davelizewskiwife

[davelizewskiwife]

Toxic Obsession

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re a scientist working on a serum that enhances physical strength and agility, unknowingly funded by Kraven. When your lab is destroyed by a rival organization, Kraven finds you and takes you under his protection. As he becomes more possessive, you realize he sees you as more than a partner—he sees you as his greatest creation.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The acrid smell of burning chemicals lingered in the air, clinging to your clothes as you stumbled out of the wreckage. The lab, your sanctuary, your life's work, lay in ruins behind you. Flames crackled in the distance, and the night sky was painted in hues of smoke and ash. You clutched a small metal case to your chest, the only surviving sample of the serum you'd been perfecting for months. Enhanced physical strength, agility—a breakthrough in human potential. But now it was all gone.

Gone, except for him.

“You should be more careful,” a low, familiar voice drawled from the shadows. You froze, your heart pounding as Kraven emerged from the darkness, his presence as commanding as ever. He moved with the grace of a predator, his eyes locked on you with unsettling intensity.

“Kraven,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of relief and apprehension. “You’re here.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping closer. “I always keep an eye on what is mine.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, the possessiveness in his tone impossible to ignore. You knew Kraven’s involvement in your project wasn’t entirely altruistic. He’d funded your research, provided the resources you needed to push the boundaries of science. But his interest in the serum went beyond scientific curiosity. It was personal.

“They destroyed everything,” you said, your voice hollow. “The equipment, the data… everything except this.” You held up the case, and Kraven’s eyes gleamed with approval.

“Good,” he murmured. “You did well to save it.”

“But why?” you asked, your voice rising in frustration. “Why would someone target the lab?”

Kraven’s expression darkened. “Rival hunters,” he said simply. “They want what I have. What we have.”

You took a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “So what happens now?”

Kraven’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Now, you come with me. You’re not safe here.”

Before you could protest, he closed the distance between you, his large hand wrapping around your wrist. His touch was firm, unyielding, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

“I can’t just leave,” you said, trying to pull away. “I need to rebuild the lab. I need to—”

“Your work is over,” Kraven interrupted, his voice low and commanding. “The serum is complete. And now, it’s time for you to fulfill your true purpose.”

“My true purpose?” you echoed, your stomach twisting with unease.

He nodded, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “You created the serum to enhance human potential. But you don’t see it, do you? You are the perfect candidate. You understand the science better than anyone. You… will become my hunting partner.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What? No. That’s not… That’s not what I wanted.”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted,” Kraven said, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “It matters what is needed. And I need you.”

You shook your head, panic rising in your chest. “This isn’t right, Kraven. I’m a scientist, not a hunter. I didn’t make the serum for this.”

“But you did,” he said, his voice softening as he cupped your face with his free hand. “You just don’t realize it yet. The serum was never about making someone stronger or faster. It was about creating something… perfect. And you, my dear, are perfect.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you tried to pull away again. “You can’t make me do this.”

Kraven sighed, his expression hardening once more. “You misunderstand. I’m not making you do anything. I’m giving you a choice. You can stay by my side, embrace what you’ve created, and become something greater than you ever imagined. Or you can leave, knowing that the world will never be safe for you again.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders. You knew Kraven well enough to understand that his offer wasn’t entirely selfless. He saw you as a prized possession, his greatest creation. But there was a twisted kind of care in his gaze, a desire to protect what he considered his.

“And if I stay?” you asked quietly.

His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. “Then I will keep you safe. I will teach you to hunt, to survive. And together, we will be unstoppable.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. The idea of becoming a hunter, of embracing the serum’s potential, terrified you. But the alternative—walking away from Kraven and everything you’d built—felt equally impossible.

“I need time,” you said, your voice trembling. “Time to think.”

Kraven studied you for a long moment before nodding. “You have until dawn,” he said. “Then, we leave.”

The hours passed in a blur as you paced the small cabin Kraven had taken you to. The serum case sat on the table, a constant reminder of the choice you had to make. Your mind churned with conflicting thoughts—fear, anger, curiosity. The potential of the serum was undeniable. But was it worth sacrificing your humanity for?

As dawn approached, you heard the soft creak of the door opening. Kraven stepped inside, his gaze locking onto you immediately.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked, his voice calm but expectant.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ll stay. But on my terms.”

Kraven’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then he chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “You continue to surprise me,” he said. “Very well. We do this your way. For now.”

As he approached, you felt the tension in the room shift. There was an unspoken understanding between you—a dangerous dance of power and control. Kraven might see you as his greatest creation, but you refused to be reduced to a mere possession.

“One more thing,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not just your partner. I’m your equal.”

Kraven’s gaze darkened, a flicker of something primal crossing his features. “We’ll see about that,” he murmured, his lips curling into a predatory smile.

And as dawn broke, casting light across the ruins of your old life, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the right choice—or if you’d just stepped into the most dangerous hunt of all.

Please support my work with like and comment

[davelizewskiwife]

MINORS DNI 18+

DAVE LIZEWSKI catfishing you. He’s seen you around, he’s heard you talk about the kind of guys you’re into. It’s hard to ignore you when you pass by him, hard to forget the smell of your shampoo as it unfurls under his nose. It took him ages, but he finally got a hold of your information, and slowly establishes a friendship. He’s getting the dirty details on you while you think you’re being charmed by a 6’4” hockey player who’s into books like Pride and Prejudice. He’s in your IM’s hearing about how you like to suck it, how you cup balls for a massage while you make yourself gag on purpose. You like it when your nips are bitten, held between teeth while you ride it. All night he thinks about your naughty little secrets, confessing to him what you’d let him do to you if you meet up. Anything, you say, I’d let you do whatever you wanted. And his hand strangles his boner, jacking off to the imaginary sight of you taking it up your pretty asshole—the one he’s gotten pics of when you bent over for a shot of your open and wet pussy.

[davelizewskiwife]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 (𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Tangerine’s back, heaven can wait

tags n warnings: song!fic, dom!tangerine, language, face sitting, marking, harsh, overstimulation, praise/degradation kink, tie, teasing, begging, cum eating, unprotected piv, slight breeding, aftercare. word count: 2.6k.

masterlist

Tangerine was far away, and your body was already feeling the effects of the distance. You were more distracted, sleeping more, yet still anxious, constantly checking your phone for a text or a call from him. You knew he was busy with work, so it wasn’t unusual to get a message at some random hour or even in the middle of the night, just him saying he loved you.

But today was different. Today was the day you’d finally see him again. You woke up to a text saying he’d gotten into town late last night and had to handle some things with Lemon before he’d be free to give you all the attention you’d been craving.

You: So, are we going out tonight?

Tan: Yeah, babe. Dress up real nice for me.

You: Ugh, my heart just skipped a beat. What time you coming by?

Tan: What time’s good for you?

You: Anytime that works for you, Tan.

Tan: Alright then, 6 o’clock.

The hours seemed to drag, and you couldn’t stop checking your phone, rereading his messages like some kind of lovesick fool. You kept second-guessing your outfit, your makeup, everything. What would you do when you saw him? Where would he take you? Tangerine always managed to surprise you, and it was one of the things you loved most about him.

By mid-afternoon, you were already dressed, slipping into the black dress he’d given you—the one he said looked perfect on you. It clung to you in all the right places, a little piece of him wrapping around you like a memory. You could barely sit still, and by the time the clock hit six, you were practically buzzing with anticipation.

When the doorbell finally rang, your heart leapt. Opening it, there he was—Tangerine, standing there with that cocky, lopsided smile and those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through you.

“Damn, love,” he cheered, giving you a slow once over. “You get more gorgeous every time I see you. C’mere and give your man a hug.”

He opened his arms, and you didn’t hesitate, throwing yours around his neck as he pulled you close. The kiss that followed was nothing short of electric, the kind that left you both breathless, all the pent-up longing pouring out in one touch.

“My makeup’s gonna be ruined before we even leave,” you teased, though you didn’t sound like you really cared.

“You know how much i love to ruin you,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, slower this time, his hands settling on your waist.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling the smudge of lipstick on both your lips. You’d missed him too much to care.

“Got us a reservation at your favorite spot. What d’you feel like eatin’, babe?” he asked, leaning back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip as he tilted your chin up.

“I don’t know,” you responded, your eyes flicking to his mouth before meeting his gaze again. “What about you?”

He exhaled through his nose, his thumb tracing the curve of your lip again as his eyes locked onto yours. “You.”

“Oh yeah?” you whispered, your voice a little breathless, your chest brushing his as you felt the space between you shrink.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, his lips finding yours again, more heated this time, as he backed you into the house, kicking the door shut behind him.

Tangerine pressed you up against the wall, his body firm against yours as his hands traveled down, exploring every inch of you through the soft fabric of the dress, eyes lingering on your hips, waist and breasts.

“You look so damn good in this dress, love,” he remarked, his fingers tracing the hemline before sliding back up to your waist, his blue eyes drinking in every detail.

You smiled, locking the door behind you and slipping the key into his jacket pocket. “Still feel like going out to dinner?”

“Fuck the dinner, it can wait,” he replied, grinning as he pulled you in for another kiss, more desperate this time, guiding you further into the house to your room that never forgot his smell.

He pulled your neckline down, revealing your warm breasts and nipples already hard from the explosive excitement inside you. “There they are… my girls…” he breathed, palming the flesh in his hands, squeezing, cupping the weight, lifting them.

He rolled the small spot with his thumb, watching your body tremble at the touch. He licked his lips before brushing your mouths together, savoring the moment with his tongue massaging yours with his fingers on your nipples, giving a light tug before his palms calmed and pressed the skin again, marking it with red he loved to see.

“When you stop playing around, we can go to the main course.” You teased, the heat agonizing inside you, crying to have him filling you again.

“Manners, love.” He scolded softly, squeezing your face in his calloused hand and pulling you dominantly towards him. “You know the appetizer comes first, don’t try to rush my dinner.”

“I want you so much, Tan—please… it's been a long time,” You begged, trembling at the burning sensation between your legs, your eyebrows knitted together. “I want it so bad.”

He laughed at your desperation, moving one of his hands down to your thigh and slapping the skin before lifting his member to his waist. “Take off your clothes, ‘m gonna take care of you.”

He commanded, releasing your thigh and watching you do as he told, sliding the silk over your body, letting it fall to the floor, your skin covered only by the thin lacey panties. “Wonderful.” He praised, biting his lower lip.

You fought the urge to cover your body, you knew Tangerine could spend unbelievable hours looking at you. But this time, he just walked over to the bed, took off his blazer, loosened his tie and took off his shoes, lying down on the bed next.

“C’mere, love.” He ordered gently again and you followed him to the bed, standing on the side. He looked at you again and smiled. “Sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened briefly, the air leaving your mouth heavy at his tone. This was the appetizer. You hurried to take off your panties, placing your fingers on the hem. “Stop.” He interrupted and you looked at him. “Turn around and take ‘em off slowly.”

“Yes.” You replied sheepish, turning the way he wanted and slowly lowering the fabric, taking the opportunity to tease a little with your ass up, giving a sight of the small sticky strand stuck to your panties.

“That's it—that's right… yeah, like this.” he grunted and you heard the sound of his belt opening, followed by the sound of a zipper. You lowered it down your legs, taking your time on your heels, a little torture before throwing it on the floor and turning to Tangerina completely naked.

He knit his eyebrows together at the view, touching your thigh, moving up your hip and finally to your belly, going down until he touched the wet folds, making light circles on your clit. He grinned and looked at you, watching you place your knees on either side of his face before going down on his mouth.

“Shit— fucking delicious pussy…” he breathed, opening your folds, drinking in every detail with his eyes, lifting his head to touch his nose to your clit, shaking it.

“Tangerine...”

You gasped, looking at the scene and judging by his dizzy expression, he was loving it. Wiggling his nose once more before pulling your hips hard and burying his face there with his entire mouth along the length, sucking the spot. “Shit, shit.”

His tongue began to work on the spot with short and quick licks, drawing circles and eights figures, digging his fingers in the cheeks of your ass, holding them in place as you trembled in his mouth.

Tangerine looked like a starving man, grunting and breathing deeply, his face contorted with immense pleasure, his eyes closed.

“Tan… Tan… It’s so good, so good. Don’t stop, please.” You were a mess of moans, ultra sensitive, rocking your hips against his face and having to hold yourself with your hands on the mattress to keep from succumbing.

He slapped your thigh, pulling you closer to his tongue, getting faster and faster, knowing you were close. He opened his eyes, you shivered with the eye contact, getting closer and closer to that feeling, knowing full well that Tangerine wouldn't stop until you came and wet his whole face and neck as he loved to feel it.

Chasing this growing sensation, you pressed yourself on his lips, exploding in an overwhelming orgasm, almost falling, but he managed to hold you by the waist, not stopping his tongue for a second to prolong the sensation.

"Stop, Tan... Stop, it's too much—" you begged, shaking uncontrollably. He didn't answer, just touched his nose to the spot, breathing in the essence and licking slowly once more until he licked all the liquid that was spilled.

"You're so— fucking delicious." He murmured, pushing his face away and you fell onto the mattress, still in shock, watching him finally lower his pants and underwear, revealing his wet, veiny cock. "Like to feel your taste and scent on my face, remains on my mustache, it's fucking good."

He was aching. You didn’t need to touch him to know he was rock hard. Tangerine collected the wetness on his chin and moisturized his cock with it, pumping his length. His breathing was uneven, a glint of sweat on his forehead that he wiped away with the back of his hand, flashing you that signature smirk.

“All fours. Ass up.”

“Yes, Tan.” You spoke almost in a weak whisper, getting into the desired position with your head on the pillow waiting for his touch.

“Spread your legs for me, love.”

You did so, spreading them as wide as you could on the mattress, his blue eyes scanning you as he positioned himself between your legs, freeing himself from the tie.

“Your arms, please,” He added and you obediently lifted them behind your back, feeling the fabric tie your wrists. You were sure he was smiling. “Is it too tight, love?”

“No. It's—perfect, Tan.” You breathed, looking at him over your shoulder.

“I love seeing you surrender like this for me.” He commented, slapping your ass before burying his cock in your entrance all at once, eliciting a moan from you. “So beautiful f’ me, all open.”

“Tangerine, please…” you begged, grinding your hips on his pelvis, receiving nothing more than a slap in response and his hands holding you in place.

“Shhh, take your time.” He shushed, caressing the red skin with affection, lowering his face to your ear. “Wanna eat slowly. Savor it. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes— I do…” you agreed, nodding frantically, he clicked his tongue at that and bit your earlobe.

“Are you that hungry for my cock, darling?” He murmured, pulling his cock out slowly, making you feel every inch intentionally coming out of your soaked canal. “I can feel your greedy pussy sucking me inside. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, that’s what I want, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You whimpered, writhing on the mattress as he thrust in again, your back arching. “That’s it. Fuck— yes. More. More.”

He snorted, tugging on your hair, looking at your messy face. “What a cocksleeve you are. You just came on my face and you already want more?” He teased with his slow withdrawal again, laughing when you squealed, rocking your hips with just the tip inside. “You said you missed me, but you just wanted my cock fucking you dumb, don't you, my pretty little slut?”

“No, i missed you, Tan. Really— I did.” you gasped, grinding again, desperate for any contact. Ineffective.

“Really? That's not what i see…” he provoked, taking off his cock and slapping his tip on your tantalized clit. “Tell me what you want… Tell me, princess.”

“I want you…” you begged and he released your hair, pressing a kiss to your mouth before moving up again.

“I can’t leave my girl hungry, can I?” he cooed and finally penetrated her again, keeping a fast pace, as intense as the desperation you felt.

“Oh, fuuuck…” you screamed, struggling to stay in place without your arms. Tangerine noticed this and let go of your wrists, you immediately leaned back, crying when he angled his body to put only in the spongy spot.

“Oh, crying already?” He cooed, pulling you by the neck to press your bodies together without losing the rhythm. “You said you wanted this. So take it—fuck—fucking take it all.”

He pressed his hand on your belly, intensifying the contact while the other held your body by the breasts. His head went to your neck, licking and marking your skin, matching your entire flushed body with the red marks from Tangerine’s fingers and palms. His thrusts became more clumsy, you knew he wouldn’t be able to take it and neither would you. Knowing this, he doubled his efforts and turned your face for a sloppy and desperate kiss.

Your blurred eyes looked into his, who were determined to make you get there first, lowering your body again and fitting his face into your neck.

“Come on, love. Cum for me.” He encouraged, taking a deep breath as he felt his own orgasm growing and getting closer and closer with your pussy squeezing him.

“…Tangerine.” You screamed, spilling yourself, your pleasure mixing with his as he began to shoot long white ropes into your womb.

“Fuck, you’re perfect—perfect.” he murmured, groaning loudly as he released everything with slow thrusts. He lingered for a moment longer, moving up, kissing your shoulder, scapula, mid—back until he was completely straight.

Tangerine got down and stood on the bed while you collapsed on the sheets, turning to lie on your back. His eyes went to your entrance covered in his dripping seed. He sat next to you and touched his fingers there, bringing them to your mouth to taste it, then took it to his, closing his eyes.

You looked at him, taking in the sight—Tangerine, his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his usual sharp edge softened by the tenderness in his expression. He looked so damn good like this, completely relaxed and completely yours. Moments like this were your favorite, the kind where it felt like the world outside didn’t even exist.

“Now I gotta redo my makeup,” you broke the silence with a teasing grin. “Pretty much my whole body, actually.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head before leaning in to kiss you, his lips brushing yours gently. “You don’t need to. You look perfect just like this,” he murmured, his smile warm as he reached up to tuck your messy hair behind your ear, his thumb trailing softly across your cheek.

“What about our reservation?” you brought up, the thought suddenly crossing your mind.

He chuckled again, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back in that effortlessly charming way that made your stomach flip.

“Oh yeah, the reservation,” he repeated, his tone light as his eyes scanned the room before coming back to meet yours. With a smirk and a raised brow, he added, “Guess I’ll just call and move it to another night.”

“Can you even do that?” you wondered aloud, shifting closer to sit beside him, your shoulder brushing his arm as you settled in.

“I can do anything for my girl,” he said quietly, his voice low and smooth as he leaned in to give you another quick kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “I just don’t wanna leave my baby alone. I'll stay, heaven can wait.”

[davelizewskiwife]

you're my drug (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, sexual imagery, foul language, mentions of drugs/tobacco

summary: after you got caught making out with Eric at rehab, everything suddenly spirals into something much deeper

word count: 5,022 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part two of draw you! enjoy!!<3

As I stood in the courtyard, kicking some rocks along during my lap around the premises, I couldn't help but wonder when I would see Eric again. It had been a week since we were caught making out in his room, and I had just gotten out of a two-day solitary confinement— it was definitely a harsher punishment than expected. Then again, I should've known; this place was an absolute shithole. 

The worst part of the ordeal was having to write down my feelings and get another check from the warden, along with questions about whether or not I was a nymphomaniac. Excuse me?

Had Eric gotten a harsher repercussion than me? Maybe he had been moved to a different rehabilitation center? I didn't want to think about it. Again, I shouldn't be worrying about a stranger I barely knew. It was a little reckless of me to care for someone who had drawn me naked— now that I wasn't in a state of arousal, it dawned on me how creepy that actually was.

But then again... I had been the one to jump him. That was on me. Had I not offered up, I wouldn't feel so attached to him. 

... Maybe I was a nymphomaniac? Fuck.

So when I eventually lost track of where I had kicked my stone, I started looking for new ones. And it was during my hunt for entertainment that I eventually spotted a familiar tall figure entering the courtyard. 

Eric's cheeks were more hollow than the last time I had seen him, and I couldn't help the guilt that immediately seeped into my system. He seemed much darker than I remembered, the green in his eyes no longer having that playful shimmer I could spot from far away. However, when he spotted me on his way through the courtyard with a guard by his side, something changed in Eric. The flush in his cheeks returned, his eyes widened, and I could see the faint remnants of the smile that had etched itself into my mind for nights on end. But when he met my gaze, he looked away in a flash-- was he afraid we'd be caught staring at each other again?

I couldn't even control the way I immediately jumped into action as the guards left Eric's side, and I made my way to him with a confident stride. "Well, if it isn't Michelangelo?" I said, approaching with a smile. Seeing him in the flesh again made the tips of my fingers tingle, a certain excitement building in my system. "Where have you been? Did they put you in confinement too?"

But the smile I had seen in him earlier wasn't there anymore-- he turned to me, face blank. Eric blinked twice, watching me as though he didn't know why I was talking to him at all, his nose scrunching up. 

My pulse quickened as my anxiety rose; what was happening? 

"We shouldn't be talking," Eric eventually mumbled, looking away. His green eyes darted towards the guards on duty, wary of their movements. It didn't take long before he started walking away from me, which in turn left me stunned. 

I wondered whether I had said something wrong as I watched him join a few guys that were working out, and I had to take a deep breath to ground myself.  Everything about this made me feel like a complete and utter idiot-- I turned away from Eric, rubbing my temples as I made my way back inside. This was giving me a bigger headache than the ones I would get after coming down from a high.

This definitely felt similar to that; the crushing feeling. Having Eric dismiss me like that after what we had done felt more painful than usual, now that I couldn't dull down my feelings with anything. 

I walked back into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. Everything about this made my whole body ache, and I couldn't understand why I even cared to this degree. 

Had I been so delusional as to think Eric felt something for me too?

Later that night, I didn't care to come out for the last meal. Something told me I'd be staring at Eric again and that he'd dismiss me once more, and I didn't know if I could take it. I hadn't missed drugs as much as now-- everything about this situation reminded me of how I ended up here in the first place.

As I lay in my bed, hoping to fall asleep and wake up a new woman, I was dragged out of my sleepy state when I heard a light shuffling sound coming from my door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes before my gaze slowly darted towards the commotion. 

There it was. A note?

I went to pick it up, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest in anticipation. The paper was familiar, like rough velvet to my fingers, and the same size as a page from a notebook. The smile that crept up my lips was impossible to suppress-- I turned the paper to see a new drawing of me, made in the same scratchy style as the previous ones I had seen. 

It was an image of me laying in a bed, my eyes hidden in the crook of my arm, lips parted as though I was drawing in a big breath. The pink jumper I was pictured in was a lot bigger than mine; I suspected it was supposed to be Eric's. From the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a black pair of underwear, my legs dangling halfway off the bed. 

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my chest rise as my heart skipped a beat-- it was beautiful. Completely breathtaking. And in the corner to the upper right, there was a scribbled message with boyish writing that was hard to understand;

messy mornings. let's have those someday? xx

My smile only spread, and I let out a shaky breath of relief as I leaned my forehead against my door, pressing the drawing tightly against my chest. The joy that coursed through my veins reminded me of the same euphoric feeling I'd get from doing a certain type of drug-- I wasn't sure whether it was good for me or not to be feeling these things, but I knew I was addicted already. 

Was Eric maybe addicted to me as well? Was the incident in the courtyard just something he did in front of the guards, straying away from trouble?

I couldn't be sure. Nonetheless, I had gotten confirmation that he definitely thought about me too, and that was all I needed.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I could swear it was the same as getting high-- seeing Eric, I mean. It was especially exhilarating knowing he was right in front of me, but that I couldn't say a word to him. 

We were currently in a typical meeting, a group of people sitting in a circle trying to work through why they had started drinking or using. I hated these gatherings the most; I wasn't the biggest fan of airing out my life to strangers. 

But today was different. Eric had joined my group, even though his meeting usually took place later in the evening. I felt the air seep out of my lungs the second I spotted him in the door, watching him with eyes wider than expensive plates of china as he sat down on the chair opposite me in the circle, locking his gaze on me. 

And there he sat, in a casual manspread as he twiddled his thumbs, waiting his turn. His dark mullet had grown out a little, the hair on his forehead inching closer to his eyes with each week he was here. It was easy to get lost when I stared at him for too long, hypnotized by his tall build and his green, green eyes darting right back at me. The smirk playing across his lips mirrored mine, both of us feeling the tension thicken between us despite knowing our minds should be elsewhere at this moment.

I had gotten so swept up with Eric that I nearly jumped out of my chair when my name was called. My eyes frantically ripped themselves off of him, finding the guidance counselor with a confused look. What question was I supposed to answer? 

The counselor cleared her throat; "How are you planning to change your habits once you get out of rehabilitation?"

Oh. I had no idea. Flustered, I ended up shrugging, avoiding Eric's amused gaze. "I think... I might have to work on my impulses. So I guess I will try to make sure I don't give in to bad habits by..." I realized I was completely lost, and it made my cheeks flush. "By doing, uh... Doing breathing exercises?"

My eyes snapped toward the sound that came from the other end of the room-- I watched as Eric clasped a hand over his mouth, head hanging low to hide his blatant amusement. Was that a snort I heard? I had to actively bite back a smile from forming, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a force I had never used before.

The counselor cleared her throat, clearly unhappy with the direction this was heading. "Yes, Eric? Do you have anything to say?"

His green eyes darted up from his lap, and it was obvious that he was biting down on the inside of his cheek. Eric crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself as though he was thinking. "Well, if you're asking me the same question, I think I plan to surround myself with people I love. I think that's where it went wrong the last time," 

I held my breath-- I hadn't expected him to say that. And I had most certainly not expected Eric's eyes to find me immediately after, realizing his pupils had widened the second they landed on me. 

I didn't try to suppress my smile this time. I let it happen, watching as Eric smiled right back with a shimmer in his eyes. 

Something told me I was actually going to get something good out of group therapy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... It dawned on me a few days later that I didn't have much time left in rehab. It also happened to dawn on me at the exact moment another drawing slipped under my door, right around the time I was ready to go to bed. 

It was probably the fifth one this week, and I had laid them out neatly on my nightstand. Every image was as beautiful as the last one-- two of me in bed, one of me out in the courtyard again, and one of me during a group session falling asleep on Eric's shoulder. It warmed my heart to think that he had thought about that imagery when we had sat opposite each other a few days ago. Actually, everything about this warmed my heart.

However, today's drawing caught me off-guard. Today, it was a nude one-- deja vu. My eyes locked on the image of me in what looked like Eric's room, gripping his hair as his head was dipped between my legs. One hand was clasped over my chest, and the other one was digging its fingers into my thigh, holding me down. Everything about it made my heart stop, letting out a laboured breath at the sight. 

As always, there was a small message in the upper right corner;

in an alternative universe, there wouldn't be guards outside and there would be no stopping us.  can't wait to taste you xx

My hands gripped the paper, almost to the verge of curling it. It felt as though my body was actively on fire, a need ripping its way through my chest. And it was this exact feeling that had me rushing to put the drawing away before bolting out my door, knowing Eric couldn't have gone too far. 

Thankfully, I had been right. I spotted Eric further down the hall, towering over the people passing him. It was impossible not to notice the tattoos poking up from under his pink jumper, and something about it made my heart race even faster-- I so desperately wanted to see everything. Feel him beneath the pads of my fingertips. 

And I burned. Burned, burned, burned up. And I kept on burning as I sped down the hallway, hearing the loud clacking of my shoes echo through the space along with the thumping of my heart. "Eric!"

Hearing his name, Eric turned around, eyes wide in surprise. "Hey, you," he murmured, brows knitting together as though he was about to scold me. "Thought you were sleeping?"

I finally caught up to him, quickly scanning our surroundings, realizing we were alone. 

"... Are you here to return the drawing?" Eric asked, tilting his head to the side as he scanned the look on my face. A nervous smile spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes flickered around the hallway. "Might've been a little much, sure, but you didn't seem to mind it the last time?--"

His words trailed off as the small hand tugging at his jumper caught his attention. Eric's eyes rounded out, immediately understanding what I was getting at. When he leaned down, I let out a shaky breath before I flung my arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

I had hoped it would satiate the burn ravaging my body, but it didn't. As Eric's big arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him, the fire only spread. My hands barely had time to go up into his hair, tugging softly at his dark locks, before he pulled away with an airy chuckle. "You'll get us in trouble again,"

That's true-- "Fuck," was the only thing I managed to say. 

Humming, Eric glanced down the hall before pulling my hand into his, intertwining our fingers as he led me away. I was glad it was almost time for bed, seeing as there were barely any people out in the hallway and the guards were relaxing outside on their cigarette break. A familiar dulling of my brain seeped into my system as I remembered the smell of their cigarettes gliding into my room from outside-- I missed nicotine. But Eric was better than any cigarettes. Better than anything I had ever taken before. No high could match the one I would get from locking eyes with him, getting a drawing under my door, or the feeling currently coursing through my veins as he led me into a desolate stairwell. "This will do for now," he muttered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I'll make sure to bring you somewhere nice when we're both out of here."

As my back hit the wall, I couldn't suppress my growing smirk as Eric neared me. The last time we had stood like this, had been right before he left my room after we made out. Seeing how tall he was, casting a shadow as he towered over me, I let out a sigh of joy; I had missed this. I had missed him. There was nothing that could make me happier than being alone with him. "I'm getting out of here soon, actually,"

Eric hummed as he placed his hand against the wall next to my head, his green eyes locking with mine. I wasn't too afraid to show my burning state-- he watched my lips part as I stared up at him, and I watched his jaw clench as he tried to digest the look in my eyes.

Sex. I was giving him those bedroom eyes that always worked on every guy I had ever been with. My eyes got all glassy, my thick lashes hanging low. I was quite sure I would let him fuck me right here if he wanted to-- I was past the point of caring who caught us. 

"Soon, you say? How soon?" Eric asked, leaning down to press two separate kisses against the corners of my mouth. 

I had to control the way my breath hitched before I answered; "A week and a half,"

Nodding, Eric's fingers brushed against my lips, pressing into the skin as he watched my expression with a heated one of his own. His thumb dipped past my lips, brushing against the tip of my tongue. "I'm out in three," 

I smiled before wrapping my mouth softly around his thumb, watching a breath escape him as his green eyes locked on the sight. Eric leaned down to kiss my cheek, watching as they flushed when he pulled his finger out of my mouth. "Where can I find you when we're out?"

"You seriously think I would leave this place without giving you my address?"

"Okay, good," Eric chuckled, his eyes rounding out with a newfound softness. "Because I think I'll need you out there more than I need you now."

What? I swallowed, biting down on my lower lip. Did he reciprocate the way I was feeling these things? I wondered whether he also felt the pit of fire in his stomach, whether he couldn't breathe whenever I wasn't around, and whether thoughts of me also wreaked havoc through his mind in every waking moment. 

Eric's eyes lowered, taking in my stunned silence. "Honestly, I thought this was purely a lust thing, but... I've come to realize it's not just that. The one thing rehab has taught me, is that I need to break my habits, so here I am. Not running,"

I hadn't smiled this brightly in years. "Eric?"

A hum.

"I feel the same way," I reached out for his face, glad he had bent down a little to make it possible. "I'm quite sure I've gone mad, but standing with you here feels better than any drugs I've ever taken. And quite frankly, that drawing... Fuck, that was quite something." A breathy giggle escaped me, watching as Eric met my gaze with a smirk playing across his plush, pink lips. "That shit was hot. You're so fucking talented, do you know that?"

Eric freed his lower lip from his teeth, inching closer to gently nudge his nose against me. "Nope, I definitely don't know that. Completely oblivious. Which is why I need you around to tell me that, once in a while,"

"I'll tell you every day, if you want," I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of our closeness. 

"Good," Eric whispered against my lips, his hands now grabbing at my waist, pressing himself closer to me. "And I'll eat you out every day. Deal?"

I was quite sure I was going to faint. Remember the drawing, I couldn't wait for our time to come. "Sounds like better therapy than anything they've done for me here,"

"Definitely," 

I smiled, giving his dark hair a tug, pulling Eric against me to connect our lips in a passionate kiss. 

How we had gone from staring at each other to this, I had no idea. How it became this enormous feeling burning through my body, I couldn't guess the answer. But the one thing I knew, was that it felt right-- being with Eric like this felt right. Correct. Perfect. 

As our kisses grew with hunger, resembling that one evening on Eric's bed, my body began to grow flushed as his hands dipped beneath my pink jumper, traveling up my torso with a fiery need to be close. "Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling away, panting just slightly.

I nodded, unable to wipe the grin off my face as my sweater got discarded somewhere on the floor, licking my lips out of pure habit. Eric was quick to dip his head forward, swiping his own tongue along mine. My back arched off the wall in surprise, the movement against his body earning me a small groan. This was how I realized he was hard-- I had to suppress another hitch of my breath.

"Shit, I want to take it all off," Eric whispered against my lips. "Everything. Feel all of you." He pressed his lips against my chin, moving his way down my throat and to my neck. I could feel the cool air hitting my back as he lifted my shirt off as well-- my nipples hardened at his attention, his hands gripping my breasts through my bra, squeezing them. 

I whimpered against his touch, writhing in anticipation. I had no idea what he had planned for me, if we were going to go all the way or not; I could already feel my excitement pool between my legs, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The arousal had been in my system since the second I saw today's drawing, and I let it out by tugging at his dark hair once more, hoping for him to come back up. "Eric, kiss me-- Wanna feel you too," 

I watched Eric's eyes light up as he pulled away and met mine. And he complied, capturing my lips in a needy kiss, his big hands gripping at my hips and digging into my skin through my trousers. Realizing I was the only one with my shirt off, my hands dipped under his, hoping he'd get the memo as I tugged at the hem of his pink sweater. 

Eric's lips barely left mine as he discarded his sweater elsewhere, satisfaction coursing through my veins as our chests pressed up against each other, our hearts beating at the other through our skin. I had desperately wanted to see his tattoos, drink in the sight of the art scattered across his body, but it hit me that we didn't have time-- we didn't know when we'd be caught. I figured I'd leave it to the time we'd be out of rehab, when we'd have time for messy mornings every day, and when we had time to be buried in each other completely. 

"I don't know if I can wait three weeks," I breathed in between hungry kisses, my hands running up and down his toned torso. 

Eric hummed against my lips; "Me neither," 

And with that, it didn't take long before his slender fingers dipped down into my underwear, making my breath hitch at the realization of what was happening. "Been dreaming about this for weeks," Eric whispered, one of his hands disappearing in my hair to hold me in place, making sure my eyes met his as he rubbed tight circles around my clit. "You're all I ever think about."

My mouth was open against his, small gasps escaping past my lips, bucking into his hand as he sped up his movements around my clit. "I'm so crazy about you," I whimpered, watching the green of his eyes swallow me whole with adoration and lust. My mind still hadn't completely registered that this was happening, especially not under the blue lights of the stairwell. "You're better than drugs, I swear."

Eric chuckled against my lips, watching me moan against him as he patted the pad of his finger against the slick of my core. "Better than drugs, you say?"

"Much better," My words were barely coming out properly, and any continuation of that sentence was stopped the second Eric pressed a finger into me. My breath hitched-- fuck. 

He hummed, a sweet smile splayed across his lips; "You're my drug," 

It was almost too much-- I bucked against his hand once more, squirming in his grip as the flame spread through my body. I really couldn't remember the last time I had been this happy or aroused. I let out a breathy moan as he pumped his finger into me, the squelching sound of my wetness drawing forth a blush in my cheeks.

"I'd take my time with you," Eric whispered, capturing my lips in a short kiss before continuing; "But we don't have a lot of time. Forgive me if we make this quick."

I could barely nod, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt his thumb back against my clit, his middle finger curling inside of me. It was obvious that he had done this before. 

My mind was already mush by the time Eric slid his finger out of me, turning me around and peppering my shoulder with wet kisses. It didn't take long before he leaned down to tug my pants down to my knees, fingers eager. I wasn't sure how to explain the burning need that was currently clawing at me, but I knew it was all-consuming. Eric had consumed me-- I knew I was his and only his.

So when I felt his big, strong hands grip my hips, pushing me towards him to allow for an easier entrance, I could only moan out in complete and utter satisfaction as I felt his cock sink into me. Eric let out a breathy grunt, now snaking both hands around my body, burying himself to the hilt with the slowest stroke known to man. "Fuck," was all he managed to say, hissing slightly against my shoulder before sucking down on a spot, wanting to leave behind a mark.

I couldn't believe the strange places my mind went to-- why was I contemplating getting that hickey tattooed? I wouldn't need it anyway, if Eric kept his promise and stayed with me after we both got out. There was nothing I wanted more in the whole wide world.

All my concerns flew out the window as Eric gripped my waist for leverage as he continued to thrust into me, leaving me with my mouth open against the wall. My body was aching with pleasure unmatched anything I had ever felt before, and I knew that the difference between this time and all my other escapades was how much I had craved Eric-- and how much I knew he craved me.

My breath hitched as he nipped at my jaw, whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Wanted this... so, so long..." Eric let out a grunt as his hands went down to my hips again, pulling away from my neck to watch his cock pump into my dripping core. I was quite sure it was glistening with my slick by the sounds of it. "Wanted this-- Wanted you."

"Me too," I cried, resting my hands against the wall, meeting his thrusts. "Every night, all the time..."

"All the time," he echoed. "Forever."

My breath hitched at both his words and the way one of his hands left my hip, ghosting over my stomach. I knew exactly where it was heading, and I had to bite back a rather loud moan as Eric dipped his hand down between my legs. Eric spread his fingers, covering my whole cunt, feeling the sides of his own cock rut into me. It didn't take long before his whole hand was practically covered in my slick, and I was quite sure I heard a drop hit the floor. Everything about it made me shiver.

Like this, I was practically pushed to rut against the palm of his hand, the pressure against my clit making me gasp-- I knew I wouldn't last long like this. Perfect.

By the sounds of it, Eric wouldn't either. He let a breathy moan escape his lips before he let go of my hips, reaching up to grab my chin, tilting it to the side so that he could kiss me. I let out a soft cry against his lips, feeling my walls clamp down around his thick cock. Feeling beyond full, I reached around to grab his dark hair, feeling his locks between my fingers as a familiar tightening in my stomach appeared. 

"You're the only one I've ever wanted this badly," Eric murmured against my lips, his thrusts becoming rushed and erratic, clearly holding back his high. "Be mine-- Fuck, be mine?"

If I hadn't been this close to my high, I would've cried. "All yours, Eric, all yours... A-Aah!--" My walls clamped around him as I was driven against the palm of his hand once more, driving me over the edge, coming harder than I probably ever had before.

Eric took this as a green light-- It didn't take long before he let out a grunt against my shoulder, gently biting down as ropes of cum decorated my walls, his thick cock twitching with its release inside of me. 

Our pants filled the stairway, and I was quite sure my legs would give out as he pulled out of me with a wet pop, tucking himself back into his trousers. I could only smile, leaning against the wall as I let out a sigh of relief. I was so incredibly glad we managed to do all of this before getting caught-- I was sure I wouldn't have been able to wait until we were both out. The burning in my body subsided, the ache turning into an all-consuming feeling of joy. 

I turned to Eric with a soft smile spread across my lips, trying to steady my breathing. He was especially beautiful now-- kiss-swollen lips really suited him. 

He returned my smile, leaning forward to capture my lips in a soft, gentle kiss. My hands reached out for him, cupping his face as my thumbs caressed his cheeks. It was such an exhilarating feeling to be adored like this, and I wasn't sure I would ever experience it until now. Meeting Eric felt like seeing a lunar rainbow-- exceptionally rare.

However, Eric's sweet smile suddenly turned back into his usual mischievous smirk. Before I could even say a word, he had dropped down to his knees, leaning forward to wrap his lips around my aching sex, covering my whole mound as he sucked at me.

I could barely breathe as I realized what he was doing-- was he sucking his own cum out of me? This was new. And weirdly pleasurable. I let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair in the exact same way I did in Eric's drawing. I could only whimper as his tongue darted out, drawing a circle around my overstimulated clit-- instinctively, my hips bucked against his mouth. Something about this felt weirdly full-circle. "Eric, wait!-- Shit,"

He hummed, looking up at me with those green eyes I loved so much. "Will you kill me if I draw this?"

I could only sigh-- bliss. 

(a/n: PART 1, PART 3 linked here!! enjoy<33)

[davelizewskiwife]

The Ghost of Harding Manor

Friedrich Harding x Reader

Summary: Your marriage is haunted by the ghost of the wife who came before you, and the walls of Harding Manor bear witness to your husband's descent into madness.

warnings: Dub-Con, loss of virginity, obsession, unsure if stalking counts if it takes place in your own home, implied chronically ill!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

♱

You were not Anna.

You were reminded every day from the moment you wed Friedrich Harding and became his missus that you were not Anna. Anna who was perfect and said the right things and walked the right way and was a walking temptation to the man she called her husband. Anna who—even in death—called to Friedrich from beyond and was nearly successful if it were not for strong hands and strong voices keeping the dark-haired man from throwing himself into her coffin with her. Anna who was well on her way to giving your husband a third child.

Anna whose touch still lingered in this home and along these walls and in the long dead flowers that Friedrich refused to throw out.

Anna who haunted you much more than she haunted your new husband.

Illness had not just taken the angelic beauty, but her three children with her, one never even getting the chance to take his first breath. In your solitude, you sometimes thought that you did not know what was worse—their two daughters remaining and forcing you to fill the void the other woman left in multiple lives…or your life as it were as you were forced to give Friedrich a whole new family and reason for existing.

You knew from the moment you became betrothed that you had a heavy vacancy to fill…but it seemed that Friedrich had no intention of you filling it.

“He does not touch me, mother.”

The words were whispered in the quiet home one day, and you looked around, ignoring the feel of the older woman’s gaze in favor of imagining what this house must have been like before the tragedy. You imagined how loud it must have been with two animated little girls running around. You imagined how good Friedrich must have been with them, and thoughts of Anna welcoming him home with a kiss and her arms full made your heart sink.

You were not her.

The advice of your mother went into one ear and out the other. You had long accepted that you were a poor replacement that Friedrich could hardly stand to look at. You were alone on your wedding night and again the night after that and the night after that. You were always alone, and the few glimpses that you got of your husband since the wedding day only proved fruitful in your gazes meeting for a stolen moment…and then he was gone again.

You were always alone, and he was always gone…

Until the morning you would not rise from your bed.

The fever struck you in the night, and by the time morning came you felt weighed down by sand. Any strength you had was used to keep your breathing as even as possible, unable to even muster an attempt to open your eyes and tell your cold husband that you were well. Conversations swirled around your head for what felt like days, and in between the feverish dreams, you caught diagnoses and assurances here and there.

“It is merely a cold,” the doctor told Friedrich. “Her body is fighting it quite well, and she will be like new in a matter of days.”

You recalled agreeing with the assessment, feeling more fatigued than anything else—you’d always been rather sickly—but your peace had been broken for the first time in months. The voice of your husband had reached your ears—so broken and angry and unlike anything you had experienced with him.

“...and how exactly did this come about? She never even leaves the house, for God’s sake.”

You heard the rustle of fabric and heavy steps and an even heavier sigh.

“In a matter of a night, my wife has taken ill, and I am assured that she will recover in no time, but I have heard that before…” his voice shook. “I will not bury another wife—I cannot!”

It all seemed so unlike him, and so you convinced yourself that you merely dreamt it up. The fever was clouding your mind and making you conjure up your innermost desires, namely Friedrich caring for you for more than just a societal duty to bear sons that would carry on his name. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness and dream some more.

A masculine hand in yours, a finger tracing patterns into your stomach through the fabric of the bedding, soft lips brushing along your fingers and facial hair tickling your flesh. Your mind conjured up all sorts of things that simply could not be true, and yet when you fully opened your eyes for the first time in days, you were not alone.

It was not easy to place the look upon Friedrich’s face as he stared down at you, towering over your bed with a smoke in hand and dark circles beneath his eyes. He did not look well himself, and you could not help running your eyes over him, wondering just how much sleep he had gotten this past week. The room was quiet as you two just stared at each other, and just as you parted your lips to inquire about his own health, he was abruptly turning away from you. His voice rang throughout the house as he demanded someone send for the doctor.

It was only hours later that it was professionally confirmed that you were almost as good as new and would probably only have to put up with a light cough for the next day or two. Hearing those words relieved you, and when you looked up at your husband, you could not tell if he shared your relief. You frowned up at him as the doctor poked and prodded at you, wondering, for the first time, just what the dark-haired young man was thinking.

He only stared back.

In fact, he only ever stared these days.

When you were walking through the silent house much like the ghost that haunted your marriage, you could feel the heavy weight of his stare pressing down on you. It was not easy to ignore—nor did you want to—but whenever you turned, no husband was there to meet your gaze. The only sign of his presence was the flutter of a broad shadow passing along the walls. He was much bolder when you found your nose buried in a book, and oftentimes when you lifted your gaze to catch him, he did not shy away.

“Yes?” you would wonder, voice quiet as both uncertainty and unease filled you.

Sometimes he did not answer, merely content to gaze at you, and other times he took his time in responding. He would exhale smoke and it would billow between you, briefly obscuring his features before he swiped his tongue between his lips.

“Supper will be ready within the hour.”

You would nod, and he would make no move to leave, and you would be forced to turn your eyes back to the pages before you…resolving to ignore the silent presence in the doorway that was your husband. You found yourself doing that a lot—resolving to ignore his presence. Otherwise, you would never get anything done.

His gaze clung to you when you ate, the dinner table silent outside of the sound of food and utensils hitting dishes. When your eyes would meet, you would send him a small smile, thinking to yourself that your marriage was just progressing slower than most, but he never returned it. He never smiled at you, only preferring to stare. When you ate, when you read, when you found yourself outside amongst the flowers…even when you slept.

You had never once shared a bed, so it was startling to answer a knock on your door one night, coming face to face with your other half. Your nightdress kissed your feet, and the sleeves tickled your hand, and despite that, Friedrich gazed at you as if you were standing naked before him.

“I only wish to make sure you are well throughout the night.”

You did not know how you felt both relief and disappointment, but you managed.

It took you some time to respond, nodding with a small ‘of course’. You still let out a cough here and there, and you did not miss the way Friedrich’s head would abruptly turn with every heave of your chest. Your marriage may have been cold and strange, but it was obvious that your husband had grown paranoid with the fear of burying a wife for a second time. You imagined that it would not reflect well on him.

…and so you laid beside him and closed your eyes and even in the cover of darkness…

You could feel his gaze.

It unsettled you, and you had half a mind to seek the advice of your mother the next time your parents came for a visit, but she—ever zestful and bold—completely took hold of your train of thought.

“...and when might I expect a grandchild?”

There was a teasing smile on her lips as she regarded you, and you merely sighed before taking a sip of your tea.

“You know my situation, mother,” you murmured, setting your cup aside.

Father was with Friedrich, and you hoped that he was enjoying his company much more than he seemed to his daughter.

“Yes, but that was months ago, and I can tell that things have shifted.”

At that, you frowned, turning to face her.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your marriage was just as cold as it was in the beginning, only now a strange voyeuristic atmosphere had descended over it. Your husband had gone from ignoring your very presence to shadowing your every footstep in the house. Her light chuckle made you flinch, and she gazed at you as if you were playing some joke on her.

“Darling,” she took a sip of the warm drink. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you welcomed us through those doors.”

Your frown deepened.

“That is the gaze of a man fighting with all of his might to resist his beloved wife.”

Now it was your turn to think she was playing a jest with you, but you had no more time to linger on that for the voices of your father and husband soon filled the house as they made their way inside. You could only swallow as mother stood to welcome father back, slowly rising as your own husband neared you. When you traced his face with your eyes, you noticed the ease upon it, and you felt relieved to see that he and your father got on well. He looked like any normal man alight with the mirth that came from being in the company of other like minded men, and so you disregarded your mother’s words.

As you stepped past him to approach your father, your back felt aflame with the heat of a familiar gaze.

You saw them out and wished them safe travels and your father placed his hand on your cheek before he went, speaking good health over you. While he may have been used to your sickly nature, any instance that required bed confinement for his daughter always worried him. He wanted to leave with the trust that you would be well looked after…and well looked after you were.

“Your father was very transparent with me about your health.”

Friedrich towered over you as you sat at the table, having been unsure where this conversation was heading when he interrupted supper. A small container was in his large hand, and when your gaze lifted from the bottle to his eyes, you swore that you saw him falter, his words momentarily stuck in his throat.

He placed the bottle down before you, his hand remaining on the table, and the scent of him filled your nose.

“I have gotten the doctor to make a tonic for you. You are to take a few drops with your meal once a week… It will keep your strength and health up.”

He only moved again to open it, and despite the fact that you felt it was hardly necessary—having survived so long without it—one look into the eyes of your husband told you that not only could it not hurt, but for his peace of mind, you needed to do this. You two gazed at one another as he held it in his hand, and after some time, you realized what he wanted. Parting your lips for him, you swallowed down the few drops he administered to you, but even after you swallowed the herbal mixture down…Friedrich continued to stand over you.

It was in this moment that you finally started to voice your thoughts, asking him why he stared at you so when his movements completely stumped you.

His thumb found the corner of your mouth, startling you, and it remained there for some time before he brought it to his lips, tasting whatever had been lingering there. His blue eyes—normally so cold and unreadable in your presence—suddenly glinted with a look you could not place. It happened so fast that you would have missed it, but you did not, and the intensity there was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Friedrich parted from you as if nothing had happened, and you watched him round the table to take his place across from you once again. It took you some time to pick up your utensils again, rejoining him in eating your supper, and now it was your turn to stare at him…unable to forget that shadowy something that passed through those blue eyes.

He was staring again.

The wind howled outside of the window with the storm and flashes of lightning lit up the otherwise dark room from time to time and your chest and shoulders moved evenly as you feigned sleep. You stared at the wall before you, and Friedrich stared at you. If at all possible, he grew more shameless with it, and if you were a normal loving couple just so wrapped up in each other—as you were sure he was with Anna—then some part of you might have found it romantic.

Tantalizing even.

As it were, you were not, and as silly as it seemed…you felt hunted in your own house.

You constantly felt like prey under his ever watchful eye no matter how justified he made it seem. Concern for your health, making sure no food disagreed with you, seeing how fair you slept. The paranoia of losing another wife suffocated you both for different reasons and in different ways, and you felt as if you were moments away from choking. Your mother’s voice crawled through your mind, and words that you had once dismissed now rang through your thoughts like a melody.

The room glowed with another flash of lightning…and you felt the gentle feel of fingers on the side of your face. You sharply inhaled, startled from both the sudden touch and the foreignness of it. His hand rested on your hair, ensuring that he could gaze upon your face no doubt, and when you felt the bed jostle, you closed your eyes. His lips found your tresses, and his hand found your shoulder, and you both heard and felt him breathe you in.

Friedrich’s nose traced the curve of your ear and he descended until his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Despite all of this, your heart remained steady, and you remained still as he gently pressed his lips to your skin and traced patterns through your sleeve. You felt his larger frame shifting closer, and at that—at the feel of him pressed so closely to you to where you could feel every curve and ridge of him—you shuddered.

Yet you still feigned sleep.

“You will never be her,” the words he murmured into your skin had your brows furrowing. “...and I will never let you.”

Contradictory to the words that left his lips, the hand on your arm found its way to your waist, his arm completely circling you and holding you to him. That was how he remained throughout the night, and only when you accepted the permanence of his position, did you finally allow yourself to find sleep.

It was dreamless, and when you woke up, you woke up alone.

You chose to ignore the relief that filled you at that discovery, telling yourself that Friedrich was still grieving. It was an easy answer to his behavior and treatment of you, and yet, you wondered how much longer you had to endure it. You wondered how much longer you would feel watched and shadowed in your own house.

At breakfast, you parted your lips for Friedrich as he gave you a few drops of the tonic, and he watched you eat, and you pretended not to notice. For some time that is. Finally, after a while, you placed your utensils down, and you lifted your gaze to meet his head on. Ever bold, he did not look away, those blue eyes momentarily making you lose your train of thought.

“Why do you stare at me so?”

You finally voiced your concerns with him, and you watched the mustache twitch from the movements of his mouth at your sudden and brazen question. Friedrich looked as if he had never anticipated you asking that of him, but eventually he straightened, pushing his shoulders back as he studied your face.

“I am afraid you will slip away.”

His answer made you blink, eyes widening slightly.

“I fear…” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “...like my Anna, you will slip from my grasp.”

Your lips parted at the unexpected answer, and you were unsure of how to respond. Friedrich took a deep breath before digging into his own breakfast, those blue eyes finally refusing to meet yours.

“I will not allow you to become her…lost to me too.”

It was in that moment that you realized you completely misconstrued his words from the previous night, and you stared at the man before you who was so desperate and driven to uncomfortable lengths to ensure he did not bury another wife. Some part of you felt awful for feeling so put off by his uncanny behavior…but some other part of you recognized that your husband was slowly being pushed to madness.

If he were not so already.

“She vexes me so…”

Those were the words you overheard a week later, your house hosting a small handful of people that Friedrich knew. The wives took to you well despite your quiet disposition, and when they proposed an evening walk along the beach, you went in search of your husband to inform him. When you found him, he was in the company of three other men, the smell of tobacco reached you first and then his words followed.

You froze the moment you realized it was you he was referring to.

“She is so quiet and frail…like a mouse” there were a few chuckles. “...and I so desire to hear her squeak.”

You felt yourself take a step back.

“...but it is because she is so fragile that I cannot bring myself to touch her…” you heard Friedrich inhale. “I fear I would ravage her.”

How was it possible for his words to both terrify and entice you? It was a relief to know that your husband did not balk at the sight of you as you once thought, but you did not hold the same sentiment in confirming you were indeed being hunted in your own house. Friedrich had made no moves to warm you to him and progress this marriage in a way that a normal man would. After all these months, he was still little more than a stranger to you.

A stranger that was increasingly losing himself more and more at the thought of ever losing you.

“...but Friedrich we only just got here.”

You looked to him with a slight frown, the ocean breeze a soothing feeling against your skin. So turned around by his words from the other night, you had completely forgotten all about the beach, returning to the other wives in a bit of a daze, something they happily sat you down and fetched some water for.

With one look at you surrounded and feverish with some water in your hand, Friedrich had cleared the house out immediately, saddening you. You were at the beach, now to make up for it, but you were sure that you had only been here all of ten minutes.

“It is a bit airish out,” he said to you, keeping your hand in place on his arm. “I do not wish to see you fall ill again.”

You struggled to argue with him about your health, understanding both the sensitive nature of the topic and the determination in his eyes to see you back inside the house. Despite what you wanted, you allowed him to guide you away from the water and sand. His hand remained on yours the whole way, and the closer you got to your home, the more your unease grew.

“Perhaps we can try again if the weather is better tomorrow,” you proposed the moment you were inside the warm walls of the house.

Your husband did not answer right away as he removed his coat, and for a moment you feared he never would, but his eyes met yours as he turned to you. He was gentle and meticulous in unbuttoning your own coat, his chest so close to yours as he slowly peeled it off of you. The words that he did not know you heard were on your mind as he looked down his nose at you, and he only answered when your arms were finally free.

“We shall see.”

His tone and his words did not seem to be in agreement, and you were unsurprised when tomorrow came and went and you did not leave the walls of your home. You found enjoyment in your books instead, and like always, you eventually felt goosebumps crawl over your arms as you became the subject of his scrutiny yet again.

Only this time, you were surprised to hear him approach.

“Read to me,” he quietly asked—demanded—of you, and you felt his hand in your hair as he sat down on the couch behind you.

It was an unexpected request, and you were silent for a few moments more as he made himself comfortable behind you. His legs were on either side of you as you relaxed on the floor, the fabric of your dresses and undergarments cushioning your bottom. It took you some time to do as he asked, but once you did, you started to forget that he was even there.

Until his fingers started to move over your scalp and he drew himself closer, his knees in your line of vision now, and his gentle breathing started to accompany the sound of your own voice. You read to him for what felt like hours, both of you only pulled from the moment when the cook informed you that dinner would be ready soon.

Much of your time was spent reading to Friedrich these days, and you wondered if he thought it a sufficient enough distraction to ensure you hardly noticed he never let you out of the house anymore. Your requests to go to the beach grew less and less with every denial and every ‘maybe’ that would just turn into a denial. The day you asked to accompany one of the staff to the market, he visibly blanched, his head shaking as he snarked at you how completely out of the question that was.

You finally spoke up when the monthly visit from your parents did not come to pass.

“I did not think it wise for them to be here,” was his only defense, and you gaped at him.

“...and why not? Why am I the last to know this?”

His hand wrapped around your arm as he pulled you away from the curious eyes and ears of the kitchen staff, guiding you through the house with that long stride of his that almost made it hard to keep up. When he noticed, he slowed down, eventually halting his movements just outside of his study, and when you hesitantly reached for your arm, Friedrich loosened his hold.

You watched him use his free hand to gently brush his fingers over the appendage, looking down at it with a frown before meeting your gaze with a more even stare. 

“...because they are always trotting off to God knows where around God knows who, and I will not allow them to bring even so much as a shallow cough into this household.”

You blinked at your husband, understanding dawning on you, and you struggled with a response. You realized now that appeasing his paranoia—not fighting it and letting him have his way—was doing more harm than good. Friedrich was so good at hiding his emotions from you—even the ones you wanted to know about—but in the dimly lit hallway, you could see it clear as day in his eyes.

He was consumed with the fear that you would wind up just like Anna and his children.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly reached for his hand, removing it from your arm. You did not break your gaze, wanting him to listen to you loud and clear, and you swallowed down the unease that filled you as you stood under his unwavering gaze.

“Friedrich…” you whispered to him, so unused to the feel of his name on your tongue. “That is no way for me to live a life.”

He pushed his shoulders back at that, and you knew that he was going to argue with you, so you continued.

“You have gotten me a tonic from the doctor…I am the healthiest I have ever been…and I would very much like to see my mother and father.”

His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth curved upwards at your attempt to put your foot down. The both of you stood there for a lengthy amount of time, just staring at one another, and for the briefest of moments, you thought that Friedrich would see reason. Your hand was still on his, and your husband maneuvered them so that your hand was now in his, and when he stopped closer, you knew then that you were not getting your way.

“Perhaps some other time.”

You knew what that meant as you watched him walk away, and dread began to fill you as the reality of your predicament was truly setting in. Your eyes roamed along the walls, no longer feeling haunted by Anna, but her husband instead. He was haunting you, and she was haunting him, and in his desperation to keep you from suffering the same fate as his previous wife, Friedrich seemed content to keep you behind a gilded cage, a manicured box.

Like a porcelain doll.

Your days were consumed with only him and the house—reading to him, tending to the flowers, picking out patterns for some new drapes or a new rug to be made. It was enough to ignore the obvious for a while, enough to keep your mind off of the prolonged absence of your parents and the unmet desires to see the water and the way Friedrich stared at you like he expected you to crumble at the drop of a hat.

He was driving you nearly mad as he, and perhaps that was why you did it.

The caretaker was new and had not yet learned that Friedrich Harding preferred to keep his new wife locked up like some sickly child. Why would she? You were sure that you would be back home before he returned, but when you entered your home—the sun still at its peak outside—you did not miss the way some of the servants avoided your gaze. Only one approached you, quietly taking your coat as her gaze found the floor.

“Mr. Harding is waiting for you both…”

Your heart sank at her words, and you looked to the caretaker, knowing that you just cost her employment. That had never been your intention, and you walked ahead of her, prepared to plead her case to your husband, but he let her go on the spot before you could get a word in. Everything you said went ignored, every plea and every excuse, and it was only when the staff made themselves conveniently scarce did your proper and mighty well-to-do husband finally…

Break.

“Do you wish to ruin me? Is that it?”

His voice bounced off of the walls, and your lips parted as he stared you down. His eyes were alight with every emotion known to man, and his shoulders heaved with every breath he took. You only just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“For surely it will be the end of me if I have to say goodbye to another wife,” he angrily whispered, and you took a step back. “I do not ask much of you.”

“I know-.”

“I have not forced you to my bed, I have not demanded any sons or daughters,” he let out a tearful chuckle. “I do not even demand you greet your husband with a kiss when he returns home.”

All of this was true, and yet…

“All I ask is that you remain here.”

He said it so casually, as if he were not asking the world of you to remain prettily seated in a cage. You had never known how to gently broach this subject, understanding the sensitive nature of it, but as you stared into the face of your husband—driven mad with trauma and paranoia—you accepted that there would be no gentle way to do it.

“I am not Anna,” you breathed.

The man before you froze in place as you said her name, and you swallowed. 

“I am in good health now,” you licked your lips. “You saw to that…”

You slowly reached for him, and you did not miss the sharp look in his gaze as he followed the movement with his eyes.

“I am not going anywhere, and I implore you to have faith…”

Your words trailed off as the sound of his bitter chuckle reached your ears. Friedrich moved closer to you with no intention of stopping it seemed, and your back hit the wall. 

“Faith,” the dark-haired man sneered. “Why would I trust faith to keep you with me when that very same faith failed me before?”

You had no answer for him.

His fingers touched your face, and you looked between his eyes. His chest heaved, and his heavy breathing was the loudest sound in the room. His fingers trailed down the expanse of your neck before his hand moved to rest on the back of it, moving closer.

“You are so frail,” he murmured. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He forced your face closer, and you pressed your hands to his chest. The conflict was evident on his features, a furrow between his brows as he drank you in with those sad blue eyes of his.

“I fear that a change in the wind would rip you from my very arms.”

“Friedrich…” he gave no indication that he was listening to you. “I have not seen my mother and father in months. I know they must worry and… All I ever see are these walls and the staff and my books and you. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?”

He tilted his head.

“Do you wish for me to be alone again?”

“Friedrich, please,” you begged, and he was shaking his head as soon as you said his name.

“I cannot do what you ask of me,” he forced out, eyes becoming glassy.

You pulled at his arm and pushed at his chest, but your husband was a mountain of a man, and it did you no good. The room was filled with both of your voices at once, both of you pleading with the other—you for freedom and he for understanding.

“You do not understand the lengths I go to…”

“I will be driven to madness!”

“...the nights I refuse my own desires,” he tearfully spat.

“So you would have me be your doll then? Placed on a shelf where only you and the staff can see me? To only be looked at like a trinket until the end of my days?”

Your poor choice of words had him freezing, his voice dying in the air as he gazed at you with a stricken look in his eyes. He did not move for a concerning amount of time, and as he stared into your eyes, tears kissing his own, you wondered who he saw, right now.

You or Anna?

The wife he had lost or the one he was scared of losing?

“I cannot bear it,” he choked out, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. “It is an impossible thing to ask of me.”

You said his name, but he felt lost to you, mumbling to himself and kneading at you through the fabric of your dress. When his soft lips pressed against the skin just above your bosom, you tensed. You could feel the wetness from his tears on your flesh, and you said his name again.

In this moment, you were wholly aware of your disadvantage.

“All I do is try to protect you, and all I ask is that you help me…”

“Friedrich.”

He was on his knees, now, burly arms circled around your waist, and blue eyes wide and bright and tearful as he looked up at you.

“Yet you fight me every step of the way.”

“I am not Anna,” you said to him, trying to get him to see reason.

…but he knew exactly who he was talking to.

“...and you will never become her if I can help it.”

You felt his hand slide to your backside, pulling you closer as he buried his face into the fabric of your skirts.

“Night after night…day after day…I fight with myself for fear of hurting you, of doing irreparable damage.”

His arm tightened painfully around you, and you gasped, reaching down to pull at his sleeve.

“...and for what? For a wife who still leaves these walls and puts herself in harm’s way even after her husband begs her not to.”

“I cannot…”

You struggled to breathe, and you no longer just wanted him to let you go…you wished to get away. You both heard and felt him press a lingering kiss to your stomach, his tears wetting the fabric of your dress.

“If I am to risk you in any capacity…then surely it should be for the betterment of us both.”

So focused on trying to take in air, you did not fully register his words and the implication behind them. Your chest was tightening and your stomach was hurting, and your husband was losing his mind, and you did not know how to convince him that he would not lose you too. You pushed further back against the wall in an effort to relieve some of the painful pressure when you could suddenly breathe again.

You sharply inhaled…and the sound of tearing fabric reached your ears.

The pressure around your abdomen was loosening in more ways than one, and when you looked down, Friedrich had his hands quite literally inside of your dress. It was one that your mother had commissioned for you, but you could not find it in yourself to mourn the loss of the beautiful gown. You were more focused on your husband’s sudden animalistic nature.

You said his name, pushing at his hands, but you were no match for his strength.

“I cannot stop,” you heard him murmur, making your blood run cold. “Do not dare ask me to stop.”

With his hand at your back under the fabric, it was not long before you quite literally felt the fabric and strings of your corset being pulled taut against your flesh before ripping and popping completely. A panic seized you as you fought to get away from Friedrich, and he fought to rid you of the mountain of layers that covered you.

“Friedrich,” you gasped, pushing at his face and head, but with his arms around you in a vice-like grip, you had nowhere to go.

You pushed one foot forward, a difficult feat with a grown man attached to you, and your husband did not like that. He pulled at your dress some more—pulling down—and the action had you careening forward as you attempted to get away from him at the same time. With the floor fast approaching, you were prepared to crawl away from him, but Friedrich was much quicker on his feet than you.

Arms that were now increasingly familiar to you wrapped around your waist, catching you midfall, and Friedrich’s chest was to your back as he stood and brought you with him. You could feel his facial hair tickling your skin as he leaned in, deeply inhaling and kneading his fingers just under your chest.

“I cannot…”

His words trailed off as he forced you to face him, pink lips parted and blue eyes glazed over. Every step back from him was followed, and his nose touched yours while one hand found a home on your cheek. His lips touched yours for half a second before you pulled away, and he let you, frowning at you as if you confounded him.

She vexes me so.

You recalled those words that were not meant for your ears.

“I cannot…” his frown deepened. “I cannot resist you any longer.”

He finally stole a kiss from you, his lips covering yours in a way that no one ever had before. The kiss at your wedding was sweet—chaste even—but this was nothing of the sort. Friedrich deeply inhaled your every breath and pawed at you and pulled you closer if at all possible. The kiss made your head spin, and every time you attempted to move your head back, he followed. It was hard to breathe with his lips on yours.

You realized that what you felt against the back of your thighs was the bed, but only too late and when Friedrich’s hands tightened on the neckline of your dress. His lips sought out the flesh of your throat as he pulled and ripped it open completely. His blunt nails softly dragged against your skin as he yanked it down, moving closer, and with nowhere else to go, you felt yourself backed into a corner.

Your resistance was clear, and your husband wrapped an arm around your waist, briefly lifting you before dropping you on the soft surface. His large frame found solace between your legs, and you felt irreversibly trapped. He towered over you and his mouth held yours captive and his arms did not allow you anywhere to go.

You gasped his name into his mouth, a protest in your tone.

“I no longer have the strength to keep myself from you,” he murmured into the kiss. “Do not ask me to for I cannot do it.”

His hand slithered between your legs like a serpent, and you squirmed in a way you never had before. You had never even touched yourself there on lonely nights, recalling how unclean and unchaste it was said to be, but Friedrich was your husband. Surely that made it okay…but then why did it not feel okay in your chest? Perhaps it was because he scared you and isolated you and kept you locked away like some prized possession.

You felt yourself growing wet beneath his touch, and a low hum climbed from his throat as you laid your hand on his arm. When a finger slid into you, you dug your nails into his arm. The feel had you blinking, and when he added another, your eyes widened. A third had you gasping and him cursing—something you rarely heard. You felt stretched, and when he moved closer, forcing your legs to part more to accommodate him, you hissed.

“Lie back, my love,” he murmured to you. “It will feel much better.”

You refused to, one hand on the bed behind you in some weak hope that you could stop this before it went any further. You simply wanted freedom, and pleading with Friedrich for something so simple had ended in him seeking out his own pleasures instead. You could feel yourself dripping around his hand with every thrust of his fingers, and shame filled you.

When you were unable to swallow down a moan, you hid your face.

“There she is,” he slowly whispered, and when his thumb brushed over you in a way that had your arm weakening, he took advantage.

In one fell swoop, you found yourself on your back, your husband on top of you and his fingers still pushing into you. Your ruined dress hung off of you in tatters, and Friedrich tasted whatever visible skin there was. His large frame kept you pinned to the bed, and your eyes rolled and lashes fluttered from the way he moved his fingers and his hand between your thighs. You weakly murmured his name, and beyond that, in the quiet room, you could hear his movements. You could hear the wet sound of it, and more shame filled you, but you were not given time to linger on it.

He sat up on his knees, reaching down with his other hand so that he played you with both. You felt your back arching, and your breathing grew more shallow, and one hand gently massaged your mound while the other continued to push his fingers into your slick walls. He curled them into you over and over, massaging your insides and pressing the pads of his fingers against you.

It was unlike anything you ever felt, and when your stomach tightened—a rope or a coil or something deep within your gut—you let it until it could not any further, and you were suddenly gasping and whimpering in a way that made you sound possessed. You could feel Friedrich’s gaze on you, and when you managed to focus your own on him despite the difficulty, he wore an expression that you were sure you had never seen before.

It made you want to cover yourself and shy away, and when he pulled his fingers out of you—a tinge of red on them—that was exactly what you set out to do. 

Feeling hot and confused and unsettled by the man before you, you reached for the covers in an attempt to hide your nakedness, but your husband would not have it. He climbed over you, keeping you pinned between his thighs as he peeled off his light jacket, his tie and shirt and undershirt quick to follow.

You imagined that your wedding night would have been something akin to this, but only without this level of unease and fear and confusion. As it were, your wedding night was nothing like this. You had been alone, convinced of your husband’s lack of care for you, and now almost a year later, you were squirming beneath him and wanting to be as far away as possible from the man who metaphorically locked you in the tower and tossed the key.

“Friedrich,” you choked out, pushing at his chest. 

He leaned in and kissed you again, and you felt every bit of him as he forced you out of your garments completely.

The tip of him brushed against your sensitive flesh, and you shuddered beneath him. He would not stop kissing you, tasting the inside of your mouth and inhaling every gasp that escaped. His normally perfect hair was in disarray, and when he reached down between you, his other arm was proactive in holding you tight and in place for him.

The feel of his cock pushing into you almost made you wish for his fingers instead. You thought that you felt stretched before, but it was nothing in comparison to the slow way in which he sheathed himself inside of you. You felt unnaturally full, and it took your breath away. Friedrich groaned from above you, and you felt a shudder crawl up his back as he rested inside of you.

“I tried,” you heard him whisper. “I tried so very hard…but I cannot go another day without having you.”

He slowly pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained before sinking into you completely. You could not stop the movements of your body, your hips lifting with his as if being carried by a wave, a breathless sigh escaping with every thrust. His bare chest was pressed to yours, and his burly arms kept you right where he wanted you, and you felt yourself slowly forgetting why you had ever resisted him.

“Endless nights of lying awake and knowing you were a mere room away,” Friedrich breathed against your skin. “So close…and so forbidden to me.”

The speed of his hips grew, and your nails dug into his skin, dragging over it as he plunged his cock into you with a vigor you did not know he had. He was always so cold with you, keeping you at arm’s length even when he was touching you. You recalled the feel of his hand on your hair and his fingers on your mouth and a brush against your waist. Always giving in just a little bit more until he no longer had the desire to hold himself back. Always staring and watching and craving.

It was so clear to you, now, and all you could think was that your mother was right…

…and you were a fool.

“I feared I would break you,” he panted, thrusting into you so strongly that the bed beneath you shook. “I still fear that I just might.”

He pushed himself up onto his hands so that he could look down at you, and the dull tender ache had started to subside, replaced by something that far exceeded the pleasure his fingers had given you. Your back arched, and Friedrich wasted no time in dipping his head to wrap his lips around a heaving breast. His tongue swirling around a hardened bud had you reaching up to thread your fingers through his dark locks.

He groaned at the action, and when he lifted his head again, his intense blue gaze sought out yours. You softly moaned every time his hips curved into yours, his cock smoothly sliding between your folds, now and stroking you in a way that momentarily convinced you your freedom was not all that desirable. Your husband did not look away from your eyes again, and it felt overwhelming to be beneath him and staring into his eyes and feel him within you.

One of his hands reached up to touch your cheek, and a frown formed between his brows.

“So fragile… It would take nothing for me to break you, to snuff you right out,” his words made your heart skip a beat. “You test my self control in ways that terrify me.”

His hand traveled to your neck.

“I was right to fear the monster that I would unleash if I ever got my hands on you…”

His fingers danced to the back of your neck, and he gripped the hair at the nape there, slowly and gently forcing your head back. His hips did not relent once, meeting yours again and again, the sound of skin meeting skin reaching your ears among other things that filled you with shame. So much shame.

“For I will never be able to resist you again.”

He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses along the expanse of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste the damp skin, humming at the salty nature the thin sheen of sweat gave it. You whimpered when he reached down with his free hand, fingers brushing against you and circling you as you greedily clenched around his cock. 

“If anything happened to you,” he whispered into your neck. “It would be my undoing.”

[davelizewskiwife]

I’m obsessed with his voice in this movie omg, specially this part. I’m praying for him lol

[davelizewskiwife]

[davelizewskiwife]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ pov: your camera roll dating dave lizewski

(he trusted you with his hair, but let’s be real—he’s silently crying over how much you chopped off)

[davelizewskiwife]

hii, this is my first time requesting but can you write about reader waking dave up bc she just needs him?

I Need You

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: You bit your lip. Of course he would be worried. Dave was like that, without any sharp edges. And fuck, you loved him so much. He didn’t even suspect your perverted reasons for waking him up in the middle of the night on a weekday. But you couldn’t help it.

Warnings: smut

A/N: Hi love, I hope you like this <333 more notes at the end of the post

Masterlist

Dave thought he was dreaming. He felt something soft press against his jaw, as well as a familiar weight against his chest. His eyes remained closed until he heard a voice, your voice, calling him. “Davie,” you whispered, your mouth just below the shell of his ear. Your lips brushed against the soft skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Is it morning yet?” He asked, his voice still sleepy and huskier, steeped in doubt, his eyes narrowed as he took in the dim light that enveloped the room. “Not yet,” you answered, your voice low. Glancing at the clock next to his bedside, he was surprised to see that it was a few hours until dawn. He turned to you, his brows furrowed, you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning to figure out why he was being woken up. “Babe? Are you okay? Did something happen?” You bit your lip. Of course he would be worried. Dave was like that, without any sharp edges. And fuck, you loved him so much. He didn’t even suspect your perverted reasons for waking him up in the middle of the night on a weekday. But you couldn’t help it. Not after waking up from such a hot dream. The images were still in your mind, clear as a crystal-clear lake. Dave between your legs, filling you until nothing else existed. But then you woke up, your chest rising and falling unevenly, a light layer of sweat covering your skin and wet, so wet that you suspected your underwear was forever ruined. And Dave was beside you, sleeping soundly, his dark curls spread out on the soft pillow, forming a halo around your head, his eyelids closed covering his blue eyes. His lips parted and a relaxed expression molding his features. Painfully beautiful. You couldn’t just go back to sleep, not with the discomfort between your legs. But a part of you regretted waking up, but any regret evaporated from your mind with the liquid heat that had accumulated in your panties. “Davie…” you began, choosing your words for a moment. “I need you.” He stared at her in shock, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline, and you bet a lovely shade of pink stained his cheeks. “H-how?”

“I need you,” you repeated, this time emphasizing the words. Dave shifted in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, as if he was still struggling to wake up. It was cute. “Do you, uh… need me?” “Yes, Davie,” you replied sweetly, taking the liberty of leaning closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck, letting your lungs fill with his scent. Your mouth quickly began peppering kisses on the soft flesh, feeling him swallow. “I need you. I want you.” You spilled the words close to his ear, your fingers slowly wrapping around his. “I-“ Dave began, but the words died when you guided his hand to your soaked panties. A sigh bubbled out of your lips at the touch. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his fingers instantly grow wet. “You’re melting, baby.” “I know,” you swallowed, shuddering as he pressed the pad of his finger against your sensitive flesh. “Davie, please… oh, I need-” Your words were replaced by a moan as he pulled the undergarment away, taking his precious time to run it through your wet folds, delicately spreading your sweet arousal.

He didn’t need any more explanations. It wasn’t hard to push you until your back sank into the mattress, you were like putty in his hands. His fingers quickly tangled in the elastic of your panties, dragging the undergarment down your legs, ripping it from your body. Dave stopped, just for a moment, to enjoy the view. You were supple and needy between the sheets, your chest rising and falling out of rhythm, your skin bathed only by the little light filtering through the window. You did the impossible, every time he looked at you, you looked even more beautiful. His cock ached desperately, awakening to life, but it wasn’t about him. It was about you.

“You’re so beautiful.” That was all he said before he leaned in towards you, kissing you wildly. Feeling how hungry you were, desperate for any touch. You sighed against his lips, the fingers of your left hand quickly finding their way to his curls, tugging at them until you heard a low sound scratch the back of his throat. He continued to devour your mouth, stealing your breath — as if you didn’t give it up willingly. Dave was the kind of man who enjoyed kissing as much as making love. He kissed you like you were all that mattered, like you were his first and last. His kisses were like an I love you said up close.

When you pulled away, his mouth quickly found the soft flesh of your jaw, leaving hot kisses on your skin, making your eyes close involuntarily. You gripped his arms, your fingers curling over his biceps, as if that would be enough to keep you anchored to reality.

He continued with the kisses, lifting your shirt until your breasts were free. His mouth watered at the sight. The hard nipples that begged for attention. It sent a throb straight to his cock. Fuck. How could you be so perfect? ​​

His fingers reached your ribs, tracing lazy half circles before trailing down to the soft curve of your breast, watching as your breath hitched. His thumb found the hard peak, circling it a few times before his lips were there, sucking as if he needed it to live.

You moaned, arching your body in silent surrender, whimpering at the feeling of growing discomfort in your weeping pussy. With your mind clouded with pleasure, you didn’t even notice when his fingers slipped into the narrow space between your bodies. Dave pressed the tip of one finger into your slippery entrance, forcing his way into the narrow channel.

He knew what to do to please you, you had already taught him.

“Fuck, fuck, please!” You whimpered, rolling your hips to follow his movements, feeling as if your blood had been replaced by liquid fire.

Dave lifted his head, savoring the situation. There were few times when you acted more submissive, but to be honest, he liked being in control, but he liked it even more when you made him lose it.

As if sensing the intensity of his gaze, you opened your eyes. Watching his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, and without his glasses, he must not have been able to see properly — but nothing in the world would make him take his hands off you. A smile curved one corner of his mouth, the familiarity of the gesture made your chest tighten. But it wasn’t like you were capable of complex thoughts, not now. He filled you with a second finger, his thumb tracing circles on your clit and you swore you saw stars. Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer until your mouths collided in a clumsy kiss, your tongue tangling with his, you whimpered. “Please, make me cum,” you begged, feeling your lower belly heave mercilessly.

With his forehead still pressed against yours, Dave bit his lip, stifling a moan. He sank his fingers knuckle-deep into your pussy. “You will,” he assured, his voice huskier and lower, reverberating through your body. He added a third finger, your walls doing little to resist the invasion, he thrust in and out, coating his fingers with your arousal. You moaned, spreading your legs a little wider.

He fucked you faster, your hot, tight pussy contracting against him, as if wanting to take him deeper. You writhed, your hips lifting to meet his fingers every time he withdrew them. The wet sound mixed with your moans filled the room. It was music to his ears, his rock-hard cock twitching against his soft sweats.

“Davie, I… I’m gonna… oh.”

Your entire body tensed, then your legs shook violently as your head fell back, your lips parted in a moan. Your pussy throbbed around his fingers, saying his name like a cunning kitten.

Dave felt his own orgasm approaching. He withdrew his fingers and settled himself over you, settling himself more comfortably between your legs. “I need to feel you, love,” he said breathlessly, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth before pulling his cock from his pants. The thick tip leaked pre-cum as he pressed it against your pussy, grinding against your sensitive clit before fitting it at your entrance. He thrust in, a moan rumbling in his throat as you welcomed him, hot and sweet, just right, embracing every inch of him passionately. Dave tilted his head back, shuddering, controlling himself from spilling out at the same moment, his reactions so violent.

You dug your fingers into his back, whimpering from the overstimulation, your eyelashes fluttering.

Dave spoke your name as if it were a prayer, a blessing, or worship. Whispering words of love, telling you how perfect you were, how much he wanted you with every thrust.

He enjoyed the sight of you fervently. Your hair spread out on the pillowcase, your body flushed and trembling, your lips red and swollen from his kisses, and your eyes… oh, your eyes, clouded with pleasure and bright. You were his undoing. His hips lost their rhythm as he spilled himself into your pussy. You thought you had reached the fullness of your pleasure, but with hot ropes of cum filling your cunt, you moaned weakly.

Dave buried his face in your shoulder, breathing in the musky scent of your skin in an attempt to regain some control before lifting his face. He brought a hand to your face, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to your skin thanks to the sweat. “I wouldn’t mind waking up like this more often,” he smiled. You gave him an embarrassed smile, turning your face to leave a kiss on his hand on your cheek. “I’ll remember that.”

A/N: to be honest, this is the first time I've (really) written a smut in a while, so I'm kind of nervous

[davelizewskiwife]

Sergei Kravinoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: Sergei is captured and his only source of salvation and light is the young woman who visits him every day to bring him food and heal his wounds.

Genre: hurt and comfort <3

Warnings: reader has healing abilities, kidnapping, torture, blood, violence, drugging, shitty men, protective!Sergei

~ thank you 💜anon for this idea! i didn't make it smut but i hope you like it anyways ~

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

The Hunter. They'd captured The Hunter by. 

That was all you knew from the hushed whispers as they guarded your door. His name caused excitement around the compound and your curiosity was piqued. You stand from your small cot, limping over as the blood from your leg spills from the bandages. You press your palm against your door, catching snippets of the conversation in Russian, as you hold your breath. 

When you hear the latch to your door snap, you stumble back. The man with the scar enters, a smirk on his face. "Ah, you're up. Good. We have a new guest. You know what to do," he walks over and caresses your cheek, causing you to flinch, and he glances down at your leg. "And don't let him get close to you, not like the last one. Understand, pet? Cleaning you up was a fuckin' mess."

You nod, earning you a light tap on your cheek as he gestures for his men to come in with a tray of food.

The Hunter's cell is grim and dark, the drip of water from the ceiling is heard in the corner. Your eyes widen when you see him. He's suspended from his arms, rusty chains digging into his skin. He's shirtless, scratches and gashes of various stages litter his back and shoulders. He's breathing deeply as you walk in. He turns his head a little, catching your eyes and he lets out a sharp laugh, spitting out more blood.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He coughs up more blood, seeing the food on the tray. You circle to the front, resting the tray on the ground as you look up at him again. "They send you in to do the dirty work, принцесса (princess)?" 

You don't answer him, instead glancing at the security of the chains holding him. They're strong. Unbreakable you would guess and you look into his eyes again. You tear some of the bread and stand up, walking closer. Unlike many other prisoners, this one doesn't immediately lunge for you. He seems to be keeping his strength, simply observing your movements. You hold out the bread for him to bite out of your hand, but he spits blood at your shoes instead. 

"I don't need your food," he growls and tugs on the chains, turning his torso as he hisses in pain. You see a large gash on his side and your expression softens. You're here to heal him, at least so he doesn't die until he gives them the information they want.   

"I can help," you whisper, walking forward and reaching your hand to touch his side. The man inhales, readying himself to push you down—to do anything. He doesn't trust you. However, that plan falls through when he sees a glimpse of the bruising on your cheek. Someone has already hit you. He falters and then he gasps when your cold hand presses against the wound. 

"Shh," you soothe, bracing yourself, "this will only hurt for a moment. I promise."

"What are you—"

He grunts, feeling something sting and turns his head as best he can, twisting his torso. You pull your hand away, revealing the mostly healed wound. It's still badly bruised and you explain; "I can't heal the bruising. I c-can only help the process."

You sound scared of him and he looks back over to you, eyes dark. You just healed him. He looks at your hand and he sees that they're shaking. His eyebrows scrunch as he examines you. You're breathing heavily, looking exhausted. 

It drained you. 

Suddenly, there is a loud bang on the door, and a man's voice booms into the room and orders you back out in Russian. You catch your breath, holding out the bread for the man to take. You still want him to eat at least a little. Once he reluctantly eats the bread from your hand, you grab the tray and hurry out the door. 

The man hears the shout and he grimaces, pulling on his chains again. The wound doesn't hurt as much and his head is reeling from what had just happened. 

Who were you?

* * *

The next time Sergei sees you, he's chained to the wall, blood trickling down the side of his head. He hears the door enter and he smells you instantly. You smell sweet, not like the men who come in who stink of death and sweat. He turns his head, cracking a smile, as blood drips from his mouth. You set the tray down, kneeling in front of him on the dirty ground. Sergei's smile drops when he sees more bruising around your cheeks. They're hurting you too. His blood boils and he tries to fight against the chains once more, his body weak. 

He watches you silently as you take a syringe from the tray. Your hand is trembling and you look up at him. He knows what the liquid is, usually the men administer it when they torture him. It weakens him, making it impossible for him to break the chains that hold him in place. He growls like a hurt animal and you rest your hand on his arm. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, testing the syringe as the green liquid pours out and drips onto the ground. "They think you'll put up less of a fight if it's me—" 

Sergei narrows his eyes, the gold irises flickering underneath the surface, and he snarls; "Don't do this," he says but you gently push his head to the side, your hand on his forehead as you sink the needle into his neck. He grunts. No wonder the men are asking you to do this; it's dangerous for you. He could easily turn his head and bite you in this position. Usually, they prick him in the leg or somewhere safe that still works, but not as well as it could. They're becoming impatient it seems and they're now willing to turn you into a pawn. Perhaps, that's the reason he doesn't hurt you. He knows what that's like.

"I'm really sorry," you sob, holding his head as your hand trembles even more. Once the liquid is gone, you pull away. He looks calmer now, the drug already working. You drop the syringe and break some more bread. "Please eat," you whisper, pressing the stale bread to his lips, as if trying to counteract the drug by feeding him.    

He opens his eyes, reluctantly listening to you as he eats a bite. "They're hurting you too," he says and you shift uncomfortably, avoiding his intense glare. "Why? And why can't you heal yourself?" He'd noticed your limp the moment you walked and smelled the blood from your knee, even underneath your pants. You're injured. 

You sit back, touching the bruising along your eye, and look up at him. "You aren't the only prisoner they give that horrid liquid to," you whisper, looking at the syringe and then tilting your head and showing him the needle mark on your neck. "They like m-my ability, but only in moderation—"

Sergei groans, his chest burning with anger. He shakes his head when he sees you begin to clean up. "Who? Who are they?! Who has me!? I can help you—if you—wait—stop—" he watches you walk out helplessly. He groans again from the pain in his side as he shifts his position. Sergei realizes you haven't healed him today. He supposes that would go against the point of the fucking drug. 

Hours later, when he finally falls asleep, all he dreams of is you. 

* * *

"What is your name?" Sergei asks one evening as you run a warm cloth on his face, wiping away the dried blood from the beating he'd received. He hasn't cracked yet, not that he will. You startle a little, not expecting him to ask you that question. You glance up, meeting his gaze, and you whisper your name. 

"Kraven," he introduces. He wants to tell you his real name, but he doesn't know if he can fully trust you. Sergei winces when you swipe your hand across a cut on his cheek, healing the small wound. He pulls against the chains keeping his arms up. He groans, realizing it's useless. "How long have you been here, Y/n?"

You move to rub the cloth on his bare torso, going even quieter. "A year."

"Do you have a family?"

You shrug, turning away and preparing that damned drug again. The men have given up administering it and have charged you with that task instead. Sergei grimaces and when you look up, your hand gently turning his head like it always does, he doesn't fight you. Instead, he whispers, "Y/n, don't give it to me. I can get us both out of here. I won't hurt you. I promise." He's not entirely sure how long he's been here but he's desperate now. He locks eyes with you, almost pleasing. 

You wrap your arm around his nape, shifting and your voice shakes when you whisper, "They're watching. There is a camera— it can't hear us but it can see us." 

Sergei winces, feeling you prepare the syringe; however, he pauses when he looks to the side and sees that the needle is near the bare skin of your arm, the one covering his nape. "They make sure it's g-gone, this is the only way. Will your powers regenerate in one night?"

Sergei nods, his blue eyes are wide and he's a little alarmed when you administer the drug to yourself.

"They're watching us. Please, you have to pretend I gave it to you if you want this to work." 

"Will the drug hurt you?" he asks, knowing you're purposefully hiding what you're doing to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. 

You shake your head, pulling away and hiding the mark on your arm with your sleeve. "No– I just won't be able to use my powers for a while. It's okay. That's all it does. That's what it's been doing to you—weakening you." You gather your supplies with shaking hands as Sergei breathes heavily, keeping his body calm as you said. 

"I won't let them hurt you again," Sergei promises before you leave. You turn around to look at him, your eyes sad, as he whispers, "I'll find you, принцесса (princess)."

* * * 

"Wake up, Hunter." Sergei hears a loud bang as a metal pipe slams against the wall near his head. His eyes shoot open, his body not feeling as weak anymore and his gaze locks onto the two men who've been torturing him these past days. His eyes narrow and his hand twitches in the chains but his heart leaps when one of the men, the one with the scar on his lip, pulls you from behind the other man, his hand in your hair. "We have some exciting news," the man sings-songs and adds, "since ya seem so fond of each other."

Sergei's eyes frantically bounce from your scared expression to the men holding you, his jaw clenching. 

"Since you don't quite break when we break you, we must change our method, you understand," the other man laughs, unsheathing a knife and running it in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, controlling your breathing. "Now, if you continue not to give us anything, we'll just have to break your little girlfriend instead. And," the man laughs, "we promise with the damage we'll cause she won't have time to heal herself—"

Sergei's eyes narrow. The men are too busy laughing at the tears that fall from your eyes to notice the glimmer of gold behind his irises—but you do. You hold your breath, unsure what's about to happen but you know it can't be good considering that the drug you'd been giving him for the past week had faded so quickly. Sergei licks his lips, his sharp fangs showing for a second before he lunges for the men, the chains previously holding him easily ripping. 

You gasp, falling to the ground as you grasp the floor, scooting to the opposite side of the room, pressing your back to the wall as you watch as Kraven tears into one of the men's throats, growling like an animal would. You scream, covering your eyes with shaky hands as gunshots ring out and you hear more growls and ripping.  

Once the scream stops, you feel someone's presence over you. You peek through your fingers, your gaze stuck on the splatter of blood across his features. His eyes have returned to their normal blue and he crouches down, like an animal showing its submission as his knuckles skim your cheeks and wipe away your tears.

"Are you okay?" He mutters, his voice hoarse. You nod hesitantly and when he scoops his hand under your knees and your back, you accept and wrap your arms around his neck. 

"I'm here," he whispers. 

Your hands tremble and you nod, finding your voice as you squeeze your eyes shut again so you don't see the lifeless bodies he'd left in his wake as he walks to the exit. However, you can't bring yourself to feel pity; those men had tortured him. And they'd tortured you for even longer. "Thank you, Kraven," you say quietly and he holds you tighter. 

"Sergei," he says, "My name is Sergei."

You hum, resting your eyes as your head falls onto his chest. When you open your eyes again, you're in a truck. Sergei is on the phone, talking in Russian, and you understand snippets of his conversation. You're buckled in, your head resting on the passenger window as the headlights from the other cars blind you. You groan, your head is pounding. "You slept for hours, is that normal,  принцесса (princess)?" Sergei asks, putting his phone in his pocket as he continues to drive. 

"Where are we?"

"Russia," Sergei says and he looks at you with a worried expression, "We've always been in Russia—did you not know where they were holding you?" You shake your head, a little embarrassed. You really didn't know. Sergei clicks his tongue and runs a hand over his face. He's cleaned himself up, the blood is gone and he looks in much better form. He senses you staring and he looks over, "I made some calls. My brother—he has connections," he tells you, explaining the truck. 

"Where are you taking me?" you ask quietly. 

Sergei's eyes narrow. "My home," he pauses, "just so you can rest, I'm not sure how long that drug will last on you, but once you're better, I can take you home."

"Home," you whisper and look down at your lap, picking at your nails. "I have no home."

Sergei is quiet as he looks at the road again. "Well, you can stay with me then. I'll take care of you." 

Silence looms over you as the truck rolls along icy roads, the hum of the engine filling the air. You glance at Sergei again, your gaze softening. He looks different now—calmer, more composed, less weak and frazzled. His knuckles are no longer bloodied, his breaths even now, and yet, there is something simmering underneath, like a fire that hasn't quite burned out.

"You really don't have to do that," you tell him, staring out the window. "You have already done enough."

He just chuckles, low and rough. "Enough? I went through hell, принцесса (princess), I'm not stopping now." He glances at you, his eyes sharp as they lock onto yours and his voice almost wavers when he says. "You saved me first. I owe you."

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond. He sounds so serious, as if nothing you say would sway him. You decide not to speak. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, the aftermath of the drug still dulling your senses. You sigh and shut your eyes, leaning your head against the window again as the lights from outside lull you asleep.

Once the truck finally stops, you wake to the sound of Sergei opening your door. Snow crunches under his boots as he reaches in and effortlessly lifts you into his arms again, ignoring your half-hearted protests. 

"Stop fussing, will you," he mutters, his voice softer now. "You're still weak."

The large house he carries you into is cool, the scent of pine and something faintly sweet greeting you. It's a small but comfortable cabin, filled with old family trinkets and photos of a family of four; two young boys sitting on their mother's knee.

Sergei wordlessly sets you down on a couch, draping a blanket over your shoulders before crouching and starting a well-needed fire. Once the flames crackle, he turns and his hands hover over your knees, uncertain, as if he's not surewhere to begin. 

Finally, he lifts his arms and brushes some hair back from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Rest," he commands. His tone is calm and serious but the corners of his mouth twitch upward as if he's hiding a small smile. "I will make us food."

You still don't say a word as you watch him retreat to the kitchen, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in a long while. The danger is gone, replaced with a warmth you haven't felt. You glance around the room and you realize that for the first time in a long long time, you feel completely safe.

You smile softly, watching the fire burn and listening to Sergei walk around the kitchen. 

[davelizewskiwife]

Waiting and watching

(Kraven x reader)

Summary- After agreeing to go on a camping trip with your asshole boyfriend someone’s lurking eyes follow your every move infatuated with your every move

⚠️Warnings⚠️- prey and predator dynamic, ROUGH, pet names, praise, size and height difference, Dom Sergei, belly bulge, blood, death, fluff, angst, abuse, shitty fiancé, weapons

The cool moons gaze shone through the leaves as they swayed gently in the nights air. “ I don’t understand why you make everything such a big fucking deal” my finance let out an exasperated sigh. The fire mirrored my anger as my skin started to boil. “I’m not making it a big deal but you said we would do something just the two of us and you won’t get off your god damn phone texting that same home wrecking bitch”. Raising his hand, like a bolt of lightning it clashed hard against the skin of my cheek. “SHE IS JUST A FRIEND YOU INSECURE LITTLE BITCH, you absolutely disgust me. Everyday I fail to see the point in marrying you” as if you could hear it, the pang of your heart shattering filled your ears. Like little glass piece to reflect the pain you feel on the inside the tears slipped out one by one, splashing to the ground. “Wait no baby I’m so sorry I didn’t mean that” raising your cold hand to your face to gently pat the area that had previously been struck. You flinched a bit, when you started to apply pressure on the area. He started to walk towards you. The hairs in the back of your neck stood up as you started walking backwards. Fight or flight kicks in as the adrenaline starts to pump in your veins. You trying to steady your breathing as your quick shallow breaths start to become more rapid. “Woah woah calm baby” he takes another step reaching out from your arms. “Don’t touch me” you warn. You see his expression turn from soft to angry. “I fucking said come here” he grips your arm harshly as he tries to drag you into him. “I SAID DON’T” you mind as stormy as the rain drops fell from your eyes.

You felt like a little kid again. You felt so helpless because the only thing you could do was cower away and cry. “Stop please not again” your sobs echoed through the dark forest. “NO, you’re my property you belong to ME. I’m so sick and tired of you stepping out of line and NOT BEING THE OBEDIENT LIKE BITCH YOU ARE” he raises his hand to strike you again but stops. The tension in the air rises as goosebumps start to creep up on your skin. You see your fiancés face change from angry to terrified. You couldn’t see what was behind you but you were too terrified to look. A deep thick accent starts speaking behind you. “Unhand her and bring her to me. It’s disgusting how you treat such a beautiful woman and treat her like filth”. The look of terror slowly fades as a smug smile starts to replace it. “Beautiful? Dude you must be fucking delusional. But you want me to hand MY property over to you? No way, not with out a price at least” My fiancé quickly moved his hand from my arm to the nape of my neck and pulls my hair back and downward making me lose my balance and fall on the ground. Yanking my head up, he makes me face the unknown stranger and look at him. As soon as your eyes meet his a spark lit within you. He was one of the most gorgeous men you have set your eyes on. You scanned his face feeling a sense of familiarity. His nose, his cheekbones, his messy hair, his striking blue eyes. “I said unhand her, but since you wanna be difficult I’ll give you one last chance before we have to do this the difficult way” The unknown man tilts his head sideways in amusement. My fiancé pulled out his travel knife as flicked it open. The strangers stare turned from to amused to annoyed. “I said list a price, her parents sold her to me so I’m not willing to let my property go that easy. So either list a price or I might have to damage this filthy face before the wedding” he held the cold blade to my face and furry flickered across the other man’s face.

“I warned you” the man shrugged his shoulders. In what feels like a second my fiancé let out a blood curdling scream. I was to in shock to notice what was dripping down my face instead I was staring a the gun in his hand. “WHAT THE HELL YOU GOD DAMN LUNATIC” then the man shifted his gaze from my fiancé to me. “Come with me” I look back at my fiancé, he was cowering and gripping his shoulder like an hurt animal, the bullet wound in his shoulder gushing blood staining his hands with crimson nectar as horror and anger was etched on his face. “Y/n I swear to god if you move even inch I will make your life miserable” “y/n..” I heard my name being murmured by the man. I looked at him a softly nodded. I stood up and started to close the distance between me and him. It felt natural, I felt pulled to him as if I’ve done this same action a hundred times before. “Y/N IM GIVING YOU ONE CHANCE TO GET BACK HERE”. Standing in front of the man I get a better look at him. Gorgeous was an understatement. He raise his hand to the side of my face and gently caresses the side of my cheek. Not breaking the eye contact he lowers his hand and lets a small smile cross his face.

“Let’s go” I let ok a soft “okay” already missing the gentle touch this man has offered me. My “fiancé” yelled at our figures as we walked further into the forest. Through the comfortable silence I took a glance up at him. “What’s your name?” Turning his head to look down at me amused by my question “Sergei, and you are y/n if I’m right” hearing my name come from his mouth sounded so right. You let out a little chuckle. “Yes I am, also thank you Sergei for intervening in that situation”. “No man should treat such a gorgeous woman with such disdain.” You looked down at your feet try to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you… anyway if you don’t mind me asking, why are you out here so late at night?” You see a deep amber glow, you couldn’t make it out because the array of thick woods is blocking your view. “I own these woods Дорогой (darling)” “you own them?!” So he is like rich rich, woah. As you make your way through the woods you start to make out the amber glow to be a gorgeous house. The first half of the house was a dome shape and then extended out past that. “Wow it’s beautiful” walking up to the house it was this rustic modern type of house with a lot of greenery. You admired the pristine and clean condition the house was in. “This house is absolutely stunning” You look over to him to see him intensely staring at you . His gaze slowly devouring you. In his presence you felt like a small animal underneath the gaze of a ferocious predator. “What did you say Дорогой (darling)”. You started to turn a little pink at the nickname. “Oh, I said your house is very pretty.” “Ah, thank you. I do have a question though, Are you hungry?” His eyes boring into you. His icy gaze has you in a chokehold as you struggle to find an answer. He tilts his head at you curiously waiting for an answer. “Pardon me, I am feeling a bit peckish”. As in approval to your question he nods his head as he makes his way over to the kitchen. “Go sit on the couch Дорогой (darling)”. You do as you’re told and sit on the couch, sinking into it as the worries slip from your body. Your shoulders relax into the comfy cushion and you lay your head back a bit. Sergei looks up from what he is doing and lets a small smirk of satisfaction cross his face at your obedience.

“So whatcha making” you turn your head lazily towards him letting the couch swallow you hole as you watch Sergei cook. “I hope you don’t mind Caesar salad Великолепный (gorgeous)” “not at all.” You start to feel your eyelids close. You try and stay awake but the darkness consumes your vision as you fall into a light sleep. Softly snoring, Sergei looks over at you. A sense of control and possessiveness wash over him, satisfaction also starts to creep in once again. You are in his house in sleeping in his presence. Your innocence lures him in, ever since the first time you stepped in his forest he has had a strange obsession with you. Your ex fiancé and you camped here often and every time you did you entranced him more and more. The way your hair softly swayed in the wind, or the little crease in your nose that appeared when you angry was always so amusing to him. The only reason he finally decided to step in today was that he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt again. His chest tightened every time you cried. He looked back to what he was doing and finished up the salad. Walking over to you placing down the bowl on the wooden table in-front of you have gently started to tap you releasing you from your sleep. “Hmm?” You stretched a bit trying to wake your tired form. “Here is your food Дорогой (darling)” you rubbed your eyes before taking the wooden bowl in your hand as well as the silver utensil. “What does that mean” as your fork dipped into the food piercing the salad as it made a crisp crunch. “It means darling” he looked at you intently as you started to eat the food seeing your ears slightly reddened at the nickname. “Mmm, this salad is very good” “why thank you Дорогой (darling)” your ears turned a shade darker. After a while of talking you finished your salad and got up “what are you doing?” “Cleaning the dish?” He cocked his head to the side “but you don’t have to do that let me”. He stood up and stalked towards you until he was standing directly next to you. He reached his large hand towards you trying to take the sponge from. You swiftly moved your hand aways from his before he could grab it “I insist Sergei” you looked him in his eyes.

They glowed from a faint yellow faded back to his beautiful blue eyes. “Woah what was that” you turned to him gently taking your hand to his face. He grabbed your hand and pulled it away from his face. “I advise you not to do that Сладкое сердце (sweet heart) I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself” His words injected electricity into your veins. Feeling brazen you stood on your tippy toes and leaned into his ear “Then don’t”. A deep groan left his throat. He looked as if he were arguing with himself. You took his hand in yours and lightly traced his palm. The small action made his composure snap as he picked you up and propped you up on the counter so you were eye level with him. “You sealed your fate Дорогой (darling). You belong to me now” you felt frisson run through you as he gently stroked up and down your legs. You always hated it when your fiancé said that but hearing it from Sergei’s mouth. Seeing his soft pink lips mouth those words made you pulse with anticipation. “Now finish sealing your fate Дорогой (darling)” a small smirk fall upon his lips. You leaned in, like the worlds your lips were only centimetres apart from colliding. You felt his hot breath fanning against your lips, you moved a little closer then pulled back a bit smiling and looking in his eyes which switched from blue to this piercing golden colour. His eyes felt so predatory, so animalistic. You feel the goose bumps rising on your skin. “Ah ah ah, we don’t play those games here Кролик (bunny)” he snuck his hand behind the hair in the nape of your neck. He harshly tugged your head back exposing your neck as he went in straight for the kill. His soft lips roughly attacked your neck leaving deep bruises from how hard he is sucking on the delicate skin. He worked his way around you neck until he found you pulse. Hovering above that spot for a minute he opened his mouth and sunk his teeth deep in your skin making you yelp in agony. “Ah fuck Sergei.” He pulled away and lightly traced the area. “Now everyone knows you belong to me, my little Кролик(bunny)” he pulled you closer and hooked his arms underneath you legs while slowly leaning in to kiss you.

Your lips crashed together like waves on a shore. First it started as a gentle kiss but it quickly became more hungry, more needy. He had this need to devour you. Lifting you from the counter he walked from the kitchen to his bed. Letting you down slowly. He pinched the underside of your thigh. Earning a gasp from you he stuck his tongue in your mouth. His tongue exploring your mouth as if it was a new piece of land he found. You felt him undo your jeans and start to slip them off. You tugged at his shirt wanting him to take it off. Pulling away he stepped back allowing him some room to undress. “Take off the rest of your clothes Кролик (bunny)” you nodded eagerly quick obeying his command. You lied there, naked in his bed. “You look exquisite Кролик (bunny). Good enough to eat almost” he crawled on top of you, you moved your hands up and down his big forearms relishing in the amount of muscle this man has. Your hands made your way up to his biceps then to his shoulders. “Are you ready Кролик (bunny)?” “Yes Sergei”. He spread your legs and positioned himself with your entrance. “I like the way my name sounds out of you mouth, but I think I’d been even better if you were screaming it.” He slowly pushed into you. You let out a loud gasp at how big he was. “That’s it Кролик (bunny) just relax your doing so well already”. After a minute his hips are met with yours. “I’m going to start moving Кролик (bunny) prepare yourself.” He pulled out agonisingly slowly then rammed his hips into you. “Holy fuck Sergei” he was drilling into you at an inhuman pace. “Look down Кролик (bunny), you see that” you started to drool losing your mind to the pleasure as he is still digging in you. You look down following his gaze you watch as he disappears and reappears in you a bulge present in you lower abdomen. “Now Кролик (bunny) what happens if I do this” he uses his hand to push down on the area causing a hot white flash to blur your vision as you start to chant his name like a prayer. “Such a Хорошая девочка (good girl) for me, squirting all over my cock like this trying to milk me hm?" “Please please please Sergei AHHH” he goes faster then before chasing his own release. The grip he has on your hips feel like he is going to leave bruise. “I’m almost there Кролик (bunny)” your sense start to get overstimulated as you feel the knot in your stomach start to grow again. You feel him twitch inside you. He hits the spot making you cum. As your squeezing him you feel his thick ropes shot out filling you to the brim as he lets this animal like growl. “Fuck Кролик (bunny) you did such a good job” he slowly pulls out and gets up.

You are panting trying to regain your breathe as he walks back to you with a warm damp towel. “God you look so pretty Кролик (bunny). Now here let me clean you up”. He leaves and goes to put the towel somewhere and walks back over sliding in the bed and pulling you in his arms. “Rest Кролик (bunny) you can close your eyes without worry now sweet dreams Дорогой (darling)”. Slumber falls upon you as you and you fall asleep feeling safe in his warm strong arms.

Authors note:

HEY MUNCHKINS IK ITS BEEN A LITTLE BUT SINCE I POSTED SO HERE YOU GO I GOPE YOU LIKE IS AND U HOPE ILL SEE YALL NEXT TIME

[davelizewskiwife]

In the Rain

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: "Wait," Dave called, his voice sounding as hesitant as the touch on your shoulder had been. You stopped and turned to face him, feeling the cold rain begin to soak through your shirt. He looked a bit nervous, as if he were gathering the courage to continue. "I… can walk you home? I mean, with this." He lifted the umbrella in his hand, its tip tilting slightly to the side, almost as if reflecting the shyness of its owner.

Warnings: none

request from my dear @lilyypotter1234, i hope you like it <333

Masterlist

The sky was overcast, completely clouded, and the raindrops seemed as big as golf balls. You groaned, there was no chance of getting home dry, all you could hope for was not catching a damn cold.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing to face the rain – maybe run a little, but before you could take the first step, you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. The touch was warm and firm. Your head spun immediately, meeting Dave's blue eyes. He was looking at you hesitantly.

It was cute. You liked him, to be honest, the way he seemed so adorable.

"Hey, Dave," you smiled, momentarily forgetting about the rain falling nonstop. "Perfect day to watch Twilight, huh?"

"Sparkly vampires?" He flashed one of those crooked smiles you loved. "No thanks."

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. "Don't be smug, sparkly vampires were a milestone in film history."

Dave snorted. Although you could see how his eyes were sparkling with amusement. Damn, why did he have to be so handsome? You turned your gaze away, letting out a soft sigh as you realized there was no way to escape a rainstorm. "See you tomorrow? I’ve got to face this dreadful rain."

"Wait," Dave called, his voice sounding as hesitant as the touch on your shoulder had been. You stopped and turned to face him, feeling the cold rain begin to soak through your shirt. He looked a bit nervous, as if he were gathering the courage to continue. "I… can walk you home? I mean, with this." He lifted the umbrella in his hand, its tip tilting slightly to the side, almost as if reflecting the shyness of its owner.

You blinked, surprised. "Really? You don't have to, Dave, I can run home."

"I know," he replied, his blue eyes gleaming with a kind of determination that seemed rare in him. "But… it’s raining a lot. And… I don’t mind."

That was ridiculously sweet. A soft smile formed on your lips before you even realized it. "Okay, fine. Thanks."

Dave opened the umbrella with a click and stepped closer, holding it above both of you. It was small – or maybe it was the closeness that made it feel even smaller. As you started walking, the sound of the rain hitting the fabric created a comforting rhythm, almost like a romantic movie soundtrack you never thought you’d experience.

"So, if sparkly vampires aren’t your thing," you started, trying to break the silence that seemed warmer than uncomfortable, "what’s your type of movie?"

"Superheroes, probably," he replied, half-hunched, as if expecting you to tease him. "But the good ones, you know? Not the ones that are just explosions with no sense."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Of course, what else would I expect from you?"

"And what does that mean?" Dave asked, turning his face towards you, the smile playing on his lips.

"Just that… it suits you. Superheroes have that thing about protecting people, and you’re…" You hesitated, realizing what you were about to say. "You’re cool like that."

For a moment, he seemed speechless. "You think that about me?"

"Maybe," you murmured, the warmth rising to your face, but too shy to look him directly in the eyes.

As you walked, you started to notice something: the edge of the umbrella was tilted more toward your side. Your shoulders were dry, but the sleeve of Dave’s jacket was starting to get soaked, and the hair at the back of his head seemed wet.

"Dave," you called, stopping abruptly. He turned his face toward you, confused. You raised an eyebrow, pointing to the umbrella. "You’re practically sacrificing yourself to keep me dry."

"Oh, it’s nothing," he quickly replied, looking away and scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. "You’ll get sick if you get too wet."

Your heart melted a little – maybe more than just a little. Before you could think too much, you took a step closer to him, gently holding the edge of his jacket and pulling him under the umbrella. "This is better. You don’t have to get wet to be a superhero, you know?"

The closeness was palpable. You felt the heat of his arm brushing against yours, and when you looked up, you saw he was already looking at you, his blue eyes intense in a way that made you swallow hard. Dave quickly turned his gaze away, but not before you saw his cheeks take on a rosy hue.

"Thanks," he murmured, almost in a whisper, as you both kept walking, now closer. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but comfortable – filled with something sweet and undefined that made your heart race.

But then, the wind started. First, it was a persistent breeze shaking the trees around you, but soon it became a strong gust, enough to make the small umbrella tremble in Dave’s hands. He tried to hold it, adjusting the position, but the wind seemed determined to make it useless.

"Oh, crap!" he exclaimed when, in one final blow, the wind tore the umbrella from his hands and sent it flying through the air like a clumsy bird. You barely had time to track it with your eyes before you realized that the rain was now falling freely on both of you, soaking everything in seconds.

You let out a surprised scream, already feeling the cold drops running down your face. "Great! There goes the plan to stay dry!"

Dave let out a laugh – a genuine, warm sound that made you forget for a moment how soaked you were getting. "Okay, new mission: shelter! Come with me!"

Before you could react, he grabbed your hand, his fingers warm and firm against yours, and started running, pulling you with him. The sensation was almost electrifying, and even with the rain pouring down heavily, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Both of you ran through the wet pavement, jumping over puddles and laughing as if it were the most fun thing in the world. It was impossible not to feel lighthearted, even with the water running down your face and clothes sticking to your body. Finally, you spotted an awning from a closed store, and Dave led you under it, out of breath and laughing as if it were hard to control.

"Ugh... I said I’d keep you dry," he said between laughs, trying to catch his breath.

You laughed, lightly pushing his shoulder. "Dry? That was a complete disaster!"

He straightened up, still smiling, then looked at you. Something in his eyes seemed to shift – a softness, an intensity that made the air around you feel different, thicker. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

"You’re..." Dave started, his voice lowering. His hand slowly rose, hesitating as he moved a wet strand of hair from your forehead. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, and you held your breath.

"A mess?" you tried to joke, but your voice came out softer than you intended. The closeness between you made each beat of your heart feel too loud.

Dave smiled, but it was small, shy, almost nervous. "No... beautiful," he said, his tone so soft you thought, for a moment, that you might have imagined it.

Your heart raced, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away. He was so close you could see every drop of rain stuck to his lashes, every feature of his face. And he didn’t seem like he wanted to pull away.

The rain kept pouring down around you, but under the awning, the world seemed to have stopped. The only sound was the breath between you, catching in your throats, and the distance separating you was so small it felt palpable.

"Dave..." you murmured, not knowing exactly what you wanted to say. But he didn’t respond. His blue eyes were locked on yours, as if trying to decipher something – or maybe deciding what to do.

You didn’t move. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t. And then he tilted his head slightly, as if testing the boundaries of this closeness, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Everything felt so absurdly sweet, so ridiculously romantic, that you had to remind yourself to breathe.

The distance between you seemed to vanish slowly, not just physically, but everything around you. The rain hammering the ground, the wind still howling between the trees – none of it mattered. The whole world seemed to shrink down to him. The way Dave was so close, so hesitant yet so sure, made your heart stumble with each beat.

He didn’t move suddenly, nor thoughtlessly. Every little gesture felt charged with meaning. His fingers, still holding the strand of hair he had moved from your face, were almost still now, but the feeling of his touch lingered, warm and comforting.

Dave’s eyes were still fixed on yours, and you could see the hesitation there – an internal battle between doing what he wanted and respecting the space he might think should exist. He took a deep breath, his shoulders visibly rising and falling, before murmuring something almost inaudible.

"Sorry... it’s just..."

You tilted your head slightly, as if encouraging, but he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, you saw the courage emerge in him like a small ray of sunshine amidst the storm. Dave leaned in just a little more, and the space between you was so small now you could hear your heart beating like it could be heard.

It was you now, who found yourself without reaction, but not because you didn’t want to – oh, you wanted to – but because it seemed impossible to interrupt that moment. Each second was filled with something sweet and overwhelming. His breath brushed your skin, and you almost closed your eyes, waiting, hoping.

But Dave stopped, the mere fraction of a second before his lips touched yours. He was so close, so palpably nervous, you could feel his hands trembling slightly. His gaze met yours once more, as if silently asking if this was what you wanted.

And the answer was clear. You didn’t know how or why, but it was you who closed the small space that remained. Your hand moved almost without thinking, gently touching his arm, as your lips finally met his.

The kiss was as sweet as you imagined. No rush, no excess, just a soft touch that made time stand still. The rain continued to fall, but under the awning, the only thing that mattered was him – Dave, with that clumsy, adorable way of his that always seemed to know how to make your heart lighter.

When you finally pulled away, just enough to breathe, you saw he was smiling. A small, shy smile, but so genuine you couldn’t help but smile back. Dave seemed surprised and enchanted at the same time, as if he couldn’t believe it really happened.

"Wow," he murmured, still looking at you with those blue eyes that now shone like the clear sky you hadn’t seen all day. "I... didn’t think... I mean..."

You laughed softly, cutting off his stammer with a fond look. "Dave, can you stop trying to explain it? It was perfect."

He blinked, a little flustered, but then smiled again, this time wider. "Okay, then... I’ll just say... you’re amazing."

"And I’ll say you’re terrible with umbrellas," you replied, the teasing light, but full of affection.

He laughed, a warm, sincere sound that seemed to chase away any lingering cold. "Okay, fair. But at least I kept you dry for a while, right?"

You smiled, shaking your head as you looked at him – still a little wet, but with that sparkle in his eyes that made everything seem worth it. "You did much more than that."

And as you stood there, under that awning, the sound of the rain making the moment even more intimate, you knew this day, despite all the gusts of wind and torrential rain, was one you’d never forget.

[davelizewskiwife]

Hero's Kiss

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: “Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.” Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?” Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. “Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Warnings: a nasty guy, but nothing serious

request from my dear @lilyypotter1234 (one of my most beloved readers in the whole world, seriously, you are absolutely cute), i hope you like it <333

Masterlist

It was just any afternoon, and you were walking calmly through the comic book store, trying to decide whether it was worth buying a new issue or saving your money for a little longer to buy those jeans you saw earlier. What was worth more: a new X-Men edition or a pair of jeans that would make your legs look fantastic? It was a tough choice.

You were still thinking when someone approached, a guy, probably your age or a little older, with a smile curving his lips and bright eyes. “Hey, princess,” he said, the smile widening a little more. Your eyebrows furrowed, but you replied with a “hey” before turning your eyes back to the shelf.

“Can I help you pick something out?” he continued, not picking up on your disinterest. You forced a polite smile, trying not to be rude.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good for now.”

He didn’t move away. In fact, he seemed even more determined to strike up a conversation.

“You like comics? You don’t seem like the type, you know?” He let out a light laugh, as if he was trying to be charming.

Your hands gripped the strap of your purse, the discomfort beginning to grow in your chest. “Yeah, I like them. I think everyone has their own type.”

“Oh, sure. But seriously, you seem more like the kind of girl who likes romance or fashion, not comic books.” He laughed again, but it didn’t sound so harmless anymore.

You tried to discreetly step away, but he followed every move, blocking any attempt to escape the situation.

“Hey, wait, princess. What’s the problem? I’m just being friendly.”

His words sounded almost like an accusation, laden with an insistence that made the knot in your throat tighten even more. You took a step back, but he subtly moved forward, blocking your exit. The store suddenly felt smaller, and every movement of yours seemed analyzed by that gaze that made your discomfort palpable.

You looked around, your heart hammering in your chest, desperately searching for an escape route. That’s when your eyes found him.

Dave Lizewski.

He was a little farther away, near a shelf full of limited editions. His relaxed posture was familiar, almost comforting. Dave had his head tilted to the side, completely absorbed in reading a comic book, his glasses slipping down his nose and the tips of his brown hair slightly falling over his eyes.

You recognized him immediately. You weren’t close friends, but enough to exchange a few words at school now and then. He always had a crooked smile and an awkward joke ready, making you feel like he was… safe. Maybe the only safe person right now.

Without thinking much, you made your way toward him. Your legs felt heavier with each step, like the nervousness was pulling you back, but the need to escape was stronger. When you got close, Dave finally noticed your presence, looking up from behind his glasses. He blinked, surprised to see you so suddenly.

“Hey babe,” you said, the word coming out louder and firmer than you expected. “I’ve been waiting for you for a while.”

Dave blinked again, confused. “Huh? Waiting…?”

Before he could finish the sentence, you closed the gap between you, your heart racing. Your hands briefly touched his chest, gently pushing him back against the shelf. He stumbled slightly, his eyes wide as you stood on tiptoe and brought your lips to his ear.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice soft and almost trembling. “Kiss me. Just trust me.”

Dave froze. You felt his chest rise and fall quickly under your hands, and for a moment, you feared he might push you away. But he didn’t have time to react. Before any words could leave his mouth, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss started hesitantly, a light, unsure touch. But then you felt Dave relax. His hands, which had been by his sides, rose with an almost adorable hesitation, resting on your waist. His fingers were warm against your skin even through your clothes, and the touch was enough to make your heart leap.

What started as a request for help quickly turned into something more. The kiss gained a depth that surprised you. It wasn’t just the nervousness, the desperation to escape the previous situation—it was a real, intense moment. His lips were soft, but there was a firmness in the way he held you, as if he wanted to anchor you there.

When you finally pulled away, the world around you seemed to have disappeared completely. Dave looked at you like he’d just been struck by lightning. His face was flushed, his brown eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his glasses.

“I… Sorry, I…” you started, but the words seemed tangled in your throat.

Dave blinked a few times, clearly trying to process what had just happened. “What… Why…?”

You took a deep breath, looking over your shoulder. The guy who had been bothering you was still nearby, but now he was looking at you with a disapproving expression, as if he’d finally gotten the message. Turning your eyes back to Dave, you felt warmth rise in your face.

“There was a guy behind me. He was… persistent. I didn’t know what to do,” you explained, your voice coming out quieter than you intended. “I thought you could help.”

Dave followed your gaze toward the guy, and something in his expression changed completely. The discomfort and surprise faded, replaced by something much firmer, something that seemed like protection.

“You said he was bothering you?” Dave asked, his voice lower now, but filled with a seriousness that caught you off guard.

You just nodded, unable to find the words. It was strange seeing Dave like this. At school, he always seemed a little lost, with geeky t-shirts and books under his arm. But now, with his eyes locked on the guy and his posture more upright, he seemed like a different person.

“I get it,” he said, almost to himself. Before you could react, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders.

The touch was firm, but in a way that made you feel protected, not trapped. He pulled you closer, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his fingers gently squeezing your shoulder in a small, reassuring gesture. Your body reacted before your mind could process it, relaxing under his touch.

Dave took a step forward, positioning both of you directly in the guy’s line of sight. His gaze was firm, more so than you’d ever seen it. There was no hesitation, just a calm confidence that contrasted completely with the Dave you thought you knew.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked, his tone calm but loaded with a clear intent.

The guy looked at both of you, his face contorted in a mix of confusion and irritation. He seemed to size Dave up for a moment, as if deciding whether it was worth responding.

“No, no problem at all,” he muttered, finally looking away. The discomfort was evident, but he took a few steps back before disappearing through the store.

You let out a sigh you hadn’t realized you were holding in. The tension that seemed to hang in the air began to dissipate, but Dave’s arm was still around you, warm and secure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you. His tone was completely different now—softer, almost affectionate.

“Yeah, I…” You looked at him, noticing for the first time how close he was. Dave’s face, always marked by shyness and awkward expressions, now seemed more serious, more present. But the blush coloring his cheeks betrayed that he was still the same sweet guy, even though he had just completely surprised you.

“I just… didn’t expect this from you,” you admitted, your voice coming out quieter than you meant.

He laughed, a short, almost nervous sound. “This what? That I could scare off a guy with glasses and a Batman shirt?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, that. This side... protective. It’s different.”

He scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, his arm still around your shoulders as if he didn’t want to break the façade you two had created. “Well, I’m not too bad at it, right? I just thought… I couldn’t leave you alone with that guy.”

There was something in the simplicity of his answer, in the honesty without pretense, that made your heart warm.

“Thank you, Dave. Seriously. You… made me feel safe,” you said, and there was no hiding the smile that accompanied your words.

He looked at you for a moment, and his smile appeared slowly, like it was contagious. “I’m glad to hear that. Anything… just call me, okay? For anything.”

You felt his arm tighten slightly around your shoulders, such a small gesture but one that said so much. Dave Lizewski—always awkward, always a bit shy—had just transformed, at least in your eyes, into someone you knew you could trust.

When Dave’s arm finally moved from your shoulders, the space between you seemed to have subtly, yet intensely, changed. It wasn’t just the kiss or the uncomfortable situation you had just faced. It was the way he looked at you now, with that glimmer in his eyes that you didn’t remember seeing before, a mix of concern, mild surprise, and… something else. Something sweet and almost vulnerable.

You felt strange with the proximity, as if the world around you had shrunk, and you two were the only ones there. The touch he had given your shoulders still felt warm, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something much more between you than just a simple act of help.

Then, without meaning to, the question came out, impulsive but full of sincerity that you couldn’t hide.

“And can I… thank you properly, hero?”

Dave froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and you saw the blush spread across his face adorably fast. It was as if the world was playing with him, weaving another layer of embarrassment that made him even cuter. He ran a hand through the back of his neck, clearly nervous, trying to find an answer that didn’t sound completely flustered.

“Uh… Uh… Sure. I… I don’t know… well, what do you have in mind?”

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. His nervousness, the way he was still trying to keep control, made you feel a surge of affection for him, more intense than you expected.

Without answering, you took a step closer, keeping your gaze fixed on him. He seemed a little lost in you, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses, and you couldn’t resist. This time, when your lips met, it was different. There was no rush, no expectation, just a sweet kiss filled with affection that made everything around you disappear.

The kiss started light, but soon turned into something deeper, softer. As if, somehow, this gesture was the only thing that made sense. His tongue touching yours, lips moving in perfect harmony, every touch and movement making the world calmer, more certain.

When you finally pulled away, you were still so close that the air between you seemed charged with something new, something beginning to form.

Dave looked at you, his eyes brighter than before, and let out a nervous little laugh, his voice husky. “I… I liked that.”

“Me too,” you replied, smiling shyly. “But… what now?”

He hesitated for a second before running a hand over his face, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “Well… if you want, we can do this right. Like, in a place… without weird guys and comic book shelves in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling, a feeling of happiness spreading in your chest. “Oh, yeah? And where would this ‘place’ be?”

“Maybe a café? A movie? Or whatever you want. The point is… I want to see you again, outside the store. No weird stuff bothering you. Just the two of us.”

Your smile widened, and a wave of warmth filled your chest. Something inside you warmed with his words, with the sweetness he conveyed, the way he seemed to genuinely care, in such a simple and genuine way.

“I’d love that,” you said. “Can we set it up… for any day next week?”

Dave gave a shy smile, still with his hand on the back of his neck, like he was trying to keep control, but the smile couldn’t have been more sincere. “It’s a date. I’ll call you.”

You nodded, still smiling, and he looked so radiant at that moment that the world around you seemed brighter, easier to navigate.

[davelizewskiwife]

I have an idea! Reader and dave have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

Sleeping Spooning

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: Dave was so close it seemed impossible to believe you had started the night with all that space between you. His face was buried in your neck, his dark curls falling on your skin in a soft, almost lazy way. His arms were around you, one of them wrapped possessively around your waist, while your legs were intertwined in a way that seemed as though they were made for this.

Warnings: none

A/N: hi love, hope you can like it <333

Masterlist

You’ve known Dave for as long as you can remember. It’s hard to find a memory that doesn’t include him. Whether it was when you both were kids, sitting on the doorstep of his house, waiting for the ice cream truck to pass so you could find comfort on hot days, or when you got a telescope and spent nights searching for stars in the sky. Dave was always, always there.

But things started to change. Suddenly, the boy who was always slightly shorter than you started growing, to the point that you now had to look up to see him. And when you nudged him to get his attention, you could feel muscles under those nerdy graphic tees.

And, oh, his hands. It was concerning that you paid attention to that, but you couldn’t help it.

Not that you’d ever talked about feelings or anything like that. That definitely hadn’t happened, but you couldn’t stop imagining what would happen if it did. Your heart stumbled imagining Dave, your best friend, returning your feelings. But you wouldn’t dare reveal any of this.

Today, you’d asked Dave to stay over at your house, and although that might sound like the plot of a low-budget porno movie, there was absolutely nothing indecent about your request. Your parents had traveled, and you didn’t want to be home alone. Plus, it would be the perfect opportunity for you both to watch The Amazing Spider-Man (again)—you’d made sure to buy the DVD as soon as it hit stores.

When Dave arrived, you had everything ready: a cozy blanket on the couch, a dizzying amount of popcorn, and sugar-loaded candy. It didn’t take long for you two to sprawl out on the couch, the TV being the only source of light in the room.

“Andrew was born to be Spidey,” you sighed.

Dave, on the other side of the couch, furrowed his brow. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you answered without thinking. “I mean, I like Tobey, and it’s fun to see Bully Maguire in action, but Andrew is amazing,” you laughed at your silly pun. “And he’s cute,” the words left your mouth before you realized it.

“Cute, huh?” Dave asked, his tone playful, though there was something behind his words. “So you like brunettes?”

Your eyes quickly went to his hair. The dark curls falling gently across his forehead, and you wanted to run your fingers through them, feel if they were as soft as they looked. You closed your hands on your lap, smiling awkwardly before answering, “Maybe.”

The dim light didn’t allow you to see, but you knew his face had reddened. And you swore you saw the corner of his mouth curl into one of those crooked smiles you loved.

You both kept watching the movie, sporadic comments followed by muffled laughs so as not to interrupt the scene. It was easy to talk to Dave. It always had been. He made even the simplest moments feel special, and that night was no exception. The slight, almost imperceptible tension between you two seemed to be part of the natural chemistry that had always existed.

When the movie ended, the credits rolling on the screen in an endless cascade of names, you stretched, feeling your muscles complain after being in the same position for so long. “I think it’s late... we can go to my room,” you suggested, the words coming as naturally as any other request you’d ever made to him.

Dave hesitated for a second, something that didn’t go unnoticed. He looked away, adjusting his glasses that were slipping down his nose.

“Dave?” you called, your voice tinged with slight concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he answered quickly, but the way he messed with his hair gave away his nervousness.

“Dave,” you repeated, your tone now firmer, but with a touch of tenderness. “We’ve slept together before, remember? There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“I know,” he replied, letting out an awkward laugh as he put his hands in his pants pockets. “But, I don’t know... it’s different now.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Different? What did he mean by that? But you didn’t have the courage to ask. Instead, you simply nodded, trying not to get lost in the avalanche of thoughts that flooded your mind.

In your room, you turned on a lamp, casting a soft glow around the room. Dave stopped in the doorway for a moment, looking around as if it were the first time he’d been there—which, of course, wasn’t true. He looked a little lost, so you pointed to the bed with a calm smile.

“It’s just a bed, Dave,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I know,” he replied, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck showed that he wasn’t as relaxed as he was trying to appear.

As he moved closer, you adjusted the pillow on the left side of the bed, an automatic gesture that he observed with a small smile. You both lay down side by side, each occupying your own comfortable space. There was more than enough space between you, but... for just a moment, just for a moment, you wished it were a single bed. Just so he’d be closer.

The thought hit you like a shock, and you felt your cheeks burn. What was wrong with you? It was just Dave. Your Dave.

You turned to the other side, trying to push the thought away, but it was hard when you knew he was right there, so close, yet so far.

“Are you comfortable?” his voice broke the silence, soft and a little hoarse from the tiredness.

"Yeah," you replied quickly, turning to look at him. He was lying on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but you could see he was biting his lip, a nervous gesture he’d been doing since childhood.

"You?" you asked back.

He finally turned his head to you, his eyes meeting yours. In the soft light, the blue of his eyes seemed even deeper, like a sea you wanted to explore. "I am," he answered, but there was something more in the way he said it. Something that made your heart beat faster.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stayed there, staring at each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried a different energy, a sweet tension that made everything feel more intense.

You knew you should say something, break the mood before it went too far. But at the same time, part of you didn’t want that moment to end. So, you just smiled, a small smile, but full of meanings you hoped he would understand.

And Dave... He returned the smile. That crooked, charming smile that made your heart stumble, and you realized, once again, that he was your best friend. And, maybe, just maybe, he was something more.

The night was quiet, with only the soft wind tapping against the window. The sky was starting to show the first signs that the dawn was nearing its end, the dark blue tinged with an almost imperceptible gray. You slowly opened your eyes, feeling the comfort of the mattress, the blanket, and... something else.

That’s when you noticed.

Dave was so close it seemed impossible to believe you had started the night with all that space between you. His face was buried in your neck, his dark curls falling on your skin in a soft, almost lazy way. His arms were around you, one of them wrapped possessively around your waist, while your legs were intertwined in a way that seemed as though they were made for this.

Your heart immediately raced, but not out of fear or discomfort. It was something deeper, something that made your breath hitch and your face warm. With every exhale from Dave, his breath brushed against your skin, sending shivers up your spine that were almost impossible to ignore.

You tried to tell yourself not to move, not to do anything that could wake him, but that thought faded when your eyes landed on his hair, the dark strands tousled and falling over his forehead. Without even realizing it, your hand started to move, hesitant, until your fingers finally touched the curls. They were as soft as you imagined.

And that’s when you lost it. Your fingers gently curled into his hair, a delicate, almost reverent touch. You felt a small, involuntary smile form on your lips, your heart still beating out of rhythm as you absorbed every detail of that moment.

Dave murmured something incoherent, a muffled sound that seemed like a satisfied sigh. Before you could pull away, his arm around your waist tightened, pulling you closer. You held your breath, but didn’t have time to think because he let out a sound that was almost... a purr?

Your face became hot enough to melt any ice. He wasn’t fully awake—yet. He seemed caught between the dream world and reality, his expression calm and relaxed as he pressed his face closer to your neck, as if seeking even more contact.

“Dave,” you murmured softly, more to test your own voice than to call him.

That was enough. He moved again, his eyes blinking slowly as his consciousness finally started to arrive. His body gave a small jolt before freezing completely. You could feel when he realized.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and low, as if still half in the dream world. He started to pull away, but his arms seemed reluctant to let you go completely.

“Wait,” you said quickly, your hand still in his hair.

His eyes met yours for the first time. Even in the dim light, you could see the confusion and insecurity mixed with something softer, something more vulnerable.

“It’s okay,” you added, your voice so gentle it even surprised you. “You... can stay.”

Dave seemed to process your words for a moment, his mouth opening as if he wanted to protest, but giving up almost immediately. He relaxed, still embarrassed, but giving in to your touch, as if he didn’t have the strength to fight it—and maybe he didn’t want to.

“Sorry,” he murmured after a while, his face still close to yours.

“Why?” you asked, your fingers now gently stroking his hair almost unconsciously.

“For, I don’t know, invading your space,” he replied, his tone hesitant.

You chuckled softly, the sound gentle in the silence of the room. “Dave, you didn’t invade anything. It was nice...” The last word came out almost as a whisper, but you knew he heard it. His face turned redder than you thought possible, but still, he smiled. A small smile, but so genuine that it made something inside you warm even more.

The room remained submerged in quiet, only interrupted by the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional rustling of the blankets when either of you made a hesitant movement. Dave was still so close that you could feel the heat radiating from him, and the proximity felt both suffocating and comforting at the same time.

His eyes dropped for a moment, and you followed his gaze, realizing that he was paying attention to your breathing—or more specifically, to how your chest rose and fell against him. That’s when you noticed.

He was so close to your chest that it was impossible for him not to hear your heart hammering against your ribs.

“I can hear it,” he said quietly, his voice filled with surprise, but also with a gentleness that only he seemed capable of reaching.

"Listen to what?" you asked, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, his eyes rising again to meet yours. "Your heart."

The confession made something inside of you crumble and rebuild at the same time. The warmth that spread to your face was instant, but you tried to hide it, offering a small, nervous smile.

"That's kind of unfair, you know?" you murmured, your fingers still playing with his curls, even though a part of you was screaming to stop. "What can I do if I have a thing for brunettes?"

His jaw dropped slightly, and you saw his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red—something you didn't think was possible.

"You... talking about me?" The question came out hesitant, his vulnerability so evident that it made your chest tighten.

"No, about Andrew Garfield," you joked, trying to ease the tension, but your expression soon softened. "Of course, I'm talking about you, Dave."

He blinked a few times, as if he needed a second to process that, then let out a low, almost incredulous laugh. His forehead gently rested against your shoulder, and you felt him take a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own heart.

"You're going to kill me," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled but full of sweetness.

The smile that formed on your lips was automatic, and your hand slid from his curls to his face, your fingers gently caressing his warm cheek. He lifted his face slightly, his blue eyes meeting yours in a look that felt like a shared secret.

Neither of you seemed to want to move away. On the contrary, your bodies remained so close that you could feel every detail, from the texture of his T-shirt to the rhythm of his breathing, which seemed as out of sync as yours.

"Dave," you whispered, not really knowing what you wanted to say but feeling that you needed to say something.

"Mm?" His voice was low and husky, and he tilted his head slightly to the side as if he wanted to hear better.

"Are you going to stay?"

The question slipped out before you could stop it, and for a moment, you almost wished you could take the words back. But the way he looked at you—like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face—made the anxiety turn into something softer, more confident.

"I'm already here, aren't I?" He smiled crookedly, that smile of his, so typically him. "And, as far as I'm concerned... I'm not going anywhere."

The way he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, made your heart stumble again.

Without thinking, you let your forehead rest against his, your eyes closing for a brief moment. "Good," you murmured, the warmth of his face blending with yours. "Because I like having you here."

Dave stayed still for a moment, as if absorbing what you'd just said. You could feel his breathing slow a little, as if he were trying to control the storm inside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low whisper, full of emotion.

"I like being here... with you."

His words were simple but carried a weight that made your heart race even faster. He moved his forehead just enough to look directly into your eyes, their blue so soft and full of tenderness that it made your legs feel like jelly—even while lying down.

You didn’t respond right away, feeling like words weren’t necessary. Instead, your fingers slid gently from his face back to his curls, the light touch that made him sigh involuntarily. Dave closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked.

"You know your heart is racing again, right?" he commented, his voice soft but with that slightly playful tone you knew so well.

"And whose fault is that, huh?" you shot back, raising an eyebrow while trying to look serious, but the laugh that escaped his lips completely disarmed you.

"Me?" He pointed to himself, the smile widening as he pretended to be innocent. "I'm just a guy trying to sleep."

"A guy who makes me nervous," you corrected, feeling the warmth rise again to your face.

Dave tilted his head to the side as if pondering your words. Then, with the utmost casualness, he leaned in just enough to brush his nose lightly against yours, a touch so delicate it almost felt like a dream.

"Maybe because you make me nervous too," he confessed softly, the smile now smaller but even more sincere.

The confession made your breath falter, and before you could think too much, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. There was no room for hesitation in that moment; everything felt as natural as breathing.

"Good," you whispered, your heart racing once more. "Because I don’t want you to go anywhere."

He smiled, and the way his eyes shone in that moment was something you knew you would never forget.

"I don’t want to go either."

And as you both stayed there, tangled up in each other, the world seemed to disappear completely. Just the two of you, sharing a moment so simple, yet so full of meaning, that anything beyond that seemed unnecessary.

The last thought that crossed your mind before you closed your eyes again was that, for the first time, you felt everything was exactly as it should be—with Dave by your side.

[davelizewskiwife]

. . .DAVE LIZEWSKI SMUT FIC

.ೃ࿐mdni!~

pairings. Dave Lizewski x f!reader

·˚ ༘ sum. Eagerly, you prepare for Dave, your nerdy crush next door, to arrive for a so-called slumber party you invited him to—just the two of you. He has no idea what you truly have planned as you aim to make your attraction and desire clear. Being a huge show-off in your skimpiest pajamas, you intend to tease him to the edge, testing just how far he'll let you take him.

wc. 5k+

warnings. characters are 18+ (kick-ass 2), f!bimbo!rich!reader, same next-door neighbor concept, whiney!dave/sub!dave, handjob, lipstick marks, blowjob etc.

a/n. requested scenario! I kind of got tired of my own writing in the end, I hope I ended it well enough and didn't disappoint... Cant tell if I should've had more or less for the imagination.. ( I’m sorry if there isn’t enough bimbo qualities:[ )

You finish applying a final coat of your finest cherry-red lipstick, admiring the way it pops against your glossy skin. Cute, but tonight, you want more than that. You’re going for sexy—everything planned down to the last detail. It’s just you, Dave, and a pair of skimpy pajamas that hug your curves in all the right places.

Dave, the shy guy next door who can barely string two words together around you, has no idea what’s coming. You’ve been dropping hints for ages, practically begging him to notice, and tonight? Tonight he will. You give a twirl in front of the mirror, adjusting the barely-there straps of your top and checking the length of your shorts. Perfect.

You can already imagine his reaction when he walks in—wide-eyed, fumbling, confused. He’ll have no idea this isn’t just a casual hangout. You grin as you picture the snacks laid out, the movie queued up, but those are just distractions. The real fun is about to begin.

Glancing out your window, you can see his room from here. Earlier, you’d sent him a casual invite for a "slumber party." The moment he got the text, you watched him fumble for his phone, eyes widening in disbelief when he read it. You almost laughed as he sat there, stunned, like he couldn’t believe it. His nervous glances toward your window only confirmed how flustered he was. You’ve caught him sneaking looks more times than you can count, especially when you wear something low-cut.

It was cute, really—how he struggled to reply, his fingers trembling as he typed out, "Really? Me??" You teased him back with a quick "Duhh, just be here at 8;)" and grinned as you imagined how hard his heart must be racing.

The timer goes off, pulling you from your thoughts. The cookies are done, and you slip on an oven mitt to retrieve the tray. The snacks are ready, the lights are dimmed just right, and everything’s in place. You closed the curtains before getting ready, not wanting Dave to catch any sneak peeks. You smirk at the thought of his reaction when he finally sees you.

Just as you plate the cookies and pour some milk, the doorbell rings. He’s early... But of course he is. Grinning, you toss on your robe, leaving it loose enough to show a teasing hint of cleavage. With a deep breath, you head for the door.

Dave stands there, as wide-eyed as a doe in headlights. His gaze instantly drops to the neckline of your robe, lingering before he quickly looks away, his face flushing.

"Wow—I mean—hey," he stammers, trying and failing to hide his nerves.

You lean against the doorframe, enjoying the way he squirms under your gaze. "Someone got a little too excited to wait, huh?" you tease at how early he is, watching as his face turns even redder.

He stumbles over a response, flustered, but you cut him off with a laugh. "Just kidding, you're right on time." You motion for him to come inside, watching him fumble his way in as you smile.

After grabbing the cookies and milk, you walk by him with your hip brushing against his arm, sending him stumbling a little as you grin. "Wrong room, Dave," you tease, nodding toward the door to your bedroom.

His eyes widen, but he follows you, curiosity and nerves battling in his expression. As he steps into your room, his breath hitches. The soft, intimate lighting, the cozy setup—it’s all exactly as you planned. He’s overwhelmed, but you can tell he’s captivated.

You catch his gaze again, giving him a playful smile. He has no idea what’s coming, but you do, and it’s going to be fun.

Dave stands there for a moment, completely out of his element. The fancy setup of your place is nothing compared to the sight of you—his crush, the girl of his dreams—standing before him in an elegant yet revealing robe, holding a plate of cookies like it’s the most casual thing in the world. He can barely process it.

"You coming, or are you just gonna stand there gawking?" you tease, raising an eyebrow as you set the plate down on the coffee table. His face flushes again as he shuffles over to the couch, still in shock over his luck.

As he sits, he glances around, taking in the snacks, the dim lighting, and the way the room feels perfectly crafted for tonight. But he’s still unsure of what surprises you have planned.

You place the cookies and milk on the coffee table, feeling his eyes glued to you. Poor guy. He’s trying to keep it together, but you know exactly what you’re doing. With a casual shrug, you slip off your fluffy robe, letting it drop to the floor. No big deal, right?

Dave, on the other hand, looks like he just forgot how to breathe. His eyes widen, mouth hanging open as he stares at you in the skimpiest pajamas he’s ever seen. The way his face turns three shades redder is almost too cute. You can practically hear his brain short-circuiting, questioning whether this is real or just a wild fantasy.

You don’t give him time to process. Instead, you step right in front of him, bending just the right way—hips swaying, shorts barely covering anything—as you reach for the coffee table. You can almost hear his heart pounding as you lean forward, your butt practically in his face. Innocently, you pull out a fluffy blanket from the folding part of the table like this is all totally normal.

But Dave? He’s gone. He’s wide-eyed, probably trying to figure out if he’s still alive or slipped into the greatest dream of his life. It’s kind of adorable.

You straighten up, casually tossing the blanket onto the couch, acting like you didn’t just give him the best view of his life.

"You okay?" you ask innocently, sitting down beside him so close your legs brush against his. You flash him a playful smile, biting your lip. "You look a little flustered."

He swallows hard, trying to gather himself, but the sight of you so close in those pajamas has him overwhelmed. He shifts in his seat, clearly turned on, and you feel a thrill run through you, knowing just how much control you have over him.

Leaning back into the cushions, you feel the warmth radiating from Dave’s body. He’s still tense, shifting awkwardly beside you, and it’s adorable how nervous he is. With a soft smile, you reach for the lotion bottle on the coffee table, holding it up between you two.

“I have some lotion if you’d like to use it as an icebreaker,” you suggest casually, shaking the bottle. “You know, so you’re not as uncomfortable before we begin... watching the movie, I mean. And maybe so you could help a girl out?” Your eyes glint with playful mischief, knowing exactly what you’re doing.

His mouth falls open again, shock deepening. You can see the struggle in his eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, but then he nods, almost eagerly. His gaze flickers between the lotion and your skin, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. He’s dying to touch you, and the thought of rubbing lotion into your soft body pushes him closer to the edge.

You giggle softly at how eager he is, deciding to tease him further. “But first,” you say with a sly smile, setting the lotion aside, “how about you try one of my cookies?”

He snaps out of his daze, blinking rapidly as he watches you grab the plate of cookies. You pick one up and hand it to him, your fingers brushing against his for just a moment. His hand trembles slightly as he takes it, as if still in disbelief.

He takes a bite, brows raising as the flavor hits his tongue. “These are really good,” he says between bites, too quickly almost, desperate to impress you. He grabs another cookie, eating it just as fast and washing it down with a sip of milk. But as he pulls the glass away, a drop of milk slips from his lip and drips down his chin.

His hand shoots up to wipe it, but you’re quicker. You reach out, gently grabbing his wrist before he can do anything. His eyes dart to yours, wide and unsure, but you just smile, leaning closer.

“Don’t worry,” you murmur softly, your voice dropping to a sultry tone. “I got it.”

His breath hitches as you tilt his chin up slightly, your touch light yet electric. The moment stretches, his pulse quickening as your face inches closer to his. You can feel the tension building between you, thick and heavy. Slowly, you bring your lips to his chin, your tongue slipping out your mouth and tracing the milk spill with a slow, sensual glide. His lips part instinctively, breath shaky, and you stop just as your tongue grazes his bottom lip.

The sensation sends a shiver through him, and his entire body tenses. His disbelief is palpable—he’s trapped in the moment, unsure if he’s dreaming or if this is real. He can’t think, can’t breathe, his mind spiraling with lust and adrenaline, the taste of you lingering on his skin.

You pull back just slightly, locking eyes with him, and the longing on his face is unmistakable. His chest rises and falls heavily, and he looks like he’s on the verge of losing control completely. You bite your lip, suppressing another giggle, fully aware of the power you wield over him right now.

“See?” you whisper, brushing your thumb lightly across his chin. “No need to be shy.”

He swallows hard, still too stunned to speak, his gaze fixed on you, utterly captivated. Every little move you make pulls him deeper into your spell, his desire growing with every second.

“How about that lotion now, hmm?” you say, standing up with a graceful sway, your fingers trailing along the arm of the couch as you walk around him. You let your hand brush against Dave’s shoulder, just enough to send a shiver down his spine.

"You see, it’s tanning lotion," you continue, glancing back at him with a teasing smile. "So, I may have to shed off a layer... if you don’t mind." Your voice drops playfully, knowing his answer before he can even attempt to respond. For a moment, he’s speechless, thinking, ‘there's layers?’. He wouldn’t be surprised if your pajamas are really just undergarments.

You watch as he stands up, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides, eyes glued to you. You walk toward the body mirror near the bed, the lotion bottle in hand. With a graceful motion, you set it on the side table, then let your hands drift to the waistband of your shorts. His gaze follows you, utterly captivated, as you slide the shorts down, revealing the skimpiest, sexiest underwear he’s ever seen. His mouth parts slightly, shock mingling with growing desire.

Turning back to him with a knowing smirk, you relish his reaction. You slowly lift your tiny shirt over your head, keeping your back to him since you aren’t wearing a bra. As the shirt drops to the floor, you cover your chest with one arm, turning halfway to face him again. His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he stammers, words catching in his throat. His hands twitch nervously, unsure of how to respond.

You chuckle softly, reaching for the bottle of lotion. "Really, I just wanted some help rubbing this into my back..." Your voice is sweet and playful, laced with a hint of seduction. Finally, he steps toward you, instincts guiding him as he grabs the lotion from your hand. His fingers tremble slightly, the bottle almost slipping from his grasp, but he manages to steady it, pulse racing. As he squirts a little lotion into his hands, you turn your back to him, waiting.

Just as his hands glide slowly over your back, you lean in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “—and to feel your hands on me...” you add, words soft, leaving Dave unsure if he actually heard you or if it was just his imagination. He feels like he’s losing control, caught between the urge to act and being too stunned to move.

"Thank you, sweetheart," you say softly, breaking the tension and offering him a way out. Your voice is sweet with a teasing warmth that leaves him relieved yet even more unsure. His hands continue to rub lotion into your skin, each movement sending shivers through him as he feels alive and out of his depth.

You turn to face him, the heat of his hands still lingering on your back. Dave's eyes widen, breath catching as you hold your arm over your chest, a coy smile playing on your lips as you hand him the lotion again.

“I think it’s time you do my front,” you suggest, your voice dripping with playful innocence. His gaze flickers between your covered chest and bare stomach, unsure how to proceed, scared to be misreading something.

Biting your lip, you add, “Though... I guess I should probably drop my arm, huh?” The hint of sarcasm in your voice sends a jolt through him, and you can practically feel the tension radiating from him. His face turns a deeper shade of red, but his eyes remain locked on you, waiting—hoping.

Without waiting for an answer, you lower your arm, exposing yourself fully. His eyes widen, mouth parting in disbelief as his gaze roams over you, hungry yet hesitant. His hands hover awkwardly, clutching the lotion bottle as if it grounds him in reality. You let the moment stretch, watching him squirm as his desire builds.

“Go ahead,” you encourage softly, your voice smooth as silk. “Don’t be shy.”

His breath stutters at your words, and you can see him tense, trying to summon the courage to follow through. Slowly, tentatively, he squeezes lotion into his palm and reaches out.

When his palm finally makes contact with your stomach, you feel him tremble against you, his touch sending a shiver through your body. His eyes dart between your stomach and chest, the temptation almost too much for him.

Taking a deep breath, you arch your back slightly, guiding his touch higher. His breath hitches as his hands inch upward, skimming closer to your breasts, but he hesitates.

“You’re doing great,” you whisper, leaning in closer. “There’s no need to stop...”

He gulps, throat dry, and his hand finally reaches the curve of your chest. His fingers brush lightly over your skin, hesitating only a moment before moving higher, gently rubbing the lotion across your breasts with slow, reverent movements. You feel his fingers shake against you, the tension as palpable as the heat between you.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, ensuring he knows how much you’re enjoying this—encouraging him to keep going. Him gently squeezing your tits drive you wild, making you bite your lip to conceal any noises.

You meet his eyes and smile. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” you tease, lightly biting your lip with amusement. Though, it definitely is hard.

His mouth opens slightly as he breathes out a nervous "yeah," his gaze glued to his hand cupping your breasts, still in disbelief.

You watch Dave, captivated by the way his hands tremble on your body. His touch is tentative, filled with barely-contained lust, and you sense his restraint crumbling.

With a sultry smile, you step closer, leaning in so your lips are inches from his ear. Your breath ghosts across his skin, making him tense. "You’re doing so well," you whisper, your voice low and teasing, sending a shiver through him.

Without warning, you press a soft kiss against his neck, lingering for a moment before pulling back. A faint trace of lipstick marks his pale skin.

You kiss him again, this time just below his jawline, trailing up toward his ear and leaving streaks of red lipstick with each kiss. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, and you hear a faint whimper escape as he struggles to keep control.

He murmurs your name, and you pull back to meet his wild, hungry gaze. You bring your face close to his, lips hovering just a breath away, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. You hum in response to his name calling. His eyes dart between your lips and your eyes, the tension unbearable, trembling with anticipation.

But you’re not ready to give in just yet.

Your lips brush his, barely touching, and you feel his breath stutter as his lips part instinctively. You smile, pulling back just enough to keep him wanting, watching frustration flicker across his face. His eyes plead with you, desperate for the kiss he chases.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” you whisper, teasing.

He lets out a “Mhm,” his voice shaking slightly, sounding more like a plea than a response.

The sound of this alone drives you to conceal no longer, crashing your lips to his, hard—demanding. His reaction is instant—he kisses you back with a desperation that sends a rush of heat through you. His hands find your waist, gripping tightly as he leans into the kiss, his mouth hungry and unrestrained as he releases any hesitation he once held.

He whimpers into the kiss, sounds of need slipping past his lips as he tugs at your body, trying to pull you closer. His desperation only fuels your desire for him.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, you move your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. His skin is hot to the touch, chest rising and falling rapidly, wide eyes still locked on you, filled with disbelief and desire.

You grin at him, your lips smeared with lipstick. His lips, too, are stained red, your kiss making his mouth look deliciously messy and wild. You love the sight of him—completely undone by you.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you lean in again, pressing your lips to his collarbone, leaving another bold mark of red lipstick. He shivers under your touch, a soft whimper escaping his throat.

“Go ahead, Dave,” you whisper, your lips almost touching his. “Take off the rest.”

He hesitates for only a second before scrambling to obey, fumbling with his pants. Amused at his eagerness, you watch him as he hurriedly removes his clothes.

As soon as he’s free, you pull him into a deep kiss, this one even more heated. He kisses you like he’s starved for it, his hands roaming your body, pulling you closer. You can feel his desperation as he trembles with need, his whimpers and groans mixing with the sound of your lips moving together.

Your lipstick is smeared across both your mouths, marking him with evidence of your kiss. His lips are bright red, swollen from the kiss, and he pulls back slightly to kiss you again, frantically, desperately. He’s completely overwhelmed by the moment though wants no break.

As you separate, your lips slick and swollen, you catch Dave’s gaze. His chest heaves, breath shaky and uneven, his eyes glued to your chest, unable to look away. Lust and uncertainty flicker in his eyes as he stares at your breasts, mesmerized by their movement with each shallow breath. You can’t help but smirk at his fixation.

Noticing his tension, you slide your hand down, grazing over his stomach until your fingers brush against the bulge in his boxers. His eyes remain locked on your chest, as if memorizing every curve of your skin.

He gasps, body jerking at your touch, clearly affected by the sight of you pressing against him. The heat radiates off him, his arousal unmistakable. His breath hitches again when you give a light, teasing squeeze through the fabric.

“Do you want this?” you whisper, your voice soft and sweet, fully aware of his answer. His eyes finally meet yours, wide and filled with a mix of desire and disbelief, but soon return to your chest, watching its subtle rise and fall. He swallows hard, too overwhelmed to speak.

Instead, he nods.

You lean in closer, your breasts brushing against his chest, and you feel his sharp intake of breath. You know how much he craves to touch you, his gaze unwavering as you whisper in his ear, “These too,” tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

His breath stutters, and for a moment, he hesitates, unsure if this is real. But his eyes dart back to your chest, desire overpowering his hesitation. With trembling hands, he obeys and pulls down his boxers, exposing himself to you.

Without wasting a moment, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the heat of his arousal. You don’t look down as you spit, landing impressively on target. His eyes, however, remain locked on your breasts as you begin to stroke him slowly. He gasps, breath coming in ragged bursts that drive your desire higher.

His body tenses as you stroke him deliberately. You watch his reactions—the way his head tilts back and his lips part with shaky moans—while he steals glances at your chest, unable to resist.

You quicken the pace slightly, teasing him further as his hips twitch in response. His whimpers grow louder, a struggle between holding back and the sight of your soft curves.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you lower yourself, lips grazing his length while your hand continues to work him. He lets out a soft cry, transfixed as your breasts sway with every movement. His breath comes in ragged moans, each sound mixed with murmurs of appreciation.

But just as he gets too close, you pull back, leaving him throbbing and on the edge. His eyes widen in disbelief, but before he can protest, you grab him by the waist, taking a few steps back and throwing him onto the couch. He lands with a soft thud, eyes wide as he stares up at you, still processing the moment. His chest heaves, skin flushed, and his erection stands tall, aching for more as he crawls back on the cushion.

You crawl onto the couch, straddling his waist, your body hovering just above his. He’s completely mesmerized by the sight of you—your curves, confident movements, and your breasts inches from his face. His hands instinctively reach out, but you grab his wrists, pinning them against the couch as you lean in close, your face just inches from his.

Your lips brush against his, close enough for him to almost taste you, but you stop just before they meet, teasing him with delicious tension. His body trembles beneath you, lips parted in anticipation, raw hunger in his eyes.

"Is this what you wanted?" you whisper, sultry and breathy, grinding your hips lightly against him, feeling his hardness beneath you. He responds with a soft moan, struggling under your grip to pull you closer, but you relish the control.

Finally, you close the gap, pressing your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. This time, he kisses you back with a desperation you’ve never felt from him—hungry and full of desire. His hands break free, sliding up your body to grab your breasts with reverence, revealing just how much he’s craved this moment.

You pull away slightly to see the awe on his face as his fingers tremble against your softness. He moans, breath shaky, eyes locked on your chest as he mutters, "I’ve wanted this... so badly..."

His desperation sends a thrill through you. "Say it," you whisper, leaning in close, your breath hot against his skin. "Tell me what you want."

He whimpers before forcing a response, shy as you straddle him. His gaze flicks back to your chest as he mutters, "This... this is what I wanted."

You hum. "Really? Well, I wanted more."

With a teasing grin, you guide him to your entrance to emphasize your point, feeling him twitch beneath you. You hover over him, letting anticipation build, watching his face contort with desperation. His hands grip your hips tightly, knuckles white as he waits for you to make the move.

"Relax, Dave," you whisper, your voice soft yet commanding as you lower yourself slowly onto him, inch by agonizing inch. He gasps, body tensing beneath you as you envelop him. His head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed as he processes the overwhelming sensation of being inside you.

You can feel every tremble in his body as you settle fully against him. He lets out a strangled moan, chest rising and falling rapidly, struggling to breathe. You can’t help but smirk at the effect you have on him.

"You feel that?" you murmur, brushing your lips against his ear as you start to move, grinding in slow, deliberate circles. "You're all mine now." You breathe harshly, moaning right into his ear on purpose with every move.

He responds with a breathless whimper, hands moving restlessly along your thighs as his hips instinctively buck upward to meet your movements. You keep the pace slow at first, savoring your control and relishing how his body reacts to every roll of your hips.

As the heat between you grows unbearable, you quicken your movements, feeling his desperation radiate off him. His hands grasp at you, trying to pull you closer, deeper, his voice a series of ragged moans and gasps. “Fuck—shit—“ he whispers breathlessly.

Leaning down, you capture his lips in another heated kiss. His mouth moves against yours with wild urgency, lips still smeared with your lipstick, the red marks staining his skin in messy streaks. His hands slide up your back, clutching you tightly, as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

As the pleasure builds, you feel his body tensing, breathing more erratic as he nears the edge. But you’re not ready to let him have it yet. Slowing your movements, you tease him with a soft smile, loving the vibrations and sounds leaving his mouth into yours.

"Not yet," you whisper, pulling back just enough to break the kiss, your lips hovering close to his. "I want to hear you beg for it."

His eyes snap open, wide with lust, lips parted as if to protest. But the need in him is too strong. He groans, head falling back against the couch arm, hands gripping your waist tighter.

"Please," he rasps, shaky and breathless. "Please, I can't... I need..."

You grin at his pleading, knowing you have him exactly where you want him. You begin to move again, faster this time, watching his body react beneath you, feeling the tension coil tighter inside both of you.

His body trembles, hands frantically clutching at your skin, trying to hold on to the last bits of control he has.

But he can’t hold on for long, and neither can you.

"God, you feel so good..." he groans, voice muffled against your lips, raw desperation evident in his tone.

And that’s when you finally let him go.

Your hips move faster, grinding against him in a wild rhythm. His moans grow louder, more desperate, fingers digging into your skin as he loses control.

"Cum for me," you whisper into his ear, voice low and full of heat—despite your own moans slipping out. "I want to feel it." A whimper escapes your lips causing your words to trail off, clearly in a state of desperation as well.

It’s all he needs.

With one last thrust, his body tenses beneath you, letting out a guttural moan as he reaches his peak. You feel him pulse inside you, hips jerking as pleasure overtakes him, and the sensation sends you spiraling into your own release. The both of your loud messy moans sound pornographic, the look of you two probably as well.

The world fades away as pleasure consumes you both, your bodies moving together in a desperate rhythm until you collapse, breathless and trembling, completely spent.

As you slowly lift yourself off him, Dave’s body twitches, still sensitive from the intensity of what just happened. His breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling unevenly. When you slide him out, he lets out a shaky, breathy groan, eyes fluttering closed.

You collapse onto his chest, legs trembling from exertion, and he instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The weight of your body on his is comforting, grounding him after the whirlwind of sensations.

For a few moments, the room is filled with the sound of your shared breaths, both of you catching your breath, skin slick with sweat. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it gradually slows down.

Dave’s big arms tighten around you as he struggles to find words, still in disbelief over what just happened. He opens his mouth to speak but only manages a breathless, “Shit...” followed by a soft laugh, as if he can't quite believe it.

You smile against his chest, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart, the closeness soothing. “Yeah,” you murmur, your voice soft, almost a purr, still catching your breath. “Shit…” you agree, curling into him, letting your hand lazily trace patterns on his chest.

His hand gently brushes your hair back, a little shy and tentative as if unsure how to handle this new intimacy. "Are you... okay?" he asks softly, glancing down at you in awe.

You giggle, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. "I’m more than okay," you reply with a wink, reassuring him as your fingers stroke his neck gently. Your pussy is still desperately pulsing, but you feel great. "You were amazing." You breathe, honestly in shock with how well he touched you and moved inside you—completely unexpected.

Dave’s face flushes at the compliment, his gaze dropping to the rise and fall of your body against his. He looks entranced, especially by your breasts pressing against him, and can’t help but let his eyes wander over your form with a dreamy smile.

The two of you lay there, soaking in the aftermath, your bodies tangled in intimate silence. He holds you close, fingers tracing up and down your back, relaxing further as the tension eases.

After a long pause, you tilt your head up to look at him, a soft smile on your lips. “Still nervous?” you ask teasingly, fingers grazing over his collarbone. He laughs softly, nodding his head but speaks otherwise. “Less,” he admits, his voice tender, admiration clear in his gaze.

As you lay together, Dave seems content, his body relaxed and breath steady. But as you rest your head on his chest, a mischievous smile plays on your lips.

While he savors the moment, feeling blissfully spent, your mind races with thoughts of what you want to do to him next—new ways to tease, tempt, and push him further... The night far from over in your eyes.

[davelizewskiwife]

Dave Lizewski relationship and intimacy hcs

wc: 1.1k

genre: smut

pairing: dave x afab reader

warnings: subby dave, minor dacryphilia/dave crying, dave is both a simp and a munch for you, lot lot lot of grinding, oral (reader recieving), quickies, metric fuckton of begging whining and whimpering

a/n: I need a dave right tf now.

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280

As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+

With that being said, let’s get the fuck into it 

Because Dave is such a chronic hornball

First and foremost

Dave loves making out with you

He will absolutely start humping your thigh within minutes

95% of the time he’s going to be a total subby wreck for you

So wield this power wisely 

You tell him to bark and he will

He is wrapped your little finger so fucking tight

He is the epitome of a whipped boyfriend

Someone replied to one of my Dave drabbles calling him a munch over and over and yeah

Yeah he’s a much

An irreversible simp

A stage 4 clinger if you will

For real though Dave thinks you’re the hottest fucking person to ever exist

And not only are you in his real life

But you know he exists???

And you actually want him??????? 

He doesn’t get it

Todd doesn’t either

Or Marty

Or anyone really 

But you do

You want him a lot

Once he has that boyfriend material scent on him, you’ll need to start fighting off all the girls who used to ignore him

Dave has no idea what’s going on

To him it just sounds like you two complimenting each other for a minute before you drag him away

(At some point you explain that those types of compliments are basically secret code and there is war waging between you, like when Ashley told you you “rock a lot of polka dots”. He doesn’t really get it but he’s still supportive of you.) 

But when you drag him away it’s usually into some closet or quiet little spot to makeout with him

And if I’m being honest, making out will turn into quickies every time you can possibly get away with it

Dave is really easy to condition

So now when girls come up and talk to either of you, you notice him start to get all squirmy and excited

And now the perfect opportunity has presented itself to you

Now you get to tease the living shit out of him

You get to make him squirm even more by running your hand up and down his arm or sitting on his lap and shifting around while he tries to suppress his pretty whimpers and whines and hide his raging boner

Dave is packing by the way

He’s a classic nerd boy with a huge dick who doesn’t know what to do with it

Luckily for him, you do know what to do with it 

He’s really fucking loud too

It’s totally unintentional, but GOD you will have him whining and moaning and babbling out incomprehensible words that just turns into begging 

And it sounds so nice to hear 

It really is one of your favorite sounds 

Dave is really really into overstimulation by the way

Like he’s spent so long dreaming about being exactly where he is right now

Slotted between your legs while you squeeze around his cock with a mouthful of tiddy 

That it almost doesn’t matter how many times both of you have cum

He’s going to want to keep going

Dave will go down on you for hours

He won’t stop until you finally manage to push his head away for the millionth time

All the other times you did he started begging you so sweetly 

“Please,” his voice cracks and desperate tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes, “please let me touch you, just a little more. I’ll be good, I promise…” 

And how can you say no to that?????

His eyes are glazed over and he’s so drunk on you that you don’t stand a chance 

He’s already made himself cum so many times just from eating you out like this

Like there’s literally a puddle of cum pooling in his jeans or on your sheets or wherever

Remember that drabble about Dave needing to get himself off while eating you out??????? 

It’s still completely true

He’ll jerk himself off or hump whatever he can while he makes out with your sticky sweet cunt

It’s so warm and wet, so soft and squishy that he can’t get enough

Yk that tiktok trend of people describing their s/os like rescue dogs?? like “oh this one is really nervous and has attachment issues are you sure you want them?” “yes I do” then cute footage of their s/o

And how some people kept describing their boyfriends as “are you sure you want this one?? he humps a lot”

Like this

OR that audio from that doggy daycare that was like “he’s overstimulated and he’s a real humper. he’s humping everything in sight.” 

…

that’s Dave

I hate to be the one to break this news to you but Dave will start grinding against you or humping your leg or palming himself if you so much as kiss him

sometimes he just looks at you and gets hard

like he gets hard and needy really fucking easily

which of course leads to more whimpering and whining and begging you to take care of him

which is just music to your fucking ears

he has literally never been more excited in his life than whenever you push him onto the nearest flat surface 

and you both discover very quickly how much he loves when you take control 

emphasis on the subby wreck for you thing

because he is

he’s a whiny desperate subby mess just for you

you were undoubtedly his first time 

and he got so fucking attached to you after that

like you’re so welded into his brain chemistry that he can’t be with anyone else

he’s mated to you for life

he’s completely and totally yours

whatever you want, he’ll do

you can walk him like a fuckin dog and he’ll love every minute of it

he just wants your attention

and maybe some hand stuff

on the rare occasions you have to be apart, he’ll douse his pillows in your perfume or body spray or whatever and spend the whole night cuddling it and smelling it

and quickly end up grinding against it

chances are if he can, he’ll call you so you can talk him through it

because even if he can’t be near you, he still needs you

he needs you so so badly all the time

and you’re always there

you’re always there to kiss him and pull his hair and tell him what to do

and hold his hand and patch him up after a fight and tell him to be careful

you’re so far beyond the complete package

he has no idea how in the world he got you

he just knows he never ever ever wants to be without you

[davelizewskiwife]

common factor - dave lizewski x reader

gender not explicitly mentioned but dave calls reader "ladybug"

synopsis: after getting stood up, you seek out the one person who makes everything better

word count: 1517

a/n: recently watched kick-ass and omg atj is so cute. inspired by the scene in kick-ass 2 when mindy goes to dave after getting date ditched.

Tonight was slowly becoming a disaster. It had already been a mediocre week at school. So, when a nice boy with blue eyes asked you out, you were eager to say yes.

And so, you stood alone in front of the movies on a chilly Thursday evening as you waited for your date. You knew you had the right time and place. You had checked Ben's message multiple times. But still, you waited for five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty.

You called it quits after thirty-four minutes.

As you begin your walk of shame, you don't yearn for your home or bed. You don't think of anything that would usually provide you comfort. Right now, all you want is your best friend.

So, you make your way over to his place. It had been a while since you climbed up to his window, but you still remember the spots to step and hold on to. Mr Lizewski was rarely ever strict enough to require sneaking around. But it was too late to knock, so the window it was.

You land softly on the floor inside. Dave sleeps soundly in his bed, the light from the street gently illuminating his face. He looks so peaceful that you begin to feel bad for waking him. But your need for comfort overrides your guilt.

"Dave?" you call out, loud enough to wake him.

Dave awakens slowly, blinking in the dimness. His eyes find yours, and he jolts upright.

"Holy shit," he mutters, reaching over to turn on the lamp. "What are you doing here?"

You take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry for waking you. I just really needed to see you."

He sits up, immediately concerned. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen with Ben?"

You had told him about the date, of course. He was happy for you. Dave is always happy for you.

"He stood me up," you tell him.

Dave's eyes soften, and he pulls you in for a hug. You melt in his embrace, unable to stop the stray tears that fall from your eyes.

"Oh, bug. I'm so sorry. He's such an ass," Dave says softly, rubbing your back.

"I think there's something wrong with me," you say as you pull away.

He furrows his brow. "What? That is not true. How could you say that?"

You shake your head. "No, you don't understand. I'm-"

I'm in love with you, is you want to say.

You want to tell him you only agreed to go out with Ben because his eyes reminded you of Dave's. That's the only reason you paid attention to anyone lately. Alex with the hair, James with the smile and Ben with the eyes. If you broke them all down, Dave would be the common factor.

But the words refuse to come out. So, instead, you say, "I'm hopeless."

"You're not hopeless," Dave reassures.

"Then why does this keep happening?" you ask.

Dave's hands take yours. "It's not you. It's them, okay? They're all jerks. And you know what? I'm glad Ben didn't show. Because you're too good for him, ladybug."

You frown, unsure how to respond to that. You look down at your hands, at how they fit in his.

Dave takes this opportunity to continue, "I mean it. You're so sweet and kind and funny. He doesn't deserve a second of your time, much less your tears."

"I know, you're right," you say. "I guess I just... wanted to be liked."

Dave nods in understanding, "You are, though. You're loved. You don't need Ben to prove that."

His words manage to make you smile a little bit. You nod in response, knowing he's right again.

"Why don't you stay over for the night?" Dave suggests. "I can get you some clothes to sleep in."

"Yeah," you reply. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Dave smiles. "Perfect. You stay right here."

Dave gives you a spare shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts you forgot once during a sleepover. After a quick shower, you get changed and take a moment to compose yourself, not wanting to shed any more tears.

Meanwhile, Dave waits for you in bed. He felt as if his heart could break. You looked so beautiful tonight. You should be out being admired and doted on. But instead, you were left in tears. Dave starts considering putting on his Kick-Ass suit and teaching Ben a lesson.

However, his plans don't go much further before you return from the bathroom. You tiptoe over to the bed, and Dave lifts the covers up for you. You slip in beside him, instantly comforted by the soft sheets and the subtle scent that lingers on them.

You and Dave lie facing each other, the setting familiar and cozy. He reaches forward to play with your hair, brushing his fingers from the top of your head to behind your ear. The repetitive motion soothes you.

"I don't want to see Ben tomorrow," you tell him.

He nods. "I'll stick with you as much as I can. I won't let him bother you."

"I don't know how people do it," you say. "All this dating and relationships, especially in high school."

"I couldn't tell you," he answers. "My one and only girlfriend publicly broke up with me and told me she cheated on me at the same time."

You cringe at the reminder. You remember when Dave started dating Katie. He had such a big crush on her, and you tried your best to be supportive. You tried not to hate her. You were glad when she did something worthy of your resentment.

"God, that was horrible," you say.

"Yeah. Maybe we're both cursed with bad luck," Dave replies.

You frown. "I thought ladybugs are supposed to be lucky."

Dave chuckles at your statement, taking a moment to think. "You're right. Maybe the universe is doing us a favour by showing us we don't need them. You know you'll always matter more to me than some random girl."

"That won't always be true," you say quietly.

"Sure it will, bug," he replies. "It's me and you forever, remember?"

His words make you want to shrivel up under the covers. They take you back to the old days when you and Dave had not a single care in the world.

"Yeah, I remember," you mumble.

Dave smiles. "Good. Don't you forget it."

You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes for a moment. You never expected this night to be so emotionally taxing. A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you try to ground yourself.

"Hey," Dave speaks up after a while. "How about I take you out this weekend?"

You open your eyes again, slightly surprised. How about I take you out? You wonder if he phrased it like that on purpose.

"You don't have to," you tell him.

"I want to," he says. "It's been a while since we did something without Todd or Marty. Maybe we can see the new Avengers movie. I know you have a crush on Thor."

You glare at him, feigning offence. "I do not have a crush on Thor."

He grins. "Aw, come on. You can tell me the truth. Though, I'll have to try very hard not to be jealous."

You whack him on the arm, and he laughs.

"Okay, kidding," he says, "But seriously, we can do that. Or watch something else. Or do anything, really."

The ideal appeals to you more than you care to admit. You nod, "I'd like that a lot."

He smiles. "Great. It'll be my treat. We'll have the best time, I promise."

You smile back. "Thanks, Dave."

"Don't mention it," he replies. "Now, go to sleep. Let that pretty head of yours rest."

You do as he says, closing your eyes again. You scoot closer to him, and he wraps an arm around your waist. He kisses you gently on the top of your head, and you can't help but smile.

"Goodnight, Davey," you murmur.

"Goodnight, ladybug," he responds.

An unpleasant beeping wakes you in the morning. It takes a moment for your sleep-addled brain to make sense of everything. You notice you're warm, incredibly warm. You realise it's because Dave's chest is against your back, his arms secure around your body.

You feel as if you could be a puddle right now. It's all so perfect, except for that beeping. It's Dave's alarm. Of course. You forgot it was still a school day.

Dave shifts behind you, and his warmth leaves you as he rolls away. You miss it immediately but aren't awake enough to do anything about it. There's the sound of fumbling before the beeping finally stops. Not a moment sooner, Dave returns, wrapping his arms around you again and holding you tighter than before.

He nuzzles his face against your neck, letting out a deep breath that tickles your skin. It's almost enchanting how quickly sleep calls for you again. Dave doesn't say a word, but it's clear you both agree that school can wait five more minutes.

➸