#jujutsu kaisen smut

[brbiekiss]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ twitter links ft, jujutsu kaisen men

warnings. porn porn porn, mdni

୨୧. satoru gojo

satoru kept begging you to try anal until you gave in

satoru has a fixation on your tits

satoru is absolutely ravenous when it comes to your pussy

୨୧. suguru geto

giving him a handjob while he plays with your titties

backshots with suguru

you can’t help but beg for more

୨୧. kento nanami

playing with your pussy after seeing how needy you were

handjobs with nanami <3

he’ll always eat you out before sex, what a gentleman!

୨୧. toji fushiguro

fucking you in the backseat

playing with your ass while you ride his cock

he’s obsessed with anal

୨୧. ryomen sukuna

he fucks you so rough and mean :(

holding your waist while he fucks your how he wants

he’s so much bigger than you

୨୧. choso kamo

he loves it when you ride his face

making him cum without even touching your pussy

rutting into you in his car after he got so needy

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: break-up, angst, hung-up yandere, anger issues, insecurity, threats to regrets

♡ GN reader

Thinking about pro-athlete ex-boyfriend… 

You know, the one you broke up with because he couldn't focus on anything but his career, the one you just couldn’t stand by and watch any longer as he nearly ran his health into the ground—not to mention your relationship—all to reach his goals.

He’d been so mean—meaner than you ever thought possible when you told him you couldn’t do this anymore—said it was a real class act of you to abandon him now when it mattered most. He’d made it about you not wanting a no-known sportsman for a boyfriend, how you never believed in him anyway, how you never cheered for him, how he thinks you don’t even want to see him succeed. 

He’d been so loud and so ugly you’d been in shock for weeks afterward, unable to wrap your head around it. You didn’t even dare tell anyone—feeling it was a beast of burden you ought to keep for yourself. Oddly enough, you felt that if anyone knew or saw him like that, it would be not just detrimental to him and his image but embarrassing for you both.

And you hadn't spoken to him since. At least not face-to-face. He’d sent you a few drunk texts then and there, which you’d replied to in short, though mostly ignored. You’d thought about blocking him at one point, but you didn’t want to be dramatic, either. And suppose, in some way, you were still waiting for an apology.

But months passed, and nothing like it ever came, and so, instead of being bitter, you accepted that was just how the two of you ended. And that was that. 

Still, it's a little awkward. You wonder if you should congratulate him on his rise in popularity, how he’s finally getting all those long hours spent training back in full—but somehow, you feel it would just sound petty coming from you. And so, you don’t bother.

He’s got other people in his life cheering him on now—he doesn’t need a measly text from his ex. No, it's better to leave it be, is what you think.

Which is why it’s surprising when you get the dinner invitation. 

And following the initial surprise, you don’t really know what to expect of it either. But you end up accepting—some part out of curiosity, wondering what he might want after all this time, and another part hopeful it was to finally address the awful break up so that the both of you could move on without it hanging heavy over your heads and hearts.

This, however, was the last thing you had in mind when sitting down with him for the first time in a long time.

“Will you marry me?”

Your whole body flares up with something reminiscent of the feeling when you trip and fall—that type of split burn that rushes through you from head to toe and then leaves you feeling cold all over. Heart in your throat, you’re speechless.

Or no, you just don’t know where to begin.

“What are you doing?” you end up accusing—a little too harshly, maybe, but who could blame you? Looking around, you’re glad your table’s in a more private sector of the restaurant before you look back at him, eyes wide and brows knit. 

“I–we broke up a year ago and haven’t seen each other since—and you’re—” Your eyes fall back to the thing in his hands. It’s an outrageous ring. “Asking me to marry you?”

He makes no move to withdraw the offer—keeping his hands where they are, on your side of the table. “You said yes to the dinner. That must mean something. I thought—”

“Yeah. It means that I still worry about you,” you say. “It doesn't mean–”

“I fought my way up. I’m finally at the top,” he cuts you off in earnest. “I’m the best, and the world finally knows it now–”

“I don't care about any of that,” you state, feeling it should have been something you told him from the very beginning. “I'm sorry. But I never cared about you being the best. I just wanted…”

You just wanted the two of you to be like other couples—together and happy. You just wanted that to be enough, but it never was for him.

“Never mind…” you end up saying. “I think I should go.”

You’re about to get up when his hand, suddenly around your wrist, tightens in a harsh grip.

“I don't think you understand,” he utters, voice lowered with a hint of a growl. “It’s either this ring or I bury you in rumors that won’t leave you a moment’s worth of peace.” 

You go stiff while looking back at him.

Did he just… did he just threaten you?

You blink. He's got that same warped expression you remember from the last time you saw him, that very odd look as if the guy you know has been switched out with someone entirely different.

Only this time, it just as quickly disappears, and he lets go of your wrist, quickly pulling his hand to himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–I’m just—” he apologizes with a stutter, looking startled.

He puts his face in his hands. Then there's a sound—close to a sob.

“I’m just a mess without you.”

Goosebumps rise on the surface of your skin when hearing it. And swallowing thickly, you sit back down again, albeit a bit begrudgingly. But spotting how he trembles, you just can’t stop feeling sorry for him.

You sigh. “No, you’re not. You just…” Reaching across the table, you stroke his arm. “You just lose your head a little sometimes, that’s all.” 

He peaks up from his hands. A sheen under his eyes reflects the ceiling light, and your heart twists in your chest.

He really is a mess.

“But I know you…” you try smiling. “You were always destined for greatness.”

He takes your offered hand in his, stroking it, then sniffs, voice fluttering weakly, “Yeah, well…”

He keeps his head low, resting it in his other hand as if he just couldn't muster the strength to sit straight or even attempt to pull himself together.

“If I'm such a great guy, why wouldn’t you stay?”

He sounds as if he’s been holding things back for the entirety of the year since you left. Broken now... it's all spilling out.

“Because," you start, even though your throat’s tight and you’re fighting back tears of your own, your mind hasn’t changed.

You didn’t come here to get back together. 

"You want to go places, I just can’t follow.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Enji ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ BLLK – Reo, Isagi, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Karasu, Shido ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Sakura, Suo, Kaji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[oreo-creampies]

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral, vibrating dildo, some dumbification, manhandling, squirting for the first time, praise, overstimulation

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @gonjie: i saw a post saying requests are open? need some Gojo content to cope rn plz maybe it's the first time with Gojo and he makes you squirt, which you've never done before. i feel like going from ordinary/mediocre men to Gojo would be such an overwhelming experience

Oreo: they are open and sorry this took forever for me to get to. 🥲 Satoru would be a huge jump from the guys you normally hook up with 😩

You’re craving more of the immense mind breaking pleasure of Satoru’s relentless tongue. “Fuck right there! Please toru don’t stop! Fuck I’ve been wanting to cum on your pretty face since I saw you.”

Straddling his face, tightly holding onto Satoru’s fluffy, soft hair. He’s so strong, easily holding you on his shoulders, straddling his face. His hand on your hip keeping you steady.

You’re losing your ability to think, loudly moaning, your thighs trembles, clenching his beautiful face. “Cummed! I-I-nnn cummed! Nn!” Satoru’s relentless, captivated by eating and stuffing your sloppy cunt.

You can feel the dildo’s vibrations in your oversensitive, puffy clit. Pumping it faster, keeping it perfectly angled, never missing your g-spot. “Nnnnn!” The toy pulses faster, and he keeps it still, pressing it to your g-spot.

Your eyes widen, stinging with tears that trickle down your face. Clenching the toy, rocking your hips, grinding your puffy clit on his soft tongue. Chasing another high, you can’t help but want more.

After months of pinning after your co-worker, spending nights masturbating thinking about him. “Don’t stop! Your tongue feels so good on my cunt.” Mindlessly seeking pleasure, grinding your sloppy cunt on his beautiful face.

Satoru tightens his grasp, not wavering, loudly groaning licking your clit faster. Stepping towards the bed, kneeling at its edge, sliding his hand up towards the middle of your back. Laying you down on the edge of the bed without taking his mouth off your clit.

Shallowly pumping the toy, stroking your sweet spot. He groans, making out with your clit. Sliding his hand out from under you, grabbing your hip. You hook the other one over his shoulder, pulling Satoru in closer.

Squirting warm cum onto Satoru’s beautiful face. Quivering, feebly jerking away from his soft tongue. He groans following your hips, steadily stroking your clit, pumping the toy fucking you through your high.

Your cunt spams around the toy. Tugging his soft hair, desperate for a reprieve from the intensity. “Good girl, knew your beautiful sloppy cunt could squirt for me, she likes me too much.” Kissing your clit, dragging the dildo till its tip is tugging on your tight cunt.

His groans are beautiful, breathy and more erotic than they should be. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He slips his finger underneath the dark band of his blindfold, gliding it off. “Messin’ up my bed with your pretty soaking wet pussy, wanna soak my cock next?” Setting the toy aside.

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. non-con + rape, BDSM, violence ; ♡ WC. 583

You wake up to pain. Your first breath is sharp, raw—lungs burning like you’ve been screaming for hours. Your body aches everywhere. A deep, biting soreness between your legs. The sharp sting of cuts. The dull throb of bruises, swelling against tight, unrelenting rope. You’re not just bound. You’re butchered. The air reeks of sweat, sex, and copper. And him. He sits at the foot of the bed, bare-chested, watching you. There’s blood on his hands. Your blood. Dried under his nails, smeared against the sharp curve of his grin. Like he’s already taken you apart once and wants to do it again.

"You’re awake," he muses, voice low, pleased. He tilts his head, fingers tapping absently against his thigh—the same hand that wrapped around your throat, that carved into your flesh, that forced you open and made you bleed. You try to move—stupid. Pain explodes up your limbs, fresh wounds splitting open. A choked sob claws up your throat. He laughs.

"Still fighting?" A slow sigh, mock-disappointed. "God, you’re stubborn. I should’ve fucking snapped your legs." Your stomach twists. Something in his expression shifts—darkens. His gaze drops to your body, naked and ruined beneath him, spread open like a sacrifice. Like prey. "Maybe I still will." Your breath catches. The air thickens. A slow, aching dread spreads through you as he moves, as he crawls over you, the bed dipping under his weight. He smells like your fear.

"Let’s see," he murmurs, dragging his fingers down your chest, over your ribs. Pressing just hard enough to feel the breaks. To make you whimper. His thumb brushes your nipple—raw, sore from where he bit you. His lips twitch. "Still tender?" You flinch as his hand drifts lower, over bruised skin and aching muscle, down between your thighs. His fingers dip into the raw mess between your legs—slick with his cum. With your blood.

"Mm." He spreads you open, slow, deliberate. Watching. "Still stretched out from last time." His tone is mocking. Amused. "Think you can take me again, baby?" You shake your head, a desperate, broken whimper spilling from your lips. His grip tightens. "Oh, you will." His cock presses against your raw, ruined entrance. The stretch burns, tears, a sharp agony that rips through you as he forces himself inside. You scream. He groans, shuddering at the sound. His fingers clamp around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision swim, to make your lungs beg for air.

"That’s it," he breathes, thrusting deep, splitting you open. His teeth sink into your shoulder—hard. Flesh breaks, blood wells up, warm and wet between his lips. He moans. Like he’s drinking you down. Like he’ll never stop. "I could kill you like this." His voice is slurred with lust, with hunger. "Fucking you while you choke on your own blood. Watching your body go limp while I’m still inside you." Your body convulses. Your lungs scream. And still, he keeps going.

"Would you like that, baby?" His thrusts turn brutal, inhuman. Tearing you apart from the inside. "To die like a good little fucktoy, stretched out on my cock?" You don’t answer—can’t. There’s no air left. There’s only him. His weight crushing you, his hands bruising you, his cock pounding into the mess between your legs, filling you again and again and again. And as your vision fades to black, as your body breaks beneath him— You realize you don’t get a choice. You were always going to die here. Screaming his name.

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: N/A

Arcane: PTSD! Jayce

Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo, Villain! Midoriya Izuku

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: Hiroki Dan

Death Note: Light Yagami

Demon Slayer: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tengen Uzui

Dishonored Series: The Outsider

Genshin Impact: Childe, Dainsleif, Kaeya, Pantalone, Scaramouche, Xiao, Rex Lapis

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Futakuchi Kenji, Hajime Iwaizumi, Kei Tsukishima, Keishin Ukai, Kentarou Kyotani, Oikawa Tooru, Suna Rintarou, Tendō Satori, Tetsurou Kuroo, Yūji Terushima

Honkai Star Rail: Aventurine, Boothill, Caelus, Jiaoqiu, Mr. Reca, Mydei, Sampo Koski

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: Seunghyeon Kang

Hunter x Hunter: Hisoka Morow, Pariston Hill, Uvogin

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru, Duke Illuster Starbe

Jujutsu Kaisen: Kenjaku, Naoya Zen'in, Ryōmen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori

Kill The Hero: Kim Woo-Jin, Park Yong-Wan

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Claude, Gusion, Suyou

MONSTER: N/A

Naruto Shippuden: Deidara, Hidan, Kabuto Yakushi, Kisame Hoshigaki, Zabuza Momochi

One Punch Man: Boros, Garou, Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Mhin, Player Character, Vere

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Error! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Horror! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @yanderedrabbles

[ryuucam]

this is so real !! you’re not even dating yet, he hasn’t worked up the courage to ask you to go check out that coffee shop nearby, but he’s oh so in love with you. completely stunned with the way you move, talk, head over heels with watching you hang out with your friends. his friends, on the other hand, are busy laughing at him, cackling as he hastily places his jacket over his lap. he doesn’t mind though, he doesn’t even listen to them because he’s so entranced with how good your legs look in these shorts.

he knows he’s being a real loser, a gross one at that, but he’s just so nervous. you don’t put two and two together, thankfully, and you just think he has a deeply rooted adversity against you, with the way he avoids you like the black plague. what you don’t know, is that he spends his nights pawing at his cock, desperately trying to relieve himself but he just can’t stop leaking sticky fluid, tip all red and angry and balls still heavy with cum. he thinks he’s a perv, he definitely is, with the way his eyes fly down to your tits and ass as you walk by.

but he can’t help it, you just look so soft, so perfect, and he just quickens the pace as the fantasizes about making sweet, sweet love to you. or maybe you’d beg him to go faster, harder, to treat you like a slut and… no, a cute girl like you deserves to be fucked nice n slow, no teasing, he’d make you his very own pillow princess, yes, he’ll take really good care of you…

oh, he really should ask you out. what will you think though? will you be grossed out by him? have you noticed the bulge in his pants, sitting heavily on his crotch? you’ll hate him, of course you will, so he figures it’ll be best to stick to jerking off at night, brain flowing with lewd scenarios of you. but when you appear in front of him, cheeks flushed and sweet words telling him how much you like him, he thinks this is a dream come true.

xiao, wanderer, kazuha, ororon, gaming, thoma (genshin impact) moze, sunday, dan heng, phainon, maybe mydei?, luka, gepard (honkai star rail) ness, isagi, sendou :3 (blue lock) kiyotaka, chihiro, naegi, nagito!!!, hajime, kazuichi omg, shuichi, korekiyo (danganronpa) souya “angry”, kazutora, hakkai, kakucho, inui (tokyo revengers) atsushi, tanizaki, poe, akutagawa, sigma, mark twain (bungo stray dogs) deku, tokoyami, tamaki, kaminari (my hero academia) yamaguchi, goshiki, ooc bokuto, tendo, maybe kita .. (haikyuu) choso!!! higuruma, yuuta (jujutsu kaisen) kylar the loner, robin the orphan (degrees of lewdity)

[2cupids]

warnings? stripper!reader, implied black!reader but everyone’s can read, riding, semi public sex, BIG DICK NANAMI, he gets one look at reader and is lowkey infatuated w her. mdni (17+)

length. 3.5k+ ….

salaryman!nanami considers himself a fairly straight edged person.. aside from the occasional drink.

he’s a man who goes by the books, always following things to a T and seeing them all the way through.

never has he been swayed by peer pressure or to follow a crowd, he’s always been independent-minded. so when a certain coworker of his, told him he needs to find a way to unwind and suggested he go to a strip club to relieve some of his stress, he found the idea revolting.

it was no secret that his coworker, satoru gojo, indulged in many of the taboo things in life and that was far from any lifestyle nanami would ever lead. normally, he would’ve never entertained such an idea, simply pushing it out of his head and going on with his uneventful day. though for whatever reason, gojo’s words replay in his mind like a broken record as the week drags on, and once friday night arrives, nanami finds himself parked outside a strip club towards the edge of town. one hand stays gripped around the steering wheel as his mind flashes what the possible implications of him coming here might give off to the other patrons, staff, and especially the girls.

he swallows thickly, unsure why he’s putting so much thought into this. it’s not like he has to stay if he doesn’t like it, right? but there’s a little part of him that wants to venture out of his comfort zone and see what draws in so many men to watch these girls dance. plus, he withdrew a generous amount of money out of his fat checking account just incase he does have a good time. with a shaky breath, he turns the ignition off and grabs his wallet, stepping out of the car and straightening his tie.

once inside the club, he takes a seat towards the back of the joint, far from the stage in hopes that’ll help calm his racing heart. the dark atmosphere of the club is illuminated with colorful lights that shine towards the stage onto the dancers and dimmed recessed lighting that’s scattered around the building. the sleek inside is a pleasant surprise to the seedy look that the outside holds. as the waitress circulates around the club to take orders, he orders a drink and tells himself to relax. by the time the waitress comes back with his drink, he tips her and takes a sip of his whiskey and settles back into his seat. as his mind quiets down and his heart rate slows, he catches the last few seconds of the current dancer’s set before she collects her money and walks off the stage. now it’s time for the next girl to step on stage and do her thing.

you.

the first thing nanami’s eyes land on the way the neon lights hit your pretty, brown skin as you strut onto stage. the skimpy lingerie outfit consisting of a bikini top and thong, is paired with an equally matching itty bitty skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination. nanami’s eyes are locked on you. he lets his gaze drift over your body briefly, but it doesn’t linger. the thought doesn’t even cross his mind of doing so, finding any ogling of the sort incredibly disrespectful.

music of your chance that you asked the dj to play, booms throughout the club as you work the pole skillfully. the way you move so elegantly, yet confident at the same time, fascinates him and it’s got him feeling like he could watch you dance forever.. literally. everytime you make eye contact with the patrons and your eyes wander towards the back of the club and meet his, his heart stutters in his chest. and maybe it’s just him, but he swears your eyes stay on him a few seconds longer than any of the other guys.

within minutes, he finds himself gravitating closer towards the stage and before he knows it, your set winding down after a four songs. he hurriedly pulls his wallet out and throws multiple ten and twenty dollar bills on stage, mentally sighing because he would like to see you again but he realizes he probably can’t. and that’s when gojo’s words pop into his head again. he could pay for a vip room.

nanami wonders if you’ll come out to the floor, so he can talk to you but as the minutes pass and you’re nowhere to be seen, nanami starts to lose hope. then he sees you walking towards the bar and he pushes his nerves aside and approaches you. “um.. excuse me, miss. do you offer vip rooms?” he asks, his voice carrying the slightest bit of hesitancy for such a usually self-assured man. it also doesn’t help that you’re even more stunning up close in person.

as you turn and face the potential customer, your expression changes into a more friendly, playful one at the idea of selling a room. “i do. how long are you interested in staying, babe?”

nanami’s heart flutters and he thinks for a moment. “oh, i guess thirty minutes sounds good.”

you hum and walk over to a table, ushering him to follow you. “thirty minutes is six hundred and champagne isn’t included in that. let me tell you everything a vip room with me includes. okay?” it would be rude to cut you off as you go over the perks of paying for a room with you, but he could really care less. the perks, the price, none of that matter to him. he just wants to see you again, just to simply be able to be in your presence is enough for him.

a bouncer leads him towards the vip rooms section and he can hear his heart pounding in his ears, nearly drowning out the music in the club. he steps inside the room and takes a seat, watching you step up on the stage. the sensual music you chose starts playing and you begin doing a mix of both floor work and pole work, unlike what you were doing minutes earlier out on the main stage. being close enough to observe you for a prolonged time now, not only are you beautiful, but he notices just how much the ginger color of your hair compliments your skin and the words slip out before he realizes. “that hair color is gorgeous on you.”

a knowing look appears in your eyes and you smirk, winking at him. “thank you, i know.”

it’s so embarrassing, but the action shoots straight down to his dick and his slacks tighten a just tiny bit. the way you maintain eye contact with him all throughout the first song is like you’re purposely teasing him, and he doesn’t know if he’ll last twenty-something minutes like this.

when the next song comes on, a more sultry one, that’s the signal it's time for a lap dance to match the vibe of the song. you stand up and look down at him from the stage, that lively expression from before is back on your face. “so what’s your name, handsome?” you descend down the steps and walk over to him, flipping your hair as you lean forward, holding onto his muscular thighs as you look him straight in the eye.

“n-nanami, miss.” he stutters, eyes glued to where your hands caress his strong thighs. he gulps as his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your arms and he succinctly eyes your tits in that silly little bikini top you’re wearing before his eyes land on your pretty face, hoping you didn’t notice.

you laugh and crack a smile, amused at his respectful tone. “miss? that’s a first. i’ve never heard anyone call me that here before.” nanami’s actually so surprised about that, but then again he remembers the culture here is indeed different.

wonderstruck is the only word to describe the way nanami feels as you dance for him. the confidence you exude pulling off such provocative moves is a turn-on he never knew he even had. your hands run along the sides of your body as you move and although he tries not to be impolite, he can’t help but let his eyes occasionally flicker over your body and linger on certain parts for longer than he’d like to admit.

it’s probably just him and his anxiousness, but he finds the silence awkward and uncomfortable despite the loud music playing. nanami clears his throat and speaks up. “may i ask your name as well?”

you take a seat on the edge of his lap and lean against him, reaching your arm back to hold his neck. “you can call me jasmine,” you whisper and somehow his body goes even more stiff underneath you. “and don’t forget you can touch me if you want, nanami.” you get up slowly from his lap, making sure to arch your back and you immediately move into the next move of shaking your ass as you’re bent over in front of him.

his eye twitches and a deep, throaty groan makes it way past his lips. fuck, why did you have to make things difficult for him?

lowering yourself to the ground, you kneel in front of him and your hands move up his thighs once again as they come in dangerously close proximity to his crotch as your fingertips graze his abdomen over his button up. with everything happening, on top of the eye contact, he could swear it’s like he’s having an out of body experience.

“what brought you here, nanami? i’m curious.” you question, a teasing undertone in your voice. “you don’t seem like the type to frequent strip clubs.”

nanami continues to sit there like a fool, simply staring at your beautiful face, trying to find the strength and willpower to form a coherent thought. he’s having so many firsts tonight and it’s overwhelming, but he can’t bring himself to leave or pull away. he won’t. “i, um.. a coworker suggested it. and i’ve been stressed from work, so i thought it might do me a little good to come here. take a load off.”

the wheels in your head start to turn and a thought suddenly comes to you as he reveals his motive. “you’ve been stressed, huh? what do ya do?”

“i work in stocks.. just making other people rich.” he sighs, a flash of emptiness crossing his eyes.

“oh really?” you stand up and throw one leg onto the couch, followed by the other one as you straddle him. you look in his eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. depending on his answer, this could be the last move for this lap dance before you move into some other routine else, or the dancing could end right here. “what would you say if i offered another way to help relieve your stress?”

nanami cocks an eyebrow, intrigued about what you could possibly be talking about. he thinks he has an faint inkling of what you could possibly be insinuating, but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions or get any wrong ideas. “what way are you talking about?”

actions speak louder than words. your hips move to grind slowly against his as you look at him without saying anything. nanami understands what you’re talking about and he responds in a low, quiet voice. “oh.”

“mhm. and that’ll add on another thirty minutes on to your time. and for this.. special service, it’ll bring the total cost to twenty five hundred dollars. what do you say?”

your thumb runs along his sharp jawline and your hand runs down his chest. he breath catches in his throat and he nods. “yeah.. yeah. i don’t care about the price, i’ll give you anything.”

you glanced at his fingers as you discussed what your vip room consists of out on the floor and you didn’t see a wedding band, and you still don’t see or feel one but it won’t hurt to ask. “you married or anything, nanami?”

“no, i’m single.” he’s still slightly dazed that he’s really going through with this.

“the ladies are missing out then,” a smirk graces your glossy lips as you move to unbuckle his pants and you take him in your hand, silently marveling at his size. “and i don't want you to get the wrong idea or anything.. i don’t do this. ever.”

he makes a small sound of acknowledgement, eyes going down to your long, acrylic nails adorning your fingers as your hand wraps around his dick, pumping him. he’s already half hard and you teasingly rub your finger across the tip, causing him to suck in a heavy breath. you’re about to ask him if he has protection when he places a hand on your back and moves to slide his wallet out of his pocket, opening it and taking out a condom.

oh yeah. he’s different just like you thought, you didn’t even need to ask him. you’re finding more reasons to like him.. platonically of course. at least for now.

you take the condom from his hand and notice the gold magnum wrapper has ‘xl’ on it and you find it amusing in a such attractive way. the condom is held in between your teeth as you keep stroking his length. your hand doesn't even fit half way around his girthy cock, he’s big. nanami sighs quietly, mumbling out a quiet curse underneath his breath.

you tear the shiny foil of the wrapper and roll the rubber down his cock, the material fitting him just like a glove. you place a hand on his shoulder and line him up with your entrance. the man’s large hands finally come up to touch you, carefully placing themselves on the sides of your hips and nanami’s deep brown eyes look up at you as his heart hammers in his chest. “jasmine,” nanami breathes deeply. “take your time, please. i– uh, i’ve been told before that it hurts..”

the concern he shows is incredibly sweet, especially for stranger and for the first time in a while, it makes you nervous, yet you don’t break character, no matter what.

you grin and give him a questionable look. “you think i can’t handle it? but thanks for the warning.” you slowly lower yourself down onto his thick penis and your eyes flutter shut, your eyebrows knitting together as you suck in a sharp breath from the stretch. nanami rubs at your hip gently, silently encouraging you and eventually you settle down into his lap after fitting all eight inches or however many inches inside you. your eyes gleam with a hint of mischievousness as you laugh, breaking the silence between the two of you, “fuck.”

nanami smiles for the first time tonight– actually for the first time in a while– his worn eyes crinkling slightly at the sides. “i know, but you’re doing great and damn.. i have to say that you feel wonderful around me.” he murmurs, his dark eyes still peering up at you as his voice drops towards the end of his statement.

you lift yourself off his cock and lower yourself back down, repeating the motion and letting your pussy get accommodated to being split open by something so big and thick. your other arm comes up to grip his shoulder and his hands tighten around your hips as you move against his lap, finding a good rhythm for yourself.

soft pants and whines slip out from your lips as you bounce in nanami’s lap, his dick fitting nice and snug between your walls with each drag of your hips. meanwhile, nanami is still stuck on how he’s got a literal goodness in his lap, riding him and making him feel good. he doesn’t feel worthy. truthfully, speaking his brain is on the verge of short circuiting right this very moment.

your movements come to a halt as you grind your clit against his pelvis and that propels his meaty length even deeper inside you and a breathy moan leaves your mouth. you whine your hips in a circle, keeping eye contact with him and nanami swears he could die peacefully at this very moment. then you resume your motions and he’s back on cloud nine.

quiet grunts and sounds of pleasure leave nanami, he’s never been a particularly loud lover. his hands roam up your curves and situate themselves on your waist, holding you tighter as he realizes he’s getting close. his head rests back against the couch as your warmth engulfs him and it gives him a mouth watering view of the point at which your bodies connect. he watches how your pussy streches to take in his girth. he believes you’re one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on, but the beauty of you on top him using his dick to please both of you is something else completely.

“uhhh… ‘m getting– fucking close,” the words come out strained as he grits his teeth, the feeling of you squeezing around him having an unimaginable affect on him right now. “you close, sweetheart?” he grunts, eyes flickering up to your as he notes the pleasure etched into your pretty features as your soft bottom lip is tucked between your teeth.

when he sees you shake your head, he immediately moves into action. he’s not going to finish before he helps you get there. “i hope you don’t mind me touching you.” nanami eyes your face for any signs of opposition as his hand comes in contact with your clit, but there’s none. instead, your body twitches from the very welcomed touch and your lip falls from its place between your teeth, letting a plethora of moans come spilling out.

nanami bucks his hips up to meet yours and it’s got you reeling. his cock bumps against your g-spot so deliciously as you both your hips meet each other in the middle. nanami rubs at your clit faster and you’re starting to get close, tears well up in your eyes from the feeling. “oou fuck baby! right there, don’t stop!”

your pretty sounds are like music to his ears as he watches your body tremble from pleasure above him from your orgasm. your walls flutter around him and he’s close to losing it, too. his arms wrap securely around your waist as he takes the lead, holding your tired body close against his and pressing his face into your soft boobs as he fucks you, his thrusts turn more erratic as he approaches his orgasm.

condensation forms against your tits as he heaves and pants into your chest as he gets closer. one final thrust of his hips up into you and his body stills against yours, his dick pulsating and throbbing as he cums. you can feel the hot spurts of semen line the condom and it feels so warm inside you that it almost has you salivating.

“that was amazing.. thank you.” nanami whispers, and you hum softly.

the both of you stay like that for a moment. nanami’s strong arms holding you against him with his face still buried between your tits and your face nestled against the crook of his neck. once you hear nanami’s breathing steady, you kiss the side of his throat, letting your lips ghost up his skin until you’re next to his ear. “you’ll come back and see me... won’t you, nanami?”

a shiver goes down his spine and he nods, unwrapping his arms from around your form to let you go. his dick slips out of you as you proceed to lift yourself off his lap and stand up, curiously looking at him and awaiting his answer as you stand up and fix your thong and micro skirt.

“of course i will. i..i’d like to see you more. maybe get to know you a bit if that’s alright with you.”

after finishing up the vip room with nanami and cleaning up, you leave three thousand dollars richer that night– and that’s not even including the money you made from earlier in your shift– and with a new regular who doesn’t mind spending big money on you for your time. he’ll actually turns out to be the best regulars you’ll ever have.

nanami leaves feeling much more composed and relaxed then he can remember being in ages, and no, it’s not just from the fact he got laid. he’s left with something new to preoccupy his mind other than work and his handful of hobbies, too– you. maybe he’s got his hopes up and he’s being too optimistic, but either way it’s very uncharacteristic of nanami because he can’t stop thinking about how he wouldn’t mind if something more came from this.

oh, and most importantly, he has to thank that annoying co-worker of his, gojo, for pushing him to live a little more once they get back on monday.

cleo’s note. hope y’all enjoyed one of the rare times i wrote about protected sex lol. anyways happy bhm. this is dedicated to all my fellow blk baddies. ilyyy 🫶🏾

tags <3 @cheezemanz @tojicvmslut

[nanamiskentos]

SCORCHED EARTH ✤ (五条 悟, gojo satoru)

── NO GOD, THE ONLY MAN IN THE SKY IS ME. Gojo Satoru is the nation's treasure, and its most dangerous asset. In a world where Supes are lauded as celebrities and heroes, there's only a select few that sees superheroes for what they really are ─ cogs in the propaganda machine, corrupt and lecherous. You're determined to hunt down the golden boy that leads them, to find Gojo Satoru and bring him down. But he's just as obsessed with you, and he gets to you first.

➤ 𝐉𝐉𝐊, gojo satoru & afab!reader, wc ─ 5k

cw ─ MDNI. enemies to lovers, THE BOYS AU, love/hate sex, HOMELANDER GOJO 😁, superhero au, cat & mouse dynamics, vigilante!reader, evil!gojo to some extent, mentions of a plane crash to be safe, kitchen sèx, breaking n' entering but they're into that, súb!gojo if u squint, fíngèring, òral (f), usage of powers, 3x01 homelander/butcher inspired, BIG DÍCK GOJO!!

呪術廻戦 : 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ( author says ) s/o to the evil man who inspired the gojo in this fic. and these scenes: 1/2 ofc (i'd rec watching to understand who reader/gojo is also inspired by). art, gojouify.

A ballpoint cap balances between your teeth as you scribble furiously, blue ink streaking across a spare napkin. The address is way too far out, a shipping container, two hours away and tucked into the skeletal maze of the port.

"This is a long drive for a maybe." You press the phone tighter against your ear, frowning at the scrawled numbers and letters, "You're sure I'll find something?"

On the other end, Nanami exhales sharply, the sound of a clock ticking faintly over the static. He's still in the office, no doubt hunched over a desk lit by the sickly glow of a desk lamp.

"Well," he hedges, ever the careful one, "I wouldn't go alone."

You tip your chair back, gaze drifting to the chaotic sprawl of files pinned to the red-string board by the wall. Photographs, names, offshore accounts that all lead back to the same festering rot. Lawmakers, politicians and billionaires.

The smiling, all-powerful titans who owned the system that was supposed to hold them accountable.

At the centre of it all? Gojo Satoru. The strongest superhero that the world had ever seen, barely held in check by Vought and international courts.

You chew at the soft inside of your cheek, "And you're sure this is the best lead we have?"

"After that shitshow at Congress?" Nanami sounds tired, stretched far too thin, "This is the only lead we have, or the only thing that I can find right now."

Ah, yes. The hearing.

The day you almost had them — Gojo, Vought and every polished, pre-packaged lie they peddled. A smoking gun to set the set the system ablaze.

And then, you could only watch the live television stream as every key witness's head popped like a balloon. Blood spraying against mahagony desks, gray matter splattered across the Capitol.

And not many had managed to escape that room unscathed. Save for a select few politicians and reporters, dealing out breathless, shaken interviews alongside an unshaken Gojo Satoru and Congressmen Geto.

You exhale through your nose, fingers tightening around the napkin, "Yeah, I'll check it out. See if I can find somethin' to nail that cunt."

"Let me know what you find," Nanami intones, a pause. And then, in a far more cautious tone, like he already knows you won't take heed, "Stay safe. And if you do come across Gojo, do not engage with him. In any way."

The line clicks dead.

You toss the streaky pen aside, reaching instead for the amber bottle on the cluttered table, the burn of whisky that's begging to be made familiar once more.

Regardless, it's far too late now to head out and check the address, for night has fallen and you doubt you'll manage to get far.

Beyond the murky glass of your balcony doors, the city pulses with sleepless energy. Neon signs flickering like dying embers, billboards — no doubt plastered with the airbrushed faces of the Supes who run this nation.

Sirens wail in the distance, and somewhere, far beyond the skyline you swear you see it.

A streak of white and blue, fast as lightning, splitting the sky for a fraction of a second. You blink, gummy and dry, nothing. Just the tired hallucinations of an exhausted, paranoid mind.

Pretending that there isn't a ghost in the sky watching you right back.

Your apartment is dying.

The walls peel like old skin, flaking onto the floors that were never properly finished. The overhead light's flickering, buzzing with a weak and dying hum. And the power outlets sputter like they resent being used. It's not a home, it never really was. Just another hideout, another temporary grave you haven't had to lie down in yet.

You press your knuckles into your eyes, willing the exhaustion away, but it sits heavy in your bones. Haven't you been running long enough? But even now, even here, you know it's not enough.

Because he knows. Gojo Satoru must have caught onto your trail months ago, and you can feel it in the way that the law often seems to let you go, and nation-wide manhunts culminate in no harm done. Like Gojo's toying with you.

Your fingers skim over the mess of papers on the table, stopping beneath a stack of unpaid bills and flyers. A small USB drive, wrapped in blue and silver.

Ah. Flight 37, a transatlantic flight carrying 123 passangers that never managed to land safely. But a goldmine had been fished out the torn wreckage, a shaky video clip that held proof of what Gojo Satoru truly was.

Not a saviour, not a hero. Not the golden boy that was worshipped on screens, talk shows and the international stage of diplomacy.

There's a prickling sensation under your skin, a slow burn that crawls up your arms. Then, it sinks deeper, heat. Your stomach clenches, cramping up as nausea slams into you like a freight train, your head spinning, your vision pulsing black at the edges.

You stumble, dropping the USB on the table as desparate fingers gripping the kitchen counter to stay upright. But you recognise the blisters blooming on the pads of your fingers, slow and ugly welts that bloom like flowers of rot.

This is no wayward sickness, for you would recognise the familiar decay of radioactive exposure. Something that's not quite human, or mortal.

Your blood turns to ice. Hold tightening around the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cheap laminate. Slowly, carefully, you approach the balcony.

The terracotta curtains are coarse under your fingers as you pull them aside. The city beyond is still alive, cars streaking through wet pavements and lights beaming in the smog. But it all feels muted.

Standing on the ledge, hands folded neatly behind his back, Gojo Satoru.

Your breath stutters as you force yourself to inhale, exhale. Slow and steady, through your nose. Whatever sick ploy he's radiating, you know it's simply meant to shake you. A twisted power play on his end.

So you hold your ground, and after a moment, the nausea ebbs. The blisters on your fingertips sealing over, cells stitching the edges of your frayed flesh back together.

You've never seen Gojo out of that deep blue suit, never without the brass eagles that pin the ridiculous cape over his broad back. Most heroes at least pretend to be human, some charade that they cling to for the chance of a secret life, away from the eyes of the press and the authorities. Supes often put on disguises, and casual clothes, something to blend in with the mortals that they claim to protect.

But Gojo?

There's no separation, no mask nor pretense. He doesn't walk among mortal men, he hovers above them. There's no separating him from the brutal power he wields — capable of striking a laser through a man's skull, or razing a city to rubble. Just a god with a PR-approved script, and the power to carve regimes into ribbons.

And yet, aren't you still standing?

If the strongest wanted you dead, he would have made a spectacle of it. Blood and fireworks for the evening news, another death used as collateral propaganda so the masses can thank him. That's the only mercy that Gojo knows.

You school your features, masking the instinct to flee. Or toss a plastic chair at his face. Gojo is akin to a hungry shark, and fear is blood in the water. You know that the safest way to deal with him is sheer indifference. If you give him nothing, he has nothing to bite or feast on.

You tilt your head, resting your weight against the large window as you pry it open. Letting the night air seep in, cold pricking at your skin, but it's nothing compared to the chill that Gojo's already dragged in with him.

He's staring. The blindfold is gone, and those impossible blue eyes fix on you, as though they're trying carve a jagged cut straight your ribcage — his handsome features stilled to stone.

You arch a brow, "If you're here to watch me get off, it'll cost you a tenner."

A beat of silence. And then, the smallest flicker of something that isn't amusement, but not quite irritation. Gojo doesn't rise to the bait, but his brow ticks up. The barest movement, as though he's debating whether or not to indulge you.

Jaw twitching as though Gojo seems to chew his words, slow and measured, "May I come in?"

You stare at him, gaze sweeping up and down, almost against your will. The way his suit hugs his body, emphasising the unfair curve of his chest, the sharp lines of Gojo's muscles, the tensions in the fabric as it stretches taut over skin. Eyes falling to the strand of white hair that flutters across his face, swaying in the night's breeze. Absurdly perfect, as if he's crafted from some celestial ideal.

But you refuse to indulge him, pressing your lips together tightly, not even a flicker of acknowledgement to the fact that he's standing on your balcony like he owns the damn place. Slowly, you step aside from the window, taking the invitation. Gojo doesn't need permission, but you give it anyway.

As Gojo sweeps past, your eyes linger on the sharp strands of his undercut, the delicate sweep of his hair, so pale it almost looks unreal. But you can see his nose wrinkle, disgust painted across his fine features as electric eyes skim the clutter of your apartment. The peeling walls, the cracked appliances, the mess of papers strewn across your table.

Gojo stops at the red string board, his gaze lingering on the photos and notes that have been painstakingly pinned up, and you see his mouth twitch. As though he's amused by your conspiracy, your obsession, your silent war.

"It's really always about me, isn't it?" Gojo's tone carries the faintest edge of mockery, that damn entertained smile curling the corners of his petal-pink lips.

Your jaw tightens, a flash of anger rearing up inside you. You tear your gaze away from him, "Why are you here? Got no-one to fuckin' torture over at Vought?"

Gojo sighs, almost theatrically, and he's puffing his cheeks out. As though he's bored, like this is a mild inconvenience for him, "So, you're going on a trip tomorrow, huh?"

You track his gaze to the napkin still resting on the table, the address scribbled carelessly across its surface, "What's it to you?" Hoping that your voice is level, and as neutral as it can get.

Gojo Satoru doesn't quite answer immediately. Instead, he pulls off those thick blue gloves, one finger at a time. His hands are oddly elegant, but you know just how capable they are of ending a life in a second, how capable they are of tearing a throat out without breaking a sweat. The very same hands now tuck the gloves into the bronze-metal band of his belt with an almost unsettling level of care.

"Well, I'm just hurt you're going somewhere without me," Gojo quips slyly, "We could have had ourselves a little road trip, sweetheart. Thelma and Louise on the open road, eh?"

You don't say anything, although you're dying to mention how Thelma & Louise ends. Gojo just rolls his searing-blue eyes skywards dramatically, as though he's used to your stubborn attitude.

"Y'know, I could jus' pull you apart, limb by limb," Gojo tacks on casually, "Make you tell me where you're going."

You can feel the tension in your gut tighten, but you refuse to let the Supe catch onto it, although you have no doubt that his superhuman senses can hear the beat of your heart pumping, every hitch in your breath.

"Nah," you bite back, "That'd be worthless. Victim always goes into shock. You gotta' start small. Fingers, nails, ears..." Your voice trails off, calling Gojo's bluff, forcing your words out as if the prospect doesn't shake you.

Gojo's vibrant, jewel-tone stare doesn't break, but the amusement in his eyes sharpens like iron against a whetstone. "It could be a matter of national security, you know," he murmurs, "I have a duty to protect his nation, to weed out any enemies of the state."

You huff in weary, mock exasperation, dragging a hand over your chin in faux-contemplation, "Look, uh, I don't mean to be rude, but can we just skip to the part where you laser my fuckin' brains out?"

Gojo just swears under his breath, "Oh, for fuck's sake," he's muttering, side-stepping around your rickety table, stepping closer as an almost fond smile tugs at his lips, "Where's the fun in that? Come on, look at ya'. It'd be like putting down a wounded dog?"

You don't flinch, you refuse the possibility. But there's that pulse of heat, low in your spine, when Gojo leans into your space. An electric storm about to crack wide as he studies you, eyes falling to the table where your cards are laid out blatantly, and you jolt. Remembering the innocuous little thing, that USB. The one that could very well be his undoing.

"What do you have on me, doll?" Gojo drawls, his voice smooth and untempered, towering over you like an impossibly magnetic force. You hold your ground as his eyes widen, "You do have something, I presume?"

With slow precision (and trembling fingers), you lift the USB, dangling it between your nails as Gojo's eyes flicker for a split second. Amused smile slipping just enough to show something that's less calculated. As though he knows what you grasp, what you're capable of.

Gojo's expression hardens for a split moment, blush-pink lips parted as he watches you, drinks in the sight of you gredily. All before cold steels locks into place once more, his demeanour laced with something far more callous, like a man cornered who knows exactly how to strike back.

"Go ahead. Release it," Gojo steps closer, until you can feel his breath against your skin, and you catch the tang of iron and clean, expensive leather. "Let's light this candle, huh? I mean, sure, I'll lose everything, doll. But then, I'll have nothin' to lose." His voice is quiet, but there's unmistakable malice beneath it.

"First, I'll take out the nerve centres. The seat of the government, the High Courts. Then, any domestic defense capabilities. Critical infrastructure, cellular, Internet, all of it. And then?" Gojo pauses, teeth catching onto the plush flesh of his lower lip.

"Then, I'll just wipe this city right off the fuckin' map, for fun," Gojo adds, a dark smile curling at the edges of his lips, "Hell, I'll throw in that little town your friend's from. Kento, right? Nanami, from the office? Because, why not?"

Gojo's lips brush the shell of your ear, and you resist the urge to shiver, locking your eyes with his own defiantly, venomously as he continues, "See, sweetheart, I'd prefer to be loved. Y'know, as the strongest, I really would. But if you take that away from me? Well, being feared is A-one, okey-doke by me."

Gojo wants you to challenge him, to hear you break the silence with something other than terror, "So, doll," he murmurs, practically cooing, "Go ahead. Do it." His lips curl, sharp fangs poking out from his glossy, red mouth, "No? You don't wanna? Well, then, I'd say you have absolutely no fuckin' leverage. Because I am the strongest, and I can really do whatever the fuck I want."

You blink angrily, breath catching as Gojo watches you with an almost affection gleam in his eyes. As though he's enjoying this, this sparring match where he's got you pinned. So you swallow thickly, and deep down, you know he's right.

Gojo Satoru is unstoppable. He could easily turn on the world that worships him, props him up, and there's nothing anyone could do about it. No nuclear treaty, no tank nor fighter jet could stand a chance against Unlimited Void or Hollow Purple.

There's no undoing the seams and stitches that hold Gojo together. None, apart from...

Your eyes flicker downwards, instinctively, to the thick curve that bulges through the tight suit he dons. That mouth-watering, delicious bulge that's packed, and if Gojo steps any closer, it would jostle against your thigh.

You inch closer, smoothly, grasping at the stray strand of ice-white hair to tuck it behind Gojo's ears. His expression widening, raw and open for a split second as he shivers, purrs.

"Say I call your bluff, Gojo," you say coolly, "What are you gonna' do, right here, right now?" Your hand trails away from his ear, brushing the high, stiff collar of his suit. Fingers gently pressing into the warm flesh of his neck. You feel his pulse jump under your touch, staccato beats that hiccup along.

And you could have sworn that Gojo breathes out a gentle sigh, lips parting around the words, "Finally."

But his cerulean eyes are narrowed, jaw still clenched, as though he's trying to figure out your angle. Now, he truly does push closer to you so that packed curve brushes against your thigh. And it's big, larger-than-life, like everything about Gojo Satoru is.

Fuck this, you shake your head, as though you're tossing away your rationality. Reaching up to thread your fingers through soft, white hair. Pulling Gojo closer as he groans, closing the distance. Lips crashing against your own, forceful and desperate.

You can feel Gojo freeze, stutter as he seems to work through his shock. But then, something irrevocably shifts in him. Ocean-blue eyes fluttering close, so white lashes kiss his creamy skin. A large hand gripping at your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

It's rough, and messy — and your tongue lingers on the taste of something like espresso, and sweet, sugar syrup to boot. The creamy taste of Gojo Satoru that lingers on your tongue and makes your mouth water.

"Tch', you –" Gojo murmurs, as though all the air in the world has been stolen from his lungs, "You jus' don't k-know how long I've wanted this. Ever since you, heh, fired that bullet at me when we first met."

His tone is erratic, large hands splayed against the small of your back, pushing you further against the kitchen counter.

"That shit went right through ya' head," you breathe, struggling to stay steady against the hard plane of Gojo's form, the muscles curling into you, "Didn't do a fuckin' thing."

Gojo's giggling, giggling as though he's already drunk on your touch, so utterly dangerous. Tugging at your top, fingers spread wide over the curve of your chest. Flicking at the sharp peaks of your nipples, "Waste of a perfectly good round, eh, doll?"

The tips of Gojo's ears are a searing shade of crimson, as he's pulling and toying with your clothes. You have never, ever in your wildest and most illicit fantasies imagined Gojo Satoru like this.

You've never pictured him so obedient, so desperate to meld into your hold. Bright blue eyes glazed over, filmy and hazy as his cheeks are mottled pink.

The most dangerous man in the entire world (or so you'd wager) has you firm against the cracking plastic of your counter, with his lips finding home on whatever skin he can find. Kissing, bruising, sucking at the tender flesh in a way that you know will leave blooming marks.

"C-can I?" Gojo pleads, as though he hasn't spent a lifetime whispering quiet threats into your ear, but now his large hand is softly pressed against the back of your neck.

Slick-strands falling from his lips as he sips at your taste, sucking gently on your tongue.

He kisses you firmly with such force that it leaves you dizzy, and the way he strokes at your cheek with a bruised knuckle is far too tender for a man who's practically a walking, ticking bomb.

He's roughly cupping your tits, kneading at the soft fat and flesh, "Hah, pretty, aren'tcha?" Strands of snow-white hair tickling at your neck as Gojo leans his head down, wrapping his lips around your nipple, lickin' and sucking wherever he can reach.

You arch your spine, pulling Gojo even closer. Grinding your clothed core right up against the hard length taut in that damned suit. Feeling every inch brush up against you.

"F-fuck," Gojo murmurs, slurring out babble and praise out through his kiss-swollen lips. You're slowly rocking your hips back and forth, unintentionally honestly, but you're desperate for some friction to relieve the ache that's blooming within your searing groin.

The pads of his fingers are tilting your jaw at the perfect angle, swollen lips sticky against yours, "Just like that," Gojo grunts, running his pink tongue over the kiss-bitten flesh of your own mouth, "N-not so mouthy now, are we?"

But then, because you think Gojo Satoru is unable to go even a second without antagonising you, the white-haired man is lifting his head. Glossy eyes tearing over your apartment as he pulls an unimpressed face, "Damn, this place is kinda' a dump. You really live like this?"

Your fingers latch onto the stray strands on his head, bucking your hips into his bulge harsher, "Says the cunt who made me a fugitive."

Gojo shakes his head, making a faint pshh, dismissive sound as he scoops you up, biceps not even curling to strain as he roughly stomps towards your meagre, thin bed. Laying you flat on the flat mattress as he rumples the waistband of your pants, hooking his thumb underneath the fabric.

You don't even realise it at first, but you're admiring those razor-sharp, strikingly handsome features. Watching as Gojo tugs at his cape, rough and coarse until the fabric tears away from his shoulder plates — until the azure stars and stripes end up on the wooden floor discarded.

"So, doll, how exactly do ya' want me? " Gojo titters, gently pulling a finger into the flimsy cotton of your panties. You can see his nose twitch, eyes flutter shut for a split second as he visibly reels from the messy, filthy slick pooling under his nails. You can only groan, arching at the sudden stimulation as he begins to crook his fingers faster against your folds.

You suddenly pull your thighs taut together, clenching the flesh to trap his hand, "Taste me, Gojo." Breath shuddering as Gojo's fingers suddenly still, ice-blue eyes blown wide at your gall to give him a command.

But he's always been an excellent soldier, hasn't he? Because he seems to be moving on autopilot, pulling his dripping fingers away and gently lolling his tongue on your translucent sheen, "Hah, I can't believe you're g-giving me orders." Gojo almost whimpers at your sweet tang, desperate to have your pussy drool into his waiting mouth.

"M-more, can you – oh, fuck," You inhale sharply, feeling Gojo's fingers imprint on your thighs, firmly spreading your legs apart so he can shuffle further back, his breath moist against your wet cunt, "Heh, never thought you'd ever be like this."

Gojo gives you a flat look, the underside of his eyes crinkling as he stares at you, "Don't get used to t-this." He's grumbling, but his eyes are blown wide, tongue darting out of his mouth to catch a stray drop of your precious arousal dribbling down your inner thigh, "It's just 'cause –"

You don't give his smart-alec mouth time to formulate any words, groaning as you pull at the thick, soft and tousled strands of white hair. Letting the tip of his sharp nose nudge against your clit as Gojo suddenly muffles a desparate, thirst-laden whine, "Mhm, mhm, fuck!"

"Yeah, y-yeah," You breathe, sighing in relief as he presses his tongue flat against your pussy, laving thickly at the glossy folds that he's desperate to munch at, "That's what I thought."

Stifled sounds prick at your ears, a mantra of words falling from Gojo's mouth, something that sounds suspiciously like "Thank you, t-thank you, thank —." The strongest man in the entire world losing his mind, so grateful to wrap his lips against your swollen bud, your throbbing clit as he sucks. Hard.

Your walls clench suddenly, and you can feel the tip of Gojo's tongue prod at your entrance. That length somehow managing to render you gummy, dazed and speechless as he pushes the wet muscle into your cunt, "Ah, ahh, 'Toru, please."

Nothing prepares you for how Gojo's long, slender fingers come to slap at your pussy. Lengthy digits pistoning right into your tender, sensitive walls as he's eager to curve and search for that sweet spot that will make you scream, "What'dya call me, sweets? 'Toru?"

Gojo's looking up at you, and if you didn't know better, you'd say his expression was almost shy. Those eyes, blue like the core of a searing star, like something inhuman was barely contained and desperate to break free. There's something eerie about how bright they are, how they seem to glow even in the dim, murky light of your apartment.

There's glossy, snapping strands of Gojo's new favourite thirst-quencher falling from his lips as he laps at you. Long lashes fluttering against high cheekbones as there's a slight sheen of exertion beading at his temple, "If, if I had known that all I had to do to shut ya' up was eat you out, then —" Gojo whistles low, the vibrations echoing through your cunt, "Woulda' drank this pussy a longgg time ago."

You buck your hips against his nose, canting against his shapely nose bridge, "Don't get c-cocky." Seems that Gojo's just that desperate for you to boss him around, because he's already turning his attention and bratty mouth back to your cunt, licking you right up until he's certain you're seeing stars.

He's still got his suit on, broad-shoulders snugly wrapped in the textured fabric. Sculpting over his bicep even as he draws you even closer, until he's face to face with his new, second favourite girl. With you being his number #1, of course, Gojo isn't afraid to admit that you plotting to kill him has turned him on immensely over the years.

The idea of you planting your thighs around his head 'til he's devoid of air has had him pulling and jerking at his cock, whimpering until he was shooting blanks.

"Come on," and Gojo's snickering at his own play on words, "Or s-should I say c-cum on." Smacking his lips filthily against your folds, fingers pushing at your clit and rubbing furious circles over and over again until you feel the world go blank, and you're star-struck.

Gojo's whispering sweet nothings, adoring praise into your cunt as you ride out your high against his face, "Pretty girl, s-so good for me, heh. Think 'm fuckin' addicted."

You're already lazily pulling yourself up, propping yourself back on your elbows as you take in the sight of a teary-eyed Gojo Satoru. You watch as he pulls himself up, frame towering over you in the flimsy bed as he tugs and paws at the thick, firm bulge in his suit. Now darkened with a translucent patch of his release.

Gojo's fisting his hand over his cock in some ineffective form of relief, "Wanna' show you, g-gorgeous, wanna' show you how the strongest fucks."

But then, his eyes are looking up, wide and superhuman. Searing blue that lights up the dim room like a torch, and it's only then you notice that the lightbulb that once precariously teetered from your ceiling has shattered, and there's a crack in the large window that you swore you've never seen before.

And clutched within Gojo Satoru's fingers, shards of silver metal and blue chips. Fuck, that hag, that doped-up cunt must have had that USB clenched between his fingers the entire time, swiping it off the table when you pulled him in.

"Don't look at me like that, sweetheart," Gojo scoffs, pulling out a cock that beams with an angry, red mushroom tip. Thick spurts of cum already clinging to the slit as he hisses, and your thighs clench in anticipation of the delicious split, "I got something b-better for you right here."

[kenpachissluut]

❦jujutsu kaisen men catching you in your ,,me time‘‘ (smau)❦

warning: smut, explicit content, 18+, masturbation, explicit language

featuring: toji fushiguro, shiu kong, sukuna ryomen, hiromi higuruma

⋆˚ lunaeanima 𝜗𝜚˚⋆🎀

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: omegaverse, omega reader, careless alpha husband, marriage problems, poor communication

♡ GN reader

He’s a little reckless sometimes—not always paying attention to the feelings of those around him, but he means well, you’re sure of that.

He’s just a little high-strung, is all—doesn’t really have the time to think things through.

He’s always been like that—ready for just about anything and everything anyone would throw his way, and just sort of expecting everyone else to be onboard. He’s an Alpha, after all—it’s not in their nature to worry or look back.

All your life, he’s been the leader—all you others could do was chase after him and just hope on your life to keep up. And as an Omega, you were comfortable like that—with having someone to follow. It felt natural to you—safe and good and correct.

But when he started courting you, you admit being a bit skeptical—weren’t sure if it would work the same way, not sure if it even could. Being mates is different, after all. You’re supposed to be in tune with one another, and you weren’t sure if you’d be heard or just end up being bulldozed.

But you figured, since you weren’t too big on making decisions anyway, that you’d just go along with it, and it would be fine. You’d put your trust in him and follow his lead, and maybe that would be enough.

And it was. Everything worked out perfectly—for the most part. You married in the spring and moved into your new house the day after. He’s a good husband and nice man, deserving of the respect he garners, and he’s successful. A true Alpha. Perfect on all fronts.

What more could an Omega ask for?

Well… suppose it wouldn’t hurt if he listened sometimes. Or no, that’s not fair. You’d have to speak up first in order for him to listen. Still, you think… he should be able to tell without you saying anything. 

You don’t even know what you’re complaining about, really… It's not as if he’s done anything overtly bad. You just feel… well, you suppose you just feel a little left out. He’s so dominating in everything he does—you just end up being swept along in the process. He doesn’t ask for your input, nor do you give it. Things just happen the way he wants them to before you’ve even agreed. You don’t even think he recognizes it himself, how he makes decisions you’re supposed to be making together on your behalf.

He bought the house without telling you, for starters. But it was a wedding present and a nice surprise, so you’re not mad about it exactly. But given how big a step it was, it still feels strange to have been on the outside. Then he sprung that vacation on you and even called your boss to schedule your leave—only a month after your honeymoon, no less. Not to mention the wedding itself—how all the arrangements were already done before you’d even sat down with the wedding planner, of whom was his choice. In some ways, or in many ways, you felt as if you were just a part of the decor.

But it’s not as if you aren’t happy—because you are. And it’s not as if you don’t love him—because you do. It’s just well… You know it’s not exactly fair, but you’re beginning to feel a little taken advantage of… as if he doesn’t even care about you or your thoughts and feelings as long as you’re keeping him happy.

But you can’t keep feeling that way without telling him, you decide. You’re sure none of it is his intention. You’ve never taken an interest in decision-making, so why would he think you’d want to? For all his prowess, you can’t exactly expect him to read your mind, either.

So, tonight’s the night you’ll finally say something. You want to be included. If he’s hiring a new maid, you wish to be a part of it. If he’s buying a new TV, you want to help pick out which one. If he’s taking you out to dinner, you want to be informed, preferably beforehand. Even if all he’s doing is getting his hair cut, you want him to tell you about it.

“Hello, welcome home,” you greet once he staggers into the bedroom, looking tired yet no less neatly put together than always.

“Hello, my sweet,” he mirrors, voice gruff with the toils of the day as he marches over to plant a kiss on your cheek.

It’s late. You’ve already gotten dressed for bed, having been just about ready to cut your losses and postpone the talk for tomorrow.

He could have told you he was working after hours. No, he should have.

You were just about to switch off the night lamp and go to sleep—but find yourself feeling redetermined now.

This was just another one of those things you can bring up as an example, after all.

“I-”

“God, I missed you today. Felt like work took an eternity,” he groans, hurriedly removing his suit with sloppy movements, throwing his jacket on the floor, shirt quickly following before he’s back on you. “Give me those pretty lips—I’m starving.”

He takes your mouth with his, one hand steadying him against the bedframe while the other works on unbuckling his belt, hunching over where you lay.

You put your hands on his bare chest to distance him, asking, “Can it wait a bit?”

He drops his pants on the floor and climbs on top of you, face buried in your neck while muttering, “No, not really. Been waiting all day.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something-” you try again, to no use.

“No talking tonight—none, except pillow talk.”

He says it with a smile. You feel it against your neck—his teeth and tongue and the heat of his voice.

You’re sure he means it playfully, and yet you freeze, feeling a little sick.

“But I really need to—”

“Omegas are supposed to obey their Alphas, you know.” 

His touch isn’t rough, but it’s not without force, but more than that it’s those words that make your heart jump and then stutter. 

You hold your breath, but it goes unnoticed by him or maybe ignored—you’re not sure which. It shocks you—scares you even, but then, following the original freight, your heart sinks, and you feel nothing but disheartened and disappointed.

And then, even a little angry.

“Oh…” you mumble, lying still beneath his onslaught. “I guess I thought I was yours ‘cause I wanted to be, but I see now…” Your brows cinch with many feelings between them. “I had it wrong.”

He halts then—struck with a sudden pang of guilt maybe, or perhaps just puzzled by your words. Whatever the case, the former rush he’d been in is gone, and he looks down at you—finally.

“What? What do you mea-”

“No, no, never mind. I was out of line,” you brush him off—harshly, and he blanches, going rigid. “Do what you want—you’re the Alpha, after all—so by all means.”

You turn your head to the side and lie still.

Eyes prickly and throat tight, you push the words out all stiff and hoarse, “I have no right to stop you, and even if I did, it’s not like I could. But who cares, right? Nothing I think matters.”

“Baby, you know that’s not what I mea–” he tries.

“Then what did you mean?” you all but bark, snapping to face him again. But however pointed your glare is, there’s no mistaking the now visible tears brimming in your eyes.

Seeing it, he stiffens even more, undaring to move. Trying to make his voice softer, “Don’t cry.”

But his acts of comfort are far from sufficient.

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

Good, you think—it better. He made you uncomfortable when he ignored your wishes, so why shouldn’t you? And ignore him in turn?

“Funny that, isn't it?” you continue. “The only thing I have against you is a pesky few tears. Would you like me to turn around, maybe?” 

You know you’re guilt-tripping him—and you’re not sure why or if it’s the right thing to do, but even so, you couldn’t find it in you to stop either—no, not until you had punished him, for some reason.

“If you hide my face in a pillow, maybe you won’t hear it either–”

“Please stop,” he finally begs, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”

You stop. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s apologizing for. And though the thought of asking him to clarify strikes you, it doesn’t feel important. Those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.

You sigh then, trying to calm yourself down. “I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to see me—to listen—I need you to respect me.”

He looks up again, this time with a deeply remorseful expression warping his face. “I do. I’m sorry-”

“Really?” you question. It's a little harsh, you admit, but it's what you need, “Then get off me and go sleep downstairs.”

He’s rigid under your admonishment. Shocked by your claims, yet begrudgingly ashamed by the truth in them. 

You were right. He wasn’t paying attention. And by the looks of it, he hasn’t been paying attention for a while.

 “Okay,” he ends up agreeing.

Sliding off the bed like a shunned dog, he walks back to the door he’d only just come through a moment ago.

Keeping a hand on the doorknob, he looks back—head still bowed.

“Good night.”

You feel a little bad about how it turned out, but you steal yourself. You wanted to be alone right now. In fact, you think it would do you both some good.

“We'll talk tomorrow. Good night.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae, Yukimiya, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[oreo-creampies]

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slapping, light pain kink, jealous/possessive!mean!toji, spanking, degradation, hints of breeding, daddy, princess/mama, light cervix fucking, light size kink

Gliding his fat, veiny cock out with a squelch. Toji demands, “Whose beautiful slut are you?" Slapping your cunt twice, stinging pain erupts overlapping the addictive pleasure.

You cry, "Daddy's slut!” Two more wet, loud slaps and your wiggling away. Trembling whilst whimpering, “I’m daddy’s needy cock whore whose loves draining your balls.” You meekly close your legs whilst Toji drags you back into place.

Forcing your legs open, his tip resting on your plush lips. Twisting your hips gliding his cock into your aching, needy cunt. Toji groans, “Impatient brat, fuck don’t wanna pull out though.” Dragging your nails down his fat pecs, adding more pink lines.

Toji momentarily trembles above you, whilst you croon, “You don’t have to get jealous. Only want you Daddy wanna be your baby mama.” His rough quick pace falters, his cheeks flushing light pink, rolling his emerald eyes.

He refuse it, gruffly stating. “How can I be jealous when your tight cunt is so wet n’ loud for me?” Rocking his hips, the bed rocking, and skin slapping. His balls hitting your ass.

You moan, “My pussy is begging for you to fill her up.” Clenching him, helping you acutely savor the texture of his soft skin, puffy veins and the hardness of his cock. Pleasure erupts as Toji reaches deep enough to fuck himself into your spongy cervix.

“Can’t be joking ‘round with me princess I’ll baby trap ya.” Pulling out, smacking your cunt, spreading your lips. “I fucking fill her up tonight, plug ya afterwards, make sure not a single bit drips!” Toji leans back, watching as your soaking wet, tight hole takes his cock.

oreo’s m.list

[aeliagrae]

Fuck—this man truly knows how to make a woman lust over him.

perv!toji and his sweet virgin gf yayaya

toji wouldn’t necessarily call himself a cherry chaser but when he laid his eyes on you, he knew he just had to have you. you’re just so much softer and gentle and sweeter than he could ever be, he craved to feel your soft lips on his scarred skin and smell the aroma of your perfumes and scented lotions. 

and you thought it was just so cool, that a big guy like toji would wanna be with somebody like you. you should’ve at least expected it sooner, that he would want something from you. you can’t help yourself! you’re just too nervous, too shy to give yourself to a man, even if he was the most handsome and sexiest guy you’d ever met. he’s awfully touchy and lovey and part of you just feels bad. you’re too unsure of dressing in front of him, too diffident to keep a kiss going, but you really wanted to make sure he felt good.

but toji loves you, so he sticks around. tells you about all the other ways you could make him feel so good.

he lays you down comfortably on his bed as he unbuckles his belt.

“mmm, i don’t know, toji. never done this before.”

giving you a reassuring grin and nod while retrieving your hand in his bigger palm, “don’t gotta do anything, baby. don’t know why you’re so worried, i’ll handle everything. jus’ sit there all pretty for me.” he snaps his boxers off just below the pudge of his cock, and god he’s big. he takes your hesitant hand and manipulates it around. you whine gently when your fingertips squish up against a vein, he swears under his breath as he wraps his hand around your pliable one. slowly at first, he starts to stroke himself with your palm. he’s raging hard and he can tell if he doesn’t concentrate on not coming immediately on your inexperienced hand, he’ll shoot. and he can’t let this opportunity go to waste so quickly. 

“you’re so hard…” you’re practically hypnotized, the way big drops of pre pumps out of his leaky cockhead and coats his foreskin and length in a shiny layer makes your mouth water. “god, i’m always this way around you, doll. make me feel like–like a teenager again.” his breath hitches when he feels you trying to go faster, allowing it.

“mhm, that’s good.” he grips your hand tighter and bucks impatiently into your palm, your hand now slippery and gooey with his sticky pre. “thinking about that tight cunt you’re too shy about. you wondering what i’d feel like inside you? inside that tight, virgin pussy?”

“toji, stop it.” you pout at his words, they are working considering how tight you have your thighs clamped. you always wonder about it. especially now, seeing his thick cock just weeping in front of you. how he’d prep you up and talk about how he’s been waiting for this day, pushing his chubby tip through the tight ring of your heat. you can’t take your eyes away from how fucking big he is. your fingers start to cramp when he races them against himself, coming incredibly hard into the air onto your wrist. big, heavy load just sitting on your knuckles and his rough jeans. next time he won’t let that go to waste!

masterlist

[fangdokja]

♡ TW. non-con + rape, BDSM, violence ; ♡ WC. 632

You shouldn’t have come back. The moment the door slams behind you, you know it’s over. You feel him before you see him. The heat of his rage, the thick, suffocating weight of it pressing against your skin like a second layer. He’s waiting. "I told you," his voice is low, guttural. "You weren’t allowed to leave me." Your throat tightens. "You did it anyway." He stands from the couch, and the air changes. You take a step back—stupid. His hand snaps out, fingers locking around your throat like a vice. You choke on the impact, spine hitting the door with a crack.

He’s seething. "Who was he?" You shake your head, panic clawing up your throat. You weren’t with anyone. You hadn’t even looked at anyone since you left. But it doesn’t matter. Because in his mind, you belong to him. "Liar." His lips curl, amusement flickering behind the storm. "You’re shaking. You know I hate it when you lie."

You try to speak—you can’t. His free hand tears at your clothes, shredding fabric, exposing bare skin to the cold air. A brutal frenzy, leaving bruises, red welts, deep, burning scratches as he drags his nails across your stomach, your thighs. "You ran from me." His voice drips venom, his grip bruising. His nails dig into your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Did you think you could fuck someone else?"

His fingers slam between your legs. You cry out, body lurching at the sudden, violating pressure. It hurts—he’s rough, merciless, not caring if you’re ready. "You’re fucking dry," he sneers, shoving another digit inside. Your breath hitches, pain sparking up your spine. "Not used to anyone else touching you, huh? Guess that means you were just being a whore for attention."

His fingers press deeper, curl, hitting that spot inside you that makes your body betray you. He notices. "Oh?" His smirk sharpens, all teeth. "Did you just squeeze around my fingers, baby?" You shake your head. He laughs. "Liar." His fingers withdraw—only to be replaced with something bigger. You barely have time to scream before his cock splits you open. Pain explodes through you, your body unprepared, unwilling. Your nails dig into his arms, clawing, shaking, struggling—

"That’s right." His voice is dark, trembling, like he’s drowning in the feeling of you breaking around him. "Scream for me, baby. Cry for me." Your breath catches when he pulls back—then slams forward, setting a brutal, punishing pace. It’s merciless. There’s no care, no restraint, only vengeance. The sheer force of it forces your body up the door, the wood creaking under the impact of each devastating thrust.

"You left me." His voice snaps, raw with rage, lust, obsession. "You thought you could run. Thought you could be free. But look at you now." You whimper, sob, gasp for breath as he ruins you. Your body aches, your walls raw and bruised around the sheer girth of him. "Hurts?" he mocks, teeth grazing your ear. "Good. You should fucking hurt." A hand snaps around your throat, squeezing.

"Because I fucking suffered without you." His pace quickens, brutal and unforgiving, hitting so deep it hurts. Every thrust steals your breath, every slam against your cervix sends white-hot agony lancing through you. You scream. He groans. "That’s right," he breathes, shuddering, obsessed. "That’s the only sound I ever want to hear from you. Not 'goodbye.' Not some weak little protest about leaving me. Only this."

You go limp, body trembling, aching, spent. He doesn’t stop. "If you ever try that shit again…" his grip tightens, his cock swelling inside you, hips snapping faster, rougher, meaner—"...I’ll fucking kill you." Your vision fades. The last thing you hear before the darkness takes you is his voice, deep, satisfied, filling you one last time. "Mine."

♡ List of Fandoms and Characters.

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

Ace Attorney: N/A

Arcane: PTSD! Jayce

Blue Lock: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi

Boku no Hero Academia: Dabi, Katsuki Bakugo, Villain! Midoriya Izuku

Brutal: Satsujin Kansatsukan no Kokuhaku: Hiroki Dan

Death Note: Light Yagami

Demon Slayer: Muzan Kibutsuji, Rui, Sanemi Shinazugawa

Dishonored Series: Daud

Genshin Impact: Childe, Dainsleif, Diluc, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, Rex Lapis

Haikyuu!!: Atsumu Miya, Daichi Sawamura, Hajime Iwaizumi, Keishin Ukai, Kentarou Kyotani, Kenjiro Shirabu, Suna Rintarou, Yūji Terushima

Honkai Star Rail: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Mydei, Nanook, Fallen! Phainon

How to Live as an Illegal Healer: N/A

Hunter x Hunter: Feitan Portor, Gon Freecss, Illumi Zoldyck, Kalluto Zoldyck, Nobunaga Hazama, Phinks

I'm Not That Kind of Talent: Demon Aru, Duke Illuster Starbe, Nemeseus

Jujutsu Kaisen: Megumi Fushiguro, Naoya Zen'in, Ryōmen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto

Kill The Hero: Kim Woo-Jin, Park Yong-Wan, Se Jun-Lee

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang: Gusion, Granger, Julian, Ling, Xavier

MONSTER: N/A

Naruto Shippuden: Hidan, Kabuto Yakushi, Kakuzu, Kisame Hoshigaki, Madara Uchiha, Pain, Tobirama Senju, Zabuza Momochi

One Punch Man: Amai Mask, Boros, Garou, Genos, Suiryu

Reverend Insanity: Fang Yuan

TOUCHSTARVED: Player Character, Vere

Undertale Multiverse (Human AU): Bill! Sans, Dust! Sans, Error! Sans, Fresh! Sans, Ink! Sans, Horror! Sans, Killer! Sans, Nightmare! Sans, Shattered Dream! Sans, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertale Chara

Wuthering Waves: Geshu Lin, Scar

Your Throne: Eros Orna Vasilios

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood. Thank you.

Official TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @save4h , @rofkshinee

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Notice #1. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution

♡ Book 6 [you are here]. The Red Ledger (TRL): Stained in Lust, Written in Blood.

♡ Notice #2. This masterlist is strictly for non-con smut and serves as an exercise in refining erotic horror writing. Comments that reduce my work to mere sexual gratification, thirst, or casual simping will not be tolerated. If your response is primarily thirst-driven, keep it to yourself—repeated violations may result in blocking. Read the RULES before engaging. The tag list is reserved for followers I trust to respect my boundaries; being included is a privilege, not a right. You may request to be added, but I will decide based on trust and adherence to my guidelines. I also reserve the right to remove anyone at any time if their engagement becomes inappropriate.

Test-Phase TAG LIST of “The Red Ledger”: @yanderedrabbles

[beloved-yeosang]

Lover!Nananmin 🙂‍↕️

yearner!nanami who, from the moment he laid eyes on you, knew you were meant to be his and he, yours.

you were so sweet to everyone, and that dazzling smile - oh, he was in love. he just had to have you.

he doesn't know what's gotten into him, the usually composed, rigid man suddenly head over heels for the pretty girl next door.

he asks around about you, so desperate to know you - all of you. he finds himself swooning at the very thought of you.

yearner!nanami who finds out you worked at the local bakery and of course all of a sudden he's oh-so-conveniently there every single week just to see you.

yearner!nanami who calls you sweet names whenever he talks to you because he loves the way it tastes on his tongue. and he prays to god that you don't see through the nonchalant facade - wouldn't that be so embarrassing?

yearner!nanami who doesn't know that his so-called 'unrequited love' is reciprocated. yes, of course you had heart eyes whenever you saw him - he was the absolute epitome of a gentleman.

yearner!nanami who finally grows some balls and asks you out and saying he was happy when you agreed would be an understatement. he was over the moon.

and you're glad you accepted, too because he makes that night so magical, it's hard for you to not fall deeper.

he walks you back to your place and it doesn't even take you much thought before you're inviting him in.

yearner!nanami who you find yourself in your bed with in a manner that some would deem inappropriate for a first date but with him - with him everything just felt so right.

oh, and with the way he's worshipping you? yeah, you don't think you're letting him go anytime soon.

yearner!nanami who is convinced that he's had a taste of heaven when he finds himself in between your thighs, laving at your sweetness and your pleasured mewls just spur him on to give you more - oh, anything for you. his large palms keep your legs spread out for him and he delves in for more - he just couldn't get enough.

yearner!nanami who doesn't even know if he's yearning anymore because once he's inside you, it feels like he has everything he could ever wish for. your walls are so snug around him, it's like you were molded to fit him perfectly and he's thanking any god that's listening for this chance he's been given.

he's trying so hard to maintain his composure but you just feel so good around him he thinks he's going to bust just from putting it in.

he finds it in himself to move when you're whining and telling him to 'keep going, please.'

shit, he's gone-

his thoughts are nothing but you, you, you and how he just wants to give you everything you desire and how he's the luckiest man on the planet to be near you. he treats you like you're a privilege because in his mind, he believes that you truly are one.

poor guy is obsessed.

and you are too because the moment he's holding you in his arms, exhausted from your ministrations, lover!nanami is promising you that he's yours alone. do you think it's a bit too soon? nah, you could live by it. it's nanami, after all.

please do not steal, modify, or translate my work.

[exquisink]

brief lactation kink , yandere geto because that’s all my brain is stuck on rn

what you have been taught about life and especially about men has been continually proven true to you about geto suguru. your best teaching comes from your family, who have shown you everything you must know about living the life you want to live.

the biggest, most important lesson?

men are fucking weak.

and not to mention, men are easy to fool.

that’s what your old man taught you first. the ones who behave the nastiest are the weakest, yet geto suguru parades around, running this fucking circus he calls a movement with his cult and thinking he’s this all powerful, wicked being. and maybe it’s true to his loyal devotees who kiss his feet or ass or whatever else they need to just to make him feel worshipped like some untouchable deity.

but not to you. you know better. you have always known better. he may have initially spat in your face and demeaned you for your lack of cursed energy, but you know what he desires beyond anything and that is a desire to, not to be worshipped, but to be loved, seen, heard—to be coddled and to be doted on and to be diapered or even fucking breastfed (and he has nursed off of you a handful of times, just like right now, greedily feasting on one of your breasts like his life depended on it) before he goes and acts as if he has the power to conquer the world with the strength to eradicate monkeys as he vows he will.

hah! what a fucking joke.

you might get off to the fact that you are his rock, his strength—someone he otherwise deems as nothing more significant than the earth he tramples on, someone he doesn’t acknowledge.

geto purrs your name as he noses into your neck after feeding off one of your breasts, refusing to give you the space to breathe, constricting you, entangled in the bed in the dead of night. his arms cage around your waist, and your eyes flutter as you meet his electrifying gaze.

what a pity, to have such beauty unmatched wasted on a man whose ego is as easily bruised as any other ‘common’ man.

you reach up to cup his cheek. a streak of moonlight creeping through the window illuminates the striking features of his face, his violet eyes shimmering with the affection he’s convinced himself he possesses for you.

fucking idiot, you want to scoff, but refrain.

“is that enough for tonight?” you ask, ignoring the urge to cringe as you peck his lips, ignoring that urge tenfold when he groans in approval. “i’m becoming weary, myself.”

“i could take more,” he mumbles, as his head dips, tongue grazing the nipple he's just fed on. “but i’ll let you sleep.”

nurture him.

and he worships the ground you walk on more than his devotees worship the ground he walks on.

"my sweet suguru," you coo with feigned affection, and he hums, snuggling you even closer than you already were, burying his head between your breasts and sighing with delight. "my perfect suguru."

so far from perfect but it gives him what he wants.

[wainawtmai]

18+!, yandere!satoru, dark themes, somnophilia

i love the duality in yandere!satoru

to you, he’s nothing but smiles and playful snark, attempting to charm you with a flash of those baby blues and a hushed flirt from his pretty pink lips. but you’d shrugged off all of his attempts, perceiving them as just jokes.

but to anyone he’d seen even remotely interested in you, he became more of the overpowered monster that the higher ups couldn't contain. There was still a chilling smile on his lips when he hunted them down, his face shrouded by darkness, blue eyes aglow as he slaughtered each and every person who dared to touch and covet what was his.

you were none the wiser, lamenting to him with a sigh that none of your dates seemed to stick. Satoru gave that pretty little smirk, telling you that maybe you should just give up. Despite the fact that he couldn't stop picturing their tortured faces and screams of agony. The way their flesh seemed to easily cave away beneath his hands as their blood splattered across his pristine skin.

sometimes you felt like you could feel the chill of an icy gaze whenever you changed within your bedroom, shuffling quickly to the open window and shutting it with a shiver, knowing there were tons of creeps and pervs around town that were probably waiting hungrily for you to take your clothes off.

little did you know that one of those creeps was your closest friend, who waited for you to fall asleep and watched you, brushing fingers across your bare skin, relishing goosebumps rising on the supple flesh. blue eyes glaring at you ravenously as he stripped back your covers to reveal your half naked body, your breasts barely confined by the flimsiness of your t-shirt, and never any underwear.

he liked to fantasize that maybe you knew he watched you nightly and wanted to put on a show. He imagined sinking into your wet heat, he could do it now, your pussy bare and just begging to be filled. He wanted to so badly but more than that he wanted you to be awake for when it did happen, needed you to watch as he buried his cock inside of you.

for now, he'd fist his cock over your plush lips, splattering his cum across your sleeping face with a whimper, then using his blushing red cock head to smear his cum across your mouth, and nearly coming again to the sight of his seed splattered across the soft skin of your face. He’d made such a mess out of you. 

he always tried cleaning you up the best he could, but you still wake up in the morning with the taste of him on your lips. You're too delirious with exhaustion to question it or your missing underwear. There were so many more important things you had to worry about.

other nights he stood over you until you stirred and woke up, startled by his blue eyed silhouette looming over you. you screamed and scrambled for your lamp light—but your room was empty. satoru watched the panic overtake your face as you struggled to fall asleep, rutting into your underwear to a quick finish at the sight of your quaking eyes and the way you buried yourself under your covers, wracked with paranoia.

on those nights you dream of lingering blue eyes and a shadow coming at you with bloody hands. you anxiously recount the night to him, his eyebrows furrowing with sympathy as he places a hand on yours.

a part of you suspects him, those startling blue eyes somewhat reminded you of him. But then he smiles at you, places a hand over yours, and tells you everything will be alright. And all of a sudden your doubts of him dissipate. They're replaced with a slight guilt at suspecting one of your closest friends of something so heinous. He would never do that to you.

right?