#Dave y

[ozarkthedog]

holy shit... i've no words. dave is fucking dastardly.

dirty laundry ༄ dave york one shot (18+)

-> pairing: dark dave york x female reader

-> word count: 2.8k

-> summary: it’s a hot august week at the york’s lake house, which also happens to be the week you and your husband got married one year ago. your father in law — dave york — finds you changing in the laundry room and decides to give you a celebration of his own.

-> warnings/tags: father-in-law dave york, infidelity, dubcon, NON-CON, age gap (reader is 21, dave is nearing 50), SMUT 18+, heavy degradation(whore, slut, bitch), humiliation, dumbification, unprotected piv, sir kink, rough face-fucking, forced creampie, talk of pregnancy, reader is under the impression that she endures forced impregnation, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, semi naive reader, dave is not a cutesy nice man in this.. he honestly has no concern for readers feelings or pleasure. so please, if themes like dubious consent + non-con + blatant cheating are not ur forte, protect ur peace and scroll away!!

-> a/n: okay okay hiiiii. when i decided to participate in @hellishjoel ‘s #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i had a few ideas in mind. one happened to be this! but i felt more comfortable writing for joel and was confident in what i had planned. basically, this is opposite of that. no fluff or happy ending.. or even happy anything. so i wanted to share! thanks again kylee for letting me participate <3 and thank you to my beloved dearest @sweetpascal for aiding me yet again, i love u 🤍

let me know your thoughts!

DARK CONTENT BELOW: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

A huge part of growth, means acknowledging your mistakes.

When you failed your first semester of college, you knew it was from lack of trying and partying six days a week. So, you studied more and partied four days a week instead. When you slammed your brand new Mercedes into a flag pole, you knew it was from scrolling on Instagram which caused you to push accelerate rather than stop. So, you never went on your phone while driving again.

When you fell in love your sophomore year and decided to get married at twenty, you knew it was because you needed the well-off grad school bachelor, Daniel York. So, inadvertently, you settled. Now, a year later, you're sobbing in his family’s lake house bathroom because he somehow forgot that tonight was the eve of your wedding anniversary.

You feel like a complete and utter idiot. And for once in your life, you just might be. Staring at your reflection, you examine your appearance. You look effortlessly amazing today, after spending the day out on the boat. Hair, body and face all faintly sun-kissed. Your skin freshly shaved, legs and arms lathered in your favorite oil.

This was your final attempt to see if Daniel would stare at you with the same look of admiration he had so long ago. Your first attempt to ask him about starting your own family. Tonight was the night, and you were determined.

Briefly peeking out of the guest bathroom and down the hall, you decide you can rush into the laundry room only a few doors down. Everyone should seemly be downstairs, finishing up a game of Monopoly. You had the pleasure of winning two games in a row, pissing of the frightfully competitive York family. That’s when you decided to call it a night and head up to get ready for bed — bidding everyone a goodbye as you kissed your husband atop his head.

Wrapping your robe securely around your waist, you make your way towards the closed door and enter just as the dryer sings the most obnoxious 45 second tune that confirms the load is finished. Rich people shit, you mutter to yourself. Grabbing your bikini and sundress to hang up first, then laying out a sheer white silk sleeping dress with baby blue lace trim.

Looking back at the closed door, you conclude you should be fine to just throw it on before laying yourself out on your shared bed. Ready for your husband to see you so open and willing to be used by him. As your robe falls to your feet, a slight creek fills the silent space.

Whipping your head back and grabbing the nearest towel to cover yourself, you're met with an alluring glare from your husbands own dad. Your father-in-law, Dave York.

"Dave wha- what are you doing?" You question with a panic laced tone. Completely thrown off by the way he's leaning against the now locked door, hands in his wrinkle-free perfectly fitted black work slacks. His lack of response is louder than the faint trickle from the utility sink your bare-ass is pressed against.

Dave saunters over to you, his pristinely polished shoes clinking heavily with every step despite the minimal weight he's using. It's a commanding presence, shows how he doesn't have to storm over to establish authority. His handsome body towers over you and the faint hairs on your spine rapidly rise at the feeling of his warmth nearing your own naked body. Aside from the small washcloth that covers your crotch and arm across your heavy tits.

His veiny calloused wedding ring-wearing hand reaches next to you, finding the lace on your nightgown satisfyingly soft.

"Look at this, angel. Did you plan on wearing it for my inconsiderate son?" He remarks, looking into your wide eyes as his fingers continue to twist and feel at a piece of clothing that is filling you with an overbearing amount of embarrassment.

"I d- you weren't supposed to see that." The nervous confession brings a crooked grin to Dave's face.

"It's real pretty, just like you. Sexy even.... but I wouldn't waste my time putting something like this on for Daniel." Shaking his head at your frazzled state and utilizing that dismissive tone he does so well.

"W-why?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance at your innocent unknowing voice, Dave reaches a hand to slowly move your arm that's covering your plush chest. "Because, he left 10 minutes ago. Waved bye to me as I pulled into the driveway."

Now you're really fucking confused. Your husband never goes off without texting you to let you know, and why would he leave you alone at his parents home? Especially on the night prior to your anniversary.

"I don't understand. Did he tell you where he was going?" You probe at him, not processing the way his rough fingertips are skimming over your navel, up across your chest. Suddenly, you yelp as he pinches your pebbled nipple and grips under your adjacent perky breast. Your hand quickly grabs at his wrist, but he slaps it away — holding it at your waist.

"You really have nothing going on in that head of yours, huh? Just floating around being the perfect little wife for my son, is that right? Too stupid and blind to see that your husband cheats on you every living moment and only married you because you're nothing more than a sweet voice who’s gentle on the eyes." His painful out-of-pocket words paired with the twisting of your nipples has heavy tears brimming at your lashes. "Kind of him to make sure you're gentle on his old mans eyes too.... we always did share a type."

"Fuck you," you spit at him. You've never dared be rude to Dave, or anyone for that matter. But his condescending temper, sudden violations to your privacy paired with the already upsetting feelings you've been enduring today was a breaking point. As you rip your hand from his grasp prepared to rush out of the room, he grabs your throat in a vice grip. Landing a brutal smack on your cheek that causes your head to turn from the impact, just for him to use that same hand to yank your hair back to a straight position. Body now pressed against your own — you feel the washcloth protecting your femininity drop at your bare feet in terror.

"Hmm. Never heard you cuss before, sweetheart. Thought I taught my son to train his wife better than that."

A heavy tear streams down your now red swollen cheek, as you take in the hurtful message your father in law is clarifying. You're nothing but a piece of fuck meat, a trophy wife. But clearly not honored enough for your husband to use you. Humiliatingly, the way Dave's clothed body is up against your own, has your exposed cunt throbbing and leaking down your legs for him. You were good enough for Dave York, and that was an honor within itself.

"'M sorry," you murmur at the feel of his covered thigh spreading your leg and nudging into your soaked pussy.

Dave chuckles at your nearly cock drunk state, "haven't even touched you and your leaking on my dress pants. No wonder he keeps you around, you're just a perfect little slut willing to please."

"Y- yeaah," you sigh lightly humping his thigh, even though Dave didn't even ask a question. Something within you just wanted him to understand your body was his to use, despite both your sacred dedications to other partners. People so close to you. His son, your husband. Your mother-in-law, his wife.

He swiftly moves his thigh from between your legs, pinching your cheeks so they're puckered willing you to look at him with those glossed over doe-eyes he fucking leaks over. "Use that head and address me properly."

Your head swarms for a second, worried of his reaction to an incorrect title. Testing the waters, you whine, "yes, sir." The words muffled by the tight hold he has on your face.

With a sinister grin on his face, Dave pushes you down on the solid tile — hand still threaded through your hair to ensure your head movement is in his control.

"Look at that, your brain does work. Let's see about that mouth."

Yanking the zipper down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out and slaps it on your cheek, precum smearing slightly. As you eye his cock, you come to the realization that he's slightly bigger than his son at half mast, and you're gonna have to calm yourself to handle a monster like that.

"Are you gonna show me how good you take a cock down your throat? With those dick-sucking porn worthy lips?" Dave peers down at you. He has started to jerk himself to full length, his thumbs barely touching around his width.

"Yes, sir. I am."

The way your eyelids flutter up at him, so docile and unaware of just how vicious Dave intends to be on your needy body. It unlocks that fundamental primal male urge that he normally suppresses during sex.

"Open your mouth, bitch." As your tongue lolls out of your mouth obediently, a dribble of spit going down your chin to your neck to your tits gleams in the soft light. Dave grins as he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, touching at your sensitive uvula. You instantly attempt suppressing your rare gag reflex, body unprepared for his actions. "Nice job, knew you were meant to have your mouth filled."

Dave rips his fingers from you and smears the thick string of saliva across your face — slapping you across the face, rather gentle than before. As he grabs his cock and lines it up with your mouth, you inhale deeply. Seemly more aware of how Dave likes to be. Callous, straight-forward and dominant.

Before you can suck him into your mouth, Dave spits right on his cock — some of it landing on your moisturized lips — just to slam himself down your throat. Your eyes spring open looking up at him, polished hands gripping at his slack-covered thighs. You feel your left over slick on his right pant leg. The taste of his long day is heavy on your tongue as his balls nuzzle at your chin. You're overwhelmed with his scent. The hair at the base of his cock tickles your nose, stud piercing almost getting caught.

"Riiiight there, that's fucking it. What a real fucking whore."

Dave lets his head fall backwards, eyes on the ceiling as he feels you sputter around him, your spit dripping heavily down his balls and onto the tile between his legs. He's unsure on how long he looks upwards, until he feels the digging of your fingertips into him. When he looks down, your eyes are bulging — about to roll into the back of your skull. So he pulls off of you.

Your belligerent cough is almost too loud for comfort, so Dave jerks his cock and plops his full balls into your mouth. And like the eager girl you are, you suck them into your mouth. Licking at the seam between them, letting them bounce off of your tongue. You lick downwards, tonguing at his delicate perineum. That small but dirty act makes him groan loudly. Loud enough for someone on the second floor to hear.

Realizing he's getting too comfortable, he goes back to filling your mouth. Alternating between shallow fucking of the throat and just letting it bulge inside. His big hands wrapping around your neck to jerk himself through the thin hump of protruding skin.

When he hears the shrewd screech of his name from the mouth of his wife downstairs, he pulls out swiftly and yanks you up, hoisting your leg onto the counter. Prodding his cock head at your now unbelievably soaked entrance.

Your mind is hazy and disorientated concerning what's about to happen. You feel like you've barely had any time to process the fact that your father in law is treating you like a common street whore. So, when he pushes into you, a wailing shriek escapes you.

Dave slaps his heavy hand around your mouth from behind, pushing in balls deep but not before releasing a moan of his own.

"Better shut that mouth before I stuff something in there... good god. How is that cunt so damn tight? You're snug around me, guess you're not a slut after all. Tight pussy but loose throat, just how I like it."

Dave proceeds with his relentless thrusts into your aching cunt. You don't remember the last time you were filled so thoroughly. It makes you forget how fucked up this situation truthfully is.

As Dave's cock is slamming into your cervix over and over, you feel your lower stomach tightening. He feels it too. Dave has been holding in his orgasm since you first fell to your knees and gave him those fuck toy eyes. So before you can cum all over him, he grabs you by the neck from the front and puts your ear right by his mouth so he can relay his special message.

"My son told me you've been begging him for a baby... how sweet. You just wanna be a mama, huh? Or maybe, you think having one will fix your relationship. Just reminds me how stupid you are. If a kid could save a marriage, my wife and I would've been happy ever since she pushed that little shit out. But, I'm gonna make it even better for you, sweetheart...."

Dave pushes to the hilt as you cum around him, whimpering behind his hand. Eager to hear his words, simultaneously terrified.

"Gonna cum inside and get you pregnant myself."

You scream into his hand, trying to push him away from you, trying to get yourself away from his spearing cock. All your effort does is push him in deeper, your body going lax at how stuffed you are.

"Don't fight me, angel. Just take it..." You feel his warm cum spilling into you, your body quivering. "Good... so good. I already feel your body sucking up my cum.. eager for it. Eager to be round with your father in law's baby. What will it call me? Grand-dad?" He snickers into your ear as he releases your body. You just lay there, half your limp limbs hanging off the counter.

Dave watches his thick white liquid drip out of you, and down your inner thighs. He pats your ass and tucks himself back into his slacks.

"Don't worry too much. Daniel looks just like me, he'll never find out his kid is actually his half-sibling. That is unless you tell him. You want him to find out you were on your knees being a slut for his, daddy?" Dave questions you. You don't speak a word. Just staring at the piped detailing on the cupboard that holds all the scented detergents.

"Just go, please. So I can clean myself up." Those few begging words take the reminanets of your little energy.

Dave grabs your now wrinkly nightgown and robe, pulling you off the counter so you're forced to stand in front of him. Body spent, his finger prints have left slight indents on various parts of you that you're positive will bruise in the days to come. You realize now, there's no way your husband can see you uncovered for weeks.

"You're gonna put this slutty outfit on and walk your ass into his room, with my cum dripping down your legs. He's been waiting for you, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops at his demand. Disgusted yet your cunt clenches at the filth of it all.

"I thought you said he left?"

Dave just smiles at you like you're a mindless child. You almost fall to the floor in despair at the discovery of what a lying sick bastard Dave has revealed himself to be. You don't know what to do. You've caught yourself up in this twisted game and as of now, there's no way out.

So, you throw the soft lace over your head and run your fingers through your hair attempting to fix your appearance. As you unlock the door, Dave places a gentle hand on your waist and kisses the top of your head. You hear him inhale your scent before he pushes you out of the door and watches you meander to his son's room, a slight limp in your legs.

You look at him, distain on your face as you open the door to find your husband scrolling on his phone. With an arrogant look spread across his face — "Where have you been?"

Dave hears the click of the door lock setting in place. As he walks towards the stairwell, he can't help but laugh at the memory of his vasectomy he received many years ago.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[valeriapryanikova]

stay awake

[pretty-little-mind33]

Do you think Dave's glasses would fog up when he goes down on Reader because he forgot to take them off because he was so needy?This would be College Dave, of course.

his glasses would 100% fog up! here is a little something for you 😌 college!dave lizewski x fem!reader

mature content warning

~ * ~

Your legs are resting on Dave's shoulders. They're crossed behind his nape as your hands fist in his hair. You pull at his brown curls, moaning uncontrollably. Shit, you're so lost in pleasure you can barely think.

He's been going down on you for almost an hour now, his tongue slipping in and out, sucking and teasing your slick folds like you're his last meal. You arch your back from the messy sheets, groaning his name for the thousandth time as he sucks on your clit.

"Dave," you whine, your voice rushed and strained. "David," you try and warn him, your thighs tightening around his head but he only pulls you closer, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he does so. You gasp, feeling your third orgasm of the evening quickly approaching.

"Fuckin' need you," Dave mumbles into your pussy, his mouth movements becoming even more needy as he speaks. "Mmh. Can I make you come, baby?" He asks for permission even when he is technically the one in charge.

His attentions returns to your clit with precision and you groan, coming again as he laps up your juices happily. Dave is in heaven. He licks his lips, shifting so he can lift himself up a little and look at you.

Your vision is blurry and your chest is heaving from your high. Your eyes stay lidded when you look at him, your cheeks burning.

He looks so needy.

Dave's hair is a mess from your fingers in his curls, his lips are slick with spit and cum and his glasses, which he hadn't taken off, slip down his nose only slightly, the lenses fogged up.

"Can you even see me?" you whisper with a weak smile, catching your breath.

Dave returns your smile with a lopsided one and shakes his head. "Don't need to," he decides confidently and lowers his head again, his warm breath already exciting your poor pussy. "Only need to taste you," he says with a groan and begins to gently hump the mattress to satisfy his own need as he presses sloppy kisses on your slit again.

You moan when he starts eating you out all over again.

[hanasnx]

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.

[gingerteafairy]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 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). moodboard masterlist

[ikkyfics]

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, est. relationship, piv, no use of y/n

A/N: Hi love, I hope you like this <333

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.”

[magicalbunbun]

William's and y/n's

[xoxostiles]

| MOODBOARD |

Dating Stiles Stilinski…. Would include….

Supporting him in lacrosse even if he just sits on the bench…

Movie nights - Netflix and chill?

Acting like an old married couple

Embarrassing weird nicknames cause you guys think it’s funny

He gets very jealous if you talk to boys he doesn’t like, mainly just Theo

You being jealous of his past crush on Lydia, that leading to your first fight then your first I love you

Not big on PDA but will hold your hand and give you a peck on the lips, but in public he’s not down to full on make-out in the school hallways, like eww

Okay hear me out, nerds fuck the hardest trust it’s all that built up academic stress

Have you no walking for dayssssssss

Innocent showers + dirty ones

Sleeping skin to skin after sex

Best after-care ever trust

The pack being annoyed with you guys constantly being M.I.A

Just all around cute ness.

———————————— 💋 ———————————

Xoxo Layla, 💋 <3.

[babsworlds]

STUDY BUDDY.

pairing. Dave Lizewski x fem! reader

synopsis. your study session become more like make out session.

warnings. no use of y/n, suggestive, first kiss?

YOU WEREN’T THE STUDY TYPE. You found it annoying, hard, and most of the subjects totally useless.

You were the kind of girl who would rather go party with her friends than study for an exam, so your dad paid your neighbor, Dave, to help you a bit with studying.

You knew Dave from school. He was the nerd, always with his nose buried in a book or his laptop when he wasn’t with his two nerdy friends, that was all you knew. He wasn’t the type of person you usually surrounded yourself with.

At first, the study sessions felt awkward and forced. Dave was patient and kind, always willing to explain things in a way that made sense to you.

Eventually, you found a reason to like and look forward to these study sessions—Dave was, well, a bit too sexy. His curls, his biceps always sticking out from his t-shirt, and even the round glasses made it better.

You couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed when he explained something, or how his curls fell perfectly around his face. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself drawn to his charm and good looks.

Today was one of those study sessions, and you wanted to look good. You chose a top with a neckline that was a bit daring, making your curves look amazing, and paired it with short shorts.

As you got ready, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew that Dave would be coming over soon, and you wanted to make an impression.

You somehow suspected Dave found you attractive too. The way he was always nervous around you, the way his eyes lingered a bit too long, and the way he looked at you with a mix of admiration and shyness—it all hinted at something more.

You finally heard the bell and rushed to the door. Standing there was Dave, his bag slung over his shoulder and a nervous smile on his face.

"Hi, study partner," you said, opening the door wider and suggesting he come in.

"Hey," he replied, stepping inside. His eyes quickly scanned your outfit, and you could see a flicker of admiration in his gaze before he composed himself.

You led him to your room, where your books and notes were already spread out. "I need help with algebra today," you said, trying to keep things casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Dave nodded, setting his bag down and pulling out his materials. "Okay," he nodded, his voice a bit more confident.

You laid on your stomach on the bed, your head propped up on your hands as you listened to Dave. He sat beside you, his attention focused on the algebra textbook. You couldn't help but admire him, stealing glances at his curls, biceps, and even those round glasses that somehow made him even more attractive.

Every time he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed.

"So..." he started, his voice soft and steady. "Try this." He pointed to a mathematical example on the page, his finger lingering for a moment before looking back at you expectantly.

You started to focus on the problem, trying to solve it. Dave's attention was drawn to your boobs, but you didn't notice his gaze. He tried to stay focused on the algebra, but his eyes kept wandering back to you.

"Okay, so let's try this one," he said, pointing to another example in the book. His voice was a bit shaky, but he managed to keep his composure.

You noticed him looking at that one spot of yours, and you couldn't help but smirk. "My eyes are here, Lizewski," you teased, your voice playful yet firm.

Dave's face turned a deep shade of red, and he quickly averted his gaze, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry," he mumbled, trying to focus back on the algebra problem in front of him.

"This is sooo boring," you groaned, shutting your book with a frustrated sigh. "Let's do something fun," you suggested playfully, sitting up and looking at Dave with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Dave glanced up from his notes, clearly surprised by your sudden change in mood. "Like what?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

You shrugged, a playful smile spreading across your face. "I don't know, anything but this.”

"Have you seen the new Spider-Man?" you asked, excitement evident in your voice as you held up the DVD you got right when it hit the stores.

"Not yet," he replied, his interest piqued. "I've heard it's really good, though."

"How about we watch it together now?" you suggested, a playful smile spreading across your face. "It's way more fun than algebra, don't you think?"

Dave chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Absolutely.”

You quickly set up the DVD and settled in next to Dave on the bed, leaning against the wall. As the movie started, you could feel his gaze on you more often than on the screen. His subtle glances and the way he nervously shifted closer didn't go unnoticed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, feeling the tension build between you two.

Dave's eyes widened, and he fumbled for words. "No-no," he stammered, his cheeks turning red "You just look so pretty," he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his unexpected compliment. Despite the awkwardness, there was something endearing about his honesty. The movie continued to play in the background, but your attention was now fully on each other.

You decided to be risky, you climbed on top of him, sitting on his lap, your hands connecting behind his neck. His trembling hands found your waist instinctively. He looked at you with his blue eyes, the uncertainty and longing clear in his gaze.

“Do you think of me often?” you asked suggestively, your voice soft but filled with curiosity.

Dave’s cheeks flushed, and he swallowed nervously. “Y-yes,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time.”

“Kiss me, Dave, please,” you practically begged, shifting on his lap. You wanted him, and the desire was clear in your voice.

“If you want,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly with uncertainty.

You rolled your eyes at his hesitation and leaned in, closing the distance between you. Your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly deepened as you both gave in to the moment. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more passionate.

"Oh fuck, you whispered under your breath as your tongues fought for dominance, you could feel the bulge in his pants growing under you.

Dave's hands wandered over your body, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you.

You never thought that you would end up kissing Dave Lizewski, the nerd who was supposed to be your study partner. The unexpected connection between you two had grown stronger with each study session, and now, here you were, sharing a moment that you never imagined would happen.

You couldn’t help but moan at his touch. It touch was perfect, like he knew exactly what you liked. But then, a loud bang on your door made you jump. "I hope you two are studying math!" your dad shouted with a light laugh.

You quickly pulled away from Dave, both of you blushing furiously. "Yeah, Dad, we're on it!" you called back, trying to sound casual.

You started to focus back on the notes, trying to push away the lingering excitement from the interruption. As you scribbled some equations, you couldn't help but glance at Dave. "You can come over sometime," you offered, your voice soft and inviting, "but not for studying anymore."

Dave's eyes widened in surprise, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. "I'd like that," he replied, his voice full of warmth and excitement.

[creedslove]

stop cause i’d actually pay for you to write a threesome between dave and javi p

I didn't think it would spike so many feelings on us but yeah, I would love that too!!!

Imagine being shared by the two of them? They are too sexy and I am sure they'd be fighting for control and competing to see who makes you cum harder, that's just HOT

[pedgito]

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Dave York x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Dave's one last contract to tie up before the holidays proves to be more difficult than he expected.

author's note | my adventures in trying to write pwp have failed me again. i made this gifset and here we are. so you get whatever this crazy is. thank you to my womb sister @chaotic-mystery for beta'ing.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, divorced!dave, suburban murder daddy but make it festive, is this a holiday fic?, uhh..there's some bodily fluid usage in here for purposes, knife kink if ya squint, choking, restraints, blood tw, rough unprotected piv, fingering, oral (m &f receiving), one (1) pussy slap, pain kink off the charts, manipulation is the best form of flattery, omitting some tags for spoilers.

word count — 5.4k

Coffee and a chocolate croissant was not how he started a contract.

It was a strict five-step order. Observe, plan, attack, dispose, collect.

Never more, never less. He got in and dirtied his hands, washed away the evidence, and sent the proof to his employer, an unsteady but well-paying job. He was killing people after all.

High profile clients, exes, criminals, he stopped separating them after a while.

But goddammit, you’d charmed him. 

Bewitched him. Body and soul.

Well, that and you caught him at a bad time.

The original plan was to grab his morning coffee and follow your path to work, find an opportunity and take care of business, leave. However, he’s thrown off when you’re already in line at the shop he picks, one out of the million lining the city streets.

It was you and him, a silent standoff amongst the low jingle of christmas music.

The cheery chorus of the Jingle Bell Rock drowning out his thoughts as he lines up behind you, hearing your coffee and breakfast order before the following words slip out, his ears perking:

“This is for mine—and his,” You nod blindly over your shoulder, “and pocket the rest as a tip.”

It was a fifty, his brow furrowing at the action as he begins to speak but is quickly interrupted by your name being called as your coffee was slid over the counter and you flee toward the cup, leaving he and the cashier in silence, who seemed more than delighted at the idea of extra money for the holidays.

He orders quietly, his voice subdued as he insists on paying for his own food, ignorant to your side gaze as you roll your eyes in annoyance and wait as he approaches with more silence, slipping his coffee into a cardboard sleeve as you grab for plastic silverware. 

“Well, happy holidays to you,” You remark with a snide tone, laced and tied in a bow of kindness, “you’re a sweets guy?” Dave looks down at his croissant then, realizing they had handed him the wrong pastry, cursing under his breath.

He seemed frazzled, disrupted, but was masking it with annoyance and frustration.

“Fifty is a little generous, don’t you think?”

“It was a kind gesture,” You continue, “—Christmas around the corner and all.”

Dave sips gingerly at the coffee to taste, praying that it was the one thing they did get right, staring down at the chocolate croissant with disdain, but hunger on the rise.

He’s expecting you to leave already, having a rough idea of your schedule as you would normally head to work within the next—Dave glances at his watch casually—half hour, but instead, you sit.

Fuck—he casually busies himself as he pulls his phone from his pocket, scrolling mindlessly as the coffee shop fills and empties, eventually admitting something similar to defeat as he heads toward the door.

A man of constant routine and you’ve gone and fucked up his day, sitting casually as you picked at your own pastry, giving him a full once over, head to toe, as he heads toward the door—a suit that told a thousand words, and a man with nowhere to go, watching him carefully in the corner as he flitted through this phone.

Either he was being a creep or he was just shy.

And, for your sake, you hoped it was the latter.

“Sit with me,” You insist, his mouth opening immediately in rejection, but you smile and tilt your head to the side, pushing the opposite seat out with your heeled shoe, “hey—don’t act like you have anywhere to go, I just watched you stare at your phone for fifteen minutes.”

Your eyes land expectantly on the seat as Dave deliberates, eventually relenting as he sits. You were his task for the day, he didn’t have anywhere to go where you weren’t.

He doesn’t like this, he doesn’t like this feeling. 

Things had derailed, but somehow, this seemed like it could help him, in the end.

You start with your name, introducing yourself. He offers the same, just a first name. Not a last. In your mind, you shrug. You could work with a first name.

“Well, Dave—are you going to eat that chocolate croissant?” You ask, watching the untouched pastry sit unwanted on the table, “Because if not, I will gladly—”

He pushes it aside, leaning back in his chair as he looks out the window, watching the troves of people pass on their way to work, kids running alongside their parents as they walk to school—a brief glimpse of what could still be, had Carol not been so greedy in the divorce.

He got the girls on weekends, every other week. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all he had. If he wanted to count, he had five more days until he saw their faces again. Often, it was the only thing holding him together. That, and routine.

Your voice disrupts his thoughts again, his eyes ripping up to your smiling face as you pull at the croissant and take a bite, “Holiday’s are fickle, aren’t they?”

Dave raises his brow in question. The fuck does that mean?

“Fickle—you know—”

“I know what that word means,” Dave interrupts, “What are you trying to say?”

Always on edge, this guy. You laugh softly, rubbing your tongue along your bottom lip.

“Some years it feels festive—like real Christmas, you know?” It was redundant, your finger circling the lid of your cup, “Other times it feels like something most people can’t wait to get it over with—like they’d rather be dead than celebrating.”

“That’s dark,” Dave remarks, “considering you were just attempting to spread some holiday cheer by paying for my breakfast–”

“Which you refused, scrooge,” Your eyebrow cocks in challenge, “Where do you work?”

Invasive? Definitely. But, with the suit—it seemed like a plausible question.

Dave lies through his teeth, despite his freeland work as a contract killer.

His job consisted of a name on a piece of paper and a promised dollar amount in his bank account after—no good or bad, it didn’t matter. 

People were unlucky and unfortunate, he chose not to be.

If he was going to do the killing, he was damn well going to be compensated for it. 

He didn’t know who wanted you dead, or why—but you’re grating, unjarring approachableness was throwing a wrench in his plans. If he wasn’t so careful he’d slide the knife through your throat here at the table, just to end this conversation.

You nod your head at his excuse for work, moving beyond a topic he clearly didn’t want to talk about, “Go on, your turn—or have you already read me like a book?”

Fine, he’ll bite. Though, he already knows what you’re going to say. He returns the question about work, mouthing the response in his head like a speech.

“I’m a librarian, a little further in the city, but I like the coffee here.”

The last part was a lie—you frequented one place nearly every day, why you decided to switch up today was unbeknownst to Dave, hence why he was sitting here engaging in such a grating, unproductive conversation. 

You know you’re keeping him, he does too. 

It slowly turns into a stare down, eating away at the croissant he’d passed over, waiting for him to admit defeat and run off, eventually, he does.

“As riveting as this conversation was,” Dave comments, “I’ve got work—it was nice…talking to you.”

The hesitance makes you smirk, subdued behind another kind smile as he leaves, watching his cautious walk back to his car, only a measured amount of time before he would see you again.

–

It has never taken this long. A week, maybe two. But, even that was pushing it. 

His employer had contacted him twice for updates, more on edge as time passed and he can’t seem to avoid you, even as he tracks you from a distance, unaware of his looming presence, you seem to find him in the unlikeliest of places.

Next, it was a gas station—you don’t approach him there, but you offer that same kind smile.

Then, the grocery store, conversing with him over fruits like he was an old friend and Dave is only unsettled by the conversation after you leave, not realizing how easily you had vexed him until he’s got a handful of fruit in his cart alongside his weekly groceries. 

It happens again. And once more. He liked difficult meals—intricate ingredients that were far beyond your skill level. The conversation was always a careful dance of politeness, but Dave softened with every conversation, as much as he could, at least.

You could spot a jaded man from miles away.

He doesn't understand why he can’t just kill you outright—easily detach from the situation and move on, but there was something to you that he couldn’t put his finger on. It was almost alluring, and it made him wonder. It made him curious.

Dave was never curious—he wasn’t paid to be.

He’s resigned to following through that Friday, though. The weekend before Christmas.

Fortunately, you seem to have the same late night craving for takeout—a quaint Chinese takeout place down the block from your apartment. 

It had to be a coincidence, right? 

“I swear,” You jest through a laugh as you stuff your hands into pockets of your puffer coat, “it feels like you’re stalking me.”

“Could say the same,” Dave retorts, a toothpick tucked between his teeth as he waits for his food.

You both wait quietly, exchanging the occasional glance before the tension snaps, curiosity getting the better of you and your enjoyment of making Dave squirm.

“Do you live far?” A careful, precise question. Dave answers it vaguely.

“A ways,” He says nonchalantly, “why?”

“Are you busy tonight?” Other than his obvious task of ordering dinner that he was undoubtedly going to eat in his car as he staked out your apartment, finding the willpower to finish the job.

“A little,” Always so concise, you roll your eyes lightheartedly.

“Come have dinner at my place,” You tell him, an open-invitation, an opportunity served up perfectly, eyeing the incoming weather outside with a high chance of a white Christmas, “—wait out the storm a bit?”

You weren’t pushing. It only took a little coaxing.

“Come on,” You tease, “are you scared of me?”

It’s a striking dichotomy he thinks, knowing he murders for a living.

There’s a ding at the front register as the owner slides over two bags of food tucked away in plastic and styrofoam, calling out the order numbers simultaneously as you both reach for them.

“I don’t bite,” You shrug, “—not really.” 

You flash a triumphant smile as Dave admits defeat.

–

He said he’d meet you there.

You half-expected him to ditch you, but now he was sitting adjacent to you on the couch, chewing methodically at a piece of broccoli alongside the slow murmur of the television, under your curious gaze.

It’s ridiculous, a job that should have taken him a week—a few days, even—had prolonged itself to a month. The constant and vivid imaginative ways he would kill you plague him even now, wondering if strangling you against the couch would be enough to suffice. 

No, that felt too personal.

He’d come back, he’d wait. He would do it while you were sleeping. Quiet, quick.

You strip off a layer of clothing as the heat from your apartment creeped up your neck, a generous amount of skin on display as you slung your sweater over the back of the couch, breasts pressing together as you place your takeout on the cushion separating you and Dave.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” You ask around a bite, stabbing your fork into your food.

Dave couldn’t make sense of your siren-like qualities, the intensity in your eyes with every glance his way, the ease at which you can seduce him into conversation. You were youthful, full of life, and for once in his career he’s found himself hesitating. Asking questions. 

Why you?

“You ask a lot of questions,” Dave notes, a softer tone to his voice, almost as if he was finally warming up to you. There was a constant air of skepticism around you, rightfully so, but he seems to have let it slip, a misjudgment, “don’t you?”

You giggle softly at your impending question, “Are you a whiskey guy? You seem like a whiskey guy.” You’re off the couch quickly, heading toward your open kitchen to fetch an unopened bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, grabbing two glasses on the way back.

“I’ll be honest,” You start lightly, a melodic tone to your voice as you place the glasses on the table and pour a generous amount into both—normally Dave would excuse the offer, but with the bottle sealed and no reason to think otherwise, he drinks, “you make me nervous.”

Dave offers a quiet chortle of disbelief, your vixen-esque qualities supplying the opposite effect.

“I mean, the coincidence of us meeting at the coffee shop,” You begin, “and, sure, I did think that it was strange how often we’ve run into each other, but it almost feels like—”

“Don’t tell me you believe in fate,” Dave interjects, sipping at the rim of the glass.

“Well, how else do you explain that?” You ask, tucking your feet underneath you as you mirror his actions, food set aside. Dave finds himself watching the way your jeans hug your thighs and sit snug against your curves, following the path up your chest and the low cut top that pressed them together, caught red-handed as his eyes draw to yours.

“Sorry,” He quickly excuses, brow furrowing as he turns away in subtle embarrassment, burying his face into the glass of whiskey, “I’m—fate isn’t real. It’s just a coincidence, probably.”

Probably. Surely.

There’s a soft glint of suspicion in your eye, slowly maneuvering forward as Dave’s fist clenches against his slacks—always in a ridiculous fucking suit that you were now determined to get him out of. You’d kill for it, actually. 

“Are you married?” You ask, resting your hand into your open palm as you prop it against the back of the couch, “That—that seems invasive…you don’t have to answer that. I just, if you are—she won’t be mad that you’re here, will she?”

Dave squints, not realizing he’s down the entire glass of whiskey until his next sip comes up empty. He sets the glass aside and answers truthfully, a breakthrough, you think.

“Divorced.”

“Ah,” You sigh, “such a tragedy.”

He wasn’t willing to dig into the details of his tumultuous relationship, regardless of how long it has been, nor was he oblivious to your actions, the finite movements that have pulled you closer and in turn, has centered his body toward you in a subconscious effort to make room.

He didn't often have female hits, but they weren’t non-existent. Dave was a man of constant self-control and restraint, aware of your growing proximity and the fact that his Smith and Wesson was tucked away carefully in the back of his coat, hidden from plain sight but all it would take is a touch—or the switchblade tucked away in his sock, easily concealable and unsuspecting.

He has two avenues—kill you now, deal with the mess. 

Or, he allows it. 

It—your obvious advancements, the slow but salacious blink of your eyes as his eyes drag toward your lips.

Your fingers wrap around the knot of his tie, pulling it gently, loosening it. His neck stretches to the side as your fingers claw up and around, dipping beyond his shirt collar in silence, despite the intense eye contact you held.

It was almost like you were challenging him. He feels it.

You get bold, rising on your knees as the other hand slips between the fabric of his coat and cream button-up and Dave counteracts the movement with a sudden adjustment, pulling the coat off smoothly and slipping it over the back of the couch as you climb into his lap, an evident smirk on your face as you press your ass against his thighs, your cunt pressed against the seam of his zipper and his cock, feeling the solid press of him there—men were all the same.

Dave’s body betrays him, his head tilting back as your fingers move through his hair and back down his freshly shaven face, pointer finger tracing the curve of his lips, a persistent and hardened expression on his face, void of emotion.

“If I asked you to fuck me, would you?” He feels the tug at his tie, your lips millimeters from his own as you stare down at him, “You like to fuck, don’t you?”

A hard distinction. Screw it, he thinks. Detachment, it was easier that way. 

Dave nods, under your spell and the faint courage of whiskey. 

–

He’s never allowed himself this deep into a job,

Undressing himself over you as you scramble naked onto the bed beneath him, ignoring how this wasn’t just a step, but a leap—a fucking mile over the boundaries he’s set within himself, but then you’re rising to lick up the underside of his cock where it glistened with precum, dripping down the side as it bops against your tongue, his hand wrapping into your hair as a warning. 

Your eyes flutter shot as you nod, under his full control as you allow him to fuck himself into your mouth, his knees buckling as he knelt on the bed. His other hand comes up to curve against your chin, cradling your head as he nudged himself against the back of your throat until you were sputtering, drool leaking from your mouth as he pulled away for a brief moment.

Hesitation, you see it.

“Stay with me,” You plead, the words slurred against the shaft of his cock as you wrap your hand around the rest of him that wouldn’t fit, “don’t—don’t think. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Meaningless, more so than he can even imagine. A means to an end.

You could go about this differently—you didn’t always jump toward sex. 

But, Dave was attractive. Unfairly attractive, strong features that left an impression on you and a flutter between your legs—he was hard to break down, but it wasn’t impossible.

Besides, you were breaking your own rules too. 

And you were sure he'd bruised your throat by now, eyes tearing up as he held you there, nose brushing against his groin as he watched you—a mix of astonishment and resentment, laughing airly as he yanks you away.

“It feels good,” You assure him with a teary-eyed smile, “doesn’t it?”

You kiss along his upper thighs, leaning down to mouth against his balls, rolling the tight skin against your tongue, greedy for more as your fingers claw up his thighs, chest, until they’re wrapping around his broad shoulders and pulling him down and over you, the wide expanse of his palms squeezing at your hips, soft skin melding underneath his fingertips.

He buries his face into your chest, licking at your skin to taste, a mix of salt and sweet and something so intoxicating that he finds himself following through with this.

“Turn around,” He demands, “get on your knees.”

You turn swiftly, his hands following the path of your spine as his hand curls around the back of your skull and presses you firmly into the mattress, twisting his fingers around your bicep and pulling your arms behind your back, crossing, reaching for his discarded tie at his feet.

You panic at the inclination of being immobilized, but his voice is unsettling soothing.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Dave counters, “practically fucking begged for it.”

He huffs out a noise of displeasement, sliping the fabric around your wrist and tying it in place, hearing you snicker against the fabric as you peer up at him from your side glance.

“You can do better than that–,” You begin, but the tug is rough, gasping as it pulls your arms straight and tight against your back, “that’s—fuck—”

Your panic is quickly soothed by pleasure, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes it up, level with his mouth as he licks between your folds, admiring the slick that drips down the seam of your pussy, rubbing his thumb down to your clit as he circles it teasingly before pressing a finger inside of you, your gasp swallowed up by the sheets. 

“Barely fuckin’ know me and you’re begging for it like that?” Dave teases, “C’mon, sweetheart.”

Pulling his fingers back to admire the creamy white ribbon that connected your body to his, rubbing his slick covered fingers over your pussy once more with a deafening slap.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” Dave informs, “but I’m going to fuck you like you asked, alright?”

He didn’t have to be nice, or considerate, even. 

Besides, that pain swiftly drifted into gratification as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds before he’s pressing inside of you, a growl radiating from his chest as he sets a brutal pace, his thighs slapping against your skin loudly, fingers digging into your ass and destined to leave marks, cries of helpless delectation into your sheets.

And you could feel it, how badly he needed this too.

Eyes drifted close, the rhythmic pump of his hips, despite their intensity, is almost lulling. It never happened this way, a brief moment of disconnection as you allow your body to feel. It was never this good. Half-assed fucks from lackluster men who undoubtedly deserve what was coming for them—and it didn’t always happen like this, often it only took a sip of alcohol or an entrancing look their way, so easily entrapped in your web.

Dave, however, was a different beast entirely. 

His movements stop after a while, face contorted in a mix of staves of desire and curiousness, pinching up at the spot above his nose and between his brows.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” You tell him, subtly adjusting your shoulders against the discomfort, but he doesn’t move, still staring over your shoulder, “Are you fucking d—”

“Beg for it,” He interjects.

You snort out a soft laugh and shake your head, but then he’s swiftly pulling out and wrapping his hand around the knot at your wrist and pulling you upright, leaving you completely in his hold as your back falls against his chest, dangling over the edge of the bed as he stood behind you, his opposite hand wrapping around your throat and pushing up, tilting your head upright to look at him.

You see the brief moment of hesitation in his gaze, thinking he could wrap his hands around your throat and do away with you now, but his lips part and his thumb presses against the side of your jaw, pulling a gasp from your throat, “Beg,” He seethes.

Then the pressure comes, a gentle squeeze that forces air out of your throat, stuttering out a quiet, “P-Pl—please,” His hand shakes against the pressure as your eyes roll back, “fuck—fuck me, please.”

He fists his cock and slides back inside of you with one fluid movement, helpless to his grip as keeps teetering on the edge of consciousness, his breathing increasingly more distressed as his hips begin to stutter in rhythm behind you.

He was getting off on the idea of your life in his hands like this—Dave could do it like this, even you know that. A man who craved power, this was no different.

You moan weakly against the hand on your throat, face contorting in a petulant way that catches his gaze as your eyes peek open, bottom lip quivering as his grip on the tie at your wrist pulls, a spark of pain shooting up your spine.

“H—hurts,” You admit to him, though it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, he seemed to have a soft spot in that deranged brain of his, for you, “s’tight, hurts so bad.”

Dave breathes harshly through his nose, debating, examining the sincerity on your features for a while, eyes fluttering closed as your mouth opens in a faint cry, before he finally relents.

You fall forward at the release, arms stretching over your head as you fall, the ache in your shoulders dissipating at the relief as you roll onto your back, his face slack as he follows your movements, cock sitting proudly against his stomach as you reach for his hand, a delicate pull as he follows your guide, a sated smile on your face.

“Like this,” Your voice is soothing, dragging a hand down his chest until you can wrap your hand around his cock, wordlessly he spreads himself above you as you guide the head of his cock through your arousal before he’s inside of you again, entranced as you examine his features.

He fucks you with the same intensity, but this is more personal. Your hands curl around his where they’re pressed into the mattress, legs interlocked over his hips as you breath into his mouth, exchanging a cacophony of noises and meaningless expletives before he’s pulling out without warning, large palm pressed against your thigh to keep your legs spread as he fists his cock, wrapped tight as he came against you stomach in thick spurts, the warmth pooling against your skin as his lips parted in a newfound relaxation.

You drag your finger through the fluid, swirling it against your fingertip as he watches your movement with careful eyes, pressing your finger against his chest as you dot once, twice, a small arch to create the illusion of a smiling face before you’re crossing through it lazily.

“You forgot about me,” You pout, dragging our finger up to his chin as he tilts it upwards before you’re pinching it between your grip, “what about me?”

He hadn’t, but you weren’t allowing him the leeway to argue.

Dave willingly allows the force of your movements, slowly dragging up his face and into his hair as he buries his mouth against your cunt, his tongue swirling against your clit with a careful precious as he stares you down, countered by your own gaze, propping yourself off the bed on your palm.

He licks into you, tongue dipping inside your stretched hole tasting of something sweet and entirely you, mixed with himself, an intoxicating flavor as his hands wrap around your thighs, nose burying against your sensitive clit as he growls, a reverberation that has you shaking under his grip before he’s tilting his head up to suck at bundle of nerves, nearly arching off the bed at the sensation as your orgasm hits you all at once, rather than a rolling wave.

His gaze doesn’t falter once, even as you fall slack against the bed.

He should do it now—guard down, defenses non-existent, but then you’re pulling him up and against your chest, maneuvering in a delicate dance until he’s cuddling you from behind, without a word of acknowledgment.

Eventually your breathing settles, wordless and calm. And despite the nagging voice in the back of his head, he finds himself succumbing to exhaustion too. 

–

When he wakes, you’re still asleep. 

The sun had set, casting the room in a faded blue, the blanket of snow outside casting a faint glow—he still had time, finish the job while you were sleeping, admit his colossal fuck-up and move on. He moves slowly, careful as he leans off the edge of the bed to grab for his knife buried away in his shoe.

“Where the fuck is it?” He mumbles to himself, nearly scrambling off the bed as he considers going for his gun, but the knife pressed into his throat has him on high alert, turning as the blade slices into his neck—just a knick, but he counters the movement, attempting to pin you underneath him.

“You’re awake,” You announce with a grin, face contorting in frustration until you can fit the knife at his ribs, fighting his grip until he’s settled underneath you, arms pinned under your knees, “so—no contingency plan? That’s a rookie move, even for you.”

“Who gave you my name?” Dave, blunt as always—he cuts right through the bullshit.

You frown slightly, hoping he’d play along for a moment.

“C’mon, Dave,” You jest, his breath catching as you apply pressure to the junction where you held the knife, one sudden movement and it would pierce his lung, “who do you think?”

“Who?” He bites, realizing his helplessness in the situation.

“The same person who gave you mine,” You answer after a long pause, tapping your finger against the center of his chest, “but—listen, I don’t have to kill you. I don’t.”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart,” Dave informs, not lost on you.

You make a sound of discontent, shrugging your shoulders. 

“I have a proposition for you,” You chirp, “Well—more like an ultimatum. Because, if you don’t agree…I’ll just kill you right now, let you drown in your own blood as your lung collapses.”

Dave scowls, listening to you continue, “Can I trust you if I let you go?”

“No,” Dave answers quickly, whatever spell you’ve cast over him is now broken, the illusion gone, “Just do it, actually.”

It feels like a test—and you would, but you can’t.

He voices the same.

“You need me, don’t you?” He asks, genuinely curious. 

Contingency plans, they were tricky.

“I hoped the sex would be enough to convince you.”

Dave smirks at that, surprisingly. 

“You could have killed me already, but you haven’t,” You remind him, “I gave you plenty of chances and you didn’t—why?”

“The timing wasn’t–”

“You’re lying,” He feels the sting of an open wound as you slice the tip of the knife over his skin like a papercut, “Be honest with me—please?”

There’s an unnatural twitch to your head as it tilts, “Please?”

“I don’t know,” Dave answers with a sigh, “Guess I didn’t see you as much of a threat, that I could take my time.”

You raise your eyebrows as you breathe out a laugh, “I’m going to let you up,” You inform him, but slide the knife to his neck, “—under one condition.”

“I could just—”

“I have your gun,” You admit, “Emptied it—and there’s nothing in this apartment you can harm me with. It’s not even mine. And you can try to take this from me, or even kill me with your bare hands, but I think you’ve gone a little rusty, in my opinion.”

Dave offers a look of confusion.

“I really do admire your work, you know. All of us, in the network. We’ve heard about you—no one..no one knows who you are but, I just…had a feeling. Your work is clean, precise. You’re methodical.”

“And you’re fucking crazy,” He retorts, twisting his wrist in discomfort as you clamber off of him, knife outheld as he rises with you, “this method’ll get you killed, if that’s your style.”

“M’not dead, yet,” You shrug, “Besides, I don’t make a habit of…that.”

The sex, he knows that’s what you mean. He can’t say he does either.

“Somebody wants both of us dead,” You remind him, “doesn’t that concern you?”

You turn the knife in your grip and offer it to him, handle first. 

“You’re a better tracker than me, I need that. And I’m a terrible fucking shot.”

Dave grins slightly at the compliment as he reaches for underwear, feeling unnaturally vulnerable as you stood toe to toe with him, rising up with a newfound curiosity. 

“Open your mouth,” He directs, a glint of intrigue in his eyes, “stick your tongue out.”

Without a thought, you do. He grabs your chin, squeezing your jaw until your lips parted and your tongue slipped out, dragging the blade along the center of your tongue and leaving the thick, crimson liquid to bubble to the surface as he dragged it along the surface. You giggled softly to yourself as you lunge forward, teasing him with a lick that barely graces the surface of his lips.

He grips your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Obedience,” He warns, “If you want me to help you, I need it.”

You relent, swallowing against his grip as you nod.

“Let me hear it,” He grits through his teeth.

“Ye—yes,” You oblige, full-certainty, “Obedience, got it.”

He has a terrible feeling about it, but in an eerily comforting way, he trusted you.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave lizewski x fem!reader

KINKTOBER 2024

warnings: SMUT - 18+ sub!dave, dom!reader, handjobs, praise, oral (m receiving), insecurities, punishment

~ thank you @corpsebridemepls for the prompt 💗 ily ~

There was nothing you loved more than watching Dave fall apart for you.

He'd been in one of his moods this evening, his head hung low as he chewed on his lip and pretended like he wasn't sending you the most pathetic, needy, puppy dog eyes you have ever seen. Frankly, he was begging for your attention and so you happily provided him with it.

"Now shush," you warn as you sit on your knees behind him, heels against your ass, naked breasts pressed against his back as you lean your chin on his shoulder. You can see the tears glistening in his eyes from his reflection in the full-body mirror you've moved in front of your bed.

You have his heavy cock resting in your hand as you glide your thumb teasingly over the tip, watching as his pre-cum dribbles onto your palm. 

"Messy boy," you whisper into his ear, biting on his earlobe as he whimpers. 

You watch as Dave's eyes flutter shut from the stimulation and the embarrassment and you squeeze his cock, causing his thighs to clench and his eyes to fly open again. "M'sorry," he hurries to say, blinking rapidly as he watches himself in the mirror.

"What did I tell you, baby?"

"Keep your eyes on the mirror," Dave repeats your words instantly. 

"And why is that?" 

He lifts his hips to meet your hand as you stroke him slowly, kissing down his neck. He's doing his best to look at himself, his earlier insecurities biting him in the ass as he tells you what you'd ordered him to say, "Because I'm a p-pretty boy a-and I deserve to know it."

Dave sounds embarrassed and you lick a stripe up his neck, your hand moving faster. You look at him, catching his gaze in the mirror, and tilt your head teasingly. He looks like a blushy, desperate mess. His cock is twitching and you can tell he wants to come already. 

You won't make it that easy for him.

"You know I hate nothing more than when my cute, adorable, handsome baby thinks so badly of himself," you whisper, sounding stern. 

Dave nods, biting down on his lip to stifle a moan. 

"And d'you know why I hate it so much?"

He can't help the groans that escape his lips as he shakes his head. 

"Because it makes me sad to think you can't see yourself like I see you," you praise and slowly lift yourself from behind him, nipples grazing his bare back, and Dave shivers. You walk around and position yourself on your heels again, your hands spreading his thighs.

"Do you like making me sad?"

Dave whimpers. "No- no—"

You look at his dick and smile. "I love you so much, my handsome boy."

You lean down and kiss the tip, sensing his shiver. Dave looks down at you and clenches his hands in the sheets. You look back up and catch his gaze, licking up his cock and then humming in disapproval. 

"Now, I want you to look at yourself while I suck you off. Look at how pretty your expressions are for me, watch yourself fall apart and see how gorgeous you are, can you do that for me?" You gently suck his tip, teasing him as you pull away, "and every time you feel yourself becoming close, I want you to tell me how damn pretty you are, understand? Gotta make sure you understand never to speak that way about yourself," you finish with a hum and listen to Dave's poor whimper as you take his cock in your mouth. 

Hopefully, this helps the message sink in. 

tags: @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

[latenightreadingpdf]

Hidden in Plain Sight (3) - Dave Lizewski

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊ ☽◯☾ ₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 1 ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Part 2 ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When Y/S/N saves Kick-Ass from a dangerous situation, he becomes obsessed with trying to uncover her true identity. Little does he know, Y/S/N is a girl from his school who secretly has a crush on him as well. As they patrol together, their worlds collide in ways neither expected, leading to a surprising revelation about who's really behind the mask.

Y/S/N - Your superhero name

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N strolled through the neighborhood, her mind buzzing with ways to tease Dave. She was endlessly entertained by how adorably flustered he got under that mask—especially when she pushed the limits, gushing over him like he wasn’t the same guy beside her, trying desperately to stay composed. She knew he tried to be respectful, but she often caught him sneaking glances at her chest, and every time she called him out on it, he’d blush furiously under the mask.

Lost in her thoughts, she was pulled back to reality by a quiet cough from behind. Turning, she saw Kick-Ass himself standing there, adjusting his mask nervously.

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to show up,” she teased.

“I–uh, sorry I’m late,” he replied, still slightly out of breath.

She smirked, nudging him lightly as they began walking. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I just wanted to tell you all about Dave. I finally talked to him yesterday, and it went so well! I asked him to tutor me in calc, and he said yes. Now we’re going to spend all this time together.” She glanced at him, watching his hands start to fidget as she kept going. “I’m just worried, you know? I’ll be trying to learn, but I don’t think I can focus when he’s around. God, he’s so hot. And those hands…” She trailed off dreamily. “I always wonder what they’d feel like on my—”

Suddenly, Kick-Ass stumbled over his own feet, nearly tripping into the street. Y/N pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, but she couldn’t stop herself entirely.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “I know I’m rambling. What about you? Got anything spicy going on in your love life?”

Kick-Ass cleared his throat, clearly flustered. “Uh, yeah. It’s, um… good.”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you have to give me more than that! I’m basically pouring my heart out here, and I get ‘yeah, it’s good’? Spill!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” he relented, clearly trying to think of a way to answer without giving too much away. “There’s this girl, and she’s—”

CRASH.

Oh thank god, Dave thought.

A loud noise cut him off, followed by shouting around the corner. Instinctively, he snapped to attention. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, as the two of them took off, sprinting towards the sound to see how they could help.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next day, both Dave and Y/N stepped up their game a bit. Dave put extra effort into picking a shirt that didn’t smell like his closet floor, even making sure his hair didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed. Meanwhile, Y/N chose a lower-cut shirt and wore that perfume she knew drove him crazy, adding just a hint more makeup for that extra polished look.

As calculus neared, Dave practically power-walked to the classroom, heart pounding, and took his seat, eyes glued to the door. When Y/N entered, she caught his gaze, offering a warm smile and a wave.

“Hey, Dave,” she greeted, walking up to his desk. “Are you still free to tutor me after school?”

“Of course!” he replied, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but she just smiled, and he watched as she headed to her seat.

For the rest of the day, Dave’s mind was nowhere near his classes. The only thing that seemed to register in his brain was the thought of his upcoming study session with Y/N.

When the final bell rang, Dave wasted no time heading to the library. Halfway there, his phone buzzed with a text:

Y/N: At the table near the back of the library :)

He found her easily, smiling as she waved him over. “Hey, Y/N. Are you ready to start?” he asked, taking the seat beside her.

“Yup! I was hoping we could go over the first unit,” she replied. “I think missing that might be why everything else isn’t making sense.”

“Sure, let’s start there,” he said, pulling out his textbook. He walked her through some basic concepts, then pulled out a sheet of paper to work through a few examples. As he began writing, Y/N scooted her chair closer to get a better view, leaning in, and he felt his mind go blank for a second.

“Uh, so, um,” he stuttered, nearly forgetting what he was supposed to be teaching.

With every example, Y/N seemed to get closer, her shoulder brushing his every so often, her perfume making it impossible for him to concentrate. By the end of the session, Dave was practically melting, trying to keep his focus.

“Thanks so much,” Y/N said as they stood up, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “You’re a great teacher, Dave.”

He barely managed to stammer out a reply, feeling like he’d floated to another dimension. As they walked toward the library doors, she mentioned she was planning to walk home.

Dave felt a surge of courage. “I could, um, walk you home if you want?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

The walk was relaxed, conversation flowing easily. They talked about comics, giving each other recommendations, Dave told stupid stories about Todd and Marty, Y/N talked about a party she went to, and just learned more about each other. Every minute of it felt more natural than anything he’d experienced, like the superhero masks weren’t necessary anymore.

When they finally reached her house, Y/N turned to him, eyes warm. “Thanks for walking me home, Dave. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded, practically grinning from ear to ear. “Definitely. See you.”

As he walked back to his own house, he couldn’t stop smiling, mind whirling with every little moment he’d just spent with her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Between superhero patrols and calculus tutoring, Y/N and Dave had been seeing a lot of each other lately. They texted all the time, and Dave had been noticing her texts popping up at any time of day, which made him grin even at the simplest “Hey, what’s up?”

Saturday afternoon brought him a new message:

Y/N: Dave, pleeease save me! I’m so boooored. :( Dave: I’m about to walk to Atomic Comics to meet Todd and Marty. Wanna hang out with us? Y/N: YES, THANK YOU. Dave: I’ll stop by your place on my way.

He set off for her place, nerves jangling. As she joined him on the walk to the store, he tried to keep his cool but couldn’t stop himself from blurting, “Just a heads-up: my friends are, uh… really weird.”

She laughed, nudging his arm. “They can’t be that weird. I bet they’re just like you—maybe a little shy.”

Dave only chuckled in response, inwardly wincing at how little she knew about Todd and Marty’s lack of social skills.

They slid into a booth across from Todd and Marty, who were already seated. As Dave introduced Y/N, both of his friends seemed frozen, eyes wide, staring at her like she was from another planet. Five silent, awkward seconds passed.

“Guys… Really?” Dave whispered, giving them each a nudge under the table. “Don’t act so… I don’t know… weird?”

That seemed to do the trick. Todd cleared his throat and muttered a barely audible “Hi,” while Marty attempted a smile and a wave.

Y/N just smiled back, unphased, and Dave jumped into conversation about a new Spider-Man x Wolverine crossover he’d been obsessed with lately. As he pulled the comic out from his bag, Y/N scooted closer to look, her shoulder pressing against his. Dave tried to keep his focus on the comic’s cover, but it was hard with her so close, leaning over to see. He felt his face flush and prayed that Todd and Marty wouldn’t say anything embarrassing.

From across the table, they exchanged looks, clearly unable to believe that Dave was sitting that close to Y/N.

Eventually, Dave got up to go to the bathroom, leaving Y/N with his friends. She looked across at them with a smile. “So, guys, I’ve gotta know—what are the best comics here? I’m kind of new to this whole thing.”

The question seemed to break through the last of Todd and Marty’s reservations. Todd’s eyes lit up, and he immediately launched into an enthusiastic explanation of his favorite series, going so far as to pull up comic covers on his phone and explaining key plot points. Marty joined in, pointing out his personal favorites on a nearby rack.

Y/N listened, nodding along and laughing at their side tangents. It didn’t take long before she was laughing along with them, chiming in with questions and responding to their recommendations with genuine curiosity. Soon, Todd was leading her around the store, showing her the most underrated comics and detailing why certain storylines were, in his words, “the best character arcs of all time.”

By the time Dave came back, Y/N was chatting with them comfortably. “So, okay, this whole series is a must-read,” she was saying, holding up a copy of Saga that Todd had practically forced into her hands. “Where should I start?”

“Volume one!” Marty and Todd chorused. Todd gave her a detailed breakdown of how she could get up to speed in no time.

Dave sat down, unable to keep from smiling at the way she fit in with his friends. “Making converts?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, totally,” Y/N said, scooting back beside him. “I’m basically a comic expert now.”

The four of them ended up lingering at the shop, laughing over various comics and obscure references, until the store started dimming its lights to close up. When they got up to leave, Dave offered to walk Y/N home.

They talked the whole way, chatting about the evening, laughing about Todd and Marty’s passion for comics, and revisiting her new reading list.

“Your friends are funny,” Y/N said as they stopped at her door, smiling.

He laughed. “Funny? That’s new. Usually, they’re terrible.”

She laughed too, eyes twinkling, and then, without warning, she leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Dave.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his cheeks tingling where her lips had brushed his skin. “Uh—goodnight,” he managed weakly as she turned and slipped inside.

Walking home, his head was all fuzzy. As excited as he was about how close he and Y/N were getting, there was that nagging thought in the back of his mind—could he really get close to her without ever telling her he was Kick-Ass? It made him wonder if he could ever have a real chance with her if he kept hiding half his life.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

After school one day, Dave was hanging out at Atomic Comics, flipping through the latest issues with Todd and Marty, when he heard the bell above the door chime. He glanced up from his comic just in time to see Y/N practically sprinting into the store, her face lit up with excitement. She beelined straight toward him, holding up a crinkled piece of paper with a big red “92%” circled at the top.

“Dave!” she almost shouted, her grin so wide it looked like her face might split in two. “Look! 92! I got a 92 on my calculus test!” Before he knew what was happening, she threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly and burying her face in his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, her words muffled but still bursting with enthusiasm.

Dave’s brain went into overdrive, his senses zeroing in on the warmth of her arms around him, her hair brushing against his cheek, and the soft, citrusy scent of her perfume. Somehow, he managed to wrap his arms around her, gently squeezing her back.

“I knew you could do it,” he murmured, grinning ear to ear.

When she finally pulled back, her hands still rested on his shoulders. She looked up at him, eyes gleaming with excitement. “We have to celebrate. You should come over tonight. We’ll watch a movie, and I’ll buy a ton of your favorite snacks. What do you say?”

Dave’s heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it. “Uh… yeah, sure,” he stammered, doing his best to sound casual, though the idea of spending an evening alone with her made him feel anything but.

“Great!” she said, her smile widening even more—if that was possible. With a final wave, she turned and headed for the door, throwing a quick “Bye, guys!” over her shoulder to Todd and Marty.

The door closed, and the three of them watched her leave, stunned into silence. Todd was the first to break it. He nudged Dave with his elbow, eyes wide. “Dude,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. “This is it. Tonight’s the perfect night to tell her how you feel. You’ve gotta do it!”

Marty nodded enthusiastically, his expression a mix of excitement and impatience. “Seriously, man. She invited you over for a movie night. She wants to celebrate with you. You can’t just ignore that!”

Dave looked between his two friends, his excitement battling with nerves. “You think so?” he asked, even though he could barely contain his own excitement at the thought.

Todd clapped him on the back. “You’ve got this, Dave. Just be honest with her.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Dave thought he might actually pass out.

As soon as you opened the door, he had to fight to keep his mouth from hanging open—you were in the cutest pair of fluffy pajama pants and a tiny tank top that showed just a hint of midriff. It was unfair, honestly. Before he could even fully process it, you grabbed his arm, and with a warm smile, pulled him inside, leading him up the stairs and straight to your room.

Walking into your room felt like stepping into another world, one that was undeniably and entirely you. Posters lined the walls, your desk was organized in a way that was both chaotic and charming, and there were little knick-knacks on your shelves that seemed to tell a story all their own. It was exactly how he’d imagined it… Not that he imagined your room or anything like that. That would be weird, right? Totally weird. Totally not him. He definitely did not imagine your room all the time… though, looking around, it was kind of uncanny how close he’d gotten it.

"Go ahead and get comfortable! I’m just grabbing more candy from the kitchen," you said, heading out the door.

He nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed, still taking everything in. Then he noticed a plush bunny sitting at the top of your pillow. Grinning, he reached over and picked it up, giving it a little squeeze, admiring its big, floppy ears. He was caught red-handed when you came back, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you laughing at him.

“Oh my god, you’re one of those people, huh?” he teased, holding the bunny up like a prized possession.

You put a hand on your hip, rolling your eyes playfully. “Yes, I am, and it’s cute, okay?”

He chuckled, flipping the bunny around in his hands. “What’s his name?”

You groaned, blushing. “Come on, Dave… do you really need to know?”

He put on a serious face, hugging the bunny dramatically. “Absolutely. His name is—”

You bit back a smile, rolling your eyes. “… it’s Mr. Floppy.”

He choked back a laugh. “Mr. Floppy? Well Mr. Floppy is my new best friend now.”

“Oh no, how will I ever survive,” you replied in a mockingly dramatic tone, unable to hide your grin. Within seconds, the two of you broke out in a fit of laughter, your voices mingling in a way that made your room feel like the safest, happiest place in the world.

Settling down, you handed him a bowl of candy and flopped onto the bed next to him, pulling up the movie. As it started, you shifted closer, so much so that Dave could feel the warmth radiating from you. By the time you were twenty minutes in, you were nestled against his chest, his arm resting around you almost instinctively. He didn’t dare move—this was the closest he’d ever been to you, and he could feel his heart racing, every nerve on edge. Every thirty seconds or so, he couldn’t help himself; he’d glance down at you, admiring the way the glow from the screen softened your features.

After a while, you must’ve felt him looking at you because you shifted, turning to meet his eyes. The two of you were so close that your breaths mingled, and the tension between you was thick enough to cut. In a quiet voice, you tilted your head and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Dave swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing, it’s just… you look really pretty.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you offered a shy smile, thanking him softly as you continued to gaze into his eyes. The movie was entirely forgotten now.

“Y/N, I… uh, I really like you,” he stammered, finally gathering the courage to say what he’d been holding back. “You’re so smart, beautiful, and… way out of my league, but I can’t help it. I really want to be more than friends.”

For a moment, you simply looked at him, and his heart felt like it might stop entirely. “Say something… please,” he whispered, his voice laced with nervousness.

Finally, a smile spread across your face, and with a glance down at his lips, you leaned in, closing the gap with a gentle, sweet kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, “I like you too, Dave.”

A grin broke across his face, and he could hardly believe this was happening. “Can I… can I kiss you again?” he asked, breathless, as if he were asking permission for a once-in-a-lifetime privilege.

Laughing softly, you replied, “You can kiss me whenever you want.”

This time, he kissed you deeper, pouring every ounce of his feelings into it, savoring every second. The kiss grew more passionate, and his heart pounded in his chest, but when you finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but let out a soft, disappointed whine, not wanting the moment to end.

You bit your lip, an amused smile on your face. “I actually have something to confess, too,” you said, your voice softer now.

Sitting up straighter, he looked at you with wide eyes, a slight furrow in his brow. “What is it?”

You took a breath, meeting his gaze. “I know you’re Kick-Ass.”

For a moment, he froze, his mind scrambling. “W-What?” he spluttered, immediately trying to backtrack. “I—Kick-Ass? No, that’s—that’s not me! I’m, uh—”

You held up a hand to stop him, laughing softly. “And I know you know that I’m Y/S/N.”

His eyes widened even further, and he seemed completely thrown off. “But… you always talked about ‘Dave’ to me when we were out, you know, fighting crime together. I thought… I thought I had you fooled.”

You shrugged, grinning. “I just liked teasing you. It was… kind of adorable to see you get all flustered.”

“Oh,” he breathed, the realization dawning on him as his face flushed a deep red. He couldn’t help but laugh, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed. The two of you settled back into the bed, and a grin spread across his face as a new thought occurred to him.

“Just think about it, though—we’d make the most amazing superhero couple ever,” he said, his voice bubbling with excitement at the idea. “Kick-Ass and Y/S/N, taking down bad guys together? We’d be unstoppable!”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you poked his chest. “Not so fast, Kick-Ass. Before we start planning our crime-fighting future, you’ve gotta take me on a proper date first.”

He grinned sheepishly, nodding as he took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Right. Totally. Consider it done.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ and that concludes this story! thank you all for reading <3 I’ll probably go back through this another time and edit it a bit. If anyone has any Kick-ass fic recs or ideas please send them my way pretty please :)))

[gingerteafairy]

type (dave lizewski x reader)

You're Dave's type, but he's too shy to tell.

tags n warnings: language, college!dave, teasing, mentions of sex. word count: +900 masterlist

The holidays were over, and you were finally going to see your best friend, Dave, again—a relief, given that the genius only replied to messages every few months. Sitting alone in the lecture hall, headphones on, you tried to tune out the idle chatter of your college classmates. Occasionally, you’d tilt your head to eavesdrop on bits of their conversations, but nothing held your attention for long.

Then, the door creaked open, and there he was. Dave stumbled in, nearly tripping over his own feet, his trademark awkwardness in full display. Your lips spread into a wide smile as you shot up from your seat and hurried toward him, wrapping him in a tight, lingering hug.

“Oh my God, Dave. It’s been so long! I missed you so much!” you exclaimed, rocking him side to side as his arms circled you hesitantly before settling into the embrace.

“Yeah, way too long,” he mumbled, chuckling nervously as he stepped back, one hand awkwardly running through his hair. His eyes darted away briefly before finding yours again. He shifted on his feet, then tossed his bag onto a random chair at the back of the room. “Uh, I’m just gonna say hi to Todd real quick.”

“I’m coming with you,” you said without hesitation, trailing behind him as he flashed you a shy grin. “I’m like your shadow, Dave. You’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t mind,” he quipped, his voice softer than usual, as if he were still processing how happy he was to see you.

When the two of you reached Todd, Dave greeted him with an overly enthusiastic high-five, laughing a little too loudly as they exchanged a few words. You hung back, watching the interaction with a warm smile, glad to see him back in his element.

After their brief conversation, Dave turned back to you with a mischievous glint in his eye, raising an eyebrow. “What?” you asked, squinting at him curiously.

He glanced around the room, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Come with me,” he whispered, leading you to a quieter corner. His gaze flickered toward Todd, who was engrossed in his phone. Lowering his voice even further, he asked, “He’s your type, isn’t he?”

Your cheeks flushed as you laughed softly. “Damn it. Yeah, he is.”

“I knew it,” Dave said, grinning smugly before his expression faltered. He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure. “Uh, wait. Is that, like, offensive or something? I didn’t mean it to be—like, dating stuff—”

“Relax, Dave,” you interrupted with a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I just… have a weakness for wavy hair.”

He swallowed hard, adjusting his shirt and fidgeting with the hem before abruptly striding toward the door and you crossed your fingers hoping he didn't get that he was your major type. “Follow me,” he blurted, glancing back to make sure you were behind him. He led you out into the hallway, peeking through the glass pane on the door.

“What are we doing here?” you whispered, mirroring his action and looking inside.

“Trying to figure out who else in there is your type,” he replied, squinting as he scanned the room. After a moment, he nodded toward someone. “Okay, the guy in the Strokes shirt with glasses.”

“Shit, Dave,” you muttered, laughing as you shook your head. “How do you always know?”

“I could fuck him. He's fucking cute. Look at those glasses and band buttons. So appealing.” He chuckled softly.

“Hold all bisexuals in the world, The Strokes guy is the moment.” You laughed, glancing at the guy briefly looking behind and you both crouched on the floor. “Do you think he heard us?”

“I hope so, we can make a threesome.” he teased, nudging you.

“Being sandwiched by two dorks, life achievement.” You said giggling with Dave on the floor. You both stood up and proceeded to chase.

“Your turn,” he challenged, crossing his arms.

You smirked, pretending to ponder before pointing to a girl with wavy hair and a blue sweater. “Her.”

“She’s hot,” he admitted, his cheeks reddening. He ran a hand through his messy hair and avoided your gaze, but his attention soon drifted back to you. He licked his lips, debating whether to say what was on his mind.

“What about the redhead in the Slayer shirt?” you teased, watching him glance at her.

“She’s… yeah, she’s nice,” he said quietly, though his eyes quickly returned to you.

Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the courtyard. “Alright, now I’m guessing yours,” he said with a determined look.

“Dave,” you interrupted, halting his steps. “You know you’re my type, right?”

His entire face flushed as he froze, his hand flying to cover his face. “Shit, sorry. I embarrassed you, didn’t I?” you asked, guilt creeping into your voice.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he mumbled through his hands. Slowly, he dropped them, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. “It’s just… you’re mine, too.”

Your breath caught as you smiled down at the ground before meeting his soft, nervous gaze. Before either of you could say anything more, the reality of class hit you.

“Dave, do you think class started already?” you asked suddenly.

“I was just about to ask you that,” he replied, scratching his neck awkwardly.

The two of you rushed back, slipping into the room just as the professor launched into a speech about tardiness. You barely heard a word of it, your thoughts consumed by what Dave had just admitted. For Dave, hearing your confession in person—rather than over a text he’d likely overthink for weeks—meant the world. You were exactly his type, and he couldn’t believe his luck.

[ikkyfics]

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 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.

[slushy-sash]

this meme is such a good excuse to draw characters you dont normally draw anymore