The Wife Of A Close Friend
Daniel Cleaver × Fem! Reader (18+)
Synopsis: Part 2 - After successfully ruining (y/n)'s marriage to Mark Darcy, Daniel tries to make things right.
⚠️ TW: Raw P in V Penetration, Fingering, Mention of Cheating, Mild Daddy Kink, Alcohol Consumption (All Parties of Age), General Smut.
Daniel reached out via my work e-mail three days after Christmas with an invitation to dinner for an attempt at amends, and against my better judgement, I accepted. So here we are, at Le Gavroche, amending.
"So, (y/n)... how's Mr. Darcy then? Tad depressed, I'd imagine."
"I wouldn't know. He's still not taking my calls."
"Oh. Right...right. Tragic, that. I so hoped you two might work things out..."
"Hm. For some reason, I don't believe you." I smirk.
"Wasn't asking you to believe me. Listen, I-"
A waiter sets down two glasses and a chilled bottle before us and we simper up at him for breaking the awkward tension.
"Thanks," we patronize in unison and he flashes us an 'I'm not paid enough to deal with pricks like you' smile before turning to attend to another table.
Daniel pours our glasses and I take a long, much needed swig of the chardonnay he's ordered us, inhaling the notes as I do. It's tart, sweet...strong.
Closing my eyes, I sigh heavily before looking back up at him. He plays a good kicked puppy in a navy jacket and white button down, I'll give him that. Tonight however, I am determined not to fall for it... which is going to be a challenge if he keeps looking at me like he desperately needs something only I can provide.
My eyes snap down into my glass, as though its rapidly dwindling contents are of more interest or import than the gorgeous man sat pouting across from me.
"(y/n). I'm sorry. But I did mean what I said. I adore you. Obsess over you, Genuinely. Anyone could tell he wasn't satisfying to you, in any sense, you were so tense, so... twitchy."
"I strongly advise you not to act like you've done me any grand favors lately, Daniel."
"It does take two, you realize..."
I narrow my eyes at him. He's right and ultimately I should've slammed the door in his face, I should've hung up the phone at the sound of his voice, I should've done a lot of things... but I didn't. I picked up, I let him in, I fucked him... I loved it.
My cheeks burn and I bring the glass to my lips again, taking a quick gulp to finish it off.
"Hate you," I mumble under my breath, barely audible.
"you too,"
"Hm?"
"Hm?"
"Something-something you're so incredibly sorry for ruining my life?"
"Something like that..." a playful smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"Y'know...the worst thing about it is you're actually right? I wasn't happy with Mark. But that doesn't excuse your interference. Or my response to it. At all."
"Oh no, obviously not, couldn't."
"Never."
"Ever."
I have to laugh at how thick we're laying it on and he joins me. God, we're a mess.
"Daniel?...Are we...terrible people?"
He takes a sip of his wine, pondering.
"Terrible is a stretch, flawed certainly, indulgent, but I don't think we're terrible... definitely didn't feel terrible when we ..." he murmurs and his lower lip catches between his teeth as he looks up at me. "Did it?"
I can't help but flash him a smile, internally kicking myself as I sip my wine.
"It... didn't, it was still in very bad form, though and we should be ashamed, being adulterers..."
"Well, good. We've established that I'm a very bad boy, you're a very bad girl, together we've done some very bad things, and we are both just so terribly sorry for being so. very. bad.
But answer me something, (y/n)."
"Hm?"
"Why did you agree to come here tonight? It couldn't have been just to hear hollow apologies and make empty assertions about the badness of it all and watch me sulk into a plate of overpriced scallops..."
"Mm, no that's pretty much it, actually... if you wouldn't mind having a cry though, that would make it a little more worth my while," I simper.
"Come on, (y/n). You come here looking sexy as all hell in another of these... microdresses of yours, I do know a tailored Dior trench when I see one... Jo Malone perfume... heels... either you are an extremely high end call girl in your off hours, or you came here with the intention of seducing someone. I'm not opposed to either, but for posterity; which is it?"
"Neither, unfortunately for you. I just like to dress for an occasion-"
"So dinner with me is an occasion, then?"
"You are insufferable-"
"I am just asking,"
"Better question, why'd you invite me here? Is this really about 'making amends', or did you just want to take me out?"
"I don't see why it can't be about both."
I feel my smile grow wider at his words and he is charming.
But he did destroy my marriage, ruin my life, tarnish my reputation... give me the best orgasm I've ever had... and I let him do those things. In a way, the weight of our actions are a shared cross to bear, and with new year's eve tomorrow... I'd rather not feel its weight so heavily.
"Daniel...If I were to take a chance on you... let you in... I'd expect and require you not to make a fool of me."
"I don't think there's a man in the world who could successfully make a fool of you."
"You came pretty close."
"I don't remember coming at all, actually," he smirks. A beat. "Anyways, what I meant to say is: thank you, (y/n), for being here tonight. Your forgiveness would mean the entire world to me, if you do ever find it in your heart to offer it."
His brow furrows, eyes big and innocent as they study my face, he does seem genuinely sorry and maybe people do change.
"No promises."
We feast, drink, laugh, exchange Christmas stories, and after dinner Daniel orders us a cab to his flat for a nightcap.
As we step out of the car, I feel myself stumble a bit and he catches me, arm snaking around my waist to usher me into the lobby. We make a way to the elevator and as he selects a floor, I lean back against the wall, letting my eyes close for a moment.
My body is flushed and warm, head fuzzy, mind whirring, and all I could ever want right now, is for him to touch me... to kiss me. Instead, he speaks.
"(y/n), I just want you to know, there's no pressure for us to do anything here, yeah? Just...drinks. Just conversation. No tricks, no dancing, no Carly Simon, you have my word."
"I know better than to take you at your word, Mr. Cleaver."
"And I know," he steps closer, tilting my head up for eye contact "that when a pretty girl like you calls me 'Mr. Cleaver', it isn't because you respect me..." He smirks down at me, leaning in slowly.
As we kiss, Daniel's hands find their way under my coat, under my dress, and-
bing!
His floor.
I watch him fumble with his keys a little as he unlocks the door for me, hand wandering to the small of my back as he guides me inside.
He flicks on the lights, helping me shed my coat as we meander in, and this place is gorgeous. Open concept, spacious, white tiled floors, suede couches, exposed brick, it's glass walled... and overlooks the whole of the city. As I stand at the window, swooned by the skyline, Daniel extends a glass of champagne to me and I take it.
"What are we toasting?" I sip, looking up at him.
"You, and your generous decision not to hate me forever."
"Well-"
"Your generous decision to very kindly pause your hatred of me for the evening?"
I nod and we clink glasses, sip and stare out at London for a moment. Somewhere down in those bustling streets, Mark is holed up in his office, sullen, filing our divorce paperwork. But I've decided that tonight, just for one night, in this stupidly expensive downtown high rise, for the first time in 5 years, I do not need to be concerned with the goings on of Mark Darcy.
I'm snapped back to reality as Daniel's arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer as he finishes off his champagne. "So, contrary to what you've seen in movies, wistfully looking out the rain-pebbled window thinking about him will actually only make you feel worse, who knew?"
"I wasn't, I was just... admiring the view."
"Right. Come on Eleanor Rigby," he takes my glass and his own in hand, setting them down on the coffee table nearest the window. Daniel sweeps my legs out from under me and I let out a surprised squeal as he carries me, bridal style, into the bedroom, gently plopping me down onto the edge of his enormous bed.
I prop myself up on my elbows, confused. "Wh-"
"(y/n), I may be a posh twat with...ambiguous morals, doesn't mean I'll stand by idly and let you needlessly depress yourself over Mark-wanker-Darcy." He lifts a finger "Donnez-moi un instant, cherie."
Of course he speaks french and I watch him shed his belt, dress shirt and trousers, discarding all into a hamper in the corner of the room and tugging on a plain cotton t-shirt from his dresser. Daniel stands at the end of the bed before me. "Now then," he picks up one of my feet, working at the fastenings of my shoe, "let's get these dreadful contraptions off you..." he mumbles, popping the shoe off and tossing it aside before doing the same with the other.
"That's better. Stand for me, yeah?"
I slip off the end of the bed onto my feet before him and he steps closer, hands settling around my waist as he presses a kiss into my forehead. "Gorgeous,"
I feel one of his hands undoing the zipper of my dress and he helps me out of it, placing it on a hanger in the closet. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
Daniel's eyes meet mine and he lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm always nice to you. In fact, the last time we saw eachother, I believe I was extraordinarily kind to you..." his eyes flick down my frame for a moment and I watch him nip at his lower lip, brow furrowed as he opens up the dresser again, selecting a random rugby shirt and handing it to me. "There, pop that on and get in bed."
I do, and he's not far behind me, climbing under the covers and pulling me into his arms. Spooning. "I don't like seeing you in distress, (y/n)-"
"Pfft, yes you do-" I laugh.
"Well, sexually speaking, sure but... I just meant," he nuzzles into the hollow of my neck "I don't like seeing you unhappy," a peck "so, I'd like to do," his hand slips over my hip, fingetips ghosting cautiously over the front of my panties "everything in my power to please you, if you'll allow me?" He murmurs.
"I'd appreciate that, " I sigh.
"Would you?" He presses his body up against mine and he is hard. I gasp. "Daniel-"
"Mm?" he hums, "God I've misssed this, (y/n)...the way you feel..." He rubs slow, gentle circles into the front of my panties, I am wet and the friction is delicious as his other arm wraps around my torso, hand resting around my throat and squeezing just slightly.
I've missed him and I moan as he continues grinding against my ass, my core tensing as his grip on my neck tightens. "Those gorgeous little sounds you make..." He lets out a low groan and my mind goes foggy. Heat takes my body over as his fingertips finally find their way under the hem of my panties, gently exploring my folds, slowly gliding up and down the center of my vulva and another gasp escapes me as I rock against his fingers. He carefully dips them into me, curling upward, and I feel myself clench around them in response. The hand around my throat snakes under the hem of the shirt and comes to rest over one breast, lightly playing with a nipple and I need him. "D-Danielll?" I breathe
"Mhmm?"
"I need you t-to fuck mee, please...pleease..." I whine.
"And I will. But only because you ask so nicely..." he withdraws his fingers, giving them a quick taste before helping me shimmy freshly saturated panties down my legs, pushing his oversized shirt higher up my hips. "Turn over." I lay on my stomach and look back at him as he undresses, first goes the shirt... the boxer-briefs... he props my hips... de ja vu.
He's beautiful with swollen lips and disheveled hair, and I watch him align himself with me, eyes locking onto mine.
"Are you ready?"
I nod.
"Words, (y/n)."
"Yess, pleease-"
I gasp and he's inside me instantly. The dilation is intense as he sinks into me and I let out a small yelp.
"Come on, pretty girl... You can take it...Doing so well for me..." I watch Daniel bite his lip, letting out a low groan, and he allows me a moment to adjust to him before starting to move in and out of my center in long, steady strokes.
"Still tight as a fucking bow-string then, mm?" I hear him mutter under his breath.
"Not. For. Long."
I feel myself clench a couple times and seconds later he's ramming into me at a rapid pace, our bodies clapping against eachother as he holds my hips firmly in place. I feel fingers lace into my hair, he yanks my head back fiercely as he continues fucking me and I'm panting, close.
"Danielll?" I whine, tightening up.
"Yesss??"
"Daddyyy?"
"Mhmmm?"
"I-I'm gonna come!"
"Ohhh, oh fuck me-!"
Our orgasm is simultaneous, mind-blowing and Daniel buries his face in the crook of my neck as he finishes, hips slowing gradually.
"Hmm... that was fucking sensational...you. are. incredible. "
"Thank you-u" I stammer. He pulls out of me with a squelch and retrieves his t-shirt from the floor, first cleaning himself off, then placing it gingerly between my legs as I let my body go completely slack against the bed.
Daniel situates himself behind me so we're spooning again and pulls the covers up over us, arms wrapping tightly around me.
"Are you feeling any better, then?" He huffs, draping a leg over mine.
Part 3》
"Much..." I nod, trailing off. My mind is a haze and I feel my eyes start to close as Daniel presses a soft kiss into my temple.