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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 3 days ago

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bruce wayne and a gentle gf?

i just feel like he’s so used to having demanding and shameless partners (talia, selina, the rest of his roster, probably half the justice league) it’d be a switch up to have someone soft spoken. someone who doesn’t demand his attention and just waits for him to come home before sunrise, bored and sleepy when he comes up to bed.

and it takes him a while to adjust to you. your soft spoken behaviour, gentle smiles, patience, kisses when he climbs into bed, down his spine that lead to nothing but you showing how much you care about him. nothing he was used to anymore.

and then he finds himself looking forward to getting off patrol, to getting to you and your warm hugs and cold hands against his abs, cuddling him close while you sleep.

he looks forward to seeing you curled up in his chair in the batcave, dressed in one of his shirts, half asleep but there because you couldn’t help but worry about him. he can’t wait to scoop you up into his arms and carry you up the stairs to bed because that’s what you deserve. to be loved and cherished and treated with the same tenderness you gave him.

he enjoys how shy you tend to be when you want something from him. which isn’t often because you’re satisfied with just having him — another thing he loves.

he keeps a hand under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes when you need to say something, you feel bad for asking him for anything because that’s how you are. but bruce would give you whatever you wanted, if you ever so much as think of it.

new set of jewellery? done.

you want those pretty heels that go with your new dress? check your closet.

but you’re not materialistic like his ex-flings, don’t care much for his wealth and his name, you only care about the man who comes home to you at odd hours of the day and settles himself only in your arms because that’s where he belongs.

nsfw under the cut

and sometimes, he’ll come home and settle himself between your thighs, starting out innocent, the picture of a tired business man coming home to his loving girl after a long day. he’ll press kisses along your thighs, hum hoarsely, let you feel the press of his teeth ‘playfully’ before another kiss lands there too. he’ll make a show out of it, pretending like he isn’t going to do what you know will inevitably come.

soon — because he’s impatient — he’ll be kissing over your cotton panties, pretending to not notice the way your thighs shift around his head before pressing his tongue against the fabric, letting the saliva coated on there transfer onto your panties.

and he’ll repeat this, over and over again, aiming to catch you off guard when he actually starts.

and when he does? you’re really in for it.

it’s no surprise that bruce isn’t great with his words, he prefers actions, gifts, sex. to show you what he hopes you already know.

sure, you’re definitely a little — a lot — shy when it comes to him. quiet in a way his mind needs, no constant nagging for his attention, just patience and carefully placed touches.

but he’s on a mission to make you as loud as possible for him in moments like these. he wants to hear you gasp, to hear his name on your tongue like a prayer, desperate for anything he might give you. and bruce gives, with you? he can’t stop giving.

its a thanks and a confession wrapped into one.

he’s gruff, grunting into your ear with every thrust, every move of his hips against yours, every feel of you clenching around him has him making sounds he didn’t even realise.

he was letting out. his fingers, nimble and certain, rub circles into your clit because he’ll be damned if he cums before you do — he has before and he’s never stopped trying to make it up to you despite you not minding.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 3 days ago

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Dave, while being very inexperienced, makes that up with enthusiasm and obedience. When you teach him to go down on you, he'll look up with big nervous eyes and trembling lips. You guide him with a soft voice and gentle hand on the back of his head. Once Dave gets his first taste of you, he's a goner. He'll keep going until you push him away, far too lost in your taste to ever think about stopping. After that, he won't stop asking if he can do it again. He'll ask with a blush and stutter that you can hardly say no to. He's so needy that sometimes he won't even wait for you to sit or lie down, he'll drop to his knees to devour you! -🍒 anon

🍒 anon!!!! (assuming it's the same person as on my other blog but if not, welcome my love!!!!) i went a little overboard…

warnings: sub!dave, mention of a mommy kink, humiliation, degradation, punishment

dave lizewski being obsessed with eating pussy is so so canon (age him up please!). once he has a taste, all he asks for is more. he's so so greedy.

he'll eat you out in a heartbeat anytime you ask. prefers that to penetration sometimes and he can come just from tasting you on his tongue, his hips rolling into the mattress or humping whatever he can find.

he lives for overstimulating you and as you said, sometimes you'll have to pull him away by his hair (which only turns him on more 😔) and he'll look up at you from wherever he is, eyes wide and pleading.

"please, miss/mommy, please. i wanna taste you more. please."

he's so desperate it's almost pathetic.

you love the power you have over him and how wrecked he becomes for your cunt.

"you want me, baby? wanna taste me that badly?"

"y-yes, yes please,"

he'll beg so pretty on his knees, his curls a mess as his cheeks burn crimson. his neck is flushed as he sits shirtless and in only his bowers, the front leaking pre-cum.

"such a good slut for me. now be a god boy and kiss my pussy for a bit. no licking. not yet. and if you disobey me you won't come for a week, understand?"

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

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FEM!READER PULLING HIS TIE!

(ft. aaron taylor johnson characters)

ask: The boys u currently take requests for and their reactions to reader pulling them close by their tie plz plz plz I'll worship you forever🙏🙏🙏

warnings: implied explicit themes

includes - in said order

~ James Potter - harry potter marauders era (yes ik it's technically a fancast but he's my baby)

~ Tangerine - bullet train

~ Dave Lizewski - kick-ass

~ Count Alexei Vronksy - anna karenina 2012

~ Tom Ryder - the fall guy

~ Pietro Maximoff - avengers: age of ultron

~ worship me forever you say? 😏 ~

• James and his parents host plenty of fancy parties at the Potter mansion. They're always fun but formal, which means, obviously, James is wearing a suit and a tie.

• As his girlfriend, he insists that your dress matches his tie. He's very very serious when he says it. Like, dead serious. He'll pout if you don't and you find it slightly annoying, if not endearing.

• During the party, you'll mingle with your friends and have a blast. You and James don't have to stay connected at the hip, but he'll always check in on you.

• You'll have a few drinks, being slightly tipsy. James is as tipsy and he'll make a joke as you stumble towards each other, your hand fiddling with his tie.

• "You look like someone hit you with a bludger," James will giggle, his words slurred.

• You'll smirk and your hand tightens around his tie, yanking him down to your height, pressing your lips onto his and savoring his taste. He tastes like the expensive cherry wine his Mum adores.

• Obviously, this turns James on and he has to control himself from ravaging you in the middle of the dance floor because that isn't very gentlemanly of him.

• Tangerine always wears his suit out. He has an assortment of suits, mostly in different shades of blue (to match his eyes but he'll never admit to that.)

• You love his suits because you find them sexy. He knows you love them so he feels ever sexier.

• "Stop starin' at me like that," he'll joke, glaring as he walks by you.

• He loves when you stare.

• Often, you'll use his tie to pull him places whenever you want him to follow you. The small gesture of dominance turning him on so badly. Tangerine is usually the one in control, but not this time 😉

• Tangerine will happily follow you like a puppy, being lead by his tie and Lemon makes fun of him, which only earns him a middle finger from his brother.

• Pull him in by his tie and kiss him? He's head over heels, he's a goner

• 100% secretly likes when you're in charge (you know this)

• "You like when I pull you around, huh?"

• He'll nod. You make him a mess and he can't bring himself to care.

• Dave only wears a suit and a tie on special occasions and so because it's rare to see him in formal attire, when you do it does always make it extra special.

• You can't keep your hands off him and he's obsessed.

• "Mm, you look so pretty, Davey," you'll whisper in his ear, your fingers gliding over smooth the material of his tie (you'd helped him tie it)

• Dave's cheeks will burn a bright pink and you'll stroke some of his dark curls behind his ear, touching where his ears have turned pink too as your smile widens. You love making him flustered!

• If you're at a school dance, you'll be attached to his hip the entire time.

• It's your fourth dance and just as the evening dies down and it's his turn to press a kiss to your cheek, missing your lips by a little.

• You'll smirk and use his tie to guide his head so he doesn't miss your lips this time. The kiss surprises him as he blushes from embarrassment and also his overwhelming love for you.

• Does Alexei wear ties or bow ties?!

• Well either way, there is always something to grab onto (😏) and because your favorite thing to do is help him dress before a night out, adjusting his cuffs and collar for example, you use it to your advantage.

• "Why do you have a cheeky look on your face, dove?" He'll ask, his blue eyes narrowing as his gaze then flickers to the mirror behind him to check his appearance.

• "No reason, my love," you whisper.

• There is a reason.

• Once you finish, you smile up at him and pull him closer, your hand wrapped around the fabric, as you kiss his lips passionately.

• When you pull away, his cheeks are flushed and he can barely form words. His hands slide down your waist and tighten.

• "Do it again, please," Alexei will whisper in your ear.

• Tom is a cocky asshole. He prides himself on always being on top. But you being his girlfriend, it comes with certain perks.

• You have him wrapped around your finger as you push him against his trailer, kissing him roughly. Tom is loving the attention as he makes snarky comments between kisses.

• You grab his tie, the one he's wearing for his costume, and pull harshly. You bite on his lip, causing a yelp from him and a faint blush to grace his features.

• "Shit," Tom groans, his eyes wide.

• You'll pull away and tighten your hand around his tie. "You like that?"

• Tom nods and pulls you in for another kiss.

• Pietro is always bouncing around, so to get him to stay still is a pretty hard task.

• You're at an Avengers party when you see him fidgeting with this tie in the corner, either anxious to leave or anxious to be here. You feel for him.

• So, you walk over and stand directly in front of him. "Are you okay, Pietro?" you ask kindly, watching him fiddle with the tie. It‘a quite badly done.

• You smile and pull his hand away gently. Pietro startles, his cheeks turning pink as he feels embarrassed. "Papa n-never taught me," he says, sounding shyer than you've ever seen him.

• "It's okay. I can do it for you," you hum and tie his tie correctly. "Why didn't you ask Clint?"

• Pietro would shrug, looking away. "I was embarrassed," he admits, looking even more embarrassed.

• He looks at you, his heart beat pounding so hard. Yours does the same, your fingers curling in his tie as you slowly pull him in. Your lips hover above his for a moment, hesitating.

• Pietro is the one who kisses you, finding his cheeky charm again as the embarrassment from the situation fades.

• "How long you been wanting to do that?" he teases.

• You roll your eyes at him, swatting his arm.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

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Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!fem!reader

Summary: When you start feeling insecure, your husband reminds you just how much he loves you.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, praising, passionate/sensual sex, kinda cock-warming, breeding kink, they already have a daughter, porn basically no plot for this one <3

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

Under the Moscow snow, the shine of Count Alexei Vronksy's blue eyes matching his army uniform is always eagerly anticipated by the women, and men, in the station.

Of course, The Count's reputation is widely known around Russia. He is a player. A womanizer. A handsome gentleman who could have an lady he possibly desired.

You had believed those rumors once and sometimes, even as you lay in bed with him now, that dainty, sparkling, promise sitting pretty on your bedside table, you wonder if there's still some truth in them.

It feels unfair to think that way now. Alexei is your husband. He'd married you, and not by force or by convenience, but because he's madly in love with you.

Since the moment you met him, he had never stopped showing you how much he loved you—so why couldn't you fully believe him?

"Alexei?" you whisper into the darkness of the room, turning onto your stomach and gently running the ends of your fingers on his chest until he stirs. You smile when he nuzzles into you in his half-asleep state and mumbles incoherent words into your hair.

"Honey," you say a little louder and lean down to kiss him behind his ear, moving his blond hair to the side. Once he feels your lips on his skin, he opens his eyes and automatically tilts his head to capture your lips in his.

Alexei kisses you and then sits up, running a hand in his curls. "What is it, my dove?" he asks gently, his voice thick and hoarse from being asleep.

"Why did you marry me?"

It sounds like an even stupider question said aloud than when you had said it in your head. Alexei must find it stupid too because he laughs, his eyes flittering. "Because I love you, принцесса (princess)."

"Yes, I understand, but why?"

"Why?" Alexei is fully awake now and his hand has found a way into your hair as he gently massages your scalp, trying desperately to soothe whatever worries you have out of your head.

"Why do you love me? What do you love about me?” It feels selfish to ask this, very egotistical in some way, but you yearn to know the answer, "Why have me when you can have anyone you wish?"

Your husband grins, "Anyone? You think so highly of me."

"It is because it is true,"

"Well, I don't want just anyone," he hums and you feel his hand slide down to caress your cheek and pull your head up so that you can see him in the dim light of the moon from your bedroom window, "I want you."

You open your mouth to ask why again but Alexei kisses you. He mumbles into your mouth once he catches his breath and says, "God, I adore your lips. I love how they're always so soft and eager for me.”

Your cheeks burn and you muffle a moan.

Alexei's hand slides down your neck and your body, his fingers trailing between your breasts and down your stomach. You're wearing his favorite silky nightgown—easy access—he likes to tease and when you remember this, you become flustered all over again.

In one motion, your husband is on top of you, his weight resting on his forearm as he looks at you with sleepy eyes and kisses your forehead.

"I love this, and this," he kisses your cheekbone, and then your nose, followed by the corner of your eye, "and this and this," he continues as you giggle and squirm.

Alexei lifts himself and smiles at you fondly, "May I?” he teases again, sliding his hand down the curves of your sides and thighs, until he plays with the hem of your nightgown. You look up at him, eyes wide and glassy—the portrait of femininity and innocence.

You nod and his hand slips under, finding what he's looking for. He smiles and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your cheek.

"I love all of you, my dove. Including this pretty pussy," Alexei smirks triumphantly as his fingers start exploring your folds. You're already aroused and you squeeze your legs around his hand as if to hide that admission of guilt. Your husband just smiles and opens your thighs again.

"No, my lovely, I want to see you," he murmurs and moves to hook his arm under your thighs as he shifts further down the bed and his breath is warm on your skin. You shiver, your breathing becoming harsh as you squeeze the sheets in your hands and try calming your harsh breathing.

"Муж (husband)!" you gasp, arching as you feel his lips on your sensitive skin.

Alexi smirks and kisses your pussy again, his hands tightening on your thigh. "Жена (wife)," he smirks and licks up your folds. "I want to worship you like you deserve," he smiles and continues to use his tongue.

He takes his time, making sure you're open and dripping for him as he licks your juices until his mustache is slick with your arousal. Alexi looks up, his hair falling in front of your eyes as he sends you a devilish smirk and licks his lips before he dives in again, eating you out like a starved man.

You whimper and moan the entire time, feeling weak as you're so close to breaking. Your hands find your husband's hair, tugging gently as your back arches away from the mattress and you let out broken whimpers. The moonlight shines on Alexei's bare back as he continues to suck and licks with fervor.

"I'm close," you whimper.

This causes Alexei to shake his head and he sits up. Your eyelids flutter and you whine at the loss of contact until you feel an all-too-familiar sensation and you gasp.

He's pressing himself into you and your eyes snap open to watch him as he does so. "I want you to finish when I'm inside you, my love. I want to fill you up with my seed. You're gonna give me more pretty children, aren't you, принцесса (princess)?"

You nod, holding him close as you feel him inside you. You rock your body in time with his, fucking him passionately as he holds you and his lips press to your ear. "You feel delightful, my lovely. Such a good little wife for me. You're all I want," he mumbles, his breathing heavy and harsh as he snaps his hips into yours.

Alexei nips at your skin, smiling as he moans, "You look so pretty carrying my child. So claimed. Claimed as mine. My woman," he chuckles and thrusts into you harder, earning small whimpers of pleasure from you, "Gonna give Klara a sibling, hmm? Gonna make our little angel a big sister for me, won't you? Make me proud? Show everyone how well you carry my child?"

"Yes," you whisper breathlessly and that's all it takes for Alexei to finish inside you with a growl, causing your own pleasure to crash over you in waves as you hold him closer. You're both panting as he collapses onto you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as his cock twitches inside you a little.

"I love you," he kisses your cheek, his hair tickling your skin, "Please, never doubt how much I love you, my love. You understand me?" His hand caresses your cheek and you hum, too exhausted to even think of arguing with him. You feel like you're in heaven. Alexei takes your silence as an understanding and looks at you as he kisses your lips.

"Go back to sleep now, lovely. It's still early," he says as it is still dark outside.

"Alexei," you murmur, squirming a little when he stays inside you but he holds your hips down so you're still.

"Just a little longer, dove, I want to make sure it works," he chuckles and makes a few slow thrusts just to fuck his cum deeper inside you.

You whine at the feeling, your pussy already sore from his size and your previous orgasm. Still, you turn your head and nuzzle into the pillows as exhaustion takes over and your husband's warmth spreads across your skin. His sweet voice lulls you to sleep with praises and his lips kiss your neck.

"You're my happiness," he whispers with a smile.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

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Count Alexei Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: You're forced into an arranged marriage.

Genre: fluff, angsty

Warnings: Alexei is kind of an asshole in the beginning, reader is from France, the daughter of a Marquis, and she is described as having hair that can be pinned up and curled (otherwise no descriptions), sexism of the time (very mild)

~ thank you anon! sorry this too forever (this was requested ages ago)!! ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

As you brush your hair in the mirror of your vanity, staring unemotionally at the girl staring back, your mother's words ring in your ear. "Love, beautiful love, can be learned, ma chérie (my love)," she'd promised, as her hand lay on your nervous knee, smoothing her thumbs over the crinkled skirt of your lavender dress, the fabric bunched up from hours of carriage riding.

"I did not love your father when I met him. Not in the beginning." Your mother smiled and continued, "But, when it finally happened—and it will for you too—I could not imagine myself without him."

And you did believe her. Up until you took your first step on Count Vronksy's estate, the sun hot and warm on your skin, you listened to your mother's proclamations of true love with attention and yearning.

You still want to believe her even now.

Your future husband's lips had felt so foreign on your upper palm, the feeling more like a courtesy than something intimate. He hadn't said a word, minus the polite greetings that frankly don't count in those situations, as he stood beside his mother wearing an oddly vacant expression. The blue shine of his eyes mirrored an ocean you imagined losing yourself in, but one you couldn't yet reach.

You suppose you should feel incredibly lucky that he didn't turn out to be some old, hideous, nobleman with crooked teeth and chapped lips. You certainly did feel lucky that the only reputation he had was player tendencies and fleeting infidelities—which your mother promised you could be dampened with time and care.

"He will be a good husband to you, mon amour (my love). Give him time."

Your mother sounded so sure, but you didn't know how much time your heart could handle without breaking.

Across the house, Count Alexei Vronsky paces his bedchamber, his white chemise hung loosely over his shoulders as he practically tugs at his blond curls. His mind races with countless scenarios and possibilities as he plays the memory of meeting you on an endless loop.

"Alexei," His mother, Countess Vronskaya, chastises as she sits on his bed, her lips pursed. "You are acting like a spoiled child. Sit down."

Her youngest son shakes his head, his voice coming out strained. "I cannot do this, Mama," he says, meaning every word. "I do not know her. I cannot love someone I do not know!"

"Love?" Countess Vronskaya scoffs, staring at him with sharp eyes, "What on earth has put that silly word into your head? And don't tell me it was your little affair from a few months ago—oh, the shame—" she fans her lace fan faster and then shuts it and abruptly lays it onto her lap.

"Alexei, love does not exist. Responsibility, on the other hand, does. It is your responsibility to make up for your mistakes and this is the solution. Marriage. Besides," she fans herself again, "You can easily have Mistresses, I am not denying you that so please, stop this nonsense at once."

"I do not want any Mistresses!" Alexei exclaims, his frustration growing.

Countess Vronskaya stares at her son with an expression of annoyance and disbelief. "Then what, pray, do you want? To bring further scandal upon this family with your childish rebellion? You will marry this girl. It is not a request but an order."

Alexei drops to his bed, his head held pitifully in his hands as he calms his breathing. He pretends he's anywhere but here, his mind focusing on how the wind against his window sounds like waves crashing onto sand.

One. Breath in.

Two. Breath out.

Three. Breath in.

"I understand, Mama," he whispers, knowing he has no choice in the matter.

* * *

One. Breath in.

Two. Breath in.

Three. Breath in.

"Maman, it's too tight, I cannot breathe," you whimper as you press a palm on your stomach, feeling slightly light-headed as the maids tighten your corset and slip over your periwinkle dress, the silk sliding over your shoulder as one hangs delicately to the side. It's a simple dress, minus the puffs and ruffles. "Beauty is pain," your mother says, nodding her head as the maids continue to dress you up.

They pin up your hair with a silver pin and wrap your neck in pearls, adding earrings to finish the look. "Charmante, ma chérie (Beautiful, my dear)," your mother admires as she stands and pushes a stray curl behind your ear.

"Il va t'adorer (He'll adore you)."

You focus on her promise as you walk down the grand staircase and enter the ballroom, which is illuminated by golden chandeliers and sparkling candles. The event looks lavish and it seems to you that Countess Vronskaya had invited all of Russian Society for the announcement of your marriage. Your stomach churns with nerves as you glance around the room. You don't know how to introduce yourself to the women who stare judgmentally from behind their fans.

Your mother takes your arm and leads you to the center, where Count Vronsky stands beside his mother again, chatting ideally with some other aristocrats. Upon seeing your arrival, he turns and you hold out your hand, his lips brushing your skin in the same fleeting manner as it had earlier.

"Good evening, Lady Y/l/n," he says, looking you over and you wonder if you look unpresentable from the way he's staring. His gaze then shifts to your mother. "Marquise Y/l/n."

You smile up at him. "Good evening, Count Vronsky," you say and then smile at his mother, "Countess—" You swallow your words when she sees your dress and her frown deepens.

"What is this?" she asks with a hiss, her voice low. Alexei tenses from beside her.

"I beg your pardon?" you whisper, eyes wide with confusion as your mother's frown deepens.

"Your dress. It isn't suitable for an occasion like this," Countess Vronskaya almost snarls, looking around the ballroom and then her eyes land on you again. "You look positively underdressed!" She sounds completely taken aback and almostdisgusted as she looks you up and down. You feel stupid and exposed, hearing her tell you this in front of your future husband. You don't dare look at him.

Your mother takes the fall. "I didn't know this wouldn't be suitable for this occasion, Countess Vronskaya. In France—" The Countess sends her a dirty look, clearly having no patience for any explanations.

Your mother exhales, "I assure you, Countess, the fault lies with me. I misjudged the attire. I apologize for my mistake," she says with a forced smile, pushing on your back to move you closer to Alexei—who still hasn't said a word. "Our children should have a dance, shouldn't they?"

You look up at Alexei, your chest tightened as you make eye contact. Countess Vronskaya doesn't seem pleased but she nods and Alexei holds out his arm, his lips still shut as he stares in front of him.

You hesitate but take his arm as he leads you onto the dance floor and begins the dance, his hand around your waist. You try to remember the moves and once you're finally comfortable, the dance is suddenly over.

"I–"

Alexei interrupts you with yet another chaste kiss to your hand and then he spins around, his posture as composed as it always is. He excuses himself and walks to make conversation with other guests, leaving you all alone.

You stare at him, blinking back tears. How are you supposed to love him if he won't even talk to you? You feel hopeless as you stand there, feeling stupid and lonely in your dress.

So lonely.

* * *

Alexei's knee bounces impatiently as he waits. You're over thirty minutes late. None of your maids have seen you and neither has your mother. His mind flashes back to last night; your pretty smile, the sound of your voice and the curls in your hair—the ones that had gotten slightly messy with the constant movement of your head. He feels a tightness in his chest.

Where are you?

The thunder cracks outside, the rain pouring against the window of the parlor. It's a dreadful day and it only creates a pit in his stomach at your disappearance. Something is wrong.

"Should I fetch your mother?" One of the maids asks timidly when, ten minutes later, you still haven't shown up. Alexei takes a breath and shakes his head, he stands and holds his head in one hand.

"No need, it's fine, I'll—"

He's interrupted by the sound of a familiar neigh-ing outside the window. His head snaps around and his eyes widen. "Frou-Frou?!" he gasps, seeing his horse out in the rain. His eyes widen even more when he sees familiar hair blowing messily in the wind and rain, covered only by a flimsy cloak.

He stands and runs outside, ignoring the calls from the confused maid. All he can think of is Frou-Frou and you. Frou-Frou doesn't do well with strangers and Alexei knows that the slightest jerky movement could startle him and he could unintentionally hurt you. You. Why would you steal his horse? In a thunderstorm no less?

Are you running away?

"Y/n!" he screams into the yard. You're approaching the fence but Frou-Frou's never ridden outside of the manor without him. Alexei breaks into a run and curses when Frou-Frou makes a jerky movement, kicking you from his back as you scream. The rain is blurring Alexei's vision now as his white shirt becomes soaked. His hair is sticking to his forehead as mud from the grass sticks to his boots. You've fallen into the mud and grass, your skirt heavy under the extra weight of the rain.

Seeing him run up, you try to stand to run but the mud slows you down and you fall again. Frou-Frou panics from the rain and the situation and he runs off. "Damnit," Alexei curses, hesitating. He knows Frou-Frou isn't going to leave the grounds without him, so he turns and grabs you under your armpits. "What is wrong with you?!" he hisses as thunder cracks again. You kick your feet, mud splattering his trousers and Alexei's chest tightens when he sees the tears in your eyes.

"Don't touch me!" you hiss, hitting him as you try to stand in the mud.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded, pulling you upright. "Were you attempting to flee?"

"Why should it concern you?" you spat, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

"Because you are my betrothed!"

"And you do not love me," you hiss. Your heart is thumping and you hate how pretty he looks, wet and disheveled. You hate how your heart reacts to him in ways you're sure his doesn't when he looks at you.

Alexei groans, his head already hurting from this entire situation. He just holds you tighter. "You are correct—I do not know you well enough to claim such feelings for you. But I do not wish to see you harmed, running recklessly into a storm! My God, you already drive me mad! How am I supposed to tame you?"

He sighs, his voice drifting when he realizes he's said the wrong thing as your expression twists into one of pure anger. You hit him with your palm, mud flying into his hair.

"Tame me? Is that how you see me?"

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that," he tries to explain, shielding himself as he keeps his hold on you. You're so different from when he'd met you yesterday when you'd been on your best behavior— he groans when you pull away, only to slip and fall.

You shriek when he falls over you, the rain still pouring on you both. It's almost comedic now, your dress and his chemise a mess of dirt, mud, and rainwater. "Lady Y/l/n, please," Alexei tries again, struggling to get you to listen to him.

Once he's leaning over you, his knees digging in the dirt as he holds your hands beside your head, he whispers; "My darling, please, you misunderstand me."

You're breathing heavily now, your gaze intense.

"I do not love you, but that doesn't mean it has to be like this our whole lives," he whispers, not sounding quite like himself. He lifts one arm, finger gently tracing your cheek as he slides the mud away. "It does not mean I want to see you hurt, running off in a storm with my horse."

You calm your breathing and when you move to sit up, he does the same and you both catch your breaths. The rain is soaking you both, the cold air chilling your skin, and you watch him. He doesn't look as distant anymore. His skin is smeared in mud and his blond hair is askew. You push some wet strands of hair away from your eyes, half wishing he would have just let you run away.

As the storm begins to calm and the rain softens to a gentle drizzle, Alexei's breathing is calm.

"I did not mean to frighten you," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "I just—I feel so out of place. As if I don't belong here. As if I don't belong with you in your world."

His expression flickers, and for the first time, you see a vulnerability he's been keeping hidden beneath his polished exterior. "Do you think I don't feel the same?" he asks quietly, his voice raw. "I have spent my life pretending to be the man everyone expects me to be. I have never been what anyone truly needs. I am not fit to be a good husband."

The honesty in his words sends a sharp hurt through your chest. "Then why chase after me?" you ask, your voice shaky. "Why not let me leave if you feel the same way?"

Alexei hesitates, then with a deep breath, he moves a little closer, his eyes searching yours. "Because," he begins, "when I saw you out here, stubborn and fearless in this storm, I realized something. You might be the only person brave enough to truly see me. And if I let you leave, then I would regret it until the day I die."

The rain has nearly stopped now, the storm's fury replaced by a stillness that feels almost unreal. You're unsure what to say, your chest tightening with the weight of his confession. For a moment, neither of you moves. The distance between you feels both vast and insignificant, the air thick with something that will probably remain unnamed.

Then, almost tentatively, Alexei leans in, the lips that had barely let themselves brush your hand, now kiss your forehead. You inhale.

"We can figure this out," he murmurs against your skin. "Together. Please do not run anymore. I can do better, for you."

You close your eyes, the weight of his words settling in your heart as you take them in. A moment passes and then you force a small smile, leaning into him as you nod.

"Okay. Let's go find Frou-Frou then," you whisper, earning a smile from Alexei. Your smile widens a little. Maybe your mother was right—maybe love could be learned. And perhaps, just perhaps, it could start here.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

Text

Count Alexei Vronsky x fem!reader

summary: Your brother's best friend finds you in a compromising position.

warnings: age gap (19/24), sexism/society rules of the time, masturbating, mutual masturbation, being caught, dirty talk, pervy!Alexei, reader is very innocent and Alexei is not innocent ;)

KINTOBER MASTERLIST

You didn't really understand these emotions coursing through you. Those feelings that would cause your cheeks to burn and that unquenchable ache in between your thighs to worsen. A girl from your etiquette class, the one who was known for being more mature than most girls your age, had whispered to you one day that the way to end the ache is to touch yourself.

But that was dirty, you thought as you sat on the windowsill of your room, wearing your flimsy nightdress, your book long abandoned on your lap. It's late outside and the street is dimly lit so you can't make out much, but you do see the shine of his blue uniform from the reflection of the lamppost. You sit up.

Alexei's back.

He must be here to see your brother.

You pull your lip into your mouth, watching him as he walks into your home. You hold your breath, your hand sliding down to your stomach as the familiar ache returns.

No!

You stand, dropping your book, feeling utterly embarrassed. Why does the feeling always worsen around Alexei? It's wrong, he's your brother's best friend and he's older and he—

You rush to your plush bed, laying down dramatically as you fiddle with your hands and stare at your canopy. Your mind is reeling and the one image you can't shake is Alexei's eyes. How he holds eye contact whenever he sees you, and how that intensity causes you to feel like a million butterflies have found home in your insides.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing the vision from your head as your hand unconsciously slides over the material of your dress, hovering between your thighs as you bite your lip at the warmth.

This is sinful, you think, but knowing that doesn't stop you from bending your knees, bunching up your dress as you slide your hands into your undergarments. You moan at the first contact. Your eyes are still shut but your imagination is running wild.

You imagine his large hands running up your thighs. The feel of those lips on yours, mixed with the prickle of his mustache. You let out a small whine, desperately attempting to find the correct pressure to make that throbbing ache disappear.

His name falls from your lips in a frustrated whine.

That stupid wench had lied. This isn't helping.

Your stomach sinks when you suddenly hear the sound of your bedroom door closing and you shoot up, pushing down your skirt as your eyes widen and warm tears threaten to spill.

This is the worst thing that could have happened.

The man himself stands in front of the door, his eyes trained to where your hand just was underneath your dress and he's wearing a small smirk. Alexei looks up, finally shattering the dreadful silence. "You know, usually, when someone pleasures themselves like this, one closes the door."

You're frozen, feeling humiliated because the throbbing is still there and Alexei has seen everything and has heard you moan his name.

"P-please leave," you whisper, clutching at your dress.

He doesn't. Instead, he walks closer and gently pulls you up into a sitting position. Alexei's eyes look even more intense than ever and his hand finds your cheek. You look up at him, eyes a little dazed, and Alexei smiles. He wipes your tears with the pad of your thumb.

"Why are you touching yourself, dove?" he asks. He isn't a stupid man, he knows damn well why he just wants you to admit it.

When you stay silent, Alexei grins, "Is it feeling achy? Down here?" He slowly moves his hand and hand presses on your lower stomach.

"You're making it worse, Alexei," you whimper, voice trembling as you squirm.

Alexei hums and guides you down onto your back so your hair is splayed across the pillow. You obey him, your mind turned to mush from the faint pleasure you'd experienced and from Alexei's presence. He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it.

Without a word, just a small smile, he dips his hand under your undergarments to touch you. You groan, thighs clenching. You know this is wrong but you don't want to stop him. "Shh, there," he mumbles, his thumb stroking your clit as he lays down on his side next to you, watching your expressions as his other hand caresses the hair away from your cheeks.

"Oh," you gasp as he just rubs your clit, occasionally swiping up your slick slit. You turn your head, catching his gaze, and every form of decorum you had leaves you. "More. Inside?" you whine, not knowing why you want his finger inside you but you do.

Desperately.

Alexei shakes his head, a pained look on his face, "No, дорогой (my darling). You know I can't risk ruining you for your future husband. You're too good for that. Вы заслуживаете большего (You deserve better than that).

You whimper, biting your lip as you squirm and chase the feeling in your stomach by bucking your hips up into his hand. Alexei groans as he watches your expressions, his own eyes glazed over.

"Блядь (Shit)," he moans and roughly takes your hand, showing you how to properly rub yourself. Alexei sits up on his elbows, undressing as he frees himself from his trousers. You're watching, mouth open as you see him in all his glory.

"What is that?" you breathe, the ache worsening when you see his cock. It's a little red from need and something inside you feels like you should understand but you don't.

Alexei begins to stroke himself as you sense the coil in your stomach unwind at the sight. "My cock. It's supposed to go inside you but I—I can't do that—shit—I can't do that to you." His hand movements are quick and you're entranced.

"Feels weird," you whimper, eyes shutting as your own hand moves quicker.

"Let go, дорогой (my darling)." You hear Alexei's hoarse voice near your ear and you relax, letting out a squeak as your fingers become sticky from your release. "Good girl."

You hear Alexei moan but your mind is too fuzzy to even open your eyes. You can hear shuffling and the next thing you know, he's holding your arm as you sit up again. When you open your eyes you can see he's kneeling at your feet. His cock is back in his trousers and you wet your lips, blinking.

Alexei presses his warm hand to your cheek and wipes away the tears under your eyes. He knows you're confused but he also thinks it's not his place for him to explain everything. You're not his wife—

"Shh, you're okay. You did so well. I'm so proud of you," he says, his voice strained.

God, he so wishes you were his. Then he could take care of you properly. He could love you properly.

He leans up and kisses your lips, savoring the moment as his hand rests on your knee. One kiss couldn't hurt anyone, right? Once you kiss him back clumsily, he heart thumps and he stands. He pulls you up with him and wraps his arms around your back.

Alexei is so incredibly wrong. This kiss hurts more than anything because he knows he can't kiss you like this ever again. Still, he deepens the kiss at the thought, determined to enjoy this for as long as possible.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

Text

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.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

Note

Thinking SO hard about how much Yandere Dave would love to fuck his girl in front of his weird little altar to her… an act of worship on the very soul he’s devoted to in front of his collection

OOOOH GIRL ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY.

You are so so correct. Because the only way to really explain what Dave is like when he gets like this is that he’s basically a much much hornier, clumsier version of Helga Pataki from Hey Arnold. Also OBVIOUSLY he’s not a tsundere like helga is lmao. But yeah. He will carry around a heart shaped locket of your face and maybe another heart shaped pic of you in his wallet. He’s not above secretly photoshopping your faces onto wedding pictures he found online just to see what it would look like. All the porn he watches now HAS to be faceless, and he has to be able to imagine it’s you and him. If the resemblance isn’t close enough he cannot get off.

So when you have Dave, sweet sweet Dave following you around like a horny puppy trying to lick you and hump your leg, and you just… let him, it’s safe to say that his obsession just gets stronger and stronger. He darts doing your laundry (stealing your panties. And bras. And socks or tights. He gets freaky as FUCK over you), he starts throwing your gum away for you (to keep it. Maybe chew it himself to taste you) and you don’t even need a napkin or a tissue or something to spit it into. He WANTS you to spit it right into his hands. Or his mouth. And it’s one of those things you always thought was kind of gross, but now seeing how desperate and needy he is for it, it doesn’t seem THAT bad. It’s weird, sure. But it makes him really happy, and it takes no effort from you at all. So please god please, just pray that the first time you agree to spit your gum directly into his mouth like a baby bird that you don’t do it in public. Or at least make sure you’re near a bathroom or something. Because the sensation of you grabbing his jaw, spitting into his mouth, and the taste of you dripping off the wad of chewed up gum hits his tongue, he WILL be creaming his pants. Like actually cumming untouched. Eyes rolled back, whining squirming grunting, making a huge sticky mess that starts soaking through his jeans. It’ll probably take him another ten or twenty minutes of jerking off in the nearest bathroom or other private place, overstimulating himself and milking himself just because he imagines you telling him to, until he’s able to resume his daily activities of following you around and carrying your bags and stuff.

My point is, by the time you finally, finally let him fully fuck you, you’ve… acclamated to Dave’s obsessive kind of crazy a little more. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a surprise to see the literal SHRINE he has devoted to you in his closet, complete with at least two or three cum jars and LED candles so he doesn’t burn his place down. But you… kind of expected something like this. And he’s shaking, he’s on his knees, kissing your legs and stomach, begging you to step on him or spit in his mouth again or anything. He’s BEGGING you to do anything you want to him. Just as long as it’s you doing it. And at this point the obsession, the dogmatic devotion is. Kind of starting to turn you on. It’s sweet, in a weird obsessive drools if you put a finger in his mouth kind of way.

Next thing he knows, you’re letting him fuck you. Like really, really, ACTUALLY fuck you. I mean he’s going to after he goes down on you until you’re both crying. He makes out with your cunt absolutely shamelessly, licking and rubbing his face into it, kissing and smooching it like your pussy is his lover. Like he’s trying to woo his crush in the back seat during a drive in movie. And it’s working. He’s babbling things about how you’re so beautiful, thanking you over and over again, begging you to use him. And after a while you really can’t tell if he’s talking to you or some kind of personified version of you pussy. But body worship is body worship, orgasms are orgasms, and you are NOT about to complain. Especially when he’s this good at it. And for Dave??? This has gone quickly from pussydrunk to RELIGIOUSLY pussydrunk. Like this obsessive fucking actually becomes a spiritual practice to him. When he calls you a goddess, he’s not exaggerating.

#oh my #hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 4 days ago

Note

Dave Lizewski being a REALLY clingy sleeper. Like he physically smothers you in his sleep, all cute and disheveled, groaning when you move.

tbh I didn't think anyone would actually request something but I'm literally so happy someone did.So thank you!!! And I totally agree! Like- when you try to get up because you need to pee or something and he just squeezes you tighter and grumbles something incoherent- I need help,I am so down bad for this man.

P.S - sorry if it's bad,this is my first fic. :')

Dave Lizewski x reader

Prompt: fluff

Warnings: None.

Summary: After a long night of patrolling,all Dave wanted to do was to take off this suit,take a warm shower and curl up under the blankets with his amazing partner; you.

Dave huffs softly as he trudges along the New York City streets,his body tired and heavy feeling.He swore if he even sat down somewhere he'd probably fall asleep- Hell,he could probably fall asleep while he was still walking.But as he keeps going,he spots a familiar white mailbox with hand-painted flowers on it,and he immediately smiles.

He walks a bit faster now,though it was still a bit sluggish.After a moment he makes it to the side of your house where your bedroom window is.He gently knocks on the glass,his lips curled into a smile as he watches your head turn towards the window and your lips curve as well.

You look up from your homework from today at the sound of tapping against your bedroom window.You smile as you see the familiar green wet-suit paired with that adorable smile you love oh so much.You stand from your desk and make your way over to the window,opening the curtains wider before sliding the window open and moving out of the way so he can climb through.

"Hey,Davey." You say as he crawls through your window.You shut the window after he's in,making sure that the curtains are closed completely to keep Kick-Ass's true identity a secret,before turning to him.

"Hey,baby." He says as he takes off his mask and sits it on top of your dresser before opening a drawer,digging through it.

"I'm gonna go take a shower,okay?" He says,looking at you as he moves over to the bathroom door in your room,placing his hand on the doorknob.He watches you nod before heading into the bathroom.

You smile more as you sit on your bed,watching as he rummages through your clothes to find something big enough to fit him the way he likes.After a minute or so,he grabs a pair of your sweatpants and one of your t-shirts.Well,it was his shirt that you had stolen the last time you were at his house.Not that he cared though.

After a while,he emerges from the bathroom,freshly clean and smelling of your body wash.He frowns a bit when he sees you sitting at your desk again and walks over to you.He leans down and wraps his arms around you,burying his face into your neck.

"I'm tired.." he says,his voice slightly muffled from your skin.

"Go to sleep then." you say as you continue to write stuff down on your paper,leaning into him a bit.

He shakes his head slightly before lifting his head so his nose nudges against your cheek,his eyes half-lidded.

"I want you to go to sleep with me though.." he says with a slight pout.

"I have to finish my homework." You say,your eyes still on the paper but the feeling of him against you,holding you,is starting to get distracting.

"Please?" he pleads softly as he looks at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes.

And with that,your a goner.Who could say no when he asked oh so nicely?

A few hours later,your eyes crack open,your mouth dry.You blink a few times,letting your eyes adjust to the darkness before looking down.Dave is still dead asleep and his limbs are wrapped around you like a koala,his face buried in your chest.

'Cute..' you thought with a small tired smile before trying to pull away from him to get up and get a glass of water,but he tightens his arms around you with a soft groan,grumbling something incoherently in his sleep as he nuzzles his face deeper into your chest.

You try a few more times,but each attempt has the same reaction from him.You try one last time,and this time he moves so he's practically laying on top of you,his face buried in your neck.

"No.." he mutters softly into your neck before relaxing on top of you,slipping back into his deep sleep.

You let out a soft groan as he lays on top of you,realizing that you aren't getting up anytime soon.You wrap your arms back around him and relax,going back to sleep with Daves weight pinning you to the bed.

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 5 days ago

Photo

JOE KEERY as COLE MOLLY’S GAME (2017) • DIR. AARON SORKIN

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 5 days ago

Text

do it for me

quote: “Like every serial killer already knew: eventually, fantasizing just doesn’t do it for you anymore”

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut!! (p in v, dirty talk, etc) it’s porn with little to no plot aka mdni

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: this is self indulgence at its finest

“Hey, study partner,” you sang out, giving Dave a cheeky smile as you opened the door of your apartment.

“Hey,” he gave a polite, though slightly nervous, smile back.

You’d been paired together in your speech 101 class to complete a “group speech”. Though, at first you were certain you’d gotten the short end of the stick when you realized you were the only group of two in the class. Not to mention you got paired up with the quiet, kind of dorky guy.

It only took two study sessions for your mind to change entirely.

His dorkiness quickly became endearing, especially when you realized just how cute he was up close. His messy hair and stupid glasses were stupidly attractive. He was surprisingly jacked under all the layers he normally wore. And, god, his eyes.

If he looked at you with his eyes all wide and innocent-looking one more time, you were certain you’d end up jumping him.

All of that, paired with how cute and blushy he got any time you flirted with him, was the perfect storm: you needed him bad.

You opened the front door of your apartment a little further, allowing him inside. He shuffled just past you, dropping his bag unceremoniously in order to pull off his shoes. You leaned against the wall to observe him as he did, finding yourself watching his every move like a hawk as of late. It was hard not to. You’d certainly had enough dirty dreams in the weeks prior, leading to even dirtier thoughts guiding your hand every time you go that familiar feeling fluttering in your stomach.

You only snapped out of it when he turned to you, his cheeks flushing a bit as he realized you were watching him. Only, you weren’t so nervous. You never were one to shy away from a crush. You merely smiled at him, pulling yourself off the wall and grabbing his arm.

“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your room.

“W-what?” he blushed harder, quickly grabbing his bag as you pulled him along. “What about the… the living room?”

“My roommate is watching a movie in there with her boyfriend tonight,” you stated, omitting the fact that you asked her to occupy the space that night so you’d have an excuse to get him in your bedroom.

“Oh…”

“It’s okay. My bed’s comfier anyway. Trust me,” you smirk over your shoulder, loving the fact that you could practically read what went through his mind in that moment.

That was the other thing you found yourself liking about Dave: you could read him like a book. Any time he was nervous, he fiddled with his hands. Any time he was stressed about class, he buried a hand in his hair roughly. And any time he was thinking dirty thoughts, those cute, pouty lips of his opened slightly and his eyes got all wide and round. Not to mention, he’d suck in a shaky breath. It was fucking endearing and horrifically sexy.

And he was doing it right then.

You turned over how you’d get your way as you pulled him into your room, though you knew it probably wouldn’t be hard. He obviously thought you were hot, and you still had plenty of time to do work on the speech before he’d leave.

You let go of him at last, shutting the door behind the both of you. You then shuffled over to your bed, sliding off your slippers before you got onto your bed, kneeling on the soft mattress. You patted the spot next to you, trying not to smile at the fact that he was looking at you as if he was thinking a little too hard about something else again. After a beat, though, he obeyed.

“Attaboy,” you mumbled, just to get another reaction out of him.

He cleared his throat, settling in uncomfortably. “So… Uh…”

“So…” you tilted your head in question, leaning in a little closer to him.

“Uh…” he gulped, looking down at you as you were mere inches from him. “Uh… We’re… Our topic is about killer whales, right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, blinking your lashes at him. “Guess we gotta figure out how we’re doing it, huh?”

“What?” he squeaked out.

You grinned a little, raising a brow. He sucked in a breath when he finally pulled his head out of the gutter.

“Oh. Right. Right, yeah. How to… how to do it,” he nodded, too quickly to be natural. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head’s at.”

“That’s alright. No worries,” you smiled sweetly, resting a hand on his thigh gently.

He stiffened up physically, and you could only imagine the same happened in his pants. You squeezed his leg for a little extra emphasis.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mm… Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

He nodded a little, glancing briefly at your chest. You were in.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing up and down his leg. “You don’t need to act so shy. I don’t bite that hard.”

He blinked a few times, chewing on his lip. “I’m just… a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Well… It’s just that… I mean that, that you’re–”

You chuckled to yourself. “I’m totally fucking with you, by the way.”

“What?” he asked, his voice high pitched.

“I said I’m fucking with you,” you repeated, sliding your hand up to his crotch. “Ooh. Someone’s excited, huh?”

“Uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused, breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”

You laughed fully, moving your hand away again. He breathed out a sigh of relief, though you made sure to stop his relaxation in its tracks. You swung a leg over his hips, settling down onto his lap. He groaned, his hands grabbing at your thighs immediately.

“What are you doing?” he breathed out, clearly not protesting it.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for weeks, Lizewski. You can’t seriously be that oblivious,” you muttered before smashing your lips into his.

He let out a shuddering, whiny moan into your lips, kissing you back like he’d been dreaming of it. You hoped he had been. You nipped his lip, getting him to open up for you to slide your tongue against his. He gripped your thighs and hips, his hands greedy as they wandered over your body.

“You’re so pretty,” he gasped out as you moved your lips across his cheek and down his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You hummed happily, moving your lips down his neck. You licked and sucked at his skin, drawing out a million little sounds from his lips. You nipped at him, then sucked hard on his skin, determined to leave a mark. He moaned your name, squeezing your ass with both hands, relishing in the feel of your body beneath your thin shorts.

“Shh, baby,” you mumbled, licking over the new mark on the base of his neck. “There. Looks real pretty.” “Shit,” he whimpered, trying like hell to move your hips over his.

“Desperate,” you whispered into his ear, obliging him with a roll of your body.

He moaned softly, needy and clearly wanting more. But you wanted to see how far you could push him. You rolled your hips again and again over the obvious erection straining against his baggy jeans. You couldn’t imagine it felt great, but all the same, he wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck, his shaggy hair tickling the underside of your jaw.

“How’s it feel, baby?” you teased.

He merely groaned, staying silent for a few moments. “I… it kind of hurts. But please don’t stop.”

“Here,” you said, going up on your knees. “Pull your jeans down. It’ll feel better.”

He gulped, but quickly obliged your request. He clumsily pulled his jeans down his legs, clearly wanting and ready despite the fact that he looked like a deer in the headlights. You lowered yourself back down, grinding against him once more. He whined softly, guiding your hips with his eyes glued to where your bodies met through the fabric.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” you asked, a little amused at how excited he was.

“Only once… high school girlfriend…” he muttered in response.

You chuckled softly. “Poor boy.”

He groaned, continuing to move you over his nearly-painful erection. You kissed down his neck, leaving a few marks for him to remember you by when he went to bed that night. He continued letting soft, pathetic noises fall from his lips, practically panting at this point.

“You getting close already, Lizewski?” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.

He merely nodded, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. He breathed into your neck, chasing his release. But you couldn’t have that.

“You want more, don’t you?” you asked softly, winding your hand in his hair to give it a little tug.

He nodded his head, staring at you with a slack jaw.

“Okay, angel. What do you say?”

“P-please,” he whimpered softly.

You smiled to yourself, moving up on your knees and quickly working to shove his jeans down his thighs further. You paused, glancing up at him with a devilishly sweet smile.

“You think you can manage to pull those off the rest of the way so I can get my shorts off?”

He nodded earnestly. “Yes. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you patted his leg, then rolled off of him to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, not wanting to wait any longer.

You’d been patient for what felt like ages now, not jumping on the guy out of respect. But you were only a woman, and you could only put off your desires for so long: especially when he clearly wanted you just as much.

You kept your eyes on him as he pushed his briefs off, laying back on the bed with his chest heaving and hair messy around him. His cock was hard and ready and so gorgeous. He wasn’t massive or anything, but between the coloring and his shape, you were certain it was the prettiest you’d seen. The slightest curve pointing towards his tummy that was now partially exposed from his shirt riding up.

“Wow.”

“What?” He asked breathlessly, looking up at you with wide, wet eyes.

You smirked at his desperation. “You’re just really pretty like this.”

He whined softly, obviously trying not to look at your exposed lower half as you crawled towards him on the mattress again.

“I’m really glad we got paired up for this class,” you admitted, straddling his legs. “Don’t think I would’ve ever considered you otherwise. But now I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, his eyes falling shut. “Please.”

“You sound so sweet when you beg.”

“Please,” he repeated, looking at you in utter need, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips.

“Shh,” you whispered back to him, reaching down to stroke his firm cock. He practically squeaked, his hips thrusting into your hand. “You’re awfully responsive, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he all but moaned in response. “God, you’re so pretty.”

“Thanks, honey,” you replied noncommittally, dragging his tip through your folds to gather the slick there. He let out a shaky groan, fingers tightening on your hips.

“Wait,” he exclaimed softly, shaking his head.

You raised a brow, stopping your movements. “You alright?”

“Yeah. No, I’m… I am so good, you have no idea,” he mumbled quickly, still staring at you. “I just… I’d really like to be on top. If that’s okay.”

You chuckled, then nodded, obliging his request. You rolled off of him, laying on your back with your head in the pillows.

“Only because you asked so nice.”

“Thank you,” he said, whiny and needy as he moved between your legs. He let out a breathy moan as he slid his tip against you again. “You’re so soft. Wet.”

“I know.”

“Mm…”

He moaned, nearly looking like he could cry, as he started pushing into you. His eyes were glued to where you swallowed the head of his cock easily, brows knit together as he breathed heavy.

“God… fuck…” he whined, falling on top of you with his head in your neck, letting himself ease into you. You gasped softly when he finally bottomed out, feeling yourself gush around him. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good. So good.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, carding your hand through his hair and tugging it softly.

He lifted his head to take off his glasses, setting them on your bedside table.

“Thank you. For letting me do this,” he whimpered, his face lowering back to your neck.

He started thrusting his hips against yours slowly, sucking and biting at your neck as you felt his cock drag along your walls almost teasingly. He breathed heavily, every little needy noise like music to your ears. You ran your nails across his back, wanting to mark him and make him remember you every waking moment of his life.

“You feel perfect,” he squeaked out, his hips starting to snap harder against yours as he grew more needy chasing his release. ��I’ve had a crush on you all year. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

You chuckled breathily, his body pinning yours to the mattress as his hand gripped the sheets above your head. He moaned at every thrust, practically using your body to get himself off. Not that you minded. It was unbelievably hot to see him so desperate for you that he almost couldn’t help the way he pushed himself into you.

“I could cum inside you right now,” he moaned again, moving his head to kiss you once. “Promise I won’t. But I could… I’m so close.”

“You can cum anywhere you want.”

He groaned, kissing you again, all tongue and want. “Please… Take off the shirt. Wanna… your tits.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” he begged, whining as he kept pushing into you. “Please. I’d do anything.”

“Okay, baby,” you complied with a self-satisfied smirk, tugging at your shirt until you were able to pull it over your head. You watched him as he eyes were drawn to your breasts bouncing in your bra before you pulled that off, too.

“Oh, god…”

“You like them, huh?”

“Love ‘em,” he groaned, gripping one of your tits roughly with his hand. “God.”

“Mm…” you moaned a little, back arching into his touch. “Fuck, I’m close, too.”

“Really?” His eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. I’m… fuck, that’s so hot,” he said quickly, looking at you like you’d hung the stars just for him. “I– I’ll make you cum first. Promise.”

“Baby…”

“No, please. I wanna watch you,” he breathed out, eyes moving between your face and tits as he tried his damndest not to cum before you did.

You decided you’d be nice, just this once, and moved your hand between your bodies. You rubbed quick little circles around your clit as he kept railing you into the mattress, trying to get yourself to finish first. He whined as he kept going, squeezing his eyes shut as he clearly put in a lot of effort to hold himself off.

“You’re close?” he checked.

“Yeah. Really close. Almost there.”

“Mm…” he groaned, lowering his head and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

That did it.

You gasped, moaning his name as you clenched hard around his dick, soaking him in your release as he thrusted as fast as he could manage. Though you were left empty only a few seconds later as he pulled out, just in time to shoot his seed all over your bare chest. He groaned wantonly, stroking himself a little bit as he finished.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice high pitched and whiny. “Holy fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

He swallowed, mouth hung open as he tried catching his breath. “Uh huh.”

“You’re adorable,” you chuckled, watching as he sat down next to you, still trying to breathe normally again.

He nodded. “God damn.”

You reached for the tissues on your bedside table, wiping the cum off of your breasts as Dave fell back onto your bed in a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You chuckled at his actions, shaking your head.

“I think this makes our study sessions way more fun,” you offered after a moment.

Dave laughed breathlessly. “I think I’ll have to thank our professor.”

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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hauntedhouseofhargrove · 5 days ago

Text

Dave Lizewski x girlfriend!fem!reader

Summary: ask: Dave Lizewski smut where he's a virgin and his girlfriend shows him what 69 is and he whimpers a lot please!!

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: reader and Dave are 18/19, hints of dom!reader and sub!Dave, virgin!Dave, 69-ing, oral sex (f & m receiving), praise

~ hope you enjoy this anon <33 ~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

The mid-afternoon sun shines past your sheer curtains, your copy of Jane Eyre lays abandoned on your bedroom floor. Poor Dave looks more flustered than when he'd first arrived and you can't exactly blame him because his T-shirt is halfway up his chest, your nails scratching at his stomach as your hand finds his nipple. His glasses are crooked on his nose and you can only hear his heavy breathing as he stares at your ceiling fan.

Your other hand dips under his, already-opened, jeans and palms his dick. That elicits a squeak from him and you snap your head up, grinning. "There you are, I was afraid you'd passed out on me or something," you tease as you lean back onto your heels and remove your hands.

Dave clumsily sits up as well, hurrying to adjust his glasses as his dark curls fall over his vibrant blue eyes. His shirt falls over his stomach again and looks down at himself; he's a mess. A deep crimson blush spreads across his cheeks, over his nose, and up to the tips of his ears.

You're still dressed in that loose sundress. Mis-matched fluffy socks cling to your feet as the softness brushes against your inner thigh from your sitting position. Without wasting time, you crawl over Dave as he falls back onto your blankets, his chest rising and falling once your fingers find the loops of his jeans. "Baby—"

"Shh, no talking," you warn as you shimmy his jeans off him. There is an undeniable dark spot on his boxers and your grin widens. You move lower on the bed, your hand on his hips as you remove his boxers next. The surprise sound he makes is delicious. His dick springs free, the pink tip dripping pre-cum and you giggle. "You're so cute," you say and press a kiss to his dick.

You know Dave isn't as experienced as you are. Because of this, you've been taking things slow and you haven't gone all the way yet. Although he tries, he doesn't tend to last super long—he's so easily overwhelmed. You hold the base of his dick, licking up his shaft as you keep your gaze on him. You can't see his face very well, but you can see his breathing and you reach up with your other hand, lifting his shirt again.

Dave moans and his hands clutch the sheets. "Ah,"

You remove your mouth from him and sit up again. This time, he whines from the loss. "Baby, d-don't stop. Please." He uses his forearm to prop himself up as he looks at you pathetically.

His dick twitches with need.

"Take off your shirt, I wanna try something new," you say and wait for him to listen.

Without a word, after awkwardly fumbling with the sleeve holes, Dave removes his shirt and throws it across the room. He looks at you expectantly, his pretty eyes shining and you smile sweetly.

You crawl over him again and press a kiss to his pink lips. Dave returns to kiss with enthusiasm, his hand finding your hair as he presses you against his chest. You smile against his lips and pull away to remove your panties.

Dave watches you with heavy eyelids, his cheeks still flushed. Once your panties are off, you kiss your boyfriend again and move your lips to his ear. "We're gonna combine two moves you know very well, babe," you say and bite his earlobe just enough to cause a moan.

Without more warning, you straddle him backwards. Dave's hands rest on your hips and he instantly understands. You lean forward, your lips finding his stomach as you kiss lower and lower and lower until you're touching his cock again.

As if on cue, Dave wraps his arms around your thighs and flips up your dress, kissing around your inner thigh like a starved man. He's gotten good at eating you out and he loves it almost more than when you suck him.

You knew he would like this.

You moan against Dave's dick as he kisses your slit, burying his face into and pulling you closer to sit on him. You're almost afraid he'll suffocate but when he begins to lick, you shiver and stroke your hand up and down his dick faster. "Uh, fuck, Davey—" you groan, your kisses becoming sloppy as he sucks your clit. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and he bucks up his hips.

You take him inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as you steady his hips. Your hands are shaking from the feeling in your stomach. He's gotten really really good at this. You want to return the favor so you ignore how his dick hits your throat and continue to suck him and breathe through your nose.

"You taste so good," Dave mutters into your pussy, kissing it some more. "Fuck, I'm close. I- I can't hold it much longer. Please can I come?" Dave is whining against your clit now, the vibrations making you squeeze your eyes shut. You can feel his dick twitch and you see his legs shake. You remove your mouth with a pop and stroke him harder and faster.

"Go on, oh~ fuck~" you groan, falling forward as Dave returns the enthusiasm on your pussy. "Go–on, come for me—"

He doesn't need to be told again as you attach your lips to his tip again and swallow the ropes of cum as he groans and continues to pleasure you. His dick falls from your lips as you fall forward, arching your back. You're close as well.

As Dave recovers, he moves his hand to your inner thigh and adds some pressure to your clit with his thumb. His tongue continues to explore you and you let out a shrill cry, clutching the sheets as you come. Dave laps up your juices and lets his head fall further into the pillow as you move off him and turn around. Your legs are as shaky as his as you move towards him again, your hand on his chest as he lifts his head. Dave's chin and nose are covered in your cum and your cheeks warm up.

He looks even messier now.

You lean in to kiss him, laying next to him now as you trace hearts on his abs and continue to move your lips against his.

"What did you think?" you ask against his lips.

Dave blinks, his eyes a little glossy. He runs a hand up your back and twirls some strands of your hair between his fingers. He looks at you. Clearly, he has no coherent thoughts in his head because all he says is, "Thank you."

You laugh, "Such a good boy," you whisper, kissing him again and holding his cheek.

"My good boy."

#hauntedhouseofhargrove recs

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