out loud, but you need to say something.

“You’re a good man, Dave,” you say softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“I try,” he says, and you hear something low, sorrowful in his voice as he speaks, “Anything you need, you know where I am.”

“I do, see you around, Dave.”

“Bye, Princess,” The nickname makes your heart flutter, and you hear a grunt of discomfort on the other line as Dave realizes what he’s said, “I-, I didn’t mean-,”

“See you around, Duke.”

You hang up the phone before he can say anything more, astonished at your own boldness. You squeal to yourself like you’re a teenager again, drifting dangerously close to outwardly flirting with him.

But the thing that is clear to you now, if you ever really had any doubts about how Dave felt have dissipated.

He feels the same way, whatever it is you have, no matter how irresponsible it is, it’s mutual.

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 5 months

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The Princess and The Duke - Chapter 7: Tempest

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. Specific Warnings: Descriptions of r*pe and SA of a minor(reader) (past, it's brief and non-gratituous), a whole lot of gaslighting, angst, Parental abuse, Coersion, drinking, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is *again* heavy on the issues around this), Manipulation/gaslighting, traumatic childhood, parental neglect, angst, grief, regret, depression, Strained parent-adult child relationship. Let us know if we missed anything! Word Count: 8.1k (It's a long one!) [Read on AO3] Thank you once again Hemmy (@angelofsmalldeath-codeine) for the hard work in getting this written with me! No tag list for this one, it's a sensitive one.

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Dread forms in the pit of your stomach as you descend the stairs, your fingertips tremble on the banister railing. You linger by the basement door, a pang of yearning constricting your chest as you long for something you shouldn’t.

Then you hear it.

“What is taking her so long? She hasn’t run off again, has she?”

You can hear the contempt dripping from Nancy’s tone, but you haven’t let that bother you for years. No, what bothers you is the way your father laughs along, like it’s all some hilarious joke he’s in on.

“Always was one to run out when things didn’t go her way,” it’s like a slap to the face, hearing him belittle you, make light of all those times you ran out. As if he was there, as if he’d seen first-hand why you’d fled from the one place you were supposed to feel safe.

You step into the kitchen without a word, Nancy and your father are sat on the near side of the breakfast counter, their backs to you as they continue to titter like school children. Dave’s head snaps up, face almost unreadable. But you know that look in his eyes, the slow simmer beneath those deep, amber-flecked irises.

Dave is livid.

You shrug and smile at him, but you know that’s not enough assurance for him, not really. He knows you’re hurting, and you know it kills him that he can’t help. Not for the first time, you’re realising that the only time you’ve felt safe, respected, and truly at home since returning to Texas, was with Dave.

It kills you to know you can’t just fall into his arms and seek the comfort you have been missing these last four weeks. You almost wish you had stayed, that you could have pushed down your feelings and let things play out as they had.

He can’t even bring himself to smile at you or do anything but glare into the mid-distance once he’s done a precursory check to make sure you’re ok. You watch as his hands remain pressed flat on the countertop, his beer untouched as the condensation beads on the neck. Your glass of rosé has been replaced with a beer and you try not to smirk as you take your seat.

“Oh sweetheart,” your mother’s tone is saccharine, and you have to stop yourself from gagging, “We were just worrying about you, everything ok?”

“I heard,” you say, voice level as you take a purposeful sip from your bottle, “Thanks for the drink.”

You know it’s a little too risky, but you smile sweetly at Dave as you speak. You can see a vein in his neck bulge as he forces a smile.

“Anders – your dad – made a comment that he thought you hated rosé,” Dave shrugs and raises his beer in toast to the other man, “We had some of that import lager you like so I grabbed one for you.”

Your dad grins sheepishly between the three of you as Nancy fiddles with the stem of her wine glass. You can see the storm brewing behind her eyes. Unlike Dave, she doesn’t have a very good poker face. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you look between your mother, father, and Dave. Nancy keeps looking at you, like she’s trying to find the courage to say something.

“So, kiddo, what’s new with you? You manage to find a job yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a remote job for tech support at the start-up Ash works at.”

You lie, but it’s what Ash suggested you use as cover now she knows about your real job. She has enough sway she could probably even get you a fake employee ID if needed, but you’re not that worried.

“Oh, honey, thank goodness, maybe you can start paying rent now!”

Nancy laughs at her own comment in a way that makes you roll your eyes. She really still thinks she’s just so funny. It makes your stomach turn.

“Actually,” you start, “I’m going to be staying with Ash until I get my own place.”

You almost made your announcement, let it slip that you’re already moving out. But something about the way Nancy keeps stealing looks at you makes you hesitate.

“Oh, honey,” she starts, “I was kidding, don’t be so dramatic, you should come home.”

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I need to keep my stuff here until I get my own place, if that’s ok?”

You make a point not to address Dave directly, you want your mother to feel like she has the power here. You also know it would arouse suspicion about you and Dave if you did.

“Always so dramatic, what was it that even made you leave in the first place? Was it him?”

Nancy points at Dave, ignoring your request and you feel heat prickle under your skin. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you try to recover from the whiplash that the turn in conversation has taken.

“Jesus, Mom,” you hiss, “This again? Why can’t you let it go? Dave did nothing to make me feel uncomfortable. He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Then why did you leave here crying your eyes out, running off in a stranger’s car?”

You go to answer, immediately giving in to the rise Nancy has so nicely set up. But you pause, something about her wording catches your interest.

“How do you know how I left?”

You look at Dave, accusation in your gaze. You want to believe he wouldn’t have said anything about the state of your departure. You’d made a point to plan corroboration only hours ago. Before anyone else can say a thing, an egg timer goes off and you near jump out of your skin. Dave’s body twitches as he stops himself from grabbing your hand.

“That’s the roast. Dave, be a dear and serve up.”

“I’ll help,” Anders jumps up, giving Dave a sympathetic look as he goes.

You shake your head in disbelief at both of your parents’ actions. Your father for being so whipped even now, and Nancy for ordering Dave around like a servant in his own home. Dave doesn’t move, and you can feel the tension between he and your mother. Something is being left unsaid, the silence is deafening and to your surprise, Nancy breaks first.

“Never mind, I’ll do it, like I do everything else in this house.”

She huffs as she wobbles off her stool to help a confused looking Anders serve up the roast. You take another sip of your beer, letting the malty liquid coat your tongue.

“You ok?”

Dave’s voice is low as he gives you a sideways look, his brow is knitted with concern as he speaks.

“No,” you whisper, fiddling with the bottle between your fingertips as you try not to lose your shit.

“If you want to leave, I’ll cover for you, I’ll bear the brunt of whatever this mood of hers is.”

You hesitate, the idea sounding more than appealing right now but you know you need to see this through. This isn’t the end of this hellish set-up, and it won’t end here if you just leave now. You need to see this through.

“I do, but I can’t, this isn’t something I can run from. Not this time.”

Dave says nothing more as your father comes over with the first few plates of sides. By the time everything is served you’re pretty hungry. You pile your plate up, focusing on the food so that you can ignore the three sets of eyes that are trained on you.

You try and eat, chewing your food thoroughly before swallowing. But there’s so much unease rattling through your body that you can’t find the joy in it. Your father is eating away happily, seemingly oblivious to the tension bouncing between your mom and you. Dave eats slowly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was enjoying his meal. His beer remains untouched, as he continues to observe silently.

Your question hangs unanswered in the air, and it turns your stomach to know something is being left unsaid.

“So, how did you know?”

You ask again, finding your voice as you abandon the food on your plate. You can’t keep doing this. You want to get whatever this ambush was about over and done with so you can just go back to Ash’s. But most of all, you just want to go home, but you don’t know where that is right now. Images of Dave wrapping himself around you in your bed upstairs come to mind, but you push them away. You have more pressing matters to deal with.

“It doesn’t matter, drop it,” Nancy snaps as she drains her glass of wine before angrily spearing a stem of broccoli on her fork.

“It does matter,” you say as you throw your cutlery down with a clatter, “I deserve an explanation. Mom, tell me how you knew.”

“Stop being so childish, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Nancy deflects again as she looks anywhere but you. You go to say something, but Dave’s voice startles you.

“Nancy, are you going to tell her, or do I have to? Or are you going to keep ignoring her questions, like she’s a child?”

“Tell me what?” You challenge the pair of them, looking between them as your father sits in stunned silence, abandoning his food as well. You almost smile at his discomfort. Whatever he thought he was brought in to help your mother with, this wasn’t it.

“We aren’t talking about that right now,” Nancy spits as she fills another glass of wine, “We’re supposed to be here talking about you,” she points her finger at you, gesturing with her wine glass as it’s gripped in her clutches, “You and your problem.”

“My problem?”

“Yes, the fact that you’re whoring yourself out online, like a fucking… prostitute!”

“What are you talking about?” You respond with venom lacing your tone, your eyes narrowed as you try and keep your cool. There’s no way she could know.

“This!” She cries as she walks over to a paper bag on the far counter. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you already have some idea of what will be in there. You wait for her to pull out your paraphernalia and wave it in your face. To your surprise she up-ends the bag onto the island. The masks and the vibrator don’t shock you, but the multiple sets of lingerie and garter belts do.

“You went through my underwear drawer?”

You feel physically sick as you watch your belongings sit on top of plates of sides. The scene is mortifying as you scramble away from the table. Your skin crawls as you feel the tendrils of violation slithering under your skin.

“How dare you?”

“So, you’re denying it?” Nancy scoffs as she sits with her arms crossed, a picture of misplaced triumph.

“Of course, I am. Where did you even get that idea from? Some sex toys and some lingerie?”

“Don’t raise your voice at me,” Nancy spits as she straightens in her chair, her eyes wild as she seethes at your challenge, “The slutty bedding, the blackout curtains, the fucking camera pointed at your bed. There’s no other explanation for it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m just kinky? That I might I like it when my sexual partners do more than rut into me for five minutes and roll over? I would have thought you’d be far more open minded considering that you enjoyed enough freedom to explore your own sexuality over the years. Why does your mind go straight to sex work? As for my bedding, I thought you wanted me to feel comfortable here. Just because I can’t stand the bland suburban vibe you chose for this house, doesn’t make it slutty.” You scoff, your back up as you feel the need to defend yourself, “For someone who’s made a living off prenup settlements, alimony and husbands’ credit cards, you are incredibly judgmental of sex work. That’s the correct term for it these days, by the way.”

You pause to take a breath as you shake your head, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of your nose as you refocus your train of thought. Nancy goes to speak, and you hold up your other hand to silence her.

“I wasn’t finished,” you snap before continuing, “What gave you the right to enter my room, search my things, and steal from me? Even if I was a sex worker – which I’m not – that wouldn’t give you any right to do any of that. And how dare you try and slut shame me? What do you stand to gain by humiliating me like this? Dumping my underwear and toys in front of Dad, and your husband no less? What is your angle here?”

You can see Dave’s façade beginning to crack, his hands are fists balled on the table as his resolve begins to slip. Your father is sullen, eyes downturned as he avoids your gaze. His shoulders are slumped, and he doesn’t seem to be listening anymore.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Nancy starts up again but is cut off before she can continue.

“Enough.”

Dave snaps as he stands, his chair scraping loudly on the tiled floor, his shoulders tense as he glowers down at Nancy.

“Don’t you dare tell me enough,” Nancy yells at Dave.

“First the PI, now this? It’s abhorrent, Nancy. How can you disrespect your adult daughter’s privacy so flagrantly?”

“A PI? Are you serious right now?” You scoff, “When you’re the one spending so many weekends alone with Danielle?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nancy snaps but you just laugh.

“Cut the crap, Nancy,” you say her name without thinking and it’s like a switch is flipped. Your mother’s eyes go wide, and she drops her glass, as if you’d physically hit her. It clatters on the countertop, spilling the sickly pink alcohol across the surface.

“Just as I suspected, you’ve seduced him, haven’t you? Turned him against me by sucking his dick just like you did with Kyle.”

White noise fills your ears as you walk backwards, needing to put physical distance between you and your mother. You feel your knees weaken; you clutch the countertop behind you in desperation to stop yourself from falling. Your mouth goes slack as you try and ground yourself, but you’re left adrift as the accusation rocks you.

“I was fourteen.”

The statement falls from your lips like a lead weight, striking the tiled floors with a clatter as it bounces around the open space. Your words echo around the room as you feel the world swaying around you.

“Nancy, what are you talking about?”

To your surprise it’s your father who speaks up and you see the look of horror on his face.

“This doesn’t concern you, Anders,” she spits but he’s still shaking his head in disbelief. Dave turns to look at you, his jaw tight as he tries to keep his cool. But you see it, the desperate sorrow mingled with fury at your admission.

“Kyle left you because I threatened him with the police. I didn’t let him do anything to me, that would imply I had a choice.”

Your voice isn’t your own as you hiss at your mother, never have you spoken back to her so freely. But you can’t do this, not anymore. You can’t be here.

You start to move without thinking, your body shaking as you head to the door. You vaguely register people calling after you, but you can’t stop. You’re opening the door by the time someone catches up to you, a firm arm on your elbow. You turn, and something deep within you hopes it’s Dave but you’re met with the pinched features of your father.

“Please don’t leave,” he pleads but you shake your head violently, lurching away from his grasp as you stumble onto the porch. The cold wind hits you as you realise you’ve left you purse and your coat inside.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You look at the man before you up and down with derision, it seems obvious now how alone you’ve always been. Not once have you been able to rely on him, nor Nancy, when things got tough. It’s like you’ve finally taken off a blindfold, exposing you to the sad reality that you’ve survived on you own for most of your life without either of their help.

“I’m your father, please, let me help you.”

“Are you? It hasn’t felt much like it in recent years.”

He stammers and there’s something in his expression that makes you take pause. You can’t fucking believe it, but maybe you can. This whole evening has been full of fucked up truth speaking and skeletons tumbling from your familial closet. What’s one more bombshell to add to the list?

“Are you?”

You ask again as you glare at him, Nancy appears at his back, and you see the twist of shame in your mother’s face.

“Perfect,” you laugh, hysterical and unhinged as you fail to keep your cool, “You don’t even know do you?”

“Please, sweetheart, come back inside,” he pleads but you shake your head, despite the cold, it’s only an hour’s walk back to Ash’s place.

“No.”

You turn on your heel and stomp down the steps, speed-walking down the driveway until you hit the sidewalk. You go to check your phone, but you realise you’d left it in your coat. You curse but keep on going. There’s no way you’re going back.

~*~

Dave can’t remember the last time he felt so furious. He thinks he might crack a tooth if he continues clenching his jaw so hard. He sits at his desk as he downloads a copy of the CCTV footage onto a second USB drive, ready to give to you.

The first USB drive sits on the desk, ready to be put in a hidden compartment in his car door. He can hear Nancy and Anders bickering upstairs. He taps his foot irritably as he watches the progress bar, he needs to check in with you, but this comes first.

Evidence gathering always comes first.

The progress bar turns green as the job completes. He ejects the drive and secures it in a plain envelope, your name scrawled across the front. He needs to go back upstairs and face Nancy and Anders, but he can’t, he’s too pent up. Too angry.

In this state, he might do something he’ll regret.

He locks the door to his room and slides across the deadbolt before he practically rips off his dress shirt. He strips off before tossing everything into the hamper at the corner of the room.

He turns on the faucet and steps into the cold stream, not waiting for the water to get to temperature. He jolts as the frigid sheets of water cascade over him, a pained hiss escaping his clenched teeth.

He’s shivering by the time the water finally warms up, his anger quelled, he realises he’d forgotten to do something. He scrubs himself clean before striding out to grab his phone. The other line answers on the third ring. Dave doesn’t even bother waiting for a response before he starts talking.

“Is that you sat in the blue sedan three houses down?”

“You know me too well, boss,” Resnik chuckles down the line and Dave shakes his head. He’s not in the mood for Resnik’s bullshit. He balances the phone between his shoulder and jaw as he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his drawers.

“You see her leave?”

“Affirmative.”

“Think you can tail her for me? On foot?”

“Christ, really?”

“Yes or no, Resnik.”

“Fine. I’m on it, do I need my camera?” Resnik curses as Dave hears him jostling the phone, “Shit she’s on the other line already, she’s relentless.”

“Ignore her, make up an excuse, I don’t care. You’re not tailing either of us professionally, Nancy be damned. I need tonight off the books.”

“Got it, you breaking protocol to tap that a-?”

Dave ends the call, anger already simmering too hot under his skin as he forces his feet into some sneakers. For all of his uses, Resnik is his least favourite member of the team, and moments like this remind him why. But right now, your safety is more important than chewing out his subordinate.

He pockets his phone and the envelope with your USB in it before unlocking the door and heading upstairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he jogs up the steps, already bracing himself for the inevitable tirade that awaits him. He peeks out into the hallway to see Nancy and Anders have moved to the living room. Still bickering furiously. He smirks at the sight and leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat to get their attention.

“What do you want?” Nancy snaps.

“I want you,” Dave snarls as he points at Anders, “to get the fuck out of my house. Now.”

Anders physically shrinks back and Dave smirks, what a pathetic man.

“It’s my house too!” Nancy argues but Dave simply shakes his head.

“You might live here, Nancy, but it’s my name on the deed,” he counters, relishing the way her lips purse into a tight line as she knows she can’t argue there, “Regardless, if he’s not gone by the time I get back, I will physically remove him.”

“Asshole,” Nancy grumbles under her breath, clearly hoping Dave wouldn’t hear her.

“And you?” Dave fixes his gaze firmly on Nancy now, making her squirm, “I can’t even look at you right now. What you did tonight was beyond obscene, it was grotesque. I honestly don’t recognise you as the woman I married. What I saw tonight, aimed at your own daughter no less, was humiliating. I need to clear my head, I’m going out for a run, it might be a good idea for you to go and stay with Danielle for a few days.”

“Bullshit,” Nancy storms towards Dave, and this time Dave sees the blow coming, he catches her wrist mid-swing and holds it there. She struggles against his grip and her eyes go wide as she realises just how strong Dave is.

“What’s bullshit?” Dave challenges, holding her gaze as he cocks his eyebrow, daring her to accuse him once more.

“Going for a run? What a crock of shit. You’re going to go and fuck her, aren’t you? I’m not blind, Dave. The moment I can prove you’re taking advantage of her, it’s over for you. I’ll take you for all you’re worth. I will ruin you.”

“You can’t stop yourself, can you? You really can’t see how utterly debasing and disgusting these allegations are? Especially for her?” Dave shakes his head as he lets her go, turning on his heel and heading to the door. By some mercy Nancy doesn’t follow, but she continues to scream at him about the prenup, he pays it no mind.

He passes the coat rack on the way out and notices your coat and purse. He takes one last look over his shoulder, Nancy is nowhere to be seen, and he snatches them up before heading out the door. Then he feels it, your coat is strangely heavy, something is weighing it down. He continues walking down to the sidewalk as he fishes through your pocket.

He’s just out of sight of the house when he pulls out your phone. His blood runs cold as he realises just how vulnerable you are right now. He breaks into a sprint as he heads to the parked car that he keeps on standby a few streets over. He fumbles with the keys as his blood rushes loudly in his ears, the moment he’s inside the car he dials Resnik’s number again.

~*~

It’s fucking cold.

You curse yourself as you walk down the side of the road. You also curse the bullshit inconsistency of sidewalks in Austin as you have to cross the street once again just to keep off the road. Back in New York you’d be in thicker clothes and have ample sidewalk to walk down.

But here you are, in Texas, in the Winter. With no coat, no phone, no purse.

Stupid.

You curse to yourself as you flinch when a truck hurtles past you enough to sway you with the turbulence it creates. This isn’t even funny anymore, but you can’t turn back now. You’re only a few blocks away from Ash’s apartment and you’d only be putting yourself in more danger if you did go back.

You reach a crosswalk when you feel it. The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you go to cross. It’s an instinctual gnaw at the back of your mind as you see a flicker of movement in a yard across the street.

Four.

You count to yourself mentally, four times that you’d felt like this since you left Nancy’s. The idea of a PI tailing you fresh in your mind as you decide your next move. A gust of wind makes you cry out as it pierces your skin, your teeth chattering as you shiver violently. You cross, trying not to focus on the chain link fence that sways ahead of you. It could just be the wind, or your mind playing tricks on you.

Hyper-vigilance is something you learned long ago. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t checking over your shoulder in public. But this is different, this is something more sinister.

You slow your pace down as you pass the yard where you thought you saw movement. You scan out of your peripheral vision but there’s nothing there. Just an empty yard, grass muted and grey in the winter chill, not even a bush to hide in.

You sigh, trying to roll the tension out of your shoulders as you move on, you’re less than ten minutes’ walk away now. You watch as a black coupe pulls up a street over, parking up, engine off. But no-one exits the car. You would have missed it if it weren’t for how jumped up you are right now.

You know it’s stupid, you’re probably just imagining this as well. But you have to check on your hunch. You cross back over onto the other side of the street, trying to keep casual as your eyes lock on the vehicle up ahead.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach the passenger side window. You take a deep breath and knock on it before bending low to look inside the car. Your eyes go wide as you see the driver.

It’s Dave.

He reels back, recoiling from your gaze and you almost smile at the sight of the unflappable Dave York being startled.

“Can I get in?”

You ask as you gesture to the door handle. You hear the click of the electronic lock opening and pull the door open. You groan as you slump into the passenger seat, the heaters are on full, and you immediately feel your body warming through.

“I can explain-,” Dave starts but you wave your hand at him dismissively.

“I’m too cold,” you grumble as you close your eyes, “And hungry, and pissed off to talk right now. Can we go somewhere to eat and talk there?”

“Sure.”

And once again Dave doesn’t press, even though he must be flustered you’d caught him, doing what? Stalking you? No, this was an act of compassion. You crack your eyes open and look into the back seat to see your purse resting atop your coat. Dave to the rescue yet again. You should be annoyed, irritated that he’s bailing you out of yet another shitty situation. But all you can feel is gratitude.

You ride in silence for a little while, letting the warmth seep back into your bones as you curl and uncurl your toes. By the time the car comes to a halt you’re feeling a little more human. You flutter your eyes open to see the neon sign of a diner flashing at you.

“Does this fit the bill?” Dave asks as he kills the engine.

“Perfect.” You groan as you haul yourself out of the car, leaving your coat and purse behind. You know your phone is going to be filled with messages and missed calls, and you don’t want to face that right now.

You stride through the glass door and find a booth in the center of the diner. Dave hurries after you, anxious to keep up as he slides into the red and white pleather seat opposite you. The diner is loud and filled with the sound of cutlery scraping on plates and the buzz of multiple conversations echoing around the small space.

Dave looks wrecked, his hair is dishevelled, sticking out at all angles as he clenches his hands together on the table. His dark eyes flick around the diner as if searching for danger and you feel a pang of shame in your chest.

“Hey,” you say softly as you reach forward for his hands, “Are you alright?”

Dave blinks a few times, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“Me?” He scoffs, “You’re asking me if I’m ok? You’re the one that just got ambushed by Nancy and your father, calling you nothing short of a prostitute.”

Dave’s words sting but you can’t deny his candour.

“You’ve got a PI up your ass and a vindictive asshole of a wife,” you shrug as you see the waitress coming over, “I think we’ve both got it pretty rough.”

“What can I get y’all this evening?”

The interruption of the waitress is welcomed as you quickly order something off the menu. Dave gets the same and tells her to keep the coffee coming. You feel Dave’s ankle brush against yours and you don’t flinch away. You expect him to, but his eyes meet yours and there’s comfort there. You anchor yourself, and you expect it’s the same for him.

“So, how’d you find me?”

“Luck, a bit of intuition,” he shrugs, “There’s really only one route into central Austin without hitting the highway. Had to circle through a few neighbourhoods but you’re not exactly hard to spot, underdressed and on foot this time of night.”

You shrug, you had kept to the same road the whole time, crossing for sidewalk safety aside. But you’re not satisfied yet.

“How’d you know Ash lived in central Austin?” You question him further, seeing if you can poke holes in his story. You’re still not wholly convinced he’s telling you everything.

“You’re thorough. You must be formidable in court,” Dave says with a wide smile that makes his cheeks dimple. Do you detect a glimmer of pride in that smile? You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought. You’re so unused to genuine praise it catches you off guard, but you try not to let it distract you.

“Besides, you got home within an hour from leaving the club on your birthday, there’s no way you got an Uber out of the city and to her place in that time on a Friday night. It was the logical place for me to head towards.”

You nod slowly, your curiosity almost sated.

“Last one about finding me,” you say with a smirk as Dave raises an eyebrow at you playfully, “Why’d you come after me? Was it just to give me my things?”

“No, I wanted to make sure you were ok, that was a lot to go through in one evening. None of that should’ve happened. I’m so sorry it did.” He says as his smile falters, “And thinking about you walking an hour back into Austin on your own – at night – left me feeling,” he pauses, trying to find the right word, “Uneasy.”

“Thank you,” you say, meeting his gaze with warmth as you itch to reach out and touch him, “I really appreciate you doing that.”

“Of course, I’d do anything for you.”

His words surprise you and you swallow around a lump forming in your throat as you try to get back to the matter at hand.

“Right,” you nod as a mug of black coffee appears at your elbow, you thank the server and continue, “What the fuck is going on with you and Nancy? No bullshit this time, what’s your angle?”

Dave looks at you with a wry smile on his lips, his eyes wide as he tilts his head at you.

“Right down to it,” Dave responds with a sigh, “What do you want to know?” Dave asks and you’re caught off guard for a moment at his willingness to open up to you. He’s been a closed book so far, only giving you glimpses of his true feelings. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, like you’re stepping over a line.

“Why are you still with her?”

The question sounds petulant, even to your own ears, but it’s honest and you need to know.

“It’s complicated,” Dave says but puts his hand up before you can protest, you’re already ready to leave at those two words, your ankle moving away from his, “So, let me explain. It’s a lot.”

“Ok,” you concede as you lean back in the booth, “Start talking.”

“I don’t know how much Nancy told you,” Dave shifts in his seat, his voice low, “But you know I’m in the CIA right?”

“Yeah, some kind of pencil pusher ‘analyst’,” you say, making air quotes with your fingers as you speak, “The kind of nondescript role that means you’re actually knee deep in classified shit?”

Dave blinks for a moment, his brows raise as he tries to work out if you’re fucking with him.

“Dave, I was an attorney in New York for five years,” you roll your eyes, “You think I don’t know that every agency has a standard cover title?”

Dave lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as you swear you hear him laugh.

“Ok, fine, let's cut the shit,” Dave meets your gaze as he rests his chin on his clasped hands, elbows firm on the table, “I deal with some seriously dangerous people, and sometimes, no matter how careful we are, there are calls for retribution.”

You sober a little as you let the tension in your shoulders ease.

“Around the time I found out what kind of person Nancy is, one of those threats bore down hard on me and my team,” Dave takes a second, scanning the busy diner with a practiced caution. “And the threat hasn’t cooled off enough since for me to leave her. Nancy is collateral if we split.”

“You’re staying to keep her out of danger?”

Dave nods as the server comes over with your food. You thank her and she promises to come back and refill your coffee soon. You sit there for a while, eating slowly, chewing every bite as you steal glances at Dave.

“Am I a target?”

The question hangs in the air as you meet Dave’s gaze.

“We don’t think so, no.”

Your head snaps up from your meal and you’re almost offended as you stare Dave down.

“You’re not my daughter, and until very recently you lived in New York with little to no contact with your mother.”

“So what?” you add, “I’m not important enough to be profiled?”

“There’s been no evidence that you’ve been targeted,” Dave shrugs and there’s something unspoken there that makes your heart flutter.

“So, all that aside,” you probe further, “You know the prenup is bullshit, right? Like, invalid from the beginning?”

“Of course, I do,” Dave shrugs but a soft blush creeps up his neck as you call him out so hard, “You wrote it up for a New York client so it’s invalid in Texas. Conveniently, you’re not licensed to practise here. Plus, you have a conflict of interest seeing as Nancy is your mother, I wasn’t there at the signing or drawing up of the document, the list goes on.”

“But you’ve stayed to protect her?”

“Two-for-two,” Dave says with little emotion as he takes a long gulp of his coffee.

“This is all so fucked,” you groan as you push your plate to the side, “So you’re hoping she keeps fucking Danielle, and doesn’t serve you papers until after this threat passes?”

“Something like that,” Dave grunts and you feel for him. None of this is healthy.

“His name is Bryce, by the way. The man she’s sleeping with.”

You fumble for a moment, trying to keep up with the conversation. But you recognise the name, it’s someone your mother has complained about before.

“Bryce Hall? The president of the HOA?”

“The very same,” Dave affirms as he smirks at you, surprised you know him.

“Nancy used to text bitchy messages about him when she first moved in,” you explain, “She hated having to clear the sidewalk of leaves or something.

“Sounds about right,” Dave nods contemplatively, “Anything else you want to know?”

“Do you regret it?” You ask, keeping Dave’s gaze as you prepare for the worst, for him to tell you that you were a mistake.

“Regret marrying your mom? Of course I do-,” but you cut him off, shaking your head as your feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“No, do you regret what happened between us?”

“No,” Dave covers one of your hands in his own, his fingertips circling around your wrist, “But I need to know something before this conversation goes any further.”

You feel heat flood your body at sensation of his broad hand covering yours.

“Anything,” you nod.

“What happened with Kyle?”

You tense up under his touch and Dave starts to pull away, but you stop him. You thread your fingers through his as you pull him back to you. You need him right now, his grounding presence. He’s warm and it makes your heart clench to feel his skin on yours.

“So, Nancy wasn’t very good at staying sober, even when I was young,” you say, letting out a small sigh as you squeeze Dave’s hand, “It meant that her boyfriends were often left unsupervised with me.”

It’s Dave’s turn to squeeze your hand and you look up to see the rage in his eyes as his nostrils flare.

“Yeah, he wasn’t the only one to touch me,” you fidget in your seat a little, casting a look around the diner, as if to make sure no-one is listening.

“If this is too hard for you, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I asked.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I want to tell you, even if it’s hard.”

Dave rubs his thumb gently over your skin and you smile at the gentle encouragement.

“One night, Nancy was passed out on the sofa, it can’t have been later than eight,” you swallow, your guts twisting as your heart rate increases, you can feel the sweat beading on your brow, “I was reading in my room. Sprawled out in my pjs, music up, then Kyle came in.”

You pause as the server comes and takes your plates, filling your coffee before asking if you need anything else, you both decline. It’s a welcome break as you clear your throat, brushing tears from your eyes with your free hand.

“He started by just sitting on the bed, touching my leg, asking me what I was reading. It ended up with me pressed against the mattress, his hand smothering my face as he-,”

You can’t finish your sentence as you break down, the memory burned into your skin as you feel Dave pull away. You weep as your anxiety tells you that he’s left, your broken sob story too much for him to deal with. You’ve driven another person away with your drama, with your sad little life.

“I’m here.”

Dave’s voice is soft in your ear as he slides into the booth next to you. You look up to see him with his arms open, facing you. You don’t hesitate to throw yourself into his embrace, your fists balling in the fabric of his hoodie as you sob into his chest. His arms wrap around you gently, cradling your shoulders as he rests his chin on the crown of your head.

“He raped me Dave, I was a child and he fucking raped me.”

“I know, I know,” he says softly as he holds you close, “None of that was your fault, not a moment of it, you know that right?”

“I know, but after what Nancy said at dinner, I just can’t stop thinking I should have done more.”

“Nancy is a coward and a liar,” Dave growls, “You were a child, you should never have been put in that situation.”

“I hate her,” you cry as you fist your hands tighter in his hoodie, your face buried in his chest.

“I know,” he murmurs into your hair, and you hear the tightness in his voice. You know he’s keeping his own emotions under wraps here. But you know why he’s asked about this. You know where his mind is going.

“You’re nothing like them, like Kyle,” you say, almost to yourself as you ground yourself in the scent of Dave’s body wash, his shampoo. He smells like home.

“You don’t have to say that, you don’t have to do that.”

“I mean it,” you push back, your eyes bleary as you look up into Dave’s sad eyes. “I threatened him with the police at age fourteen, I have hard evidence against you.”

Dave’s jaw ticks to the side at the reminder but he nods slowly.

“I’m not a fourteen-year-old anymore, David,” you say, your voice firm as you hold his gaze, “I know how to say no, I know my own mind.”

“I know but-,”

“No, I know that you’re trying to protect me, again,” you shake your head pushing back from him as you straighten up, “But I need you to know that no matter what happens, I will never regret what we had.”

Dave nods his hands still on your shoulders as he looks you up and down.

“I am sorry that happened to you,” he says softly.

“This isn’t on you, Dave. You shouldn’t feel responsible for what happened.”

“I just don’t want to fail you, be another person who has let you down when you needed them most.”

“Dave, you’re here,” you say as you realise how close you are, “You’ve already done more than anyone else since I moved back.”

He’s silent now, his hands dropping from your shoulders as he nods curtly. He shuffles away from you on the seat, and you feel the hollow sting of rejection in your chest. Despite everything that happened tonight, you still need him. You know you’re pent up and vulnerable, but like always, it isn’t just about sex, or lust, or desire with Dave.

It’s love.

And finally admitting it to yourself only makes the hole in your chest expand. But you blink away the tears as you turn to see Dave looking just as pained as you feel.

“I should get you back to Ash’s place, I’ll need you to give me the address,” he says as he stands, throwing a handful of bills on the table.

“Yeah,” you nod, not trusting yourself to say anything more. You follow him out towards the black coupe. You lean over to grab your coat and purse, already dreading the state of your notifications. But you place them by your feet, not wanting to face the noise yet. You give Dave the address of Ash’s apartment block and let the sat nav fill the silence between you.

“Dave?” You break the silence and his eyes flick to you in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah?”

“I felt like I was being followed tonight, like there was someone with me from the moment I left the house,” you take a shaky breath, knowing how paranoid you sound, “Do you think it was the PI?”

“Probably,” he answers after a second, his tone flat, “He’s been sniffing around me for just over a month.”

“Shit, that’s around when Nancy hit you right?”

“Correct,” he nods as he pulls up at a set of lights, looking at you briefly with a sad smile, “That’s how she knew about your leaving with Ash.”

“I see,” you nod as it all fits together, “How long have you known?”

“From the moment she charged the first consultation on our joint credit card.”

You pause for a moment and your lips quirk up into an incredulous smirk.

“She didn’t seriously use your credit card to pay for a PI to follow you?”

“You can’t make this shit up, can you?” He chuckles and you throw your head back as you let yourself laugh at her lack of foresight.

“So, I guess kissing you goodnight is out of the question?” You say as Dave pulls up outside the apartment block.

“I don’t think-,” Dave starts as he puts his hands up to protest but you cut him off.

“I’m kidding Dave,” you say with a smile as you lean back on the headrest.

“Funny,” he says with a dry laugh as he shakes his head. You can’t think of a reason to linger so you gather your things and unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Goodnight, Dave,”

“Goodnight,” he says your name softly as you exit the car. You don’t turn back as you ascend the stairs, you know it will hurt too much if you see him watching you go. You’ve put yourself through enough emotional torture tonight, you might just break if you look back.

You fish your phone and keys out of your pockets but pause as you feel the crinkle of paper. You pull out a small envelope with your name on it and the following message.

Don’t play me until you’re alone.

~*~

Dave waits until he sees the front door close behind you before he relaxes in his seat. He sits there for a moment, collecting himself as he feels the anguish burning under his skin. He just wants to make it all go away, all of your grief, all of your hurt. He wants you safe, happy.

He loves you.

He’s pushed down that inappropriate word for weeks. Put his feelings down to lust, excitement, hell even the thrill of the taboo. But nothing about tonight was exciting, there wasn’t an ounce of lust in his body as he heard your mother debase and degrade you. There was no thrill in hearing how you were raped at fourteen and blamed for it. Nor in fully realising all the neglect Nancy and your dad put you through.

All he feels is a deep, festering hatred for your mother, and a desire to never let anyone hurt you like that again.

He picks up his phone and dials Resnik’s number.

“Hey, Boss, Nancy hasn’t stopped calling all night. I tried to make up some shit about having food poisoning, but she’s persistent.”

“Get back to my house, I’m going for a run for real this time, give her the photos she so desperately wants.”

“But, boss, I’m a couple of blocks away!” Resnik whines down the phone and Dave smirks to himself.

“Better start running Resnik, you’ve got twenty minutes. Don’t forget your camera!”

Dave hangs up before Resnik can complain, laughing at his subordinate from deep in his chest. He’s already heading back out of the city at pace. Needling Resnik like this felt like an adequate consequence to his lecherous comments earlier.

All he can hope is that Nancy’s off grovelling to Bryce when he gets back, because he has work to do. If he’s to be sure to come out of this unscathed, his story needs to be airtight. He needs to treat this like any other job, any other profile. There can’t be a single discrepancy or loose end.

He needs to talk to you about making sure your copies of your joint stream are stored offline to protect you both. He needs to get his team on scrubbing any screen recordings of that stream floating around the porn sites.

After tonight he knows Nancy will be on a war path. But he’s ready, and Nancy will never know what hit her.

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