nai:3

the sound of skin making contact fills the room , each thrust more painful than the last.

you shove your face into the pillow , tears soaking your cheeks. ‘nuh uh , wanna hear your pretty noises.’ ellie’s fingers curl tightly around your hair before pulling it harshly.

you mewl at the sting , whining incoherent mumbles as your eyes roll back. ‘yeah? all dumbed out on me hm?’

ellie’s free hand squeezes your hip , moving you forward n back over n over. ‘god you’re so pretty.’ she groans , releasing your hair n using both hands to slam you onto her.

‘ngh! mm- m’gonna cum- s’too m-much-‘ you feel so pathetic , already reaching your third orgasm. ‘you can take it ..’ she hums , landing a slap against your red skin.

‘agh! m-please!’ you cry , your clit twitching from the lack of attention. ‘please what hm? tell daddy what you want.’

her pace is steady , the milky ring forming at the base of her strap slowly dripping down her thigh.

‘p-please- mmph , n-need to- i’ll be good .. i- m’sor-ry . .’ ellie listens to you choke out each word , smiling in amusement. ‘yeah baby you can cum.’

your whole body convulses , whines muffled. ‘atta girl . . fuck-‘

she chuckles when she pulls out of you , watching your mess leak from your little hole.

‘did so good f’me baby. let daddy clean you yeah?’ she positions herself near your cunnie , beginning to lap at your sensitive parts. you squirm against her , yet her arms hold you down.

─── ⟢ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : when sevika casually hands you her card with a gruff, "get whatever you want," you assume there's a limit somewhere. there isn't. suddenly you're being dragged through boutique after boutique, gifted tailored clothes, sparkling jewelry, and every little thing you've ever glanced at for more than two seconds. she insists it's "just money," but you can't help wondering why she's so determined to spoil you. somewhere between shopping bags, late-night dinners, and quiet moments where her rough hand finds yours, you realize the most valuable thing she's giving you isn't something money can buy.

─── ⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : service top!inexperienced!sevika and experienced!reader lesbian sex bratty!reader sugar mommy!sevika 20 year age gap (reader is 24) sevika has her prosthetic arm, sevika only has a soft spot for reader use of pet names (sweetheart, darlin', bunny, etc) femme!reader reader is in love with sevika sevika is a big softie minors do not interact please !!

glamorous, luxurious, and rich girl are queued on the record player . listen in order for context.

content tags ; age gap , bsf’s mom!sevika , tension , kissing , pussy pronouns , rubbing , fingering , sevika is milking the fact she’s way older than you , calling her ms. sevika in sex , orgasm control , mention of spanking ~ 1.1k words

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“I only meant to ask if Mira was home.”

“Huh…” she leaned against the door, arms crossed.

You’re not sure if she’s doing it on purpose because she’s dressed in the sluttiest shirt ever, cleavage peeking out and everything. Her eyes were half-lidded like she’s either bored or amused or maybe both. You tried not to look at her inappropriately, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You feel like you’ve betrayed Mira. Her mom is too hot, you can’t resist. You’re now sitting on her lap, kissing her, your lips hungrily mushing into hers. Her hands remain on your waist, giving it the occasional squeeze to earn a needy little whine from you.

You’re wet from the kiss alone. It’s so obvious because of how you grind your hips up and down on her lap, almost as if you’re trying to hump her to get off.

Sevika chuckles softly and pulls you away from her, just to look at you. She brushes your hair behind your ear, “oh, sweetheart, aren’t you so adorable? What’s Mira going to think of this, hmm?”

cw: dom!satoru, spanking, mild degradation, slight dacryphilia, choking, creampie, not proof-read

wc: 2k

“kick his ass sensei!”

“yeah, i believe in you!” 

the cheering from your students made you bite back a chuckle as you stood before your husband in the middle of the training field. the two of you had been pushed into an unexpected position — your second years and his first years betting on who would win in a fight.

whilst you were an experienced sorcerer as well — strong and capable with a powerful technique — you couldn’t act like beating your husband was something realistic. not when your husband was satoru gojo. even though he was very clearly going easy on you (neither of you wanted to hurt each other after all) it was impossible to touch him thanks to his infinity, and as much as you were having fun, you wanted to show off a little more in front of your students. he couldn’t have the spotlight all the time after all. 

“c’mon,” you groaned through pants, a small grin still glued to your face because the whole thing really was amusing. “ditch the infinity already you coward.” 

the word hit him like a slap to the face coming from you, and like the masochist he was, his expression exploded into something dangerously amused, six eyes gleaming at you like a predator would lock onto prey, blindfold long discarded. you were putting up a good fight so far, and god was he enjoying himself. 

“coward, huh?” he snorted, releasing his infinity in the same breath and making the other students hold their breath. “fine. let’s do this fist to fist.”

“that means no cursed energy from you either~” 

it was hard to tell who struck first with how fast fists were flying and bodies were moving, your students struggling to keep up with who was doing what. what was clear, however, was how right the two of you were together. where he excelled in brute force and speed, you dominated in stealth and precision, both of you struggling to land punches on each other. 

that was when it happened. 

you didn’t have time to blink as he faked that sweep and instead grabbed you by your collar before you could gloat about dodging such an obvious attack, your body hitting the ground with a thud after being thrown to the ground face first. everyone fell silent at that, watching eagerly as you tried to get up just to be shoved back to the ground again by a large hand on your shoulder blade and his knee beside your hip, trapping you. 

“got you,” he sneered, watching as you squirmed and struggled uselessly beneath him before accepting your fate and falling limp to the ground. “i win.” 

as much as you wanted to say something smart in retaliation, the words died on your tongue the second he pressed you down with just a little more pressure, and suddenly you felt a strange heat fill your stomach. it was weirdly thrilling — both of you panting and sweaty while he practically manhandled you to the ground beneath him. your heart was racing both from the adrenaline of the fight and the thoughts swirling into your mind. he was always such a gentle man with you, so this? this was new. exciting. 

it was something you couldn’t stop thinking about even hours later when you returned home, darting straight to the bedroom to change out of your uniform. you’d been sweating in it after all. it desperately needed to be washed and so did you. 

you weren’t surprised when satoru had entered shortly after you, just as you had peeled off your shirt, revealing your bra to his already hungry eyes. he didn’t say anything at first, just placed his hands on your hips to pull you in for a kiss, huffing like a child when you pulled away. “i’m all sweaty and gross from you pushing me into the ground earlier,” you teased, making him pout.

“you make it sound so cruel,” satoru murmured. “i didn’t push you — i gracefully pinned my gorgeous wife after an epic battle.” he pulled you flush against him again and you scoffed at his words. 

“it was far from graceful. you were crushing me. you’re not exactly light you know.” satoru laughed against your lips at that, a low rumbling sound, before he leaned in to nip at your bottom lip playfully.

“crushing you?” he repeated, feigning horror. “i was gentle! delicate even — like i was handling a flower!” to emphasise his point, he fluttered his lashes at you like he was the picture of innocence itself, his heart fluttering seeing you laugh at his poor attempt at a defence. 

you leaned in to press a quick pick to his lips. “i wasn’t complaining,” you hummed with a smirk that undid him entirely — mischief masking itself behind such a sweet smile like you know exactly what you were doing to him. “is that so?” 

satoru kept his hands on your hips, walking you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed and you had no choice but to sit, leaning back on your hands as he towered over you, a thick air of tension suddenly filling the room while his eyes bore into yours. 

“if i’m being honest, i actually liked it,” you confessed, watching the way his lips twitched into a wider smirk. just thinking about it all made your stomach pool with heat. the way his big hands held you down…how easily he had overpowered you..that slightly crazed smile when you’d managed to land a punch on him earlier…

he didn’t miss the way your thighs shifted together in an attempt to relieve that familiar ache between them, his cock twitching in his pants at the knowledge that you’d enjoyed (and were most definitely turned on by) him pinning you down. that you liked his strength. naturally it went to his head. both of them 

seeing you like this — cheeks slightly flushed from just the memory alone, both of you still a little hot from earlier, and your lips parted slightly as you looked up at him — he couldn’t hold back anymore, pushing you onto the bed properly while he began lifting his shirt off, throwing it somewhere across the room. “liked it, huh?” his voice was half growl, half teasing lilt, but his eyes were intense, a sign he wasn’t just joking around anymore. the boner he was sporting further affirmed that, brushing against your thigh when he leaned in to press hungry kisses to your jaw, grazing you with his teeth just to hear you make those pretty noises for him. 

his breath was warm against you, fingers reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra so he could feel every inch of you. he lived for the way you whimpered when his lips wrapped around one of your already pebbled nipples, groaning at the salty taste of your skin. if anything it turned him on more. “toru…” your body arched up into his without thinking, breathy and needy. 

“what is it baby? what do you need, hm?” he released your nipple just to meet those eyes of yours staring down at him with raw want. “want it rough…please?” 

and god, how could he say no to a request like that? especially after finding out how much you’d like it earlier when he got a little rough with you. without giving you any form of a warning, he flipped your over onto your stomach, manhandling you so that you were in a prone position with just your ass lifted up a little for him. a gasp left your lips when he tugged your skirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him so he could see your panties, along with the clear wet patch you’d left on them. 

“you sure you can take it?” satoru jeered, a final sort of warning so you couldn’t say you didn’t know what you were getting into asking for this. at your desperate nod he reached for the waistband of those black panties, tugging on them until they ripped off of you, making your breath hitch.

“it’s your funeral~” 

and he really wasn’t joking. 

you hardly knew where you were or even who you were at this point. all you knew was that his hips were ramming into you without mercy, ignoring your whines and the way you were clawing at the sheets beside you. satoru had a hand gripping your hips tightly, nails digging into the plush skin there as he held you down, making you take it while he grunted above you. his other hand was tangled in your hair, keeping your face flat against the mattress where you were already drooling. 

“ah-ah, no running,” he tisked, an almost cruel lilt to his voice when he felt you squirming beneath him. he was pounding into you with a pace so relentless you could hardly form any thoughts, let alone beg him to slow down. “you wanted this didn’t you?” still, you tried to say something. a plea for…well..you didn’t really know what it was you wanted. either way it didn’t matter because the moment you tried lifting your head to talk he had shoved your face right back into the sheets, making you moan. 

“fuck, you’re so filthy,” he groaned, feeling how your walls squeezed him tighter after that. your body alone told him everything. how much you were enjoying this. “you love being treated like this, don’t you? being held down and manhandled..” the broken whine you let out made his hips stutter for a moment, head tipping back with another groan because this was so fucking hot. 

a loud crack filled the room as he let go of your hair to deliver a slap to your ass, an action that made you jerk slightly in surprise, even as another moan was dragged out of you at a second slap. “god, i’m gonna ruin you,” he growled, clearly getting as carried away as you were, a large hand splaying across your lower back, pulling you back against each of his thrusts. 

tears began to fill your eyes from just how good, yet how overwhelming everything felt — his cock stretching you out and hitting the deepest parts of you that only he could reach. each dirty grumble of his as he made you take everything. the desperate need to cum already. “don’t cry baby,” he cooed, but you knew better than to think he was serious. “you can take it. you will.” 

and something about him saying it like that, like he would make sure if it, had you mewling like a stray cat against the sheets, fingers digging into the fabric with such force he almost wished you were marking up his back with those nails instead. “gonna fill this pussy up…fuck, you want that right?” 

both hands slid up your back until they reached the back of your neck, wrapping around it with just enough force to keep you pinned down and restrict some of your air flow, but nowhere near enough to really hurt. as much as he was getting off on this power play he didn’t feel like harming his wife. “you’ll take it all for me, won’t you?” 

the noises you were making were sinful as you neared your orgasm, legs shaking slightly as he began to speed up his pace, groans being pulled from his throat more frequently now, and you could tell his orgasm was approaching soon too. a few more strokes was all you needed before you were crying out in pleasure, clamping down around him as you saw white. it was intense and dizzying, hitting you so suddenly and causing your whole body to jerk while satoru continued to grind into you until he found himself cumming too. 

you were too tight, too warm, and with a final, deep thrust he was spilling himself inside of you. filling you up just like he said he would and leaving you lying limply against the bed as you tried to come too. you hadn’t even felt him collapse on top of you until he was peppering kisses down from the back of your neck to your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings. 

you were utterly spent and probably close to passing out, but god did you love it.

i love gojo so much idc

sevika p!links!

sevika just had to have you after work⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

date in the park⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

using sev’s cock in the middle of the night⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

smile for the camera⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

you’ll ride her fingers like a good girl, won’t you?⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

sev loves seeing you in missionary⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

touching you after a night out⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

she’s in love with that creamy pussy⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

her favorite meal⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

the videos you send her while she’s at work⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

she always puts you to sleep like this⋆˚࿔ᝰ.ᐟ

the princess speaking .ೃ࿔: okay guys i know i took a big ass hiatus and i’m sorry !! school and a relationship has been fucked up but i was on my other account ! i will be back with some more material so go easy on me ! see ya later burner babes !! ᯓ✦∘˙

© 2026 ankhprincess . all rights reserved .

no reproduction, translation, reposting, or AI use (including feeding into AI platforms or bot creation) is permitted without my permission .

art by @/ClaraDeArte

You wished that this moment could last forever.

It sounded like a cliché, a phrase you had heard a thousand times in romantic movies that usually felt too sweet. However, this was the first time you truly felt it with such sincerity.

Your girlfriend placed a tender kiss on your forehead, her hair gently brushing against your face and causing a soft tickle. Your combined breaths, still hurried from the ecstasy of the moment, slowly began to find a calm, synchronized rhythm. You could smell the scent of shared warmth in the air, mixed with the intimacy of the room.

"Are you alright, my love? Do you need anything?" she asked softly.

Her touch against your cheek was incredibly gentle, contrasting with the intensity of just a few minutes prior, when she had made you beg for the strap-on. You closed your eyes and shook your head, simply enjoying her presence. You caressed her knuckles just to reassure yourself that she was truly there.

“You did so good for me, darling,” she praised you. "That's my sweet girl."

With immense tenderness, she began to kiss every part of your face, moving from your cheeks down to the sensitive spot on your neck.

"Violet..." you scolded her, playfully pushing her away. "Have some self-control."

"Mmm..." she sighed, burying her face in your chest. "How do you expect me to do that when all of this..." she added, giving you a quick squeeze to your butt "...is mine?"

You rolled your eyes affectionately and ran your fingers through her pink locks, feeling as though you were truly made for each other.

"I cannot wait to make you my wife," she murmured, more to herself than to you, without moving away from your body.

"Wife?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "You will see, it will be the most beautiful proposal in the world."

You let out a soft laugh and wrapped your arms tightly around her.

“Yeah? I want to see you trying”

"You will, my dear," she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep.

There would be plenty of time in the future to daydream about tomorrow. For now, you chose to enjoy the present, while your girlfriend listened to the steady beat of your heart, and you savored the scent of her favorite shampoo in her hair.

After asking Dave for a break, Kick-Ass comes to your window after a week?

dave lizewski x female reader

genre: slight hurt/more comfort, smut; 18+ MINORS DNI

wc: 3.5k

sexual content warnings: making out, biting kink, breast play (it’s dave.), slight blood kink, marking kink, hint of jealousy, lying down 69, oral (m&f receiving), he calls reader Ma’am and God, Dave doesn’t wear boxers with the Kick-Ass suit, cumplay, cum swallowing (both parties!), implied p in v. warnings: f!reader, college!reader, college!dave, implied cheating, reader asks for a break, dave cries and asks for forgiveness, he didn’t cheat, hit-girl mentioned, hurt/comfort, dave loves you

i am such a self indulgent writer! 😓

__

It had been a week since you asked for a break. It tore you apart to even ask such a thing, and it wasn’t great that you weren’t being honest with how you felt. You were emotionally overwhelmed, Dave was late to get another date, and you just wanted Dave to ask why you were upset. When you said it, you regretted it immediately but the damage was done. Dave sighed and left with one last kiss to your forehead and said to come to him when you were ready.

You were exhausted from Dave being late to everything. Every date, study session, every single thing you wanted him to be there for, he was late with a terrible excuse like the traffic. He rode a bike, for Christ's sake. You didn’t want a break, you wanted Dave to be honest and find a way to be honest with him back.

You knew this wasn’t a healthy way to start this conversation, but fuck were you an emotional wreck after being hung out to dry for the 5th time this month. Your days blended together, honestly it hasn’t even felt like a full week. It feels more like you have been droning on like a lifeless office woman.

Now, it was 7 p.m., and you had your taser in your right pocket as you walked through the streets of New York to return to your shoddy apartment with three roommates. It was past sunset, and your boots were thudding against asphalt and concrete as you crossed the streets to Broome Res Hall. You shrugged everything off immediately, got inside, and trudged to your room, your house slippers scrolling on the floors.

After hanging everything up or tossing it into the hamper, you quickly showered and were out in minutes. Damp hair trickled water against your skin, and you tugged a smaller towel around your neck to take the damp instead of your sleep shirt. Your laptop and various worksheets lie across your desk, filing through them at insane speeds so you can go to bed. Your playlist of any alt-rock band played off your laptop at a loud enough volume to not hear the jiggling of your window.

A loud knock came, and you screamed at the sight of a masked individual at your window. He yanked off the mask to reveal Dave Lizewsk. Instinctively.c you ran towards the window at the sight of his beat up face. It almost distracted you from the bright green suit with yellow accenting lines. Your eyes jumped around, his bloody face, green and yellow suit, the mask in his hand, and back to his face.

“Dave- what the shit!” You shouted as you opened the window latch and yanked him inside from the fire escape. He ducked in, banging his head on the window, but ducked in nonetheless.

You purposely distanced yourself from him. You wanted to grab him and inspect his entire body for wounds, but fuck you needed space that’s what you said. A gray zip-up fell off one shoulder as you crossed your arms protectively over your chest. Your heart was manically pumping as you calmed down.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Dave whined with a crack in his voice. Finally, in the light of your room and a real chance to look at him and his attire, it clicked, You recognized the suit; I mean, every person did. Everyone knew who Kick-Ass was. Only there was blood everywhere.

“Dave… why are you in Kick-Ass’s suit?”

“Baby, please let me explain,” he begged as he walked closer. Dave was never aggressive; his doe-eyes brimmed with water, and his hands were open gently as he tried to beg for acceptance. Regardless, you took another step back. It felt like a stab to both of your hearts, and Dave knew you didn’t. The way your eyes watched him with remorse, watching blood drip from his forehead down to his cheek.

“You… your drawer still has a shirt and sweats, I’m sure. I’ll go get a first aid kit,” you said, creating the distance again.

The distance wasn’t for Dave to remember their break; it was to stop you from running into his arms and holding him, asking who kicked the shit out of him. The way you saw this, it was going two ways.

A) Dave was going to say he was Kick-Ass.

B) Dave was going to say he went to some convention and got his shit rocked.

You couldn’t decide which made more sense, but the inexplicable amount of times he’s had random bruises or even scarring from “old dumb things” he did as a kid made a lot more sense.

You needed this distance to pretend you didn’t want to crawl into his arms and kiss him like mad. He looked so pretty, even with his face bloodied; you couldn’t help but want to kiss him stupidly.

Returning to your room quietly with a glass of water and a warmed-up hot pocket, Dave sat at your desk, reviewing some of your math assignments. He was writing on the sides with a pencil.

“Dave?”

“Oh, sorry… I was… helping you with some of the stuff here. I know you aren’t a fan of math,” Dave said awkwardly. He set the pencil down and spun the chair to face you. It felt so typical having him back here. A swell of warmth flushed your body as you watched his bruised and bloodied face face you. You cleared your mind with a quick blink.

“Come sit on the bed. I’ll fix you up there,” you said quietly, handing him the hot pocket on a paper plate and a glass of water. Dave wore an old, shoddy navy blue T-shirt, the arm hem cutting nicely around his biceps and gray sweats. He devoured the hot pocket–a typical college kid.

He had to know those were your favorite sweats on him. There’s no way he didn’t. You tore your eyes away, took a small stool from your makeup desk, and cleaned off his wounds.

“Can I explain… please,” Dave asked quietly as you stood above him. Your hands carefully worked around his face and forehead, and the blood was still sticky as you took small alcohol wipes to his skin. Orangey-red blood smears dragged across his forehead and temple.

“Dave,” You started slowly.

“Please, I’ll explain everything. I know you wanted space, but— god, space from you felt like my world was ending,” Dave said with a slight whine. He was killing you, and he was still so undeniably cute.

“You’re Kick-Ass,” you asked quietly. He met your eyes and nodded slightly.

“Kick-Ass came out four years ago, Dave. You’re telling me you’ve been Kick-Ass since you were in high school?”

“It was dumb, and it wasn’t a lot. I took a lot of breaks because… I mean, why wouldn’t I? But you know Hit-Girl?”

“I heard about her.”

“She’s like my sister… I got her dad killed when she was like 13, so I try to be there for her,” Dave began quietly. “She came back into town and needed Kick-Ass.”

You glanced down at his eyes before tearing them away to grab out bandaids. A hum left your lips. The tone and inflection of the hum was neither impressed nor dissatisfied. You refused to be jealous of some kid, but if she was taking more of his time and priority, what? Dave could tell it was off. He was always good at that.

“It started before we started… dating-dating. Before we made it official, like the day before.”

“And you’ve been helping her this entire time but put me on the back burner?” You bit. Admittedly, your tone was a lot meaner than you intended it to be. Your eyes shot down to Dave with regret. “I’m sorry— I didn’t mean it to sound so mean. You have to understand why I asked for the break, though.”

Dave, whose eyes were watery from the proximity of alcohol to his wound and likely your comment, just nodded.

“I should have been honest from the start,” he added. “I’m sorry, I just want you back already… I was hoping a week was enough, but if it’s not—”

“Dave, I just needed time to breathe.”

“No, you didn’t. I get it. I was being a bad boyfriend,” Dave shook his head. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, but you didn’t appreciate being left behind. It was always like that, with Marty or Todd covering or giving each other a look at each other as if asking What excuse this time?

You knew you would not get anywhere if you didn’t admit your feelings. You dragged the desk chair over and sat before Dave while you put away the first aid kit objects. Your tone was quiet and meek. “I asked for a break because I thought you were cheating. I hoped you’d just rip off the bandage and call it quits.”

His silence horrified you, and you couldn’t look away from the small white plastic box. The latch wouldn't press into the receiving end to keep it closed. The plastic rattled until Dave took it from your hands, and your face met his abdomen. He smelled like sweat. Even with his suit sweat, you smiled softly into the hug. Dave took your hands while he slid down, kneeling in front of you with damp cheeks.

“I never wanted you to feel like that–baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest earlier,” he whispered. His lips kissed your knuckles, putting his freshly bandaged forehead into your thighs with a despondent sigh. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was Kick-Ass. I want to be more honest with you.”

Before you could even get to it, Dave looked up at you. His cheek pressed against your thigh with tear streaks, “I want you back.”

“Dave–”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–” Before Dave could try to stand and pull away, you took your hands from his and grabbed his face to kiss him. You pulled off and ducked your head beside his face, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Dave. I– I needed answers… I was scared.”

“Do you still want answers?”

You took your face away from him, and looked back perplexed. “You… already explained it?”

“I’m sorry I was so out of touch with you, I never want you to feel that way again. Hit-Girl has always just been my little sister, I swear,” Dave whispered.

“I—“

“I’ll do anything,” he added lastly. You smiled down at him, and pulled him to sit back on your bed. You sat beside him and pulled your arm around his shoulder to lean his head into your neck.

“Dave, you’ve explained enough. It’s okay.”

“Promise?” He hummed into your neck. He honestly fought the urge to pull you into bed and cuddle you into oblivion.

“Promise.” Dave threw himself into you more if it was possible. His arms wrapped tightly around your torso as his lips kissed up your neck to your face.

Between kisses, he input each word. “I missed you so much…” He kissed your lips, without giving you a chance to return it, he was pulling away and mumbling into your neck again. “Missed holding you and kissing you.”

“Then can we keep kissing?” You asked teasingly. You hooked your finger beneath his chin to look up at you. A small giggle left your lips as you met his eyes, he was lacking his silver wire glasses. “Can you even see when you’re in that suit? You don’t wear your glasses when you’re Kick-Ass.”

“I squint really hard all the time,” he answered with a whine.

“We should get you some contacts then, love. Or lasik,” you teased. Your fingers held his chin tightly before pulling his chin to yours to kiss him softly. Dave whined at your teasing before kissing you back.

Dave would never admit to any of his friends, or anyone else in the world that he liked sitting on your lap. It wasn’t a surprise when he kneeled over your thighs and pushed you into the bed with him on top of you. His hands felt up the edge of the gray sweater and grazed around your tummy. His lips fell from yours, instead focusing on your neck now. His hand hooked onto the zipper’s tag to reveal your chest more.

“Missed the way you smell,” he whispered before biting down into your collarbone. A loud moan of shock left your lips and your hands moved to grasp his hair.

“I heard some guys asked for your number…” Dave mumbled with his teeth in your collarbones. His teeth grazed away, nipping up your neck. His next target was biting in the soft pulse point next. When you mumbled his name out, Dave couldn’t help but bite harder. “Todd told me… it happened in your guys literature class. I almost found him myself and…”

He laughed before pulling away, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Well, I almost kicked his ass, as yours truly.”

He leaned back down, his hands tugged down the loose fabric of your zip-up to reveal your breasts. “But I didn’t, cause I’m good,” Dave added before he returned licking and kissing down your chest. “Dave…” drool leaked from his mouth slightly as he sucked around your chest mindlessly.

“Mhm..?” His hum vibrated you, your hips ground up into his sweats. He laughed again before taking one breast into his hand and jiggling it. Dave wrapped his lips around the hardened nipple and groaned around it. Your thighs squeezed together as you felt a pulse of dampness between your panties and your pussy lips.

“You're a tease.”

He took his lips off, keeping his teeth wrapped around the nipple, “I learned from you.”

He did. You taught him all of this when you sucked his cock the first few times. Weirdly enough, Dave was overly attentive to the way you sucked his cock. He loved it, watched like you were a magician. Your hands lifted his face off your breast and reached to take his t-shirt off. “Lie down,” you commanded as you sat up on your right elbow.

Dave has no issue following your command. He slinked off your waist and sat in the middle of your bed. You kneeled up and shed your sleep shirt off, lifting one knee, you trapped Dave’s thighs between yours.

You dipped down, kissing his face and doing the same pattern with him. Your teeth sank into his pulse point as he whined out, his heart rate raced beneath your tongue. A metallic taste entered your lips and you pulled away.

“Fuck… Dave, I’m sorry,” you whispered. You got ready to stand up and grab your small medical kit you left by the foot of the bed. Before you could even leave his thighs, his hands clamped down on your waist and kept you there.

A bulge made eye contact with you before Dave did. “Leave it,” he whispered.

Your lips gaped at the sight of Dave’s neck, a small bead of red trickled down. There wasn’t anything more, but his flush red face and boner told you enough. Your hands touched down his abs to the tip of his hard on, a small whimper released from your renewed boyfriend.

Leaning down beside his left ear, you taunted as you play with his cockhead through the gray sweats. “You like when I bite you Davey? When I make you bleed?”

“Yes… ma’am,” he whispered with a nod. You left his ear, hovering your head above him to give him a gentle kiss. “Mhm… my good boy aren’t you? Always so obedient, so good for me hm?”

Dave limply nodded, his hips grinding into your hand. You gave him some leeway. Taking his elastic band with you as you slid down his legs.

There were no boxers below the gray sweats. Your eyes shot up, his eyes watching you with either horror or pure lust. “Did I speak too soon, have you been bad? Where are your boxers?”

“Don’t… I don’t wear them with the suit on sometimes… It’s uncomfortable,” Dave answered shakily. You tutted, before pulling back his foreskin and licking up from his balls to his tip. You spat on his tip and sighed.

“Perhaps I should get a treat too, considering my goodboy isn’t all that good apparently,” You wondered out loud. Dave had no idea but just nodded. “Whatever you want.”

Your eyes squinted. “Ma’am.”

You smiled before getting off the bed and rolled down your shorts and lace white panties. “Those are my favorite,” Dave whispered quietly as he watched you intensely.

“Glad I wore them?”

“God I missed you,” he added with a puppy dog gaze and nod. You smiled, joining him back in bed. “God yes, please,” he whispered as your pelvis and pussy neared his face.

“Normally I prefer ma’am,” you said. Your face was towards his cock, your hand took it, letting hot spit dribble out your mouth and fall onto his tip. You finally took your seat before Dave could respond or cry. “But God works too.”

Dave hummed, his lips mumbling out. “Hold… thighs,” he said between sucking your cunt, trying to drink you dry.

“Mhm, go ahead,” you answered before lowering your lips onto his cock. He moaned as he hooked his arms around your thighs to smother him further. You groaned on his cockhead as you did your best to deepthroat him, never an easy task with him. His cock was damn near the size of your face while hard. He wasn’t thicker than normal, but his length took you out enough.

The room was full of crude slurping and sucking sounds from the two of you, thank god your roommates were out partying instead of staying in for the night. Not more than a few moments later, Dave was crying between your thighs.

“Maam I wanna cum, please please,” he cried against your clit. You waited, you entirely stopped, his cock lodged near your tonsils. Testing him to see if he remembered what you said earlier. His mind spun, feeling you gagging slightly around his tip. “Please God, please make me cum. You’re the only one who can make me cum God.”

You hummed around his cock, resuming your sucking and licking. Your hand jerked off the rest of his cock you couldn’t reach. “God, yes I love you,” Dave whimpered as his thumb made contact with your clit. His tongue ravished your hole, it felt constant but so fast that time was blurring together. Your hips ground into his face slightly with moans around his cock as you neared completion.

“Mhm.. Dabbve,” you hummed around his cock.

“Can I cum, god please?” his voice asked small as he fingered your clit with his thumb. “Please God, I know you’re close I can feel it.”

“Come on, Dabbve, come for me,” you responded with his tip in your mouth. You sucked down again, lodging him in your mouth near your throat as you squeezed around his tongue one last time. Cum spilled down your throat, you did your best to make sure it wasn’t at an awkward angle that would make you choke. Your mouth was full of cum, and couldn’t keep taking it all. You pulled off and sat beside Dave, your thighs shaking from spending so much time bent over his face.

“Fuck…” Dave whispered, cum still trickling down his softened cock. You sigh heavily, cum was also down the side of your lips. You leaned over, kissing his lips softly, exchanging some of his cum with him.

“Babe,” he groaned as he took some down his throat.

“You deserve it,” you said with a wink. You took the rest from your lips and dragged it across his nipples. “I just came like a water fountain, and you’re trying to fuck me again?”

“What— did you not jerk off this entire week?” You asked as you laid beside him. He sat up and shook his head no with an embarrassed smile. “Why do you think I came in like 3 minutes?”

“Cause my head game is wonderful?” Dave giggled and leaned down to kiss you softly.

“It is,” he replied. The taste of each other on your lips as you swapped spit. It was slower now, softer, but still messy with all the liquids on their faces. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you two kissed, happy flits of moans left you both.

“I love you,” he said into the kiss. You responded the same, with a large smile before giving one last big smooch to his lips. He pulled you by the waist to lie in front of him. “Please… God, can I have more of you?” Dave begged as he leaned to close the space between you. His needy eyes made you warm, and your pussy swell with warmth.

His cock was hard against your lower tummy. You couldn’t believe him, it’s like he was still a high school freak who jerked off three times daily.

“Fine.”

the nerd boy that is in my mind, btw:

Contents :: Nsfw, smut, semi-public sex, car sex, college au, footballer!vi, vaginal fingering, nipple sucking, oral sex. For this. minors do not interact. 1.9k words.

The second the whistle blew and her teammates let her go, Vi immediately jogged over to you. Sweaty and out of breath, but that didn’t stop her from wrapping her strong arms around your waist and lifting you into a hug with a big smile on her face due to the red 2-1 that lit up the board.

You squealed, throwing your arms around her neck to not fall despite knowing that Vi would never drop you. “Vi!”

Vi let you down slightly until your feet touched the fake grass again, pulling you closer and attaching her lips to yours in a heated kiss. She ignores the wolf whistles from her teammates watching behind her, instead shoving her tongue in your mouth making you pull back away from her.

“Vi,” you slap her arm lightly, “We’re in public!” You look past her shoulder at the stands filled with people and the players still roaming around on the pitch. Some decked in white with massive smiles on their faces, others in red and kicking the ground.

Vi laces her hand through yours. “Let’s get out of here then.” She says, her mouth ticking up at the corner as she starts walking backwards whilst looking at you with a mischievous look on her face.

“Vi—“

“C’mon,” Vi tilts her head towards the car park, that small smirk of hers slowly making you give in.

he knows he’s in the wrong for holding prejudice against the guy. he’s kind and sweet, everything you need in a boy really. and that’s what pisses satoru off the most.

because he swears he’s got a better kiss, a hotter touch and a better fuck — despite the two of you never sharing intimacy. satoru knows what makes you feel good, he’s memorized your routine of when you’d whip out your toy and use it on your needy cunt. you'd first use your fingers to stimulate your clit, then you'd bring the vibrator close to your entrance and with one muffled whimper, you'd stick it right in.

bad decision on your part for agreeing to be roommates with him. but you swore to your boyfriend he wouldn’t try anything weird, that wasn’t like satoru.

but he couldn’t help it when his sweet girl’s boyfriend wasn’t pleasing her like she needed to be.

he’d listen in late at night, your forced moans and the slight sound of your headboard banging against the thin wall. satoru focused on the way you whimpered. they were nothing like the ones that spill out of your pretty lips when you touched yourself. and the time you spent having sex could be counted as just a quickie and nothing more from how fast the guy came.

poor you, your guys dick was useless. satoru heard your boyfriend say goodnight before the front door shut close. he must’ve left already. the bastard probably left you high and dry again.

and satoru wasn’t going to continue being a ‘bystander’ to such thing.

the sound of his bedroom door opening startled you, making your body that was only covered by your t-shirt and a sad excuse of panties, jump. “oh! satoru, can’t sleep?” you asked, tugging down your shirt so he wouldn't be able to see underneath. but it was far too late for that, satoru had already spotted the wet spot in the middle.

his heart was beating like a teenager who found out that porn sites existed. even in the dark, you could tell his bright eyes were raking over your disheveled image.

maybe it was the ovulation speaking, but for the first time ever your best friend was attractive. his chest was bare for you to see, pink pecks hardening from the cold air, beauty marks littered everywhere.

"not when knowing that you haven't been able to cum, no."

your eyes widened, not knowing if your stomach was sinking into your ass of embarrassment or it was butterflies causing a ruckus in there. "sorry?"

"I said," he leaned down. "I can't sleep knowing that your shitty fucking boyfriend isn't making you cum."

you loved your boyfriend, of course you did. so why were you letting your best friend be the one to slowly caress your thighs like this? a deep hum came from satoru, knowing exactly how you were feeling at the moment. "relax gorgeous, he won't know."

you couldn't count the amount of times you had argued with him about satoru though. he thought it was mad weird that you lived with another guy, but it wasn't just another guy. it was satoru, your satoru. the friend that has been by your side forever, long before your boyfriend showed up. he had to understand wether he liked it or not.

but at last, his bigger fear became reality.

"are you wet because of me?" he tilted his head, waiting for your answer. his fingers came to a stop at the lace of your panties, making you whine in frustration. "yes.." you nodded.

"thought so." satoru hooked his fingers, sliding down your undergarment in a swift motion. he wasted no time in rubbing his thumb on your clit. your body arched off the bed, hand reaching out to grab his wrist. "we can't! g-gonna get caught!"

"so what? you dont want me to touch you? don't want me to see you panting or choking over my cock? I'm your best friend baby, ive gotta help ya out.. ou just have to give me the okay to do so."

and of course, who were you to reject an offer like that.

"okay." you whispered. "okay what?"

"I want you to make me feel good."

at your admission, satoru crashed his lips onto yours, forcing his tongue practically down your throat. his fingers had made their way inside you, curling just right and prepping you up for his dick. "you look so pretty right now..so so pretty." his messy white bangs stuck onto his forehead, head moving down to make it possible for him to bite at your neck.

he had to leave some sort of evidence.

his fingers sped up causing obscene wet sounds straight out of a porno. he could feel how close you were getting to fall apart just over his fingers alone. and satoru felt proud that he was the one making you cum so easily while your boyfriend struggled with the real thing.

"satoru, fuck!"

"that's what I'm trying to do sweets." he grinned, lips trailing down your jawline. "come on, you can cum." your walls clenched at the final push of his words and the graze of his fingertips in one specific sensitive spot. "oh my god!" you screamed, hiding your face into his neck as you squirted.

"...holy shit." satoru gasped at the sudden flood around his fingers, dripping down onto his hand and bedsheets. your body still trembled, and he paused his movements to just watch in awe.

"that's not what I expected.. but fuck, did you know you could do that? of course you didn't hm?"

"n-no.."

satoru's cock was painfully throbbing in his sweats, begging to be let out. with his soaked hand, he pushed the pants down enough to release his full length. he was easily nine inches, maybe ten if it wasn't heavily being weighted down. nothing like somebody else.

then, with a slap of his tip at your entrance, he pounded right in. "do it again. squirt like the whore you secretly are."

hurt/comfort

more like this

You ‘hate’ many things. The way muddy water collects at the cuffs of your jeans, the smell of something sweet when you’re already nauseous, when somebody takes the last thing you wanted from the bakery and you have to order your second option as your coffee gets cold.

You don’t really hate any of them, not truly- they’re just inconveniences, they spark a vehement dislike at most. You use hate as a throwaway word, then, as a hyperbolic description, something to laughably attribute to minuscule issues that tend to cause a headache, or at the very least an annoyed sigh from your lips.

But there are some things you do hate. Unequivocally, things that no amount of exposure could ever somehow desensitise yourself to. Being yelled at is one of them. It’s something leftover, lodged deep inside you; originating from somewhere blurry in childhood memories, maybe it has something to do with a teacher shouting at your class when you felt it was aimed at you, your little notebook trembling in your littler hands. Or perhaps an inherent, childish fear of loud noises and the angry people that come with them. Shattered glasses and broken promises.

Now you’re older, now you have autonomy over how people get to make you feel, you prefer to talk it out.

But that’s exactly what you aren’t doing with Gojo right now.

“You aren’t listening.” He says frustratedly, running a lax hand through already messy hair. His wedding band shines dimly. The light in the kitchen flickers as he keeps pacing. “I asked why it was bothering you so much and you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not lying, Satoru.” You say, massaging your temples. “Why do I need to have an excuse to want my husband back home? Isn’t me wanting you here enough? Isn't it?”

He sighs from where he’s stood on the opposite side of the living room, the couch between you a physical barrier and a cruel reminder, an emotional wall embodied and decorated with cosy throw cushions. “You don’t understand. I have to keep going wherever they tell me to-“

You fold your arms, hugging yourself in the way you wish he would as Gojo keeps speaking, slowly feeling more and more and impossibly more tiny and belittled as he inadvertently berates you. Finally, he pauses to take a breath, cheeks warmed from speech, and you quietly pipe up, voice nervous.

“I know how you feel, toru-“

“No, you don’t!” The outburst is sudden and out of character for your husband; the raised volume of his voice coupled with the expression on his face- angry, hurt, brows pulled taut in annoyance- prods at a very small part of you that makes your vision swim. And the lamp in the corner blow out, which frightens you more than you'd care to admit.

“Oh. O-okay.” Your voice cracks then, and you curse yourself internally. “I’ll… just leave you alone.”

Don’t let him see you cry, don’t let him see you cry, please don’t let him see you cry- it’s the mantra repeated in your head, rattling and screaming from ear to ear as you quietly pad your feet across the floor to the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as humanly possible. It’s stupid to think Gojo would yell at you over making any sound, but you’ve reverted back to your original settings and now-

“Okay, okay, okay-“ you whisper shakily to yourself, voice wavering as you fumble with the bathroom lock. Your eyes sting as it clicks into place, lashes blinking furiously while you slump against the door; but at least now there's a barrier stopping him from seeing, from knowing, from acknowledging, and you've always been able to retreat into yourself when things get like this.

Sobs leak out of you messily, uglily, short little gasping sounds that feel like individual gut punches every time you try to heave in another breath. The tears stream down your face, leaving glimmering tracks in their wake you don’t even bother wiping away; the tiles beneath your socked feet feel too slippery for comfort- the socks on your feet were an anniversary gift. It feels like a bad joke.

Slowly, against the smooth surface of your bathroom door, your back begins to curl. Your spine stretches into a curve, face searching to plaster itself to your drawn up knees- you don’t even remember adopting that position, something so infantile, the pose of somebody desperately seeking comfort.

But how can you feel comforted, when the person who’s supposed to offer salvation is the reason you’re seeking it?

“Hck-“ the sobs come messy now, muffled and heaving breaths that come up short and wrack your body of oxygen. You thought Gojo knew you hated yelling, how it makes you shut down and spiral, how it always ends with you curling in on yourself like a child while your eyes burn; or maybe he was just treating you like an adult, and it's your own fault for being so pathetic.

In the living room, Satoru Gojo is losing it.

He’s stood frozen, a statuesque figure posed with feet sinking into a cosy rug he doesn’t feel. He does know you hate shouting- despise it, in fact- so how could he?

His fingers twitch at his side like he wants to reach for you, but he can’t- he can’t tug you to his chest and whisper apologies, or gently kiss your forehead- because you aren’t even in the room, you left after he crossed the one line you drew out for him.

When he knows you hate it, when he’s known since the early days of your relationship; he’s known since you stood before him dressed in white, vowing to stick with him.

You’d cried then because of him, as pretty as ever, but the tears were tracing the lines of your smile instead while he slipped the ring onto your finger.

Suddenly, Gojo feels rather sick with himself.

And then his hypersensitive ears pick up on it- one loud, cracked sob, emanating dully from behind the locked bathroom door. His stomach pangs; he doesn’t need Six Eyes to tell him what you’re doing, because he already knows. He knows you’re sat against the door, crying into the palm slapped over your mouth to muffle the noises from him.

You’re crying because of him, and even worse- you’re hiding.

“Fuck.” He curses under his breath, angry at himself more than anything else- the adrenaline from the argument dissipates until he’s left feeling hollow, an empty and unpleasant pit settling in his stomach as he cautiously approaches the bathroom door.

His hand rests softly on the handle, pale fingers wavering as he speaks. “Hey, I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve stayed calm.”

You don’t reply, but the gasping eases just slightly. Progress, at least.

“I know you hate being shouted at, most people do, there's nothing wrong with you. I know you’re sensitive to it, and I-“ his voice trembles just a little, “-I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart. Please. You do understand how I feel, better than anyone, and- and I love you.”

You slouch against the door, wiping your eyes as the tears stop falling as rapidly. You clear your throat from the thickness accumulated as you cried, and speak. “Satoru…”

His head perks up at that, palm pressed flat to the door in a cliche he doesn’t even want to laugh at right now. “Yeah?”

You sniff once more, and bring yourself to twist the lock as you shift across the floor to rest against the side of the bathtub instead. “Come in.”

Gojo does as you permit him, gently and softly. When you lift your face to look at him in the light, his heart almost breaks clean open. You look wrecked.

“Oh, baby…” he whispers, cupping your face gingerly and waiting for you to lean into his familiar touch. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You curl into his arms on the tile, letting them wrap around you as he buries his face into your hair and breathes you in; you ground each other, hands soothing unsteady heartbeats.

You sniff, blinking away residual teardrops. “I’m sorry for not understanding your -hic- side, but…” you sigh defeatedly, shoulders dropping. “Just… don’t shout at me again. Please.”

Gojo shakes his head vehemently, and tightens his arms around you, eyeing the tear stains on your face and the red rims of your eyes. He’s struck, then, by something- how many times have you done this before?

How many times have you locked yourself away and cried, noises ringing in your ears, as yells come from people who you just wanted to calmly talk with? Gojo hugs you again, thumb brushing a piece of hair from your temple. You look up at him, eyes still swimming and glossy, and he feels a surge of something fiercely protective and soft.

“Nobody is ever going to hurt you like that again, I promise.”

And you know he means it.

masterlist

a/n: currently rewatching normal people, in case you couldn't tell