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xxsabitoxx · 1 year ago

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Gojo Satoru NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 4 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Satoru is a mix between affectionate and exhausted. He’ll shower you in kisses and soft praises while yawning, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He’ll mumble something about cleaning up after a nap, even if you’re squirming because you’re sticky he’ll assure you that after his nap, he’ll clean you up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Satoru loves your thighs. He honestly loves every part of you but something about your thighs just draws him in. He loves to lay on them, squeeze them, hold them, feel the straddling his face… they’re just so soft. He can’t get enough.

Satoru is pretty proud of his hands. He enjoys the way you compliment them, the way they feel slotted in your own. He loves the way they make you squirm and whine, he loves it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Satoru can be a bit of a pervert, he has a fascination with cum. He’s very partial to coming inside of you or at least on your sex. Something about the sight of his pearly cum covering you or leaking out of your entrance drives him absolutely insane. Satoru is also rather fascinated by his cum staining your underwear, especially after a quickie. He’ll see his own release dripping out of you and hike your underwear back up before you can clean yourself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Satoru is a panty sniffer and he tries to be sneaky about it. He’ll find your used underwear in the hamper and use them to get off, sniffing them while tugging his cock or using them to aid jerking off. What he doesn’t realize is you purposely leave your underwear around for him to “find”.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Satoru has a good amount of experience, enough to know what he is doing. But he can also argue that his consumption of porn videos and raunchy hentai aided his abilities. He’s a hands-on learner so it’s not surprising that he got a hang of things pretty quick.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Satoru enjoys just about anything but he likes positions where he can be really – and I mean almost suffocatingly – close to you. Mating press, missionary, spooning, cock-warming, etc. Anything where he can fucking squeeze you and keep you from getting away.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Satoru is fairly serious but that doesn’t mean he won’t make sly comments or even joke with you a bit. He adjusts his own “humor” to what you like. He wants you to be comfortable so if you seem to relax more when he jokes around and talks to you a lot while fucking, he’ll do it. But he’s also capable of keeping the talking to a minimum, letting his body do the work while praising you endlessly. Though if one of you fumbles around a bit, he will not hesitate to chuckle. He thinks its really cute so don’t take offense.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Satoru’s hair down there matches the hair on his head, he rather likes that so it’s very rare that he’ll shave or wax it bald. Though, again, if you request him to, he’ll do it. Satoru maintains himself very well, cleaning himself every day and trimming every 1-2 weeks.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Satoru can be disgustingly romantic when fucking you, especially when he’d close to coming. He tends to blabber a bit, telling you how perfect you are, how much he adores you and needs you, that he loves you. He means every word of it too. He’s always down for less serious, playful sex, but he’ll still make sure to let you know how much you mean to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

1-3 times a week depending on his schedule and how long he’s away from you. He’s not shy about it, taking time out of his busy day to get off when he absolutely needs to. He claims it clears his head, sometimes he really can’t focus if he’s too worked up.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Satoru really enjoys praising (both giving and receiving). Truthfully, he’s really into bondage and shibari but he can get shy about it. He just likes the idea of restraining and being restrained. He supposes it can count as a kink, but he really likes fucking you while you wear his blindfold or eye wraps. He finds it hot, especially since you can’t see what's coming next.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Satoru knows himself and his body well enough to know he will knock out after sex 9/10 times. His favorite places to fuck you are all within your own home… and within range of your bed. He loves to fuck you on a bed of course, but he also enjoys just about any surface of your home. He even made it a little game once you moved in together, keeping mental notes of what rooms he had fucked you in and what rooms he still needed to.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He feels a bit basic for this, but cute clothing and cute lingerie really does it for him. He enjoys when you dress up, maybe wear something sexier, but he’s very drawn to the pastels and laces on the various lingerie you like to buy. Sometimes it’s just as easy as batting your eyelashes for him and Satoru will find his cock twitching to life.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will NEVER force you to do anything, but he is also willing to try just about anything you desire. Satoru draws the line at slapping and intentionally hurting. Even if you beg him to hit you, the most he’ll offer is a spank on your ass or chest but he’ll never slap your face.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Satoru is addicted to you going down on him. This man lives for blow jobs and he is not ashamed to admit that. He also adores going down on you, considering himself very skilled in that aspect. But fuck does he love it when you suck him off.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the mood and your preferences. Satoru will tailor your sex excursions to fit your needs perfectly while still taking himself into consideration. Naturally, Satoru falls into the rough category with his hips moving quicker than he can handle sometimes.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Satoru is down for a quickie so long as you promise him caffeine or sweets after. I’m serious when I say this man will pass the fuck out after he blows his load. He prefers taking his time, not having to worry about being late for an event or being walked in on. Though he never really cared in the first place, people can wait on him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Satoru will try anything at least once. He’s not shy with experimenting and isn’t afraid of risks. He understands that bodily functions can and will occur while trying different things (such as anal or pegging for example) and he understands things can… go down. But he’s fine with that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Penetration wise, Satoru is a one and done kind of guy but he can push two or three if he’s really worked up (both hormone wise and adrenaline wise). When inside of you, Satoru can last between 5-8 minutes. But he makes sure to get you off as many times as you desire before getting himself off and calling it a night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Satoru has no shame in using toys, both on himself and on you. He thinks they’re fun, and he finds no competition with them. Rather he uses them to enhance the experience instead of letting it do all the work. He’s very partial to the “magic wand” vibrator he bought for the two of you to use. Going as far as to buy a backup for when the original stops working.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satoru can and will tease you until you are sobbing but he makes up for it by making you come as many times as you can handle. He’ll never leave you hanging, even as a punishment. He’d rather overstimulate you than leave you with nothing because he knows how frustrating that can feel… and he just wouldn’t feel right about it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man does nothing to keep his voice down or his volume to a minimum. He is moaning, cursing, whining, whimpering, begging, he has no shame in any of the noises he makes for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Satoru has toyed with the idea of a threesome but would give you full reigns on who the addition would be. He doesn’t mind if it’s a man or a woman, he’s not picky. But the more he toys with the idea the more he realizes how possessive he is over you and can’t bring himself to approach the topic with you. He’s not self conscious, he just… he thinks nobody can satisfy you like he does so why waste their time for a mediocre experience.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When soft he’s about 5 ½ inches (14cm). When it's hard, he’s just shy of 7 inches (around 18cm). He’s girthy, enough to need preparation before entering you but nothing too painful. He’s pretty straight, a slight curve to the right but it’s not very noticeable. He’s pale, a flushed pink tip with veins running along his shaft. He’s very pleased with his dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high but he can control it well. Satoru can get a bit cranky if he doesn’t have sex at the very least four times a week. Even then he considers that to be too little. But with a busy schedule he’s not always home so it can’t always work out in his favor.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Literally within thirty seconds. He’ll keep himself up for as long as it takes to get you comfortable and settled in his arms and even then he’s out within two minutes.

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moon1833 · 5 months ago

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Knots- Shouta Aizawa

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“Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.”

Inc: Smut, bondage, inappropriate use of a capture weapon, sub-ish Aizawa, dom reader, begging, cowgirl

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Shouta had used his binding scarf on many people before. He’s used them on villains or criminals mostly, occasionally his unruly students. He’d even used them on you before, and as purely erotic as it was, nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

He’d never had them used on him before.

You hum contently above him, the curve of your breast slipping into his sight as his old t-shirt drops deeper down your shoulder when you peer down at him. His forearms flex behind his back and he swears he’s never been this hard in his life.

His back arches slightly off the headboard when you finally settle yourself in between his legs, your lower thigh just grazing his boner. His elbow presses into a tight knot, keeping him still as you climb over him.

Shouta’s eyes are usually rimmed with tiredness, reddened by excessive stress and lack of sleep. Now, they’re pleading with you, glossy and alert of every movement you make.

“You okay?” You stroke his chin, letting his stubble drag under your thumb.

Shouta knows that you know this is the closest he’s been to heaven by the cocky smirk on your face, but he finds himself humoring you, anyway.

“Mhm, yes.” He whispers, subconsciously fluttering his eyes closed. You coo, readjusting your legs so you’re sitting on his lap.

“How long have you been wanting to try this?” He grunts, attempting to regain some of his composure.

“Since our spar.” You reply instantly, bringing your lips to his neck. “You remember, the one where I managed to use your own capture weapon against you.”

“That was a dirty move.” He can hardly get the words out, his hips stutter as you shift over him. You can’t tell if he’s talking about last week’s training session or how you sunk your teeth into a particular spot on his neck.

“Yeah?” You pull back, tilting your head. “You seemed to have liked it then, too.”

Uncharacteristically, Shouta flushes at the memory, recalling how quickly his dick hardened at being restricted by you, and how quickly he came when he ran off to go shower afterwards.

“So what?” He grumbles. You run your fingers through the hair around his nape. His breath hitches.

“Don’t be a brat.” Your lips brush his jaw. “It’s more enjoyable when you let go of that attitude.”

You tug on the knot behind him while your other hand fists his hair, and against his better judgement a whine sneaks through his clenched teeth. His dick practically jumps, and he can feel the precum leaking from his tip and making the fabric of his boxers stick to it.

You kiss him, grinding your hips down onto him as he groans into your mouth. Reflexively, he tries to pull you closer, but his hands are stopped by the restraining ties of his own weapon. He groans a little, and you rut against him forcefully, pushing more noises out of him.

Shouta is worried he might finish in his pants, and his concern is echoed on his face. His lips quiver with small moans of “Ah, fuck” and gasps of pleasure as you mark down his chest. You lick around his skin, letting it roll over your tongue and nourishing the taste.

You know he’s close. You’ve memorized his tell signs. From his screwed shut eyes and twitching nose, Shouta is about to finish. You peal off of him, amused at how he throws back his head in protest and his eyes shooting open.

You shove your panties off, making a bit of a show as you maintain eye contact with him, watching his chest heave.

Shouta lifts his hips slightly, encouraging you to help him push his boxers off, and you do, throwing them off to some corner of the room.

You place your knees on either side of him, hovering over him and sighing when his tip smacks against your clit unintentionally.

You don’t move, though, keeping your position and peering down on him.

“What?” He breathes.

“Come on.” You cross your arms, and his eyes watch your tits press against the thin material of your shirt. “Beg for it.”

His throat closes, his mouth parted in shock. When all he does is gape at you, you refuse to move.

“Shouta.” You warn. “I will finger fuck myself right here and leave you untouched.”

“Okay, fine.” He says quickly. “Shit, please.”

You give him a pointed look. “Keep going.”

“Fucking hell.” He seethes. “Please, just ride me already. I can’t take much more of this.”

You giggle, sliding down his dick until just the tip was in. An involuntary moan shivers out of you at the stretch, and Shouta’s face twitches in confidence.

In retort, you slam your hips down, forcing him all the way into you. He yelps in shock, and you dont give him much time before lifting up at repeating the action.

Your hole is burning, but it melts into pleasure the more your slick and his precum lubricates his dick. You continue to bounce up and down, little huffs of pleasure leaving you in between each stroke.

You lift your shirt over your head, fully displaying your chest as your body jiggles at the force of your thrusts. The smack of your bodies colliding is loud, but Shouta’s whimpers and string of curses are louder, and you use his shoulders to balance yourself.

Continuing your movements, you feel around the comforter for your underwear, grasping them in your palm. You tug on Shouta’s hair, and a sharp grunt leaves his mouth. You take the opportunity to shove your panties inside, watching his expression turn to a half-assed glare before switching into a burningly erotic submission.

“Aw, you gonna cum?” You jeer, even though you were fighting back your own orgasm.

Lost in a haze, Shouta nods vigorously. You keep your motions steady, fucking him through his climax as his hips jump to meet your pace. The harshness of it, along with the pretty sounds he was making forces your own orgasm, and your legs jerk as his cum leaks out of you.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you regain your breathing, combing out the small knots you formed by pulling his hair. You kiss his cheek as you reach behind him, pulling off of his dick completely to focus on untying the knot.

“Was that okay?” You ask, using your fingernails to loosen the garment.

All Shouta can mutter out is a small “Mhm”, instantly wrapping his arms around you when you finally pull the fabric through the headboard.

“So good.” He adds, his words soft as he lays down across the bed. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too.” You giggle, cuddle closer to him. He’s asleep before you can pull the covers over each other.

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yutarot · 5 days ago

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ride or die. l.jn smau

021 — queen of hearts. wc: 3.4k (sorry)

YN POV

you really don’t want to go to this party.

after your chat with chenle, you’ve decided that everything he said was complete and utter nonsense. you? in love with jeno? you laugh at the thought. so as you slip into the outfit that winter picked out for you and receive the thumbs-up approval from mark, you decide that you’re going to make tonight worth it. you’re going to let out all of the pent up confusion of the last few days, all of your built up emotions. you're going to spend the entire party on the other side of the room to jaemin and most certainly jeno, and no-one is going to fall in love.

its going to be simple, unproblematic: exactly what you need. you want things back to the way they were, before you discovered jeno's identity, before your life was sent into complete and utter chaos.

in all honesty, the situation with jaemin upset you for more reasons than one. because, not only did jaemin having feelings for you mean that you've had to repeatedly keep turning him down, but it then meant that jeno’s identity being exposed was completely futile, and it made you feel awful.

after all, jaemin leaked jeno’s identity because of you, and despite jeno being okay with it, you aren’t.

putting your thoughts aside, you reinsert yourself into reality, standing side by side to mark and winter, horrifically aware of all the eyes around you. haalands frat house was spacious, a hue of dark multicoloured light stretching from wall to wall, absorbed in the imminent sound of upbeat music and flood of bodies. it hasn't gone unnoticed to the rest of the people at the party the way that you and jeno have avoided each other all night. occasionally, you catch a glance of him across the room, nursing the same drink he's had since he got here, whilst you’re way beyond your sixth, or perhaps even your eighth, its hard to tell. but people were starting to notice, and whether you like it or not, you're going to have to speak to him at some point. just not yet, you need a few more drinks first.

excusing yourself from winter and mark, you see chenle and his friend, jisung, pouring drinks at the side of the room, and you make the very unwise decision to go over to them.

"pour me one?" you say, extending your cup out to jisung who shyly pours the remaining liquor into your cup. chenle however, is unimpressed, giving you the most diabolical look of discontent, his eyebrow raising.

you squeeze past chenle in silence to grab some lemonade for the rest of your drink before he finally speaks.

"you gonna explain why you're doing everything but following my advice?" his voice is laced with a humorous tone of annoyance.

"no.." you reply, "im just.. feeling out the atmosphere first."

"oh right, okay. only for two hours." he flips back sarcastically.

jisung laughs awkwardly, not aware at all what the two of you are talking about.

"okay fine, I changed my mind."

chenle gives you a deadpan look. "how so?"

"what you said yesterday, i think you're wrong. "

chenle doesn't reply, he only laughs. "yeah. okay." he keeps chuckling to himself, so much so that you get annoyed, turning back around to go find mark and winter.

if, two months ago, you had told yourself that you would have walked away from the chenle zhong at a party mid conversation, you wouldn't believe it. you take the mental note to tell mark later, rubbing in all the times that he made fun of your crush in the past.

as you get back to your best friends, winter notices the cogs turning in the back of your mind. “why do i feel like you’re planning to kill someone.” she giggles.

“she’s pretty drunk.” mark replies for you, “she’s probably just trying to keep herself from throwing up everywhere.”

winter laughs, leaning round to check if you’re okay, in which you reply. “im not drunk, just annoyed.”

winter and mark exchange a glance.

as if on queue, you realise that one of your's and winters go-to party songs has began to fill the room: exceeder by mason. jumping out of your anger feuded trance, you grab winters hand, leading her to the centre of the party.

you let yourself go, ignoring all the prying eyes of those around you, finally basking in your own enjoyment, along-side your bestfriend.

you feel free, safe from judgement.

but all of that comes to a halt when you hear renjuns voice replace the large sound of music.

“those of you that want to join for the dare circle stay here, those of you that don’t. politely, fuck off." he adds on a "thanks." to the end, as if it would make his sentence suddenly super polite.

a dare circle? at a college party? you feel sick at the thought. but winters steel grip keeps you in place, and it’s not until you’re sat in the circle ready to play do you realise who’s remaining in the room.

to either side of you sit winter and mark, and when you scan your eyes around the rest, the voices of renjun, haechan, haaland, jaemin and chenle all fill the silence, aswell as some other faces you don't recognise. but when your eyes meet the person sitting at the far end of the circle, attention already baring into you, you go cold. jeno sits, leaning back on his hands and he looks at you. his face is calm, but you sense something even deeper whirring inside him, and you’re intrigued to find out what it is.

before you can think any further on the matter, haaland yells something incoherent, and when someone asks 'what the actual fuck that was supposed to mean', he shrugs, pointing to haechan.

“the fuck do you want me to do?!" haechan argues, but haaland gives him the middle finger.

haechan rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, you big oof, i’ll explain the rules.” he pauses, picking up a pack of cards from the centre of the circle. “each card is correspondant to a dare. the number on the card indicates how many shots you have to take if you don’t do the dare, and the symbol indicates what dare you get."

everyone in the circle nods, excitement filling the air around you

"clubs: you have to choose someone to slap you in the face.”

beside you, mark bursts into laughter, “fucking praying i get to see haaland slap someone.”

you zone mark out, rolling your eyes as you listen to the rest of haechan’s explanation. “spades: you’ll be asked a personal question to answer.”

sounds pretty self explanatory, though you’re betting you’ll get a question about you and jeno, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. it’s become second nature to lie about your relationship with him, girls constantly coming up to you asking all sorts of questions, and you know they’re just feeling you out to see if you’ll last, waiting for their opportunity to have him for themselves. you’ll never understand the appeal.

well.. maybe some things you could understand.

“diamonds: you have to give the number on the card in dollars to the person on your left.”

a unified moan of annoyance floods through the circle, pleads of ‘fuck you im broke.’ and a 'i literally just got fired' from jisung, flying around the room.

“and hearts.” he pauses, eyes scanning meticulously between each of you, “hearts: you have to kiss someone else in the circle.”

after haechan explains the rules, eager and completely incoherent yells expand from the people around you. “easy.” winter chuckles, winking at haechan, and mark throws her a look of disgust.

“i really do hate people in relationships.” mark groans. you couldn’t agree more, though you couldn’t openly agree that in this setting.

haechan shuffles the cards before placing the deck in the centre of the circle and obviously choosing winter to go first. she giggles as she picks up the top card, flipping it over to reveal the 7 of clubs. the entire circle fades into a fit of laughter as you notice the drop in haechans expression.

"fuck you for choosing me to go first." she says, aimed at haechan. you all watch in anticipation as she places herself infront of him, everyone around her urging her on as she places her palm to haechans cheek, only to (lightly) slap him a few moments later. the circle is in a disarray of chaos, haechan eventually joining in, laughing at his own seriousness.

its winters turn to choose who's next and you're a little relieved that she's sober enough not to try and mess with you. a sigh escapes you as she chooses mark, who, on the contrary, is absolutely livid.

he picks up a card and flips it, the 4 of diamonds. he kicks his feet in anger as he digs into his wallet, taking out 4 dollars and passing it to winter, who just so happens to be on his left.

"I want that back later." he says.

winter laughs, "i'll buy you a burger."

when its marks turn to choose, he picks jaemin. you immediately turn to your best friend, eyes telling him just how much you wish to kill him. mark only shrugs before whispering to you.

"games a game."

you hit him on the back of his head in annoyance.

the circle is suddenly tense as jaemin reaches for the deck, and when he flips the top card, you go stiff.

"ooooooo, 2 of spades." haechan says, a smirk plastered on his face

somehow you hear haalands voice booming over the sound of your heart racing. "let me ask! let me ask! let me ask!" you exchange glances with literally everyone else in the room as you question what the hell haaland wants to ask, but you let him because, what the hell, why not?

"how do you feel knowing your best friend is dating your crush?"

the room falls silent.

that's why not,

"what? what is it?" haaland whispers to haechan, "what did I say wrong?" haechan slaps him on his arm, getting him to shut up, seemingly very intrigued on jaemins answer.

as are you.

but jaemin says nothing. he just looks at jeno, who very slightly shakes his head, almost unnoticeable.

but you notice.

after what seems like one too many seconds of silence, jaemin reaches towards the bottle in the middle of the circle and the entire room bursts into an energy of drunken excitement and chaos.

jaemin, seemingly angry at the situation, points to the one person in the room you've been hoping, praying, wouldn't be picked.

jeno.

if you thought the circle couldn't get more tense, you were wrong.

although you know its your imagination, you feel the burning of everyones attention on you, though the dare is placed on jeno.

he says nothing, just leaning forward and grabbing a card from the top of the deck.

you study jenos face as he reads the card. his expression hardens, eyes immediately going to yours as he places the card in the centre of the circle for everyone to see.

the energy of the room returns.

you look down at the card and your heart plunges out of your chest.

the queen of hearts.

this can only go one of two ways: jeno is going to somehow down 12 shots of straight liquor, one after the other, or he's going to decide to spare himself a trip to the hospital and be forced to, instead, go through with his dare.

to kiss somebody else in the circle.

immediately, jeno looks to you, a face of question lining his features, as if he's asking for your permission.

everyone glances between you and jeno, jeering you on. you feel suffocated, surrounded by faces of both people who don't know the truth and people that do, a plethora of judgement and the utmost fear of what's true: that it has to be you, you're his girlfriend.

you begin to panic. this was it, you couldn't escape it. this wasn't like being confronted by one of samo's fangirls, this wasn't like one of your faux dates with jeno. because atleast then you could pretend it was something it wasn't.

but this is different. a kiss is a kiss.

you can barely keep up with your own mind. you decide there's only one way out of this. you have to get out of there, now. you have to find a place away from all of these faces. so that's what you do, you get up, finding yourself heading straight to the nearest bedroom.

you close the door, collecting yourself. you feel stupid, cowardly, getting up and leaving like that. if people didn't think something was up between you two before, then they definitely do now.

but it wasn't them that you were worried about.

amidst your panicking and uncontrollable embarrassment, you hear the door click.

“winter, im okay i just-“

“hi.” jeno’s voice reaches down inside you, ripping up all hope of composure. you don’t know why you feel like this, why you feel like your heart is about to explode out of your chest and make a mess of haalands carpet. but you can’t control it, no matter how hard you try to.

“sorry,” you say quietly, “i thought you were winter.”

“well im not, if that helps.” he laughs, and you grin at his silliness.

"not really.." you say, the words coming out although you don't mean for them to.

there’s a pause of silence before jeno speaks up again. “sorry if i, you know, freaked you out in there. i just thought it’d be suspicious if it wasn’t you.”

“it’s okay.” it’s not okay. it’s not okay at all.

“can i ask you something?” he asks. you look up at him, the same stoic expression plastered on his face.

“okay..”

“why have you been avoiding me?” he says, a complete contrast to whatever you thought it was that he was going to say. “everywhere i go i feel your eyes follow me, but that’s all it is. not once have you spoken to me at this party until now, and frankly, im getting pretty fucking annoyed about it.”

his words catch you off guard, you’ve never seen jeno angry like this, eyes cold and unrelentless.

“it’s just… easier to pretend you’re not here.” you reply. it’s true, jeno’s mere existence is only a reminder of how much you ruined his life. though it was indirectly, it’s still your fault.

he’s silent, as if he’s suddenly understood your thoughts, before he speaks. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“don’t pretend im not here. it’s killing me.”

something in him shifts, as if all the anger in him suddenly turns and drifts out of his mind, replaced by a solemn feeling of helplessness.

but his jaw is still clenched. hard.

that feeling of something else floating at the back of jenos mind overwhelms you again. you're curious, about him, about you, and suddenly your mind races back to your conversation with chenle.

'just see what happens if you follow what your heart tells you.'

jeno can see that your thinking, and you pray that he can't read your mind.

"you're not okay, yn. what's going on in that little head of yours? why did you run in here?"

you take a moment to collect yourself, deciding that you need to tell him. he's the only other person in the world that could understand what it feels like to be in the position where something fake could, so quickly, seem so real.

"everyone was watching.” you say, quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact.

but when he doesn't speak, you look up. his eyes find yours, brows furrowed.

“isn’t that the point?” he says, mocking you. you can’t help but scoff at his response.

its the attention of it all. it’s not the people that don’t know the truth that worries you, its the people that do. fear struck you at the possibility that if you were to kiss jeno, it would suddenly make everything seem too real.

and that was not what you wanted.

despite what chenle thought you did.

you realise you haven't answered him, incessantly rambling in your own mind, when a small smile lines jenos features, atmosphere shifting and causing you to tense as he speaks up.

jeno steps closer to you, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol speaking or you’re just plain delusional, but you swear he’s looking at your lips.

your theory is confirmed the second he opens his mouth to speak.

"how about now." his voice is soft. "its just us."

you don't know what to do, to say. so you just let him speak, unaware if its the sudden change in atmosphere that's making you dizzy, the alcohol, or jenos words.

but as he continues to speak, you decide its definitely the latter.

jeno tilts his head, looking down at you. "as your boyfriend, its only right that i can kiss you. no?"

you look at him in awe.

before you have time to register what the hell you're doing, you do the unthinkable, your actions exploding with a lack of consequence and an overwhelming new urge of confidence.

just once, you tell yourself, just to prove to myself that it’s not real.

you don’t think, you don’t want to think, as you step forward and reach up, hand falling to the back of his neck. you pull his head down and almost immediately his lips find yours.

its soft, careful. but as jeno realises what's happening, the tension between you shifts and suddenly, it's as if there was something new between you, finally imploding in your senses. it’s desperate, controlled and yet you have no idea what you’re doing.

jeno, however, seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

subtly, you feel his smile against your lips as he reaches a hand down to your waist, circling your lower back and pulling you flush against his body. you don’t have time to react, he’s taken full control over everything, as if he’s been wanting to do this for the longest time.

he breaks the kiss, murmuring against your skin. “you know there’s no-one watching us, right?” he leans back in, not even waiting for your reply.

“i know.” you manage to say. its a simple question, but it means so much.

there’s something so indescribably natural about it, as if yours and jeno’s relationship had been real the whole time. but it hadn’t, and you were becoming increasingly aware of it with every press of his lips against yours.

he senses something within you and he pulls away, eyes searching in your own as he pushes your hair from your face, his touch barely there. “you okay?”

you don’t need to say anything; he knows what your thinking. his hands slowly let loose from your sides, letting you stand onto your own weight and your knees almost buckle at the action. “easy, i've got you.” he says, holding you again and finally letting go only after you've regained your balance.

the air between you is thick, the confusion of what the hell just happened suffocating you.

you open your mouth to say something, to ease the awkwardness between you, but jeno beats you to it.

you feel awkward, like you want to do anything but stay in this room with him. he senses your stiffness, reaching past you to grab the door handle.

“hope you enjoy the rest of the party, pretty.” he mocks you with the last word, opening the door to let you both out of the room.

you scoff, eyes rolling with a small laugh. “i’ll try.” you say, before walking back into the room, multiple pairs of eyes staring as you both appear.

you sit back inbetween winter and mark, jeno also taking his rightful place back in the circle.

“what happened with you guys, you were gone for ages?” mark whispers.

you reply, “i think we just ruined everything.” you’re talking to mark, but your eyes never leave jeno’s.

fuck, you’re right. you really have just ruined everything.

but it was at that moment that you realised something crucial to why whatever just happened, had happened.

you wanted it to. and that very fact chilled you to the bone.

previous : mlist : next

notes; not me making up a whole drinking game because i didn’t wanna use truth or dare ☠️

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

#nct #nct smau #nct fanfic #nct college au #nct dream #nct jeno #nct scenarios #f1 jeno #jeno nct #jeno smau #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno

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im-gonna-sing-the-doom-song-blog · 24 days ago

Text

Jason Todd NSFW A-Z

Warnings 18+:

Adult language and themes

*sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar errors

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason would hold you, grip firm, but comforting, almost as if grounding himself in this moment. He would mummer to you in that rough Bowery accent. “Fucking shit, hon..” while kissing your neck. It takes a little for him to clean up and to let you do the same (he's very lazy at this point), but when he does, he spoils you. He runs you a warm bath and brings you your favorite snack, along with the softest pjs ever. The best part is the deep tissue massage he gives you to release the rest of that tension they may linger. “I said I would get all of the knots out, didn’t I?”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jason really doesn’t have a favorite part of his own body. His hands maybe. They can bring on destruction, but also build and mend things he thought he was only capable of destroying. He loves using them to squeeze your thighs. That’s his favorite part, if he had to choose. He loves all of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I fully believe he's into facials and cumming in your mouth. Something about holding your face with one hand, thumb and index finger squishing your cheeks as he rubs his leaking cock against your lips, glossing them with precum. When he cums, his smacking your face with it. Extra points if you stick out your tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secret recordings and photos. He gets off on rewatching the filthy things he does to you. He’s not much of a porn guy, since he only wants you. Other people don’t really interest him in that aspect. So, when he goes on those long missions and can’t see you for a while, he has something to keep him motivated.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few partners, but nothing really special. Not like you. Just basic sex after he came back from the pit, but his body was still settling in itself. Growing pains and all that he had to endure all at once. He has the know-how and some top tier equipment, so what he lacks in experience he makes up in that. Either way, you're a soaking mess when he’s done. The longer you're with him, the better and better it gets

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Hands down, He loves watching your pussy take his full length to the base “You like that? Get that ass up. You can take it” . He also enjoys cowgirl when you both in the mood, but doesn’t wanna move around too much. Perfect for those sore post patrol nights and he wants to get you off.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Neither goofy or serious. A complete bastard. Jason gets that shit eating grin on his face when he’s slamming into you and you making you whimper in pleasure. “All that talk and you can barely take it.” He chuckles. “And you think I was gonna let you off easy?”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Definitely trimmed. He doesn’t really care as long as it's neat down there. Dark trail of hair. Not really much to say.

Always clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kind of a prick. Jason is naturally an aggressive guy, so I can’t really see him being gentle in bed unless you ask him to. He won’t hurt you in anyway, but he fucks in the mattress until you’re unable to walk properly.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not really into it. Jason would rather wait to have the real thing than bore himself with a porno. Why waste time with that? However mutual masturbation can get him going. Intense making out while he jerks off and you touch yourself drives him feral. “Those goddamn noises you make, doll. Gonna make me lose my shit”

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lingerie. Especially his color. Lace makes him rock hard. He likes to choke you too. Pull your hair. His major kink is definitely edging..teasing and teasing..and teasing some more until he feels like letting you cum. “Too much? Look at you. You’re squirming and soak already. I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Home. Anywhere in his apartment is game. He has security measures up the ass there and I don’t see him being a public sex kinda man. Too many risks. The exception is the Batcave.. he’ll hack the security there, fuck you on the training mat and then leave your assprint on the hood of the Batmobile. Wouldn’t even bother deleting the footage either. This asshole would make eye contact with the camera and flip it off on the way out.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Arguments with you get him going. Especially when it's really heated. He’ll fuck the attitude right out of you. “Babe, curb the ‘tude before I fuck it out of ya” In contrast, his desire is also awakened when you're...just....talking. Your voice puts him in a state. “Just keep talking, please..” He breathes as he palms himself. Stress relief after patrol is another motivator. He’ll wash up the blood and carry you to the bed. “I need you like crazy, c’mere”

*Bonus. Not really a turn on...but he’ll demolish you out of jealousy. Say, if he felt like someone like Dick was trying something (Dick would never but Jason can be a delusional baby sometimes, let’s face it). It's a self-esteem thing for him. “Everyone wants the pretty golden boy. What, don’t I fuck you good enough.” Oh, he certainly does.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Consent is key. Jason Todd is a mean prick during sex and can sometimes get carried away, but the moment you show the slightest display of unwillingness in your eyes, he’ll stop immediately. He’ll go soft and it may take a while to get him hard again. He could never hurt you and if ever accidently did, he wouldn’t forgive himself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving as much as receiving. Jason will eat you out like he's starving, your legs pushed up and everything. He’ll make you scream his name as he traces it with his tongue. “Hold still and stop squirming, will you? I’m trying to fuckin’eat.” Then when he's leaning back against the couch, muscular arms resting up and you're on your knees on the floor in front of him, he’ll forgive you a little if you can’t go down all the day. “Too big? Poor you” He’ll coo almost mockingly. I don’t really feel choking my pretty girl out. Take a deep breath and take it slow” The sounds that come out of him though? Goddamn.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Normally rough and medium paced. Not fast or slow. He’s not gentle. I don't care what anyone says. When I say he’ll fuck you into oblivion, I mean it. That doesn’t translate that he doesn't enjoy slow and sensual love making, he does. It's just that sex is a stress reliever for him, so he wants to release it as much as possible. “You can take it, huh? Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. I can always fuck you harder, you know”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Jason likes to take his time. He would only want a quickie if he was on patrol and its quiet. He’ll sneak into your window. And after briefly scolding (lovingly) you for your cheap ass, shit locks. He’ll fuck you into the mattress, leaving a puddle. Then he’ll kiss you as he’s leaving before getting caught by Bruce.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I feel like he's pretty open. I think the one main thing he wouldn't do would be those gas station enhancement pills or things like ecstasy etc.. After his mom and being on the streets, he’s not really eager to put anything like that in his body. Also, anything that could cause harm or injury. I really don’t see him being into thing like gunplay, even if you are. “These are for work, not play, baby girl. Though I like your enthusiasm, let's keep those separate.”

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Nonstop. The Lazarus pit gave him an endurance boost. An extra perk if you will. Useful for knocking out his enemies and for going round after round in more ways than one. He can last as long as he wants. “Don’t tap out now, love. I’m only getting started.”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I have a personal fantasy of using a vibrating cock ring on Jason. He would like that cause it gives both you and him pleasure. His cock would be twitching like hell. Make him stutter his words. “Fuck..you’re killing me..and I’ve been dead. Keep this on me and it might actually do the job this time.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Bastard. That is all.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jason is a breathy swearer. This man cusses a lot when shit gets hot and heavy. No surprise there. “Fuck..fuck..just like that. Fuck yes. Such a good fucking girl. Make me cum, sweetheart. Fuck”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t watch porn to get off. He watches them for the corny plots and laughs at them. You’ll catch him and you think he would have his hand down his pants. Nope. He’s eating chips and laughing.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Under his black Under Armor boxers, the man is packing. Long and a little thick with that vein that runs on the underside. Eye candy when he’s in sweatpants. “Keep staring with you mouth open like that and I’ll put it to use” hell joke.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high, but not uncontrollable. Jason is a patient man and has no problem waiting for you to be in the mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn’t fall asleep quickly. He’s the type to smoke a cigarette with you (if you smoke) on the balcony as he holds you. He’s used to being up all night, so he would only nap post sex if if the afternoon so it doesn’t mess with the sleep schedule. “Come here and cuddle babe. We can order something for take out”

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #batfam #jason todd reader #red hood x you #red hood

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after-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Alone in the Dark [Gojo x Reader]

Title: Alone in the Dark [Gojo x Reader]

Synopsis: You’re training alone and Gojo has some… ideas for how to improve on your training.

Word Count: 6000ish

notes: noncon blowjob, noncon cunnilingus (done on reader), degradation/humiliation, some misogyny, mentions of reader childbearing, Gojo being a nasty creep

There was no place in the world of sorcerers for someone like you. You were too kind, too sweet--too soft.

That’s what everyone (or almost everyone) told you, almost for as long as you can remember. Yes, you can remember being a child and hearing adults tut-tut at the way you served others before yourself; at the way you made everyone stop so that a group of ducklings could cross the road; at the way you fretted over your brother when he came home black and blue and scratched-red from fighting curses.

It was bad, they said, for you to focus so much on caring for others and not enough on developing the strong skills to do what is necessary. Even when what is necessary might not be what is just or kind or thoughtful.

If you were to lament about these frustrations to the average non-sorcerer, you imagine they might widen their eyes, put their hand to their heart, or maybe even rest a hand on your shoulder. You poor thing! They might say. How cruel.

Was it cruel? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have anything else to compare it with--this was how most generations-long sorcerer families raised their children. You had to excel, you had to be strong, there was no room for weakness.

Kindness, it seems, was a weakness.

But… maybe your sweet personality wasn’t a complete weakness. Because your family didn’t throw you out, as some families did with the weaker leaks in their formidable chains. Instead, they pivoted.

If you weren’t going to be a stony-hearted sorcerer who could take down curses with their eyes closed (no pun intended, they would say, if they had a sense of humor) you would serve the family in another way.

You must still be strong, yes, but you could keep your tendency to dote and devote yourself to others if you were to take on another role: a wife. More than that--a mother. Marry a strong sorcerer, have lots of children, continue the line until your body could no longer stand having children.

And so you grew up learning duties of a different kind. How to manage a household--from the servants you would be expected to order around to keeping track of linens and pantries; how to sew, because while servants would no doubt do any heavy lifting, you could at least be expected to fix your husband’s garments or embroider a family crest on them; how to dote in the right way, acquiescing to your husband while doing your best to maintain the honor and reputation of your old and new families. How to raise children--the right way, so they hopefully don’t end up like you, needing to be delicately placed into a niche.

All this, while strengthening your jujutsu, while practicing harnessing your cursed energy, while knowing that you were not what your family wanted but you weren’t entirely useless, and you had to make the best of that.

Now that you’re an adult of marriageable age, it’s only a matter of time before they find a suitable husband for you. He must be from one of the great families, of course. You were too important to marry off to some low-level sorcerer without a stellar reputation. Not only that, but marrying someone from a prominent family (a strong family) would increase the chances that your children would be strong.

Strong children--strong sorcerers. More sorcerers--more soldiers in the ongoing battle against curses.

And if you wanted to do your duty, then you needed to be strong enough to perform it. No sorcerer wanted a weak little thing for a wife, did they? Of course not.

That’s what brought you here, alone, isolated and tired but so damn determined to improve yourself. It was your idea to come here, which seemed to please your parents. Your cursed energy has been running a little too wild lately, seeping out of you, escaping in little trickles.

It’s your own fault. Admitting this also seemed to please your parents, though it made a low pit form in your stomach, and you didn’t dare divulge into why it was your fault that cursed energy was streaking out of you like a stubborn dripping faucet.

You have too much self-doubt. You’re too worried about letting people down. You’re not confident enough, strong enough, and if you aren’t strong enough then you aren’t good enough regardless of how well you might perform on the wifely front in front of the increasingly judgemental matchmaker your parents brought in to monitor your progress.

But, no, you couldn’t say any of this to your parents. It’s not that they wouldn’t understand. It’s that they wouldn’t care. Self-doubt? No room for that here. Get rid of it. No confidence? How could you lack confidence, given your heritage? Change. No no, to be more precise, they would say: shut up, deal with it, then change.

The only person you did explain any of this to was Satoru Gojo, a friend (or colleague? Or friend-colleague? Or colleague-friend? You were never entirely sure where you stood with him) who would at least listen without completely dismissing you. Not that he did much more than cluck at you condescendingly and offer to marry you--in jest--to get your folks off your back.

You’d laughed and swatted him in the shoulder (which he didn’t mind you doing, leading you to think friend-first-then-colleague is the more appropriate moniker) and asked him for advice.

Which is what has led you here to train, alone and hard. But training was meant to be hard, so you couldn’t complain. And training alone would give you the focus you needed to actually improve.

And you would improve. You had to--not just for your family but for yourself, and your future. The wife of a sorcerer (you tried not to think too far beyond that, to what your parents had been grooming you for: to become a matriarch in the continuing line of your family’s clan) still had to be strong enough not to let cursed energy seep from her so easily.

With the right training, you were going to get better.

Right?

Right.

This is what you needed: time alone.

Because although you plan to be here for much longer, you can already tell that you’re sewing up those weaknesses within you, preventing cursed energy from sneaking out like it had been doing so readily for the past few months.

Confidence was key, after all. Your family had never been wrong on that front. You just needed to get away from the stresses of life to regain that confidence.

You sigh through your nose. The air down here is stale, but it’s not surprising. It’s not like there was anyone down here but you and the darkness and--

“Hey!”

You and the darkness and… Gojo Satoru.

“How are your leaks?!” His voice rings out cheerfully in the empty space, almost echoing.

For a moment, you fracture, and you can feel something trickle out of you. But you hold your breath and regain your senses, forcing yourself to regrip the focus you’d been maintaining for hours now.

Breathe in.

It’s just Gojo.

Breathe out.

Coming to check on you. Which means he cares, in his own way, which is more than you can say for a lot of people. But you wish he’d told you that he intended on coming. It’s a bit jarring, and a whisper of embarrassment begins to build in your chest. He was, as he didn’t mind saying (it could not rightfully be called bragging)-- “the best.”

You hear his footsteps before you see him in the dim lighting. His slow, aimless walk might have even seemed a bit creepy, if you weren’t already used to it. Or if he hadn’t called out beforehand.

He grins when he comes into view, hands in the pockets of his trousers. He’s wearing his sunglasses today, his hair down and loose. He gives a short wave, and you bite back a sigh. You don’t want to stand up--you’re still training--so you merely straighten your back a little and wave back.

“Ah, Gojo. Have I really been down here that long?” You wonder if anyone in your family has bothered to wonder where you were or took the time to track you down.

“Ah, Satoru,” he says, idly. “Oh, it’s only been a few hours.”

Just like that, there’s a sting in your chest. A few hours? Why would he check on you so early? Did he think you were that weak? Were you that weak? No--you shake the thought away, willing yourself to maintain focus, maintain the layer that keeps your cursed energy from releasing.

No, he was just… concerned about you. This would be the first time you’ve done something like this, after all. And he was always telling you that he’d be happy to give you advice, and he didn’t have the same sarcastic twang in his voice reserved for people he didn’t care for.

“So…” Gojo crouches down, getting close to your eye level. “You think you’re doing well?”

You let a smile show. A shy little smile, the kind you gave when you were feeling genuinely proud. Those smiles were few and far between when it came to your family, but you didn’t mind them in front of people like Gojo.

“Mm-hmm. I think coming here is helping me regain a sense of…” Your eyebrows furrow as he stands up and begins walking around you in slow, lazy circles. “Purpose?” Your head follows him, but he doesn’t stop or acknowledge what he’s doing. “Or um, confidence.”

He stops only when he’s right in front of you, but instead of crouching he merely leans down and gets right up in your face, a smile with a hint of teeth showing. The proximity brings heat to your face, and you lean back. He follows your motion, blue eyes behind his glasses peering at you in an almost uncharacteristically serious manner.

After a few moments, he speaks--

“I’d like to conduct a test.”

You fidget in your seated position.

“A test?”

Your heart beats a little faster--one, two, three. But you’re not worried. It’s more like you can feel the first creepy-crawlies of self doubt making their way back up your spine. Why does Gojo want to test you? He’s smarter and stronger and there’s a reason he’s consulted so much on teaching others, so… so…

You swallow that “so” while you wait for him to answer.

He taps his chin in a dramatic way, and it makes you feel better. At least, until he starts talking and seemingly confirms those creepy-crawlies. Not intentionally, though--he wouldn’t do that.

“Yes, a test! A truly great jujutsu sorcerer must be able to maintain control in all situations, no?” He waves his hands around at the surrounding space, the emptiness except for you and him. “Not in isolation. You won’t be fighting curses in isolation, will you? You won’t be fighting curse users in isolation, will you?” He asks these last two questions slowly, kindly. It makes you feel younger and more stupid, and you make a note to talk to him later about that, since he wouldn’t knowingly hurt your feelings.

“I…” You lick your lips. You brought a case of water, but you haven’t yet opened it, and your mouth is dry. Too dry. But that’s not important. What’s important is that Gojo has presented you with a very realistic, all-too-true conundrum.

You shake your head too slowly for your own liking. “No, I… I guess I won’t be.”

“You guess?” He asks, voice taking on an almost sing-song tone at the end that plucks at one of your fraying nerves.

Your heart pounds just a little harder, you feel a trickle of sweat on your forehead that you don’t wipe away. You force your breathing to even, your muscles to relax.

“I won’t be,” you reaffirm, removing all traces of doubt in your face. “I know I won’t be.”

He already started the test, you think, he just didn’t tell you. You might be mad but you’re not, not really. It’s just like Gojo to pluck out your weaknesses so he can help you better them, isn’t it? That’s what he’s here for, what he’s always been here for. To help you improve. To help you.

And you? You can do this. You were born and raised, literally, to do this. To be the best sorcerer you could be, and if you need someone like Gojo to help you, who were you to reject him? Nobody.

And so, when Gojo hums happily and plops himself down in front of you, crossing his legs to mimic your own position, you take a breath and remind yourself how lucky you are to have someone like him ready to help instead of quietly watching you fail, waiting for your downfall and wondering if it would help boost their own family’s status to knock you down a peg.

Gojo wouldn’t do that, not to you.

You take another breath, and Gojo stares at you, blinks--once, twice.

“Ready?”

You smile a little, sigh a little, and nod.

“Let’s do this.”

It takes your brain a few moments to process what happens, because it’s like there is a disconnect between your brain and your body and your soul and you don’t know how to tether them altogether again.

Gojo kisses you.

Not a chaste peck, either, but warm and wet, his tongue sliding over your lips; a slimy feeling you’ve never experienced before.

You jerk back before you know you do it, your eyes wide, knuckles pressed to your mouth.

“What--G-Gojo--”

Gojo doesn’t move from his spot on the floor. He doesn’t even seem bothered by your reaction or anything at all.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, eyeing you through his glasses. He looks above you, around you. “You’re leaking again.”

Your chest seizes. He’s right--when he kissed you, what control you’ve been confidently rebuilding was completely lost.

“I… I don’t understand how this is a test,” you get out. The words are slow and you feel stupid for saying them.

“Oh!” Gojo grins, then. “Sorry. Guess I should have explained, huh? I bet you never had training like this. Ah…” He leans forward, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his chin lazily on his hand. “You have to be able to control your cursed energy in any situation, right?”

He waits for you to nod, so you do.

“And curses or curse users don’t always play fair. They may do something you don’t expect.”

“They won’t kiss me,” you say, but as soon as you say it, Gojo’s expression makes you question yourself. “Will… they?”

Gojo sighs, and moves to stand up.

“I guess I was wrong about you.”

Your chest hurts.

“You aren’t ready for this type of training.” He’s almost talking to himself now, getting ready to stand. “Maybe in a few years. Or, ah, maybe your family would rather you get married and your husband can decide if he wants you to reach your full potential. Maybe they won’t care, if you have enough kids…”

You try to clamp down on a stream of energy steadily making its way out of you. It’s like soured milk, bitterness, self-doubt, all clawing their way up your spine and out of you.

“Wait--” You reach for him and grip his sleeve. “I-I am ready, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting… that. I’m sorry. Please train me.” If Gojo won’t train you, won’t help you, then no one will.

Gojo tilts his head at you, considering. Then he slowly sits back down.

“Ooo-ookay. But you have to let me do my job, okay? I know what I’m doing.” He pokes you above your chest, on a clavicle showing above your shirt. The touch makes you jump. Almost makes you forget the lingering warmth on your lips… almost.

“Control your energy,” Gojo says casually. “No matter what, okay?”

You nod. And you wonder if he’ll kiss you again, but no, he’ll do something else. Try to attack you without warning or bring up something strange or maybe even try to dig under your skin with some sort of verbal spitfire.

He doesn’t do any of that.

Instead, he grips the bottom of your shirt and begins peeling it upwards with such quickness and strength that your arms go flying up with the fabric.

A noise escapes you, something like an undignified squawk, but you’re too unprepared and Gojo pulls the shirt up and over your head before you can protest or even try to stop him.

You do, however, regain your reaction time when your shirt is tossed to the side and quickly cross your arms over your bare chest. You didn’t even wear a bra, wanting to keep yourself to as few layers as possible, although it was more uncomfortable to go without because of your larger breasts.

Your cheeks burn terribly hot and you don’t know what you want to say. You just know

“S-Stop, this is, that is--this isn’t…”

This isn’t training, is it? A kiss, okay, okay, that’s something Gojo might do to tease you. Even if he went too far. But your clothes? No, no, no--

Gojo doesn’t stop smiling. You want him to stop smiling, to apologize, and to leave. But you don’t get what you want.

“This isn’t what?” He asks. There’s a stickiness to his voice that is like a filmy layer growing in your gut.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, he reaches out and grabs your wrists, pulling them down so you can’t keep them crossed over your chest. You gasp but he keeps them held down while he leers down at your bared breasts.

He’s faster than you, and his hands are underneath your breasts, pushing them up and jiggling them before you can blink.

“These are pretty bouncy, huh?” He murmurs, to himself or maybe you, you’re not sure which would make you feel worse. Your face burns hot and your feeble attempts at batting his hands away get you nowhere. “But you’re always hiding them…” He continues to bounce your ample breasts up and down.

You can’t take it. Your skin feels like it’s on fire and you’re being touched in a way you’ve never been touched, and it’s Gojo, he shouldn’t be, he couldn’t be, doing this.

“St-stop,” you spit out, finally getting the presence of mind to jerk your body away. Amidst the embarrassment and shock is a thready bit of indignity. You aren’t some… some floozy, you’re part of a highly respected sorcerer family. He can’t just--

“This--this isn’t training! You’re just being perv--”

He presses a finger to your lips, and you hush stupidly with it. He takes it away and regards you with an expression you’ve seen him use with particularly stubborn would-be sorcerers.

“Aren’t I stronger than you?”

“Yes,” you say, helplessly. “But--”

Your hands go to cover your breast, and he bats them away.

“Don’t I know more than you?”

“Yes, but--”

“Then let me help you,” he says, taking and squeezing your hands with such earnestness that it throws your mind off balance.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you admit, voice mumbling and stumbling. Your eyes widen and you feel hot tears working their way to the corners of your eyes. He shouldn’t touch you… he shouldn’t!

Gojo merely uses his grip on your hands to clap them together.

“But it’s working, isn’t it? The more distracted you are, the more likely you are to leak energy. And that’s bad, right?”

While he speaks, his fingers release yours, only to slither down to the waistband of your skirt. Your breath hitches.

“Y-Yes,” you mutter.

“What is it?” he asks, fingers latching onto your waistband and tugging it down. You squirm, but he persists.

His question only dimly registers until he yanks down your skirt, pulling it down your seated legs.

“B-Bad?” You should tell him to stop. You should leave. But he’s… Gojo… and you’re just--

“And if you can control yourself, that’s…” He drawls out these words,, placing a finger on your clothed pussy and dragging it down the middle.

“Good,” you squeak, voice tight and tinny.

“Right.” He grins, all praises.

Your legs do kick then, and you try to scoot backwards, away, away, away. But he presses one hand down on your bare thigh, and you’re stuck.

“This isn’t training,” you plead, mouth opening and closing like a fish, shocked and stupid.

He peers down at you from behind his glasses.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Your heart lurches. It aches.

“I d-d-do,” you spit out, jaw trembling as much as your body. “But…”

He gives your thigh a good squeeze.

“Th-th-then just let me do this for you, okay?”

The growing knot in your stomach twists and pulls terribly.

“How is this for me?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Instead he grips your inner thighs and pulls your legs apart. You’re aware, suddenly, of how physically strong he is--stronger than you, certainly, enough that what feeble attempts at struggling you’re still giving do nothing at all.

“I’m helping you,” he says, pulling out the word so that it’s almost a whine. “You help people all the time. I just want to return the favor. Now try to focus, okay?” As he speaks, he finally pulls at the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down your legs that have begun to feel like jelly.

“Wow.” He pulls his glasses down his nose and stares directly at your naked sex. “You have a really pretty pussy. I bet it tastes just as nice, huh?”

If your cheeks got any hotter, they might be on fire. Sweat beads at the back of your neck, your arms, your forehead.

“D-Don’t,” you say, wishing you had the guts to shut your legs and leave. But you can’t, or you won’t, you’re not sure which.

“Shhh,” he says, kneeling until he’s sprawled on the floor in between your legs. You couldn’t close them now if you had the strength. “Try to focus. That’s why I’m helping you train, right?”

The teasing glint in his tone only makes you feel worse, but it’s nothing compared to the first puff of his breath you feel against your sex.

You make a sound almost like a squeak and Gojo lets out another puff of air, on purpose this time, murmuring something happily when you keep making those noises.

“St--” You don’t get to finish the word before his mouth is on you, not bothering with any tentative licks but sloppily eating you out.

It’s an entirely foreign sensation, wet and warm, uncomfortable and strange. The fact that he keeps making positively lascivious noises only makes you feel more incapable of ignoring the reality. You shake your head and dig your nails into your palm, trying to process what’s happening as an uncomfortable heat builds between your legs.

Before long, he pulls away, and there’s a sick sensation in your stomach when you see that his lips are glossy with... with… you.

“You’re leaking down here,” he says, with the utmost of seriousness. “But I guess you can’t clamp down on that kind of leak, huh?”

You press your lips together and refuse to acknowledge him with a response.

He shrugs and goes back down between your legs, lapping at your clit with short licks of his tongue. The direct stimulation is different--tighter and more intense, and the sounds you can’t help but make are wholly undignified, short gasps and high-pitched grunts.

“Has anyone ever done this before?” He asks, pulling himself away by a fraction of an inch.

“Of course not!” Your cheeks burn at the audacity of the question. “I-I don’t, I’m not supposed to do… that before marriage.” Why you can’t seem to explicitly talk about sex to the man who is currently devouring your pussy, you don’t know.

“Ohhhh,” he says. The words are practically spoken into your twitching clit. “That makes sense… well.” He looks up at you, and flashes a smile. “Maybe we’ll get married. Can’t say I haven’t heard that rumor before.”

Before you can utter any sort of response, he leans forward and pushes you onto your back. With his body in between your legs, your legs fold over at the knee awkwardly, almost making it look like you’re displaying yourself for him.

“S-Satoru,” you say, voice hoarse, “I want to leave now.”

He shakes his head and holds up a finger.

“No way! We’re not done with training yet. Look at all that energy just seeping out of you. Tsk-tsk.” He puts the finger on his chin. “But don’t worry. I have another technique that should help… remember to focus!”

You don’t know exactly what he means until you watch warily as he lowers his finger and presses it against your wet entrance.

“No--”

But he doesn’t wait. He pushes his finger inside of you and your breath is taken away at the sudden intrusion. There’s pain and ache and the unusual foreign sensation of something inside you. You can’t help it, you clench around his finger and he coos appreciatively.

“I appreciate it,” he tells you, all honey, “but save that for my cock.”

“S-Satoru!” You whimper the words out, squirming, wiggling your legs in the air like it might actually stop him. You can feel cursed energy seeping out through you, like there’s a hole you can’t quite patch up. You fight between acknowledging what Satoru is doing--pushing his finger in and out now, sliding inside you, it hurts and feels weird but there’s a warmth, too--and keeping your cursed energy inside.

“Don’t worry,” he teases. “Not today. Don’t got the time…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the hot tears that leak out, and stare up at the ceiling. Focus… focus… focus. You do focus, then, on keeping your energy from leaking out. Not because this is training--it’s not, you’re naive, not stupid--but because maybe it’s easier to bear all of this if you keep part of your mind elsewhere.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Keep concentrating… gee, you’re doing great.” The snicker in his voice makes your stomach lurch. You wish he would stop pretending this was training. It only makes it worse.

And then suddenly there’s another sensation of intrusion, and you look down to realize that he’s pushed another finger inside you.

“Hmm,” he muses. “You know, I wonder…”

Your jaw trembles as he pushes his fingers in further and wiggles them around, almost like he’s feeling for something. And then--

You shriek, your body jolts upward, and you sit fully up and instinctively grab his wrists.

“That’s the spot!” He grins, laughing, and pulls his fingers out only to bat your hands away. Then he gently pushes you back down onto the ground. Your thighs are trembling and you can feel wetness trickling out of you, slow and uncomfortable.

“I bet you’ve never been able to reach this far with your little fingers. Don’t worry, I’ll help you…”

You push yourself up on your elbows and shake your head.

“No… you, you don’t have to. You don’t need to, I’m--”

He interrupts your pitiful pleads by pushing his fingers back inside, and your breath hitches at the sensation.

“’Course I do! Gotta teach you everything. What kind of sorcerer would I be if I left you in the dust?” He watches you intently over his glasses, the blue in them agonizingly beautiful, and he finds that spot again.

But this time, he doesn't graze it in curiosity. Instead, he presses down and strokes it and it’s like an immediate shock to the system. A burst of almost painful pleasure, causing your legs to aimlessly kick and shudder without you controlling them and you let out a primal groan, not words exactly, just mumbled pleas. You feel something squirt out of you and hear Gojo’s surprised sound, a little pleased exclamation.

He doesn’t stop, though, but keeps going. The white-hot pleasure is like being touched in all the right places in all the wrong ways, and you can’t stop your thighs from quaking.

“Too much too much too much!” You get the words out, just barely, drool dribbling down your lips.

Mercifully, he pulls his finger out. You can see him look down at them through his tears, and he tsks lightly.

“You know, for such an innocent girl, you're soaking. Or is that why you’re so wet? Because I’m the first one to touch you?” He leans in and presses an almost chaste kiss to your lips. You can taste something on them, salty and almost earthy. Yourself.

“I hope I’m the last, too.”

When he pulls away, you eventually sit back up and, arms shaking, reach over for your underwear.

At this, Gojo tilts his head.

“What are you doing?”

It’s your turn to tilt your head, though you can’t tell if you’re mirroring him intentionally or not.

“My… clothes,” you say, slowly. “I’m putting them on.” Because this is over, right? He’s had his fun and you can leave and never talk to him again.

“We’re not done yet, silly.” He grabs your underwear and shoves them into his pocket, then stands up and stretches his arms casually.

You stare up at him, naked, warm wetness between your legs. Feeling dazed and spent and tired.

You’re about to ask what he means when he simply unbuttons his pants and pulls them down, boxers and all, without a word or a warning.

He grins, like he’s just shown you a present. What he’s shown you is his erect cock, glistening at the end with a wetness of its own. You’ve never actually seen a man naked before, a few photos in a pilfered naughty magazine that you snuck out of a friend’s house notwithstanding. It’s fleshy and slick, thick.

“Now,” Gojo says, looking down at you in more ways than one. “Here’s the real test!”

His name comes out of your mouth pitifully, but he just pushes a finger to your lips and smiles.

“C’mon. You’re sweet, aren’t you? Always helping everyone else. I helped you just now, so now you return the favor. Easy.”

Your face screws up in a grimace. You can feel hot tears still pricking at your eyes, threatening to fall again. Then you look up at his face and down at his cock and then back at his face.

You’re not entirely ignorant of what he wants you to do--you just know that seeing a picture or reading about it in a spicy novel is far different than experiencing it for real. Especially like this. Especially with him.

“I don’t… I’ve never…”

He pats the top of your head gently, but strangely, keeps his palm on the back of your head afterward.

“I know, I know. But I’ll teach you. Besides,” and there’s that awful grin in this tone again, “it’s not enough to control your energy while things are being done to you. You have to control it while you do things to others, right?”

He shifts forward and his cock is right in front of your face. You can’t really look away. You can smell him, even, a musky smell. Not wholly unpleasant but like the taste on your lips from his own, there’s an earthiness to it. A primal sense.

You want to run. You should. Others would in this situation, wouldn’t they? But he’ll just bring you back, if you do. Or worse, let you go and… who knows what he might say to others? At least if you do what he wants, he can’t do anything worse than this.

You hope.

“What do I do?” You whisper.

He releases his grip on your head only to clap his hands twice.

“There’s my girl! You’ve got the right spirit.” He beams down at you and you hate how the blue of his eye peeks through the top of his glasses and the way his smile should make you feel good, but only makes you squirm.

He shifts forward again until his cock brushes up against your cheek. You gasp and lean backward, only to find that his hand is back against your head, keeping you in please.

“Open your mouth,” he says, almost sweetly.

And you don’t want that thing on your face anymore so you do, opening just a little.

“Wider. Like you’re at the dentist. Watch your teeth.” He sounds more serious. Like he’s instructing you--and he is, isn’t he? you think, sickly.

You open wide, feeling stupid, feeling sick, as he guides his cock into your mouth. He lets out a sigh of appreciation as he pushes inside, and you instinctively make a muffled noise of protest--this isn’t right, this isn’t right. In front of you are his naked hips, the base of his cock, a smattering of pubic hair.

The taste of him is vaguely salty and warm, but it’s the sensation of having something--having him--filling your mouth that makes you back your head up, wanting him out. But the hand on the back of your head keeps you in place, pushing. His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag. Tears stream down your cheeks from reflex and the realization of what’s happening.

He snickers, but pulls back a little.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be more gentle.”

He begins to move, then. Slowly at first. You don’t do anything but keep your mouth open, keep your tongue pressed flat to avoid touching his cock, though you soon find this to be an impossible task. You can’t help but gag a little when he pushes, but at least he seems to be trying to avoid doing it on purpose.

It’s a small mercy, you think, though what counts for “mercy” right now is highly debatable.

Your cheeks are hot like fire as you begin to taste more of him, feel more of him. He’s inside you, all flesh and warmth, an extension of himself that he’s using to--to what? Tease you? Use you? Something else?

He begins to move faster, and you gag, trying to mumble his name in plea around his cock. He groans and the hand on your head grips harder.

“Oh, fuck, don’t do that. I won’t be able to control myself.”

You want to sob but you’re afraid of moving your mouth so much. The tears fall down your face, regardless.

“Good girl, you’re being so good… you were born for this, weren’t you?”

When you look up, Satoru is looking down at you the way you think someone might look at a nice collectible figurine. A precious item to be touched and dusted at whim.

“Born to be a good sorcerer’s wife,” he continues, and it’s almost as if he’s talking more to himself than to you. “That’s what we’re doing now, aren’t we? Practicing that? There’s all sorts of training for sorcerers, you know…” His thrusts begin to get less controlled, quicker. “Practicing controlling energy… controlling techniques… all those little nuances of life as a sorcerer. Like this.” The thrusts are so quick that you start making helpless noises around them, little grunts. “You’d be a good wife, m-maybe--” His breath hitches, the first time you’ve heard him lose control. “Even a good mother, after a while.”

You make a sound of protest--it’s the last thing you want to be thinking of right now--but he shushes you and starts thrusting sloppily, clearly lost in his thoughts. “You’ve even got nice big tits, don’t you? Perfect for breastfeeding or, fuck, holding onto while we fuck…” He sighs, languid. “I’ll try that next time, okay? Gotta be patient.”

His words seep into you like cursed energy, confusing (it is true, you were raised to be a wife, raised to have children,--but this?) and hurtful and twisting in your stomach.

Suddenly he pulls himself out of your mouth. Your lips make a wet plop and you open them to start to ask what he’s doing, but you don’t have the time to ask, because there’s suddenly something warm and thick all over your face. Something lands on your lashes and you blink, feeling a salty sting on your eye.

Your pussy clenches and you don’t know why.

As you sit there, shocked, dazed, you hear a click.

Oh.

He took a picture.

You wipe at your eye, cringing at the feeling of something wet and globby on your hands, and look at him with wide, teary eyes.

“Just for safekeeping,” he says, tucking the phone into his pocket. “Wouldn’t want this to get out, would you? Would definitely put a damper on your marriage prospects…”

There’s no reason you shouldn’t sob, now, without Gojo in your mouth. So you do. Your face crumples and everything that just happened hits you all at once, until you’re weeping pitifully in front of him.

You’re dimly aware of him leaning down before he pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his cum off your face like he’s wiping at a bit of stubborn dirt. He wipes at your tears with his fingers, at least.

“Don’t be so glum! You did great!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and straightens up.

“I’ll be sure to tell your father about your improvements in cursed energy control. He’ll be happy, don’t you think?”

You don’t answer, because you don’t have words anymore.

He leaves, his footsteps receding loud. You don’t watch him go. Instead you sit there in the same position, naked, wet, feeling sticky and used.

And like that, you’re alone again.

You don’t try to dampen down the energy that leaks from you this time.

#gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #afterwitch writes

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another-lost-mc · 2 years ago

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Oral Distraction Scenarios | LUCIFER, LEVIATHAN, SATAN and BEELZEBUB 2.6k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Smutty Content warnings: Oral sex as stress relief, some hurt/comfort, dom/sub undertones (squinting @ Lucifer), demon form mentioned (Levi), dirty talk, suggestive comments.

LUCIFER

Lucifer humors you when he lets you push his chair away from his desk. By the time you kneel at his feet, he’s already leaning his chin on his hand and smirking down at you.

“Make this worth my while,” he challenges you. When you put your hands on his knees and slide your palms up his thighs, he spreads his legs to make more room for you. You push his thighs apart even more just to prove a point, even though you know he’s keeping track of all your moments of bratty defiance for later.

His cock is already hard and straining against his slacks by the time you unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper with your teeth. You nuzzle against his cock through his silk boxer briefs and feel the hint of dampness from his leaking tip. You glance at his face as you pull his cock free. He’s staring at you with dark eyes and he’s still like a predator. You lick the wet head of his cock and slide your lips down his shaft, but even with his cock in your mouth, it still feels like he has all the power.

“You were worried I was working too much, but you just wanted an excuse to suck my cock, didn’t you?” he asks you, but his teasing façade cracks. His voice is a bit breathier than usual, and he bites his lip to muffle his groans. One of his hands is clenched on his armrest while the other cradles the back of your head. It’s a firm weight on your neck to encourage the slow, wet glide of your lips; he’s not pushing or pulling you faster or deeper than you want to go.

One of your hands steadies his cock while you draw him deep into your mouth until your nose brushes against the soft hair at his base. You let him feel you gag around him before you drag your lips back up again. You take a moment to suck on the head of his cock and lap up the pre-cum pooling at the tip before you repeat the motion over and over again.

Your other hand is resting on his thigh, and you can feel the subtle tremor in his legs as his orgasm approaches. The bitten-off curses he mutters under his breath signal his impending release, and you bob your head on his cock with fervor so he finally comes with a low groan. His cum floods your mouth and you intentionally pull back so the last drops ooze from his cock and onto your lips. He tracks the movement of your tongue when you swipe it across your mouth and swallow.

He reaches down with a gloved finger and collects the traces of him that you missed. He taps your bottom lip and you suck the digit into your mouth obediently. The salty musk of his cum is laced with a touch of leather, and you let his finger slide from your mouth with a pop .

“Perhaps I’ll join you in bed after all,” he murmurs. Your cheeks grow warm from his praise and the look of fondness and lust swirling in his eyes. His cock stirs between his legs, and he gasps when you surprise him and lean forward once more.

Maybe next time when you ask him to take a break, he won’t be so stubborn.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan flails in his computer chair when you dart under his desk. You’ve been reading in his tub and listening to him grow more and more frustrated with how his raid’s been going. By the time his guild stops for a break, Levi’s body is tense and his fingers tap angrily against the keyboard like he’s resisting the urge to pick it up and snap it over his knee. He didn’t even notice your approach until you settled on your knees between his legs. He’s in a t-shirt and loose sweatpants which makes things so much easier.

“Wait, what are you–?” he starts to ask, but the question dies in his throat when you palm his cock through his pants. He’s not hard, but you can feel his cock twitch beneath your hand and you bite your lip. You stroke him gently, encouraging his cock to full hardness.

“Let me help you relax, baby,” you murmur and gaze at him with a hint of a pout pursing your lips. His ears turn pink from your little pet name for him. Your lips curl into a satisfied smile when he swallows thickly and nods.

“Uhh…o-okay, but there’s only a few minutes left on the break timer,” he warns you when his eyes dart to his monitor.

How dare sucking his cock interfere with his raid? But you wouldn’t be with him if you weren’t willing to compromise for his hobbies.

“Of course,” you reassure him. You tug on the waistband of his pants and he lifts his hips so you can slide them down his thighs to his knees. He’s naked under his sweatpants and his cock is hard and twitching for you. “You might want to mute your mic.”

He flicks a switch on his headset and he looks like he wants to ask you why, but he throws his head back against his hair with a loud moan when you swallow him down in one slick move. You bob your head faster than you’d normally like, but you’re desperate to make him come before he gets distracted again by his game.

He’s chasing his pleasure and you know he won’t last long. He’s thrusting into your mouth with shallow movements of his hips, not enough to choke you, but it makes the whole thing feel even more sloppy and rushed and hot. His arm is thrown over his eyes and he’s chanting your name under his breath along with an incoherent litany of slurred curses and satisfied moans. “I’m so close I don’t think I can–wait, yeah, oh fuck, right there, yes, yes, yes, please—!”

His whiny pleas join the chorus of slick sounds made by your lips wrapped around his cock. He cries loudly when he finally comes, shooting ropes of cum that land across your tongue and dribble down your throat. You pull away and stroke his half-hard cock through the aftershocks and delight in the way his whole body twitches. When he squirms away from your touch, you lean back on your heels and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. His forehead glistens with sweat, and his cheeks are red from exertion and pleasure.

You stand up and lean forward to kiss his lips, and he whimpers when he tastes himself on your tongue. You whisper in his ear what naughty things he can do to you with his tail later once his raid is over; hopefully he’s relaxed enough now that he can focus and finish his game early tonight.

“Uh huh,” he agrees and nods eagerly, chasing your mouth even as you pull away. His eyes are blown black with lust and you smirk when his horns appear. His tail starts to curl around your thigh and tries to bring you forward into his lap.

You push back against his chest when glance at his monitor and chuckle. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”

There’s a chat box full of messages like “WTF???” and “BREAK ENDED 5 MINS AGO!” on his game screen. Levi scrambles to pull his pants back up while you head back to his tub with an eager bounce in your step.

It’s less than fifteen minutes later when a familiar horned shadow falls over you. You glance up from your book and grin when his tail wraps around your ankle and pries your legs apart.

SATAN

Satan’s aura thrums with energy when you find him in his room before bed. You weren’t home for it, but you heard from the others that he and Lucifer had a bit of a tiff. It wasn’t a full-blown fight, but whatever happened left Satan a little worse for wear.

He likes to read to you at nighttime, and despite his troubled mood, he insists he still wants to. You lay down beside him and rest your chest in his chest while he opens the book and begins where he left off. You glance up at him worriedly; there’s a rough tremor in his voice, and he’s flicking through the pages with less care than usual.

You’re tracing abstract shapes on his chest with your fingers, and you slowly move your hand further down his abdomen. He stumbles over a word when you reach the waistband of his sleep pants, and his breath hitches when you slide your hand underneath. His cock is half-hard by the time you stroke your fingers along his shaft and give him a few lazy pumps.

He moans quietly, and he stares at you when you shift your body down the bed until you’re hovering above his crotch. “What are you—?”

“Keep reading,” you murmur as you lower his pants enough so that his cock springs free. He glances between you and the book in his hand, but he starts reading in a slightly strained voice.

He doesn’t stop when you gather the pre-cum at the tip of his cock and suck it off your fingers. He moans slightly but continues reading when you trace the veins of his cock from base to tip with your tongue. When you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suck gently, he grunts and reaches for you so he can caress your cheek with his free hand. He swallows thickly as he stares at you with something like wonderment. When he begins reading again, you reward him and finally swallow him down.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the quiet of his room. The soft, wet sounds of your lips around his cock and his heavy breathing fill the empty space between you. You clench your thighs together to try and stave off your own arousal; you want him to come first, and based on the shallow, jerky movements of his hips, it won’t take long.

He tips his head back and whispers sweet nothings under his breath. You swallow him down deeper than before and hum around his cock. The vibrations of your lips finally cause him to break, and he gasps and thrusts into your mouth as he empties himself. His eyes are locked onto yours while you swallow every drop his cock spills inside you. He strokes your face gently until you finally let his softening cock slip from between your lips. He pulls you up onto his lap and kisses you until you’re both breathless. By the time he rolls you underneath him, he’s hard again and more than eager to return the favour.

BEELZEBUB

You don’t understand all the rules of Fangol, but what you do know is that Beelzebub’s team rarely loses. It was a close game, but even from the stands you can see the defeated slump in Beel’s shoulders when he leads his team off the field towards the locker rooms. You try to wave to him, but his eyes are downcast and he doesn’t see you. You hand Mammon the sign you made so he can carry it home for you, and you head down the stadium to wait for Beel.

You fidget nervously as his teammates trickle out of the locker room one at a time, but there’s no sign of Beel anywhere. One of his friends gestures behind him and tells you Beel’s still in there, and you take it as an invitation to fetch him yourself.

There’s no response when you tentatively open the locker room door and call his name. You follow the sound of running water and find Beel leaning against the wall just out of the water spray. His head is tilted back and a frown creases his brow. When he opens his eyes, he looks sad and bitter with disappointment. He’s not ashamed of his nakedness and doesn’t hide himself from you. He’s not surprised to see you, either; he smelled you as soon as you walked through the door.

The water hisses around you and he wants to tell you to go home, but he knows you won’t—you’re always there for him even when he’s too ashamed to ask you to stay.

You walk towards him, uncaring that the warm mist around you is making your skin tacky. Your thin shirt clings to your chest and Beel’s eyes trail down to where the hint of your naked skin peeks through the flimsy material.

By the time you press yourself against him and reach for his cock, he’s already hard and twitching for you. His eyes are dark and hungry and he stares at your lips while you pump his cock lazily.

“What do you want?” you ask him breathlessly. His eyes still look desperate and you’ll give him anything he wants.

He groans deep in his chest and pulls you in for a kiss. There’s nothing gentle about the way his lips move against yours, or the way his tongue licks across the seam of your mouth. His hands grasp your shoulders and explore your dips and curves, groping at your chest through your shirt and circling your waist so he can crush you against him.

“I want you,” he pants when you break the kiss. He tries to follow your lips, but you slide to your knees and wrap one of your hands around his thigh while the other grips his cock at the base.

“Want you first,” you murmur before you place an open-mouthed kiss on the tip of his cock. You taste the trickle of arousal already seeping out when you flick your tongue against the slit. When he curls his hand around the back of your head, you let him push you down until you choke on him. You glance up and look at him through your lashes, and his dark eyes are making a silent plea; when you nod your assent, as gently as you can with his cock in your mouth, he guides your movements in time with his hips.

His thrusts are slow and gentle at first, letting you get used to the way his cock stretches your lips so obscenely. You can’t even hear the shower anymore; all you can focus on is his heavy breathing and the whistling sound you make when you breathe through your nose. There’s a soft, slick noise when your lips drag up and down his cock under his firm touch. Your drool and his arousal coat his length and trickle from the corners of your mouth.

Beel isn’t very vocal when he fucks you, but today his movements are punctuated by groans and grunts that makes your blood boil with your own arousal. He gasps loudly if you tighten the suction around the head of his cock just right before he pushes your head back down, and it turns you on so much that you keep doing it over and over as you coax him towards his release.

It doesn’t take long for him to come, not with the adrenaline of the game still pumping through his veins as he fucks your throat. He groans your name and bites his lip, and he pulls your head off his cock in time for him to shoot thick ropes of cum in your open mouth and across the bottom half of your face. You lick your lips and he drops to his knees and kisses you. You’re both covered in him now, but neither of you care–it’s a perfect excuse to drag him under the showerhead and see if you can help him relax a little bit more before you go home together.

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artdcnaldson · 7 months ago

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I want to catch innocent art rutting his bed, maybe calling him a dirty boy before I convince him he can hump my pussy, skin to skin and that isn't breaking his oath.

I mean, it's not like he's putting it inside.

HEHEHHEE

yeah :((( it’s his favorite way to get off, poor baby. As long as he isn’t touching he it’s not as bad as if he was actually jerking off and touching his cock.

It’s easy to figure out Art’s routine. He goes to bed, brushes his teeth, tosses and turns in his bed for fifteen, tries to combat the sexual frustration— pray on it or whatever. But he always ended with him laying on his stomach, humping against the mattress.

Not that you’d watched. Particularly often. Okay, you’d watched from the stairs, but only because you thought it was sweet. Adorable, really.

You wait until you hear his soft whimpers, the creak of the mattress. Until they speed up and he gets louder and you have to interrupt before he cums.

“Does that feel good?” He freezes, then scrambles onto his back. His head slams into the top bunk of the bed as he sits up and he groans. “I bet it does, dirty boy.”

He pulls a pillow into his lap, eyes wide. “Don’t— you can’t tell Patrick,” he says pathetically. “He’ll give me shit for it for life.”

You grin, take a few steps closer. “Patrick knows.” He groans hides his face in his hands. “He told me you’re fucking loud, and that you fuck your bed like you’re trying to get it pregnant.”

He whimpers, closing his eyes like he can’t stand to look at you. He does that a lot. “Don’t fucking say that.” His cheeks are burning, he has to cover his face with his hands.

“No?” You ask, settle on the bunk beside him. “I think it’s hot. It must be so hard to keep your sweet little promise, hm? So hard you rut against your mattress like a bitch in heat.”

He swallows hard— you watch his throat bob and follow the movement hungrily. “You’re fucking evil,” he mutters. “Both of you.”

A smile spread across you lips. Gently, you pull his hands from over his eyes. They’re pretty, all soft and eager. Nervous like a scared animal.

“Can I watch you?” You ask, voice soft. “I won’t even touch you. I’ll be a good girl.”

He exhales a shaky breath. “No you won’t.” The words come out pained, like it wounds him.

“Humor me. Maybe your advice is getting to me.”

His breath is shaky as he looks at you, his face so close to yours you could just… lean in, if you wanted to. His pretty lips part, like he expects you to kiss him, like he wants it.

But you just move the pillow from his lap instead, reveal the tent in his boxers, the sticky wet spot here his tip leaks precum onto the fabric. You watch his dick twitch merely from your attention and smile coyly.

“Aw, it likes me,” you tease. His cheeks burn so hot they’d probably sizzle if you touched them. So cute, pink. You wonder how pink and flushed his dick gets when he’s turned on.

“C’mon, I wanna see you do it.” You lean in, so close your lips barely brush his as you whisper softly. “Be a good puppy and I’ll give you a treat.”

He whines, rolls onto his stomach like an obedient little pet, and ruts against the mattress. He moans softly, panting into the pillows as he grinds his clothed cock against the soft mattress.

He looks so fucked out— drooling against the mattress, eyes shut and fluttering, a crease between his brows. He pants out soft ah, ah, ahs that make heat pool in your stomach.

The mattress springs creak as he speeds up, gets desperate to cum. His hands fist in the sheets, toes curl as he gets closer. He’s so close to finishing, of course he is, and you really want to watch, but you’d promised something else.

“Art, do you want your treat?” You ask. His eyes open slowly, his hips halt begrudgingly. You can tell he just wants to keep going, that he’s so close he can taste it. “I’ll lay down, and you can rub yourself against any part of me you want.”

“Clothes on?” He asks, looking up at you. You nod and he swallows, taking in the sight of you. Silky pajamas, exposed skin. He sighs, looks at you with big puppy eyes, and nods.

You lay down on the mattress, warm and smelling of him. He moves so he’s pressed against your side, with his arms slung around your torso to hold you close. He’s hard and wet through his boxers, smearing damp across your soft thigh with the first testing roll of his hips.

He moans, realizes how loud he’s being, and muffles his pretty pants and whines in your hair. His hips move of their own accord, fucking against the warmth of your thigh desperately, animalistically.

He cums fast. Maybe it’s just because he’s so pent up. Maybe it’s the feeling of a person against him, warm and supple. You feel his cock pulsing against your thigh, feel his cum seeping through the fabric as he manages a few feeble ruts against you.

“Thank you,” he says softly, languidly. “That was… it was really nice.”

He keeps you there like he wants to hold you, but you peel yourself from his grip and stand. “Goodnight.” He echoes the sentiment back to you as you hurry down the stairs.

In the morning, Art makes your plate at breakfast, exactly how you like it. Stands to refill your orange juice when you run low.

“He’s got a gross little crush on you,” Patrick mutters later, annoyance twisting his features. “He was, like, asking about you all morning. What kind of food does she like? What kind of music? Does she like tennis? So fucking gross.”

Art, like a golden retriever, dutifully chases tennis balls on the practice court. He catches the two of you looking, waves, and goes back to practicing his serves.

#hnnnnnngggg #corrupting art au #need that

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lovelybucky1 · 5 months ago

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Hey there,would you mind writing some nsfw and sfw alphabet for Wolverine?

starting off with nsfw alphabet. if i get enough requests, i’ll do the sfw too. send an ask if you want me to expand on any of the headcanons! // divider from @strangergraphics

A = Aftercare- logan is a pretty rough lover, so he makes sure to take good care of you when you’re finished. he looks over you to make sure he didn’t hurt you and gives you lots of praise. he’s a cuddler, so once you’re all settled, he’ll wrap you in his arms and hold you as close to him as possible

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)- logan has a love-hate relationship with his hands. they’re his most powerful weapon, but they also are able to touch your soft skin, hold onto your hair, and brush against your lips. he likes how big they look on your body and he likes the sounds he can elicit from you with them. on his partner’s body, he likes their chest. whether it’s pecs or tits, he likes to admire them. a low cut top, bralette, or thin t-shirt with nothing underneath is an easy way to draw his eyes

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)- this man has the biggest fucking breeding kink. whether he can actually get you pregnant or not, he’s going to cum inside of you and make sure it doesn’t leak out. it’s his way of claiming you, of making sure you carry him with you wherever you go. it’s your reminder of who you belong to when his cum leaks into your underwear long after you two have finished

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)- logan isn’t actually as much of a control freak as he may seem. he prefers to be dominant, but if his partner wants to take control once in a while, he’ll let them. having enhanced healing and stamina, he can take pretty much anything you throw at him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)- logan has lots of experience. it’s not that he’s a whore necessarily, but he’s been around for a long time and a guy with his looks certainly gets a lot of offers. he’s had a lot of partners with a lot of different preferences, so it’s safe to say not much would surprise him anymore

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)- doggy style all the way. he loves mounting you and gripping your hips while he fucks into you. if your hair is long enough, he’ll grab ahold of it and sometimes he’ll pull his fingers in your mouth. he loves leaning over your back and talking shit in your ear because he knows his voice makes you dizzy

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)- logan isn’t really a goofy person in general. he tends to be more serious but he’ll laugh a little if something funny happens

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)- logan is hairy. he has thick hair covering his body and he tries to keep it trimmed in the important places, but it’s a lot to manage. he has some grey hairs mixed in with the dark ones on his chest, giving him a sexy salt and pepper look

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)- logan isn’t great with emotions. love and all that mushy stuff is hard for him to talk about, so he uses his body to show those things instead. sex with logan is passionate and no matter how dirty the sex may be, it’s his way of showing his devotion to you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)- logan doesn’t jerk off too much. he prefers to spend his energy fucking someone rather than taking things into his own hands. he finds it way more satisfying that way

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)- logan is really into the idea of ownership and all of his kinks fall along those lines. he likes to be dominant and he wants his partners to address him with respect during play. sir works, but he is partial to daddy, especially when playing into the age gap between you two. logan never shies away from brat taming and will give a good, solid punishment when needed, but sometimes he’s lazy and just wants a good little sub to do with as he pleases.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)- anywhere private. he isn’t too picky about where, as long as you two have enough time to do want you want without being interrupted. there isn’t much privacy at the mansion, so he seeks out moments to get you alone. then he can be as filthy as he wants and no one is at risk of walking in on you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)- bratting is the easiest way to turn him on. he can’t resist the urge to shut up a mouthy little brat. teasing him, playfully insulting him, pushing all of his buttons and daring him to do something about it is a sure fire way to get some kind of reaction out of him. it may leave your ass stinging, but it works nonetheless

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)- maybe this is controversial, but i don’t think there’s much he wouldn’t do. he’s open to new things and no physical harm can be done to him, so he would only draw the line at doing things that can do serious harm to his partner

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)- logan likes receiving oral, but he uses it mostly as a punishment for you. if you’re talking back, getting a bit too mouthy for his taste, he’ll stick his dick in your mouth to shut you up. when it comes to giving, he prefers to eat it from the back. he likes the feeling of his partners pressing up against his face as he explores them with his tongue

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)- like everything with logan, sex with him is rough. bruising fingers, fast paced, teeth sinking into skin, pulling hair. he’ll slow down to tease you, keep you on edge as a punishment, but he prefers to pin you down and fuck you stupid

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)- logan doesn’t really do quickies. he’s never that desperate for sex to rush it, and he would much rather take his time to throughly wreck you. if you’re the desperate one, he may ablidge and give you a quick fuck to calm you down, but that’s not his preferred kind of sex

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)- as i’ve said, logan is pretty experienced. there isn’t much he hasn’t tried at least once, but he’s open to anything new

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)- he can go all night and into the next morning. logan can fuck as long as you’re able to keep going, so him running out of steam is never something you’ll have to worry about

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)- logan is old fashioned when it comes to toys. he’s not really into them. if he wants to hold you down, he can do it with his own hands. if he wants to make you cum, it’ll be on his own dick. he doesn’t really care if you use them on yourself, but he prefers to do all the hard work himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)- logan is a huge fucking tease. he enjoys having control over your pleasure and will often edge you, sometimes as punishment and sometimes just because he feels like being a dick. he’ll also verbally tease you by calling you names and babying you, all in good fun, of course

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)- logan isn’t too loud during sex. he’ll grunt and growl, but they will mostly be quiet and in your ear. he doesn’t shy away from dirty talk, however. he may not say much in daily life, but that’s what makes the filthy words he says to you so much more impactful

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)- when it comes to letting his partners take control, logan is a bit of a masochist. no real harm can come to him, and after decades of fighting and sustaining injuries, the pain doesn’t bother him. in fact, the right kind of pain can be pleasurable for him

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)- i think you have a pretty good idea of what’s going on under his clothes. he’s so muscular, all hard planes and thick limbs. his dick certainly matches the rest of his body; the thick length and vein leaving nothing to be desired

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)- logan can go a while without sex. he may be physically in peak condition, but mentally he’s ancient. if he’s worked up, he’ll seek out sex, but sometimes he’d rather just relax with a newspaper and his cigar

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)- logan is a tired old man. once all the aftercare is done, he’s going to fall asleep with you in his arms. good luck getting his dead weight off you; you’ll be stuck like that until he wakes up.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #logan #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine fanfic #deadpool & wolverine #x men #x men fanfiction #x men smut

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toxicanonymity · 11 months ago

Text

3:00 special.

3.5k words, slasher!Joel x f!reader | Slasher Joel SUMMARY: One shot - Joel entertains himself while you sleep, then makes good on his promise to ruin you in the morning. Title from his playlist, song - Stop Playing. WARNINGS: I8+ dubious consent p in v sex, degradation, toy, vag fisting, dark humor, dark character, slasher typical regard for realism. creator chooses not to warn further detail but happy to answer Qs. hope my editing isn't too bad. A/N: Thank you so much everyone for the comments, mood boards, asks. Y'all make this AU fun to write and interactive. @toxicfics for notifs (how to see notifs all in one place) @toxicrecs for recs. dividers by @gasolinerainbowpuddles.

It's well after midnight. Joel is normally awake and on call at this hour. In fact, he’s on call right now, but he couldn't tell you where his phone is. You’re asleep under his arm, and he’s not tired enough to drift off. He shuts his eyes and thinks about what he wants to do to you.

Cockslut like you has gotta have toys lyin’ around. Prolly can’t go 12 hours without gettin’ your gash stuffed.

He cautiously lifts his arm off your back, slides out of bed, and tiptoes over to the window to get a little more moonlight in there. Then, he goes to your nightstand. You sigh in your sleep.

He opens the drawer and rolls his eyes in disappointment when there’s only one satin bag. Just a vibrator. Then he sees the corner of a dark, suede box sticking out from under your bed. Jackpot. You’re sleeping face down, and your arm is dangling off the bed, fingers nearly grazing the corner of the box. He manages to pull it out from under the bed without disturbing you. There’s another one behind it, too.

He sits on his knees and opens the box. Oh yeah. You’ve got all sorts of dildos, dongs, rabbits, there’s like six cocks in this box. There’s lube, a strap, suction cups. So many possibilities, he can’t think straight. God damn.

He picks up the biggest dick. He wraps his hand around it. Aren’t these things supposed to be bigger than real ones? Especially for a size queen like you. You must be using more than one at a time. He imagines you smashing two of them together and sitting on them, letting out a slutty moan as you sink down.

He’s hard as a rock. Your phone lights up on the nightstand, and he looks at it. It’s 2:33 and there’s a pop-up notification. It has a flame logo with the text, “Darren and 18 others are waiting for your response.” What the fuck is this?

He unplugs the phone and tries to open the notification, but it’s locked. He eyes your hand, still dangling off the bed, and carefully presses the screen against your thumb to unlock it. He has some trouble finding the notification again. He’ll figure it out, but first he’s got to do something about this brick in his boxers.

You’re snoring lightly now, covered by only a light sheet. You’re out cold. Probably out whoring every night this week, and now you’re finally catching up on sleep.

His stomach growls.

He sits up on his knees, facing your bed. You’re still on your stomach, and the knee closest to him is bent. Practically spread eagle, no surprise there. He pinches the sheet and slowly pulls it down until everything above your knees is exposed.

His balls twitch at the sight of your glistening wound. God damn, look at you leaking.

There’s a trail of cum and two dark spots on the sheet under you. Wonder how many loads you’ve got on this bed. Mattress must look worse than his. His cock bounces and rubs it with his wrist. He growls, looking at your snatch.

Yeah he’s gonna ruin you in the morning, or as soon as he’s done figuring out what kind of whoring you’re up to. He didn’t imagine the professional kind. You seemed more like an amateur.

But you’ve got 18 dicks waiting for you in this thing. He looks at your phone.

—

Joel opens the camera app and carefully lines up a shot between your legs. Then he takes a picture. SHIT, it flashes.

You whine in your sleep but don’t wake up. He looks at the picture. It’s a good shot, really good. He turns the flash off.

You probably won’t even wake up if he touches you. So used to having hands and dicks and tongues all around this sloppy cunt. He stands up and makes an upside-down v-shape with his fingers and uses them to spread you even wider. You twitch and a little drop of cum rolls out, making him moan softly. He takes another picture.

He goes out to your living room carrying a bottle of lube and your phone. There’s a massive tent bobbing in his tight boxers. He settles in on the sofa and takes out his cock and balls. His stomach growls again and he lazily rubs his belly. Guess mama was right, he should’ve ate more.

He lubes up his dick, then looks at the picture on your phone. Your app offers to auto-correct the last one, and he can see much better after saying yes.

Good lord.

He has half a mind to fuck you right now, but instead he wraps his hand around his cock.

He strokes himself, imagining those toys stuffing your slutty hole. What a sloppy mess you’d be, all fucked out and stretched from taking as many dicks as you could. He looks at the first picture, with the flash: an HD photo of the aftermath of his cock. You’re really something else. He’s never seen anyone take a dick like you. He switches between the pictures and groans at the sight of you spread wide open by his fingers. His hand makes you look smaller than you are. He could probably park his truck in there.

Fuck.

He strokes himself faster.

Another notification with a flame pops up. You have a new match!

Still jerking himself, he follows the notification and it opens your app.

“Alright, sex kitten,” he mutters under his breath.

A message badge at the bottom of the screen shows you have 21 new. God damn, you love cock. He fucks his fist, hips slightly flexing. “Ohh,” he moans and closes his eyes thinking about you browsing for dick, vag drooling. But none of them can stuff you and stretch you the way he does. He pulls his shirt up and sighs as he cums into his fist and on his belly.

He wipes his hand off on his shirt, leaving the cum smeared there, then wipes it again on his boxers before lying down on the sofa and using your phone with both hands.

It's this easy? He knew you were this easy. Let's see what these other guys are packing.

Joel opens a message from Marcus. Marcus says, “Hey, I saw you like coffee. Wanna grab a cup at the Bean Bar this week?” Joel clicks on the guy’s profile. He’s into traveling and books. No dick pics, not even an outline. What a fuckin’ loser. Joel deletes the match and returns to your list of guys. He sees a thumbnail of a guy with lips parted and his shoulders are bare. He opens that one.

Benny. “Damn look at you,” Benny said. “Wanna get at this?” There’s a picture of him grabbing a bulge in his gym shorts. He’s got a green dot by his name.

Joel thinks to himself, then types to Benny, “Yeah I love cock,” and sends it with a woosh.

He goes to look at Benny’s profile, and he’s a boxer. Most of his pics are shirtless. Lots of pics with slutty sweatpants. He looks like a dumbass, but at least he's smart enough to know what you’re looking for. The question is, does he have it.

Benny replies. “Fuck yeah, got plenty for ya.”

“Hm,” Joel doubts to himself, then types, “Show me.”

Benny replies, “Damn, most chicks don’t want the full monty.”

Joel squints in frustration. Is Benny dense?

“I SAID I LOVE COCK,” Joel replies on your behalf.

“Lmao I like it. I show you mine, you show me yours 😉,” Benny responds.

“No problem,” Joel sends.

Before he does anything else, Joel thinks to text himself those two pics. Mama’s right, he’s smart. He’s got her wits. His stomach growls again.

You wake up in the middle of the night and hear something. As you blink awake, a flickering blue light is coming from down the hall. You put on a long t-shirt and rub your eyes on your way to the living room. You begin to faintly hear the shamwow infomercial as the silhouette of Joel Miller’s hair comes into view. He’s sitting on your sofa watching tv. He bends forward and puts something on your coffee table. Then, as he settles back into the sofa, he does an exaggerated yawn and stretches his arms over the back of the couch. You look at the clock. It’s 3:45 AM.

You pad into the living room and observe him manspreading on the couch.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he yawns as you sit down next to him on the sofa, taking in the scene. He’s in boxers and a navy shirt that’s ridden up exposing a couple of inches of belly. There are darker blotches on the shirt.

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, voice hoarse with sleep. A better question would be, why are you still in my house?

“Couldn’t sleep. Got hungry. Want some casserole?” He sighs with the effort as he bends forward to get the Tupperware and fork for you.

“Where’d that come from?” you ask.

“Mama made it. Spaghetti casserole. Really good, you should try it.” He practically shoves it into your face.

You pick up the fork and take a bite.

“Mmm,” you hum in genuine enjoyment. “Wow, this is good.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with brightened eyes. “Ya know, you could come for dinner sometime. She’d love to have ya.” He mentions it casually, but there’s a glimmer of hope behind his eyes.

You know better than to laugh in his face, but you don’t exactly accept the invitation either. “Really?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Joel nods as you take another bite. “More where that came from.” You contemplate as you chew and he cradles his balls through his boxers. You finish your bite and put the casserole and fork down. He finishes a beer.

“Sure,” you nod, then get up to go back to bed.

“Where ya goin’?” He asks.

“Gotta work in a few hours.”

His face darkens, but he stays where he is.

“This whorefire app’s pretty cool,” Joel calls after you. What is he talking about?

You turn around and he’s standing up. He stretches with his arms wide, and his boxers are low enough to show his pubic hair and whiter skin, giving you a little rush of arousal. Your eyes pan over his body and you don’t even notice the phone in his hand. He tosses it onto the sofa.

He takes slow steps and you stand still. Soon he’s in arm’s reach and lowers his voice. “Get over here, kitten.”

He walks into you, then reaches around to grab your ass. He slides a palm down over your crack until his middle finger meets your slick.

“Mmm,” he growls.”I’ll tuck ya in.”

He smacks your ass with a low,“Ooh!” then walks into your bedroom.

You’re throbbing at the thought of having him again, but you find yourself muttering, “Said I had to sleep,” as you get back in bed. You slip your feet under the sheets.

He doesn’t waste any time before getting on top of you. “Spread’em, sweetheart.” He knees your legs apart and shoves his hand between your legs. He locks eyes with you as he rubs your most sensitive place. “Fuck,” he growls, then sits up on his knees. He holds the thick shape of his cock through his boxers and with his other hand, nudges your entrance, then easily slips a finger inside. When he adds a second, you whimper.

“I’m comin’,” he grumbles to your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and clumsily takes them off before settling back between your legs with his heavy cock looming, making you gush. He braces a hand on the bed, to the side of your hips. You’re ready, so ready for it. Your body is making space for him. You feel yourself opening up. But he gives you his fingers again. He slides in one, then two with ease, stacked vertically. It’s not enough, especially without any attention to your front.

“Look at this messy mouth, droolin’ all over, swallowin’ whatever I give it.” He adds a third finger, also stacked vertically. He thrusts them a few times, gazing at you in a trance, then rotates his hand palm up, with three thick fingers spreading you wide. He leans forward so his palm covers your clit, thank god, as he fucks you with three fingers.

He lowers his voice and reveals, “I know ya don’t gotta work. Found your paystub in your car, whoops.” He spreads his fingers and inhales a deep, hungry breath as his fingers continue filling you. “‘S’okay. Just be good for me.”

“I’m always good,” you breathe, hips lifting into his hand.

He chuckles darkly. “Always good. Almost cut my dick off one time,” he reminds you.

“You tried to kill me–ohhh,” He curls his fingers and digs his palm down on your front.

His face darkens, and his fingers pause all the way inside you. “Sweetheart, if I tried, ya wouldn’t be here.”

He shoots you a glare that makes the back of your neck go cold with sweat as his fingers slide out.

He shoves his cock in with a grunt that turns into a sigh as his girth spreads you open. With his eyes still dark, he withdraws half his length, then slams into you hard, “Mmmnngh,” with his jaw clenched. He releases his breath and sighs vocally, fully sheathed in your warmth.

His hips begin to move. “Gonna take this when I say, how I say,” he breathes, then grits his teeth as he slams into you again.

It’s like having a soda can between your legs, and your body welcomes it.

“Fuck you're tight. ‘Specially compared to earlier.”

Joel looks down where your bodies are joined and watches his big dick disappear between your legs. “Take it like a fuckin’ pro.” He buries his length in your dripping hole, you're getting wetter by the minute. “Fuck, you’re wet.” He slams into you hard and you brace your hand on the headboard.

“Fuck,” you whisper and raise your knees, spreading your legs wider.

“Good kitten,” he says.

He rails into you one more time and bottoms out. He reaches over to the other side of the bed near the headboard, and slides his hand under a pillow, retrieving a dong.

He holds it by the base and wobbles it in the air.

His cock slides out of you, arousal dripping everywhere onto the sheet.

He holds the dong up to his hard cock. “Think you’ve graduated.”

He begins to line the toy up with your entrance.

“Supposed to use lube with that,” you protest.

“Sweetheart,” he laughs, then grumbles, “You should see the mess between your legs.” He wets his lips as he stares at your cunt. Arousal rolls down his cock, over his huge sack. “Still drippin’ off me, damn.”

He cups his balls and grunts “Mmm,” before returning to the task.

He lightly taps your pussy a few times, listening to the wet smacking sound. “You’re good,” he chuckles. He wipes off his hand on the head of the dong.

His brows furrow. He uses his thumb and finger to spread you wide, then begins to push the toy into you. “Nothin’ this greedy pussy can’t do.” It doesn’t feel nearly as good as he does.

He thrusts the dong in and out of you a few times then pauses with it mostly withdrawn. He presses the toy against one of your walls, and slides in one finger, then two alongside the toy.

You spread your legs wide so he can get even closer. He lines up his stiff cock flat against the side of the dildo and uses his fingers to help wedge the tip of his cock in. The stretch burns until he pushes a little more and you swallow nearly his whole tip.

He pushes a bit more and you groan.

“You can do it, baby.” He thumbs your clit, helping you open up more. His tan tummy swells with his flexing abs and he begins to push again. He presses his hips forward and his cock slides all the way into you along with the dong.

“God damn,” he breathes. “Wish you could see this—unngggh,” He pulls back, holding the toy steady, watching your pussy cling to him, the thin membrane stretched wide, begging him back. “Fuck, you can take a cock.”

Your insides swell with arousal. It's an incredibly full feeling, but it also makes you throb how he loves to watch you take as much as you can, and he's always got more to give, somehow.

“Shoulda used the strap,” he mumbles.

He thrusts and pushes the toy another time, then says “Fuck it.”

He slides out of you, and your cunt feels cold on the outside and inside.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel murmurs and strokes himself. “Baby you're gapin’.” He wedges three fingers together and slides them face up into you with such ease it makes your face burn. “Well,” he chuckles. “Damn.” He slides them almost all the way out and adds his pinky. Again they slide in you without much resistance after taking two cocks side by side.

“God damn, sweetheart,” Joel marvels. He slides the four wide digits as far in as they’ll go, then starts fucking you with his hand, thumb on your clit. Your body feels hollow with butterflies and all you can do is moan.

He clamps his hand down to grind the heel of his palm on your clit with four fingers all the way inside you and you groan, so close to the edge. Clit pounding.

“Come on, baby. Squeeze me and I'll give ya one more.”

You’d thought about it so many times since that once. The thought of his fist trips you right over the edge, the blood that was swelling your core exploding outward as waves of pleasure consume you.

“Attagirl,” he mutters with your pelvis lifting into his hand. “Fuck, that's hot.” He watches you clench around his hand, more arousal gathering on his fingers .

The tip of his cock is leaking now, but his attention is all on you. As you come down from your high, he says, “relax for me,” which you already are. He spits on his thumb, then slides his fingers out just enough to wedge his thumb in.

Your skin is hot from your climax. He begins to push in. “Fuck,” he mutters as he slides his hand in. “Only see this in porn,” he mumbles, sliding his hand in and out gently. The thought of him jacking off watching someone get fisted makes you twitch. “You’d be a star ya know.” Your skin gets hotter at the comment. His hand flexes inside you, then he slides it back out toward your entrance. His hand comes out, literally dripping.

He eyes your gaping cunt and says, “you should see this.”

He thumbs your clit with his dryer hand as he runs the knuckles of his wet fist through your folds. Then begins to nudge your stretched out hole. You widen your hips even more and he begins to nudge inside, wiggling his fist gently as your greedy cunt consumes it. It gets easier as he pushes deeper. “Oh, God,” he pants, wrist deep inside you. “Fuck, I gotta be back in there.”

He slides his fist out, braces a hand on the bed, and shoves himself into you all at once. It’s not a stretch at all. Your body is barely starting to gather itself back together, loosely hugging his cock.

He asks, “Want more, huh?”

You nod, face burning.

“This fat cock ain't doin’ it?” He fucks you loose and sloppy. “Ever seen a fatter one?” You shake your head no, and it's true. “Fattest cock ya’ever seen can't fill ya up.”

“Not now,” you mutter and grab the toy. You wrap your lips around it, tasting yourself as you wet it with slobber.

“Cause I ruined ya,” Joel nods. “Wrecked this greedy gash. Ohh baby, look at ya suck that cock.”

You take the toy out of your mouth with a pop and reach down to line the head up with his cock.

He pauses. “God DAMN,” he says as you push it in alongside him. He pushes his hips forward, filling you up.

You sigh as you're once again full.

“Fuck, that feels better,” he breathes, moving his hips to pump in and out of you to the same rhythm of your hand. “Ohh, fuck I'm gonna–”

“Hold on,” you tell him.

He’s struggling not to come. Sweating, panting, looking at your stuffed cunt, then your body, your blissed out face, then the ceiling as he fucks you while you fuck yourself, too.

Soon, he bottoms out with a groan and pulses inside.

“I dunno how ya do it,” he marvels. “Tight as hell, then she’s gapin’, beggin’ for more.”

When he slides out of you, you’re grateful he holds you as your body fills the void. He spoons you but stays up on one elbow so he’s hovering, looking at you in the moonlight. He brushes your burning cheek with his thumb and smiles. He nudges your chin to face him and he kisses you good night, again. You fall asleep spooning.

Your engagement is what makes this AU fun to write. I would love to hear your thots, what lore you want, etc. that's what makes Tumblr my platform of choice, too. If you're shy, anons are back on for now.

If you're not caught up on night walks, consider giving it a shot - Night Walks (latest - beach walks).

If you want more of a character, engage. It's fun for all. Don't use AI, which makes writing less fun.

IDK when or what I will post next.

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @am-3-thyst

#slasher!joel #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #cw degradation #cw dubcon #dead dove au #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel miller #mama slasher

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