content: Adam asked for your number, but instead of calling you right away he spends three days hesitating feeling as if you weren't waiting on his call. You take matters into your own hands, and now he claims he owes you something to make it up to you.
words: 2.5k
cw: MDNI 18+ reader is younger than him, age gap is unspecified, but makes him feel old (that could be five years let’s be honest), porn with little plot, p in v, fingering, car sex
a/n: this isn’t proof read in the slightest and I apologize if it’s a giant word vomit
Adam Daeglish had once said he was too old to feel sexy. He was too old to date, especially a woman as young as yourself, but it hadn’t stopped his mind from wandering to you. He wasn’t even meant to ask for your number, but the way your eyes lit up when he had made him feel a little less guilty over it.
But once he got home he hadn’t dialed you like he had originally planned. He felt dirty. He felt sick. He was a sick, dirty, pervy old man praying on a younger, beautiful woman who most definitely deserved better than the likes of him.
He stared at the phone debating it for the third night in a row. It was rude, incredibly, but he didn’t really suspect that you were sitting around waiting for him to call. He sighed, placing the phone back on the receiver taking a step away from it.
He didn’t get far when it began to ring, he let out a sigh assuming it was work, “Dalgleish,” he greeted.
“So, you do exist. I was beginning to think you may have been a figment of my imagination.”
Though he had only heard your voice once he instantly recognized it. He closed his eyes, picturing your face with your bright smile and eyes that gleamed with mischief. He didn’t speak at first, lost in thought. “Hello?”
His eyes shot open, “RIght! Hello. I am very much real,” he confirmed.
You laughed, causing him to smile, the fluttering in his chest made him feel like a school boy rather than an old man. “You asked for my number, and then never called. That is quite rude, Mr. Dalgelish.”
“I apologize… I did not think you fancy a call from me,” he admitted.
“I would not have given you my number if I had not wanted you to call. I ended up just searching for you in the book.”
He hummed, smiling to himself at the thought of you searching for his number, but then he felt bad for not having called you when he had originally planned to… the first time.
“I apologize for not calling you. How can I make it up to you?” he questioned.
He could hear you clicking your tongue, as you no doubt thought of a reply, “You can take me to dinner. Then you shall be forgiven,” you told him
“And if I was going to do that anyways?”
“You were not, but then I shall have to think of something else.”
Adam Dalgliesh was a sweetheart. He picked you up at your flat ten minutes before we discussed, he brought you flowers, and he was dressed nicely in a dark blue sweater. But boy was he nervous, and you would have laughed if you hadn’t felt bad.
He was a complete gentleman like you expected. He opened and closed the doors for you, he kept his hands to himself even when guiding you into the restaurant, and his eyes didn’t wander down to your chest instead stayed trained on your face the entire time you scanned through the menu.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” you assured him, with a small smile. You hesitated a moment staring at his hand before reaching forward wrapping yours around his.
“That obvious?” he asked, to which you only nodded lightly. “I haven’t done this in a while.”
“Neither have I,” you confessed.
He chuckled slightly, “You do not have to lie to me to make me feel better.”
“I would not do that. I haven’t been on a date since my boyfriend died a few years ago,” you winced once the words left your lips, “Sorry. I was told not to bring that up on the first date.”
“No, that's quite alright. I haven’t done this since my wife passed.”
You too stared at each other before you let out a laugh, which caused him to join in, “Christ, we are sad sacks,” you muttered, smiling at him.
He smiled at you nodding his head, “It appears that way.”
Dinner passed by afterwards without a hitch. Conversation flowed with ease, his eyes starting to wander staring at your lips, and your hands began to linger on top of his, on the table. The treal trouble began on the ride home. You kept your eyes trained on his hands as they rested on the shifter. You kept looking at him only finding him looking at you, before turning away with a bashful smile, a blush no doubt spreading across his face, but was currently hidden in the dark car.
Your eyes glimmered with mischief, “Pull off here,” you said, indicating the small opening hidden by trees.
His eyebrows furrowed, but nonetheless did as he was told placing the car in park, “Are you al–” his words were cut off as your mouth met his. His hands immediately moved, cupping your face, gently, as if you were made with glass. As if you were something precious to hand rather than a woman trying to jump his bones in the middle of nowhere.
It only made the warmth in your belly spread. The kiss was clunmisy at first, two people trying to learn each other for the first time, but it slowly progressed into more. It turned hungry as quickly at it had started, a clash of teeth and tongues trying to claim each other like you were starved. As if this would be the last time you could enjoy something that felt this damn good.
You were not one to do this. To be kissing a man like this on the first date, to want him to take you in his car, but God there was something about him. He was different. He was kind. He is gentle. He was just a decent human being, a type you did not think existed anymore.
And you knew he was having some existential crisis. He was more than likely trying to talk himself out of this, that this was wrong, and he shouldn't shame you like this, but then you slipped your tongue into his mouth and you hoped it calmed the voices, but even then you did not really care.
You would take the ethical crisis, and destroy it slowly over time to show him that you wanted him. Despite whatever silly, irrational thoughts told him you didn't. You did. God you fucking wanted him.
You slid over into his lap, the steering wheel driving into your lower back slightly, but you could hardly register anything that wasn’t his hands that hesitated by your hips. Your hands moved, grabbing his and placing them where he wanted them. Your skirt rode up slighting as you straddled him. You could feel his growing member underneath you as your mouth moved to pepper kisses down his throat.
He groaned at the feeling, his hands gripping harder into your sides. As you moved your hips slightly, grinding against him, testing the water on how far he was willing to go.
“This is a bad idea,” he muttered, as you nipped the base of his throat. You only hummed in response, your fingers slipping underneath his sweater, pulling the shirt from his pants so your nails could rake against his chest.
He shuttered under your touch, causing you to grin. “This is how you can make it up to me,” you mumbled pulling, back pulling to look at him.
The dim streetlight that reached you illuminated his face very little, but you could see the way his eyelids half lidded, pupils blown with lust, and the way his hands trembled at your side as if they were itching to do more.
“This is not how I am making it up to you.”
You smiled as you tilted your head at him, “Do you wanna stop?” you asked.
He hesitated for a moment, staring up at you. Mouth opening and closing, before he swallowed harshly, you watched the bob of his throat resisting the urge to lick it as you awaited his answer, “No I don’t want to stop,” he finally admitted.
‘Well, good then we’re in agreement.” You moved forward connecting your lips once more. Electricity filled it, pure want driving the pair of you.
You could feel his hand finally move from your hip, sliding in between your thighs. His fingers met the resistance of your drenched panties, and you swore you felt him grin against your mouth, but you did not have time to ponder it as his fingers slipped past the barrier, his thumb meeting your swollen clit, as his digits ran up your folds slighting gathering the slickness onto them.
You groaned, your head pulling back as he entered inside you. His thumb circled your clit, your hand moving to grip his shoulder, finger digging into trying to ground yourself. He entered another inside you curling his fingers inside you causing you to cry out even further. The car became filled with gasping breaths and his name that slowly turned louder with each stroke of his hand.
“I need…” You couldn’t finish the thought, but you needed more. You needed him inside you, so he could fall apart with you. You wanted to hear him moan your names as you did his. You wanted to feel his cock deep inside you, filling you, making you feel drunk until the only thing you could think about was him.
Not that you were far off currently, and he only had two fingers inside you. The familiar sense of relief was slowly creeping up on you, threatening to claim you if he keeped up for much longer, causing you to rock your hips against his hand slightly, chasing it.
“What do you need, pretty girl?” he questioned, his fingers continuing to work in and out of you. The coil in your belly is threatening to snap. “Tell me what you need and I will give it to you, pretty girl,” he whispered, his voice low, raw with lust.
You did not get to answer as your orgasm washed over you, as you cried out his name, his fingers continued riding you through it, until you were whining slightly, pushing his hand away as tears threatened to spill down your face from overstimulation.
He finally pulled his fingers from you, as you turned off to the side grabbing your purse from the floor digging through it blindly, completely missing the way he took his digits into his mouth licking them clean. He closed his eyes, groaning slightly as if he was savoring the taste of you.
Finally your fingers met the aluminum package, sitting up slightly, as one hand nimbly undid his belt, then you free his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. He was long, thick, as close to perfect as you think one could look, and now you were even more excited to take it.
“My friend gave it to me as a gag,” you said, as you opened the condom with your teeth, your hand stroking his cock slightly, he was heavy in your hand, and groaned slightly as soon as the flesh of your hand met him.
“Bless her,” was all he said, but the words came out more breathy than they were supposed to, causing the tip of his ears to burn.
You didn’t seem to mind, a grin on your lips as you seemed to relish in the fact he was slowly turning more putty than man. His brain felt like mush. He felt as if there was no way this was the usual sharp mind that solved murder and wrote poetry, as you rolled the condom over his length.
You lifted your hips sinking down onto him, you hadn’t even removed your panties simply sliding them off to the side, showing you were just as eager for him as he was you. Your eyes rolled back slightly as how full you now felt. You swear you could feel him in your belly, the thought of him rearranging your internal organs causing you to clench
Your hand moved, gripping the dark hair at the nape of his neck giving it a tug as you moved your hips grinding against him. “You feel so good,” he muttered, his hands gripping into your hips like a vice, sure to leave bruises in your wake. He felt you clench around him at the sound of his voice.
He allowed you to set the pace, being in full control. He leaned back slightly, gripping you to him, “You write poetry and all you can think of is good?” you joke, grinding against him, but the laugh turned into a moan as he thrust up into you.
“I will write poetry about this experience after.”
It was the one of the last full sentences either of you could make as you continued to ride him. The only words leaving your lips being each other's names and curses filled with pleasure. The windows in the car all began to fog as heavy breaths left before your lips. Your nails scratched the back of his neck, his face was buried in your clothed chest, his hand slipping underneath the fabric to pinch your hardened nipples through your bra.
You cried out slightly, your hips continuing to meet his as the material of your panties rubbed against your clit causing your clit. Your senses began to overload as the warmth in your belly spread all over, another orgasm creeping up over the horizon threatening to claim you once more. A thought that only caused you to move your hips faster, taking him deeper determined to feel release once more.
"Give me another one, pretty girl,” he commanded, as he felt you begin to clench around him like a vice. He needed you to fall over the edge once more, because he knew he was sure to follow.
His words were your undoing as your head moved, resting on his shoulders, going flaccid as the waves of ecstasy consumed you. He took over thrusting up into you, fucking you through your high, chasing his own.
He thrust, Once, Twice, burying himself further as his cock twitched, ropes shooting out into the condom as he let out a low groan that reminded you more of an animal than the gentle man who had taken you to dinner.
You both trembled, clutching to each other harshly as he lifted your head, connecting your lips together once more. It was soft and tender, a stark contrast to the hunger clash that occurred moments ago. You smiled as you pulled away resting your head on his shoulder once more, trying to catch your breath as his cock began to soften slightly inside you.
“I still owe you,” he panted out, causing you to laugh.
You lifted your head from his shoulders with a smile spread across your lips as you shook your head at him, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“There will be a next time?” he asked, a grin spread across his own lips, you could see the excitement on his face even in the dark of night, as your arms draped over his shoulders, leaning in, but not pressing your lips to his just yet.
“Well obviously you still have to make it up to me.”
#cats of tumblr
#lana del rey
#horror movies
#photography
