Latest Posts by reinam00n - Page 5

letting sub!loser!ellie—who has never fucked a girl with a strap—use your hole to practice. telling her every single thing that you feel, in a sort of encouraging, yet laced with mockery, manner. “god, ellie, d'you hear that? you make me fucking wet. get it? you made a girl fucking wet.” a loud swallow shifting down her throat. she also cries when she's inside you; with a shudder, it all comes crashing down. the sight of her hips pressing something into you. her nervous little face when she can't thrust—because you've propped both legs onto her sweating shoulders, making yourself all the more tighter. “f-fuck, you're tight—c-can you spread again for me? shit,” griping through a bit lip and strained breath. almost has to grip your thighs—with welcomingly warm hands—to cure an advantage. gets her a smidge agitated. she just wants to prove to you that she can, indeed, fuck.

POOKIEE THIS IS SO YUMMY!! YOU’VE OUTDONE YOURSELF ONCE AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻😘😘😘🥰

another wip from me. hehe. supermodel satoru.

warnings: mdni, smut, fluff, masturbation, obsession. (honestly, satoru feels kinda yandere af. he's fucking down bad for you.)

supermodel! satoru whose life is a whirlwind—flashing cameras, designer clothes, and breathless whispers of adoration. on the surface, he has it all: the perfect career, the perfect face, the perfect life. but perfection… has its price.

supermodel! satoru who, after a ten-hour photoshoot that left him feeling more mannequin than man, slumps into the cold embrace of his sleek penthouse. the city glimmers outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, vibrant and alive, but it feels distant, like a movie playing on mute. he’s surrounded by luxury but drowning in solitude.

supermodel! satoru who, running on three hours of sleep and bad coffee, barely notices when his fingers fumble over his phone, sending a text message to you—meant for his manager. tossing the phone aside with a sigh, he stretches out on the couch, exhaustion pulling at his limbs—unaware that this accidental message is about to flip his world upside down.

supermodel! satoru who, when your response comes through, doesn’t realize at first that he’s texted a stranger. his initial confusion shifts to mild annoyance, but that changes the moment he reads your sharp, unfiltered reply. intrigue replaces irritation, and before he knows it, he’s texting back, unable to resist the pull of you on the other end.

supermodel! satoru who keeps his identity a secret, finding it strange at first, but soon, it becomes refreshing. for once, he’s not the face on billboards or the name in glossy magazines. no—for the first time in forever, someone is talking to him—not his fame, not his face, just him.

supermodel! satoru who finds himself grinning like an idiot whenever his phone buzzes with your name. you tell him about your life—mundane, you call it, but to him, it’s captivating. days turn into weeks—texts in the middle of the night when he’s jet-lagged and bored in some foreign country. voice notes where you laugh at his terrible jokes.

supermodel! satoru who one day, finally reveals who he is, and with a mix of arrogance and curiosity, boldly asks for your photo—eager to see the face behind the name he’s grown so fond talking to.

c’mon now... I show my face to the world every day. least you could do is show me yours ;)

your reply pings through, accompanied by an attachment, and for a moment, his breath catches.

supermodel! satoru who has seen countless beautiful people, surrounded by them every day, but there’s something about you that has him hooked. perhaps it’s not just the way you look—it’s the way you’ve made him feel. for the first time in forever, he’s not just admired; he’s seen.

supermodel! satoru who ends up sprawled out on his couch later that night, your picture propped up on the coffee table in front of him as he grips his shaft. his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweatpants pushed down to his thighs as his cock strains in his hand—red, leaking and desperate for attention. all he can focus on is you.

supermodel! satoru whose glossy lips part as he pants, pumping his dick, his head tipping back while the phone’s glow casts shadows across his flushed skin. his penthouse is filled with the slick sound of his hand sliding over his length, mixing with his shuddering breaths.

“fuuuck… so fucking pretty…” he rasps, his hips bucking into his fist. his strokes grow faster, more desperate, as his body thrums with heat.

supermodel! satoru who murmurs your name like a prayer, thick with need, chasing his inevitable release. “nnngh… gonna—ahhh—gonna cum f’you,” he moans, breathy and broken. His voice cracks as his back arches off the couch.

supermodel! satoru whose strokes grow frantic, erratic, his abs flexing tight as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his stomach, painting his skin in sticky streaks of white. the release leaves him trembling, every drop wrung from his body as a low groan escapes his parted lips.

supermodel! satoru who exhales a quiet laugh, his chest heaving as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he trails his fingers through the mess, smearing it across his toned abs as his smirk deepens—amused and awed by how much you’ve made him cum.

supermodel! satoru who can’t focus during his photoshoot the next day, every click of the camera drowned out by thoughts of you. his mind lingers to the filthy fantasy of your body beneath his—your lips whispering his name, your legs wrapped around his waist.

the ache in his pants becomes unbearable, and he excuses himself, slipping away to the bathroom under the pretense of ‘fixing his hair.’

supermodel! satoru who locks the bathroom door behind him with trembling fingers, his breath hitching as he pulls up your photo again. his hands fumble with the buttons of his designer pants, desperate to release his aching erection.

supermodel! satoru who stares at your picture with half-lidded eyes, his thumb swiping over the swollen tip of his dick, spreading a slick bead of precum across the sensitive head. "fuck… you’ve got me so worked up," he whispers with a cocky smirk, and his free hand grips the edge of the sink, his cock twitching eagerly in his fist.

“pretty girl… god, I’d ruin you,” he shudders as he fucks his hand. with a sharp inhale, he reaches out to twist the handles of the porcelain sink. but honestly, the cascading water is a feeble attempt to drown his debauched sounds—sounds he knows he can’t hold back.

supermodel! satoru whose mind spirals into pure filth, his fantasies running wild as he pictures your body beneath his—writhing, trembling, utterly at his mercy. your hands would cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he holds your legs apart, spreading you wide as he fucks your tight little hole.

"bet you'd look so fucking good under me," he hisses through gritted teeth. “all spread out, legs shaking… pretty little mouth begging f’me.” his hand tightens around his cock as his hips jerk forward, “fuuuuck, you’d take me so well, wouldn’t ya? haaa—every fucking inch.”

supermodel! satoru who is teetering on the edge when a sharp knock cuts through the haze, echoing against the bathroom door.

“satoru? you’re needed back on set!” his manager calls, muffled but clear.

but his strokes turn frenzied, the interruption fueling the thrill—the sheer audacity of jerking off in the middle of a shoot. his moans mix with the rush of running water and the persistent pounding on the door.

“shit—fuck—fuck—” his voice cracks, his body seizes, and in that instant his cock erupts. he whimpers, milking his dick as his forehead falls forward against the mirror. as his thick hot seed spills on his hand, it streaks across the counter in messy, sticky arcs.

“satoru!” the knocking continues, louder this time, his manager’s voice growing sharper.

“i’m coming!” he yells back, and the irony of his words pulls a breathless laugh from his lips.

supermodel! satoru who stands there for a moment, panting, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. he’s a fucking hot mess—cheeks flushed, his hair a disarray, and his lips are swollen from biting down so damn hard, trying to keep quiet.

supermodel! satoru who tucks himself into his pants, buckling his belt with practiced ease as his smirk slides back into place. he splashes cold water on his face, tidies his hair, and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, he’s the typical picture of confidence—swaggering back to set with a cocky grin as though nothing happened.

but deep down, he knows he’s utterly, completely fucked.

why? because you’ve become his favorite addiction, his sweetest downfall. and it’s only a matter of time before he finally makes you his.

a full fic for this will be coming out! lmk if you wanna be tagged.

bestfriend!suguru who finds you sitting in the bathtub with your legs spread, hands that were frantically rubbing at your clit now frozen in place as you two blink at each other.

he was never supposed to even enter the bathroom — best friends have boundaries, after all — but hearing a strained scream of his name had him rushing to check if you were okay.

…only for him to realize a few moments later that it wasn’t a scream.

bestfriend!suguru who wordlessly pulls you out of the bathroom and tosses you onto the bed, ravaging you like a thirsty man that had been stranded in a desert.

your cunt was already sensitive from your previous actions, making you cry out and tangle his locks in between your fingers, but oh god — the way his tongue circled your clit before pushing inside your entrance, lapping up all of your wetness and tongue-fucking you without mercy — you weren’t sure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

at one point, his spit was almost entirely the reason why you were even wet. he was so persistent, making out with your pussy as if this was his last meal on earth. a clear, stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy when he inserts two fingers and curls them just right, hitting that spongy spot you couldn’t usually reach by yourself.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru pulls away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “look at that pretty pussy. so wet, all f’me,” a soft slap! has your body jolting, making you lift your head to look at him.

bestfriend!suguru who looked absolutely pussydrunk, eyes glazed over and still glued to the spot in between your legs as he fumbled with his belt. his cock was straining so hard against his pants you could’ve sworn they’d actually rip apart.

when he pushes his cock into your cunt, he has to bite down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to stop himself from just burying himself to the hilt and fucking you to the point of bruising your cervix. the warmth and wetness surrounding and squeezing around his shaft has him seeing stars, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

when he finally picks up the pace, he ruts into you like a dog in heat, fingers digging into your waist as he chases after his high. he moans at the sinful squelch of your pussy with every thrust— and if he could eat you out and break you with his cock at the same time, he would.

bestfriend!suguru who says, “if I’d known you had a pussy this fuckin’ good, I would’ve made you mine ages ago.”

Megumi head canons! //✰ jjk headcanons

bestfriend!Megumi who only lets you play with his hair. For example, he lets you put silly cute hair clips in his hair, and lets you do skin care on him!

bestfriend!Megumi who let you name his demon dogs, sugar and spice! He also lets you play fetch with them, play with them, and every once in a while let them sleep with you!

bestfriend!Megumi who has a big fat crush on you, ever since you two were kids. In middle school, he would beat up anyone who even tried bullying you.

bestfriend!Megumi who wrote you letters to you, but always hid them under his bed, until yuji found them. (he’s the only one who knows he has a crush on you) hehe

bestfriend!Megumi who ask gojo about dating advice and says “it’s just for a friend, back off.” When gojo teases him about it. (But it’s really how to be the best boyfriend to you!)

bestfriend!Megumi who told yuji to give a special letter to you, but not to tell you who it’s from, butttt, yuji butt has a big mouth so accidentally says “this is from fushiguro y/n!” And after he realizes what he said, he runs away far far away knowing what will happen when Megumi finds out.

bestfriend!Megumi who gets a text from you saying how special he makes you feel and feels the same way and how you would love to be his girlfriend! But you also don’t leave out how yuji told you. (Megumi used demon dogs to hunt yuji down)

boyfriend!Megumi who sleeps in your bed for the first time. He loves feeling you, hearing you, and just honestly loves being right next to you!

boyfriend!Megumi who thanks yuji for accidentally rating him out to you, even tho he really didn’t want to. (you told him too, hehe)

boyfriend!Megumi who never ever regrets giving yuji that letter to give to you. Now you too have a happy family of 2 kids. You tell your little 6 and 3 year olds your love story for bed time.

a/n; I love Megumi haha! @selfalivent, I hope you like it! 🫶🏼

you were in the park, petting some random dog.

its owner, a tall dude with white hair and sunglasses, said,

“wanna see her puppy?”

and like a fool, you said, “hell yeah, i wanna see puppy.”

you followed him.

to his car.

every true crime podcast screamed in your head,

but puppy logic overrode survival instinct.

fast forward five years.

that tall dude? gojo.

your husband.

the dog is still fat.

gojo’s still hot.

and every time he tells the story, he starts with:

“she risked it all for a puppy. now she’s stuck with me.”

omg but being a friend of kentos wife and being invited over for dinner just for poor kento to sit between the woman he’s married to and the sweet thing he’s been fucking in their shared bed :((

eating and chatting with his wife about the small and mundane whilst palming kento through his slacks… the look of warning he gives you as you make him all hard and uncomfy in his tight pants. he can’t possibly stand and let his wife see the patch of precum that is already drooling through the fabric!

and of course you insist on washing up, you are the guest after all! so while kentos sweet wife goes to grab a bottle of wine and set up the living room to sit in, you’re busy washing dishes in the kitchen. and kento is just such the gentleman that he insists on helping you by fucking you against the sink while you clean :)

he whispers awful things in your ear about how dangerous you are, nearly making him cum in his pants with his wife a few inches away. but she’s a little drunk now and the wine makes her oblivious enough that when you yell out as he hits your g spot over and over again she just assumes you’ve spilt some water!

kento fills you up nice and good, kisses your earlobes and neck and tells you he won’t be so kind next time. but that’s okay—you like it when he’s mean :)

he pulls out of you and with one last kiss to your pretty lips, leaves the kitchen. he goes and presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead and tells her he has a headache and is going to go and lay down, which she doesn’t think much of except that he can’t look her in the eye when he says it :p

it’s alright, because now you have some alone time with his wife to drink and gossip—and you can sit on her sofa whilst her husbands cum leaks into your panties and listen to her hushed giggles as she says kento just doesn’t fuck her like he used to!

“When in doubt, rub one out.”

-idk, some dude probably

Every time someone writes her as a mean dom a lesbian angel loses their wings

༻behind the screen༺

♡ pairing. gojo x fem! reader (au you're coworkers)

♡ summary. when a late-night swipe on an anonymous dating app leads to a sultry phone call, you think it’s the perfect way to escape your work stress—especially your infuriatingly smug coworker Gojo Satoru. but when the man on the other end starts sounding eerily familiar, secrets slip out.

♡ contents. 18+ MDNI, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, praise kink, dirty talk, satoru is pining over you.

♡ wc. 3k

♡ a/n this was a request! it became longer than i anticipated hehe. but i had fun writing it nonetheless 💕

Gojo Satoru was used to being in control. Whether it was at work, in social settings, or just walking into a room, he was the guy who turned heads, the one who made people laugh, the one everyone gravitated toward.

Confidence was his currency, and he spent it lavishly. But around you? His brain seemed to malfunction entirely.

It was infuriating, really. He could charm anyone with a single smile, yet you—you—barely spared him a glance. And when you did, it was usually accompanied by a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

But you didn’t hate Gojo Satoru—hate was too strong a word for someone as maddeningly smug as him.

What you felt for him was more akin to the annoyance of stepping in gum on a hot summer day or spilling coffee on your favorite blouse. He was a constant presence in your life, always hovering with his stupidly perfect grin and those ridiculous quips that made your eye twitch.

And yet, to him, you were an enigma. You didn’t fall for his charm, his playful teasing, or his self-proclaimed ‘devastatingly good looks,’ and that made you a puzzle he was desperate to solve.

At first, he chalked it up to frustration. No one had ever resisted him the way you did, and it had to be a fluke. Then, the realization hit him like a freight train: he didn’t just want your attention—he wanted you.

It was a big, messy crush, and he had no idea what to do about it. Gojo Satoru didn’t pine, for god’s sake. So, he acted indifferent.

Unfortunately, his strategy was… suboptimal.

Relentless teasing. Sarcastic remarks. Even the occasional ‘accidental’ brush of his hand against yours. None of it worked. Instead of pulling you closer, it only seemed to cement your belief that he was a certified pain in the ass.

Case in point: last Friday in the break room.

“Still no boyfriend, huh?” he’d asked with a smirk, leaning casually against the door frame as if he hadn’t been plotting that line all day. “Guess guys just don’t appreciate all that… sarcasm. Or is it the constant glaring?”

The flash of irritation in your eyes was immediate and searing. He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, but instead of apologizing, he doubled down with a cocky grin. That was his defense mechanism—smugness as a shield.

You didn’t even bother to dignify him with a response. You stormed off, brushing his shoulder while your heels clicked against the floor as he stood there, internally kicking himself.

Now, as you lay in bed on a random Tuesday night, those words played on repeat in your head. It wasn’t because they hurt—of course not. But they lingered, burrowing into your thoughts like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Was that cocky ass, right? No… you could get a boyfriend… if you wanted to.

The thought made you scowl, your finger aimlessly scrolling through your phone as the glow of the screen illuminated your face.

“God, who cares what he thinks…” you groan, tossing your phone aside. But the moment you did, it buzzed, and the glow of an ad caught your attention.

A dating app. Anonymous. Discreet. Perfect for someone who wanted validation… without the strings.

“Why not?” you mutter, tapping the download button.

You didn’t expect much. Maybe a few shallow conversations, something to pass the time and make you feel less… undesirable.

Fuck it.

༻♡༺

Gojo Satoru slouched on his couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest while his other hand flicked mindlessly through his phone.

The TV was on, some senseless drama he couldn’t care less about playing in the background. It was just noise, really—something to drown out the thoughts he didn’t want to entertain. Thoughts of you.

“You’re sulking,” Suguru’s voice cut through the haze, casual and smug as always. Satoru barely looked up as his best friend wandered in from the kitchen, a beer in hand.

“I don’t sulk,” his thumb swipes with more force than necessary, and the pout tugging at his lips, said otherwise.

Suguru snorted, plopping down beside him and cracking his beer open.

“Sure,” he said, leisurely taking a sip. “So, what’s your deal this time? Another tragic failure to get her attention?”

Satoru’s eyes flick up to glare at his friend, but the effect was less menacing and more petulant. He looks back at his phone, refusing to dignify that with a response. Still, his pout said everything Suguru needed to know.

“It wasn’t a failed attempt…” he grumbles after a moment. “She reacts… just… the wrong way…”

Suguru’s brow arches is amusement as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Lemme guess… she glared at you. Again.”

Satoru was silent, staring at his phone like it might provide him with a more dignified answer, but eventually, the admission slipped out, quiet and begrudging.

“Her glare is cute…”

Suguru doesn’t miss the soft pink dusting Satoru’s cheeks, and his eyes roll so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall out of his head. He sets his beer down with a sigh, leaning back to rest an arm along the back of the couch.

“You’ve got it bad, man. Just confess already.”

“I can’t,” Satoru’s sigh is so dramatic it could’ve won him an award. He drops his phone onto his chest, staring up at the ceiling like it holds the secrets of the universe. “She totally hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Suguru counters. “She just thinks you’re an idiot, which—let’s be real—you kinda are.”

“Wow. Thanks,” Satoru said flatly. “Your support is truly heartwarming.”

Suguru shrugs, unbothered as always. He grabs his beer and takes another sip, eyeing Satoru like he’s both a lost cause and an endless source of entertainment.

“Y’know what your problem is?”

“Oh, please. Enlighten me,” Satoru stretches his legs out on the coffee table.

Suguru sets his can back down with a decisive clink.

“You overthink things with this girl. Maybe you need a distraction. You oughta download one of those dating apps everyone’s obsessed with. Blow off some steam.”

“A dating app?” Satoru’s nose scrunches in disgust, like Suguru had suggested he take up competitive bird watching or something.

Suguru, unperturbed, reaches over and snatches the phone off Satoru’s chest with zero hesitation. “Yep,” his fingers fly over the screen. “You’re clearly incapable of doing this on your own, so I’m doing it for you.”

“Wait, what—”

“There.” Suguru shoves the phone back into Satoru’s hands, grinning like a man who’d just solved world hunger. “All set.”

༻♡༺

That was how Satoru found himself lying in bed, staring at the app now loaded onto his phone—the bright interface practically mocking him.

A dating app? Seriously?

He was Gojo fucking Satoru. He didn’t need help in that department—if anything, people practically threw themselves at him.

And yet, here he was, thumb hovering over the ‘Get Started’ button like it was some kind of nuclear launch code.

“This is so dumb…” he mutters to himself, running a hand through his snow-white hair. But the alternative—sitting here alone and thinking about you—was worse. Much worse.

With a resigned sigh, he taps the button. The setup was painless enough, and he will admit that the app’s anonymity piqued his interest. No names, no faces, no preconceived notions—just bios and conversation. A refreshing change from his usual routine.

But once he started swiping, reality set in.

The profiles were… bland. Painfully so. If he had to read one more line about someone who ‘loves hiking and tacos,’ he was going to throw his phone across the room. Plus, the conversations he’d had were dull at best and unbearable at worst. Small talk wasn’t his thing, and most people just couldn’t seem to keep up with his wit.

Satoru was about five minutes away from deleting the app when your profile popped up. It was short, clever, and witty—his kind of humor. Intrigued, he swiped right and shot you a message.

Hours slipped away like water through his fingers. The conversation flowed so easily it was almost surreal. You didn’t tiptoe around him or try to impress him—you met his sarcasm with your own, and every jab you threw only made him want to know more.

The two of you talked about everything—movies, terrible music recommendations, the absurdity of office politics. The way you called out corporate nonsense had him laughing so hard he had to put the phone down to catch his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him laugh like that.

God—you were funny, sharp, and quick on your feet in a way that reminded him of—

Nah…

It wasn’t you. It couldn’t be. The universe wasn’t that cruel—or that kind.

He groans, tossing his phone onto the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. His mind was betraying him again, spiraling back to you like it always does.

‘You need a distraction. Blow off some steam.’

Maybe Suguru was right. Maybe he needed a distraction. Something—anything—to get you out of his head.

As his phone buzzes with a new message, his gaze drifts back to the screen.

still there, or did I scare you off?

A slow grin spreads across his face. Whatever. Whoever you were, you had his attention. For tonight, that was enough.

Still here. Hey, can I be honest for a sec?

mmm… depends. how honest?

He smirked, typing quickly.

Well, tbh I’ve been having a tough time. Got it bad for this coworker. Total knockout, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m an idiot.

He hits send before he can talk himself out of it, watching the little ‘delivered’ icon appear. Your reply comes after a brief pause.

yikes… sounds complicated.

He chuckles, already typing again.

You have no idea... anyway, I figured I could use a distraction. And if I’m gonna distract myself, I’d rather do it with someone who can actually keep my interest.

There was a beat of hesitation, and then he boldly added:

Wanna have phone sex?

This time, the pause stretched longer. Long enough for him to wonder if he’d blown it. But then, his phone buzzes again.

fuck it... why not?

Grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, he hit the call button through the app. The line rang once, twice, before clicking.

“Hi…” your voice greeted him softly.

“Hey princess,” he drawled. “Thought I might’ve scared you off.”

“Oh… no,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “But I will admit, you’re straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Always.” He leans back further, his free hand trailing lazily over his stomach. “Why waste time, right? Life’s too short for tiptoeing around.”

Ironic, considering how he seemed to do nothing but tiptoe around you—his coworker—at work. You—who always had him second-guessing himself in ways no one else ever could.

However, this wasn’t about you. This was a stranger—right? A voice on the other end of the line. That was all.

But as you laugh through the phone, he closes his eyes, letting the sound settle over him. It was nice… and familiar. Too familiar.

No.

He was imagining things. Again. His brain was playing tricks on him, twisting your voice into something it wasn’t. There was no way it was you.

“So,” he said, steering the conversation back on track. “You’ve done this before?”

“Not really,” you admit, voice dipping slightly. “Actually… no. Honestly, I haven’t. This is my first time.”

His grin widens—the cocky edge returning to his tone.

“First time, huh? Well, you’re in luck. I’m an excellent teacher.”

You let out another soft laugh, nervous but sweet, and it sends a jolt of heat straight through him. What the hell is wrong with him tonight? Your voice—soft, familiar—it feels like a melody he’s heard before.

“Is that so?” you ask, breaking his train of thought.

“Hmm? Oh… absolutely,” he said, shaking his head with a smirk. His fingers drummed against his thigh as he forced himself to focus. “Just relax, princess. Let me guide you.”

“…okay,” you whisper.

He exhales slowly, letting the tension drain from his shoulders as he shifts lower on the bed.

“Now… are you laying in your bed for me?”

“mhmm…” you hum softly.

“Mm, good girl,” he murmurs. “Alright, tell me—what are you wearing?”

“Just… an oversized shirt,” the hesitation in your voice makes him grin. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah?” his hand trails down to the waistband of his sweatpants as he closes his eyes. “That’s perfect. Makes it easy to imagine my hands slipping underneath, right up to that pretty pussy of yours...”

Your sharp inhale crackles through the receiver, and the sound sends a thrill straight to his cock.

“Do something for me,” he begins palming his growing bulge. “Run your hands down your thighs… nice and slow. Tease yourself the way I would.”

There was a beat of silence, and he held his breath, waiting. Then, he heard it—a faint shift in your breathing, followed by a soft, shaky exhale. It was subtle, but it was enough to tell him you were doing exactly as he asked.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his own hand slipping beneath his waistband to wrap around his cock. It twitched eagerly in his palm, already hard and aching as he imagines you following his instructions.

“…you touching yourself, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah.”

The word trembles on your lips like a secret only he’s allowed to hear, and his grip tightens on his cock as he begins to stroke himself slowly—matching the rhythm he imagines your hand moving in.

“Good girl,” he purrs, the sheets rustling beneath him as his hand glides across his length. “Now slide your fingers inside that tight little cunt… nice and slow.”

Your soft moan spills through the line, and his hips buck involuntarily at the sound—his hand moving faster.

“Fuck… love hearing those pretty little sounds” he groans as his thumb swipes over his tip, slick with pre-cum. “How many fingers are you using?”

“Two,” you gasp as the word breaks into a moan.

“Add another,” he commands, almost a growl.

You hesitate for just a moment, but then your breathy whimper crackles through the line, and he hisses through clenched teeth, his dick twitching eagerly at the sound. But somehow, without meaning to, his imagination betrays him.

He pictures you—his coworker. Fuck, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

You—head tipped back; lips parted as your fingers work you open—his cock throbbed eagerly at the mental image.

Fuck… this was supposed to be a distraction, not fuel for his already out-of-control infatuation. He groaned, annoyed at himself but powerless to stop, and his strokes grew faster, more desperate as he surrendered to the fantasy.

“Haa… that’s my girl,” he praises, eyes fluttering shut as his hips buck into his hand desperately. “Stretch yourself for me. Make yourself nice and ready for my cock… nngh… wanna fucking fill you up, princess. Make you take every inch.”

Your soft, choked moan crackles through the phone, and it unravels him further. His strokes grow faster, more erratic—his free hand gripping the sheets as he chases his release.

“Bet you’d look so pretty,” his hand becomes a frantic blur as he loses himself to his fantasy. “All spread out and dripping for me. Taking my cock like a good girl… haaa… gonna fucking stuff you full as you cum all over m’ dick.”

“Fuck… m’ cumming,” you gasp, and as your broken cry crackles through the receiver, it sends him careening over the edge.

“Fuck… yes, good fucking girl… haaa—m’ cumming too.”

He pumps his cock, hips jerking as thick, hot streams of cum spill over his hand and onto the sheets below. His breath hitches in his throat, and before he can stop himself, your name rips from his lips, raw and guttural, a desperate cry he couldn’t contain.

Through the phone, your own gasping breaths mingle with his—the faint sound of your release trembling through the line. Then, for a brief moment, the world was quiet, save for the shared rhythm of your breathing as the two of you come down from the high.

Until, reality set in.

Fuck.

He blinked up at the ceiling, his free hand raking through his hair as his brain scrambled to process what just happened.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He felt like a goddamn asshole. He’d just moaned someone else’s name—your name—while he was supposed to be with someone else.

What the hell was wrong with him?

But then, you laughed—a soft, breathless sound that broke through his spiraling thoughts.

“That was… fun,” you said warmly, slightly teasing. “But, um… how do you know my name?”

His stomach dropped.

“I… what?” his voice cracked slightly as panic clawed its way up his throat.

“You said my name,” you reply, a curious lilt to your tone now. “I don’t remember telling you my name. And, you know, the app is supposed to be anonymous…”

It hit him all at once.

The voice that had been haunting him, the one that felt so painfully familiar, the one he’d convinced himself couldn’t possibly be yours—it was yours.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as realization washed over him.

“Wait…” your tone shifts from amused to sharp. “You sound familiar. Like… Gojo?”

His stomach flips, dread pooling in his chest like ice water.

“Uh…” He froze, his mind scrambling for something, anything, that could salvage this disaster. “…hi, princess?” His tone was a weak attempt at his usual cocky charm—it fell flat. “Didn’t expect to find you on this app…”

There was a beat of silence, and then, like the idiot he was, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“Sooo… still no boyfriend then, huh?”

me when a character who was completely powerless gains power and proceeds to lose themselves in the intoxication of it before coming to and being horrified by their own capacity for bloodlust

Them again. What can I say? They're so memeable it hurts 😂

Loser!Gojo with a long distance girlfriend he finally gets to meet and goes mad.

Loser!Satoru really can’t believe he’s managed to even get a girlfriend let alone an online relationship, he met you on an old game barely anyone plays and instantly clicked with you, you shared the same nerdy interests with things like monsters and magic.

His days with you are spent calling and texting for hours on end, he’ll spend his entire day just sitting on the phone talking about absolutely nothing with you! He loves it so much! It’s to the point where he’ll oversleep from being up all night and miss a lecture, you always scold him for not setting alarms.

Things start innocent and cute at first then you both get needy, the phone calls get nastier and nastier, with you sending him some of the raunchier photos of yourself, he fucking loves it. He’s a loaded dude so sending you some money to buy the next “it” lingerie is absolutely worth it in his opinion.

He’ll almost always in return send you videos of him pathetically jerking off his cock and whining so girlishly into the phone about what you do to him and what he’s going to do to you when he gets his hands on you.

The phone sex is downright sinful: it just exists of nasty squelching noises; you making sure Satoru can hear how wet he makes you and vise versa with him.

It gets to the point where he literally flies out to see you, he needs you in his embrace immediately and so damn badly, he’s straining in his pants thinking about your cute self.

When you see him, you figure out how really awkward he is, you have to carry the conversations but you don’t mind at all! It’s so cute seeing him stutter in your presence trying to formulate a sentence.

That night you two really can’t wait, fucking each other the same day you finally see one another is needed.

Satoru fucks you like he doesn’t even know you, his cock filts inside you so fucking nicely, he’s not big but he makes up for it with his speed and the way he’s perfectly hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You’re practically dripping and gripping his cock no not practically: you are.

As much as he tries to put on a big front while destroying you, you know he’s just a sensitive thing that’s holding his orgasm for you, it’s not long before he’s cumming into the condom with a drawn out groan before you. He gets hard again pretty quickly and after a quick pause he pushes inside your cunt again, wanting to do it all over again.

He also tries his hardest to not drool all over your neck, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself!

satoru tries to be nonchalant and mysterious when u fuck by staying silent and fucking you like the guys in porn do: no moans, no flavour, nothing. but he lasts about two strokes before literally gasping out the most pornographic moan and refusing to shut up from that point onwards.

hes so talkative, moaning and rambling on about how good and tight you feel wrapped around his cock that he starts to sound stupidly cumdrunk. the only time he's not talking is when he's got his tongue in ur mouth and even then he's still moaning like he's in heat.

toru is so loud too, like you get noise complaints regularly. he never shut up, and when he cums the whole city ends up knowing about it because he's on the verge of tears and begging for you to milk him dry and there's no such thing as too loud when it's you he's fucking. he encourages you to let him hear you, wants the neighbours to know just how good he lays it down for you... he's so annoying i love him

It was an average Monday morning when you, Nanami Kento's wife, were turned into a cat.

"An unusual Curse," Shoko had said, "not longer than a week, surely--"

"Not--not longer than a week?!" Kento spluttered, his glasses lopsided, and, dangled in front of him beneath the arms (legs-- legs, he reminded himself)...you.

You, with two pointed ears, a long whippy tail, your many toe-beans and a perturbed little head-tilt. On the doctors' office couch, a neatly folded (if a little furry) pile of your clothes.

"Meow," you had said.

"Don't 'meow' me," Kento spluttered again, fixing you with a stern look that barely overlaid his concern. You simply stared up at him, long, and feline, and unblinking...and reached out one little paw, pressing it onto the end of his nose.

Kento sighed; a bone-deep, weary sigh. Shoko put out her cigarette, speaking through a haze of smoke.

"Like I said. Give it a week, and Mrs.Nyanyami will be back to nor--"

"What did you just call her?'

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Mrs.Nyanyami, the cat formerly known as Nanami Kento's wife, wanted for nothing.

"I think that tuna's more expensive than anything I've ever eaten," whispered Yuuji to Gojo. On the other side of the conference room, you sat upon the desk before Kento, waiting patiently for the next lump of tuna (meticulously cut into cat-appropriate cubes) to be delivered in his chopsticks.

As Kento's hand approached, you held it close with paw and claws, to steal the pink fish from him. He looked like a surgeon performing heart surgery.

"I just...dont know how he can look so serious while he's doing that," Gojo whispered back, to Yuuji's frantic nods. Still, they watched this freakish nature documentary with quiet obsession.

A higher-up sat down beside Kento, waiting for the meeting to begin. Jolting back, and grumbling, he did a double take.

"Young man-- you can't bring a cat to a Sorcerer's meeting--"

"That's not a cat," Kento snapped, frosty, "that's my wife."

And so began the rumour amongst the higher-ups, that Nanami Kento had gone mad.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You should leave her at home--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--really, Nanami...just put the television on, she'll be fine--"

"--unequivocally, no--"

"--why not?!"

Silence. An awkward shuffle on Kento's thick chest. You peeked your head out of the pocket of the cat-carrying hoodie that Kento wore over his shirt and tie, and turned to Gojo with narrowed eyes.

"Meow," you had said, batting at Kento's strings, and hooking his tie out with your paw, to kick it to death with your legs.

"I agree," said Kento, whispering and scratching you beneath the chin until you purred, "he's wrong, isn't he? Stupid Gojo. You'd get lonely. You'd get bored. Yes you would..."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Oh my god...he's gorgeous...you should get his number--"

"--I'm not brave enough...you go. I'll get our coffees."

"--okay, okay..." The woman cleared her throat, sweeping her hair behind one ear with her best smile. Kento looked up from his coffee, with one finely raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He lied, unwilling to help anyone at all before he'd finished his croissant.

"Hi, yeah, I just...can't help but notice you're sitting alone, and my friend-- well she-- she just wondered if she can have your number, and--"

The woman broke off into shrieks. Climbing up her leg, all claws and furry vengeance, was you. She shook her leg, shrieking. You hissed. Your cup of steamed milk clattered over the table, slopping everywhere.

"--o-oh my god-- oh my god, what the hell is this cat doi--"

"I'm sorry," Kento sighed, not sorry at all and dabbing his mouth with a napkin and doing absolutely nothing to help, "it's my cat. She doesn't like company--"

Hisses. Claws. Dirty feral yowls.

"Get this fucking thing off me--"

"I can't take you anywhere. No more steamed milk for you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

At times, you seemed so human. At others, undeniably cat.

Kento would wake to clattering from the kitchen, bleary and feeling around for you, only to remember, and trace his hand up to the furry, round little patch you'd leave behind on your pillow. He allowed himself just a moment of misery, before getting up.

He followed the sounds of cups and kettle and coffee machine, and leaned against the doorway with sleep-mussed hair and a squinting, teenagerish glare.

You were up on the counter, all four paws and determination. You had gotten as far as switching the kettle and coffee machine on, and heaving the cupboard open with your tiny limbs. Kento watched as you tipped your head sideways, managing to drag two mugs out in your teeth. He winced as they almost smashed upon the counter.

"Come on," Kento rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, "let me do that."

You meowed at him, batting at the air with one angry paw when he stepped closer. Kento huffed, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine," he tutted, "but I'll pour the water."

"Meow."

"Why? Because you don't have opposable thumbs, darling."

The fur stood up along your spine. You turned around, and around, in a circle, then sat upright. You turned your back on him while you waited for the kettle to boil. Your tail flicked from side to side, irritable. Kento waited, too, reaching out one hand to stroke your ears.

You nudged your back paw out, and pushed his mug off the side to smash on the floor.

Silence.

"...what is wrong with y--"

"Meow."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Skitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

Kento groaned, rubbing down his face. He checked the clock, frog-blinking; two in the morning. He groaned harder.

Skitterskitterskitter.

Thunk.

More distant meows.

"Please just come back to bed," Kento moaned into the hands pressed over his face.

SkitterskitterskitterSKITTERSKITTER-- rustlllleerussstle--

Directly over his face.

"Meow--"

"I am begging you--"

RustlerustleTHNKskitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I miss you."

You raised your head to look at him. Your purring hitched. Your ears tilted.

Kento had murmured, his low voice barely audible. The only light in the living room was the ever-changing light of the television screen. Laid on his back on the sofa, with you curled on his chest, Kento stroked down your back with longing.

You crept up his chest, pressing your cold wet nose to his, and purred. Nose to nose, and cross-eyed, Kento could have cried.

"I really miss you," he repeated, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Your claws dug into his chest, just a little. You rub, rub, rubbed your warm furry head along his jaw until he sniffled, and gave a choked little chuckle.

He fell asleep with you on his chest that night. In so many ways, it was familiar; home. In so many others, you were gone forever.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Meow."

Kento shuffled. His chest felt heavy...warm. His belly felt warm, too. And his lap, and--

Kento's eyes shot open, his head lifting up from the couch.

You bit your lip, naked on top of him, and smiling. Human. An angel.

"Oh, my love," Kento moaned, crushing you to him in a bear hug from shoulder to toes, "you're back-- I missed you, I was so worrie--"

You batted an arm out, swiping last night's wine glass from the coffee table beside you, to shatter on the floor.

Silence. Kento blinked slowly, looking from the wine glass, to you. You felt your cheeks grow hot, swallowing hard.

"God, I...sorry, Kento. Force-- force of habit--"

tfw ur wife turns into a cat 🐈 (based on this cute fic by @pseudowho )

Sorry Mr. King of Hell, Alastor hails from the land of stubborn, violent psychopaths 😔

(what it do my fellow americans)

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐒

With: Satoru Gojo, Sukuna Ryomen, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, and Choso Kamo

CW: slight fem! coded reader, chasity cages, masochism/small amount of impact play, subspace, frottage, pegging/bottom m! characters, bottom! reader, bondage, non sexual submission, dedgration, use of names "whore, slut, dog, pathetic", choking, breeding, punishments, face slapping, gags, drool, marking

WC: 2.2k

A/N: I have been wanting to make this for soooooo long. Just for me to kinda info dump on you guys how I see them. I will def do a part two with aged up! characters, but I know a lot of ppl arent into that, so I decided to split them up <3

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

— Satoru Gojo is the whinest, neediest person on this list. He constantly wants your attention and gets easily peeved when you look away from him, even for a second. Also has the highest sex drive, so he is constantly scouting for places to have quickies — he can't help but want to take a break from the real world.

— He is pretty vocal, starting off with grunts and breathless pants until he gets closer to cumming, and his breaths turn into high-pitched whimpers. He also has a thing for begging and being obnoxiously loud sometimes, but it's all for show, and he only does it so that you give him more attention.

— Punishments usually are chastity. Going two weeks without sex makes him lose his mind, and by day six, he is pawing at you or grinding his clothed cock against you. It's cute, but it usually doesn't last long, considering the two of you will occasionally be in public when he gets especially needy. He's not ashamed to subtly rub himself against you.

— I think this is a debated subject a little bit, but I actually think the Satoru has a preference for to bottom! It doesn't always have to involve pegging. Sometimes, he just likes heated makeout sessions while you simultaneously thrust a toy in and out of him. It makes everything more sensitive for him, and he always lets the cutest little mewls into your mouth.

— I do think he has a thing for pain. Not a super big one, but his eyes may roll back if you leave scratch marks down his back, and he may one time or another ask you to step on his cock. He likes how airheaded it makes him feel — his whole body seems to be on fire from the pain, and it's all that he can think about. It's when he is in pain that he actually lets out moans rather than whimpers from when he is in pleasure.

— Gojo is definitely willing to try a multitude of things and has actually done a lot of research on different things. So, the two of you have done a variety of kinky roleplays and bought too many toys.

— He also has a massive thing for intimacy, likes to be touched constantly, or his hands need to be on you in some way or another. Even if you are mean to him (as he asks), he likes it when you somehow find a way to incorporate something that shows you love him.

Likes: kissing, impact play, roleplay, slight exhibition, anal play, mirror sex, light degredation, objectification.

Dislikes: chastity cages, orgasm denial, edging, when you tell him that you are too busy.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

— Sukuna is by far the least submissive man on this list. He makes you work hard for his submission. It is something that needs to be worked for, something to strive for. So, it may take hours for him to finally unravel and bare his neck to you. And even when he does, he may still bark insults because he likes seeing you mad.

— He is vocal in that he never seems to stop talking. He constantly wants to egg you on to see how far he can push you. But as long as you remain level-headed, you will have the upper hand. The second your temper gets the better of you, Sukuna will be back to basically bullying you.

— When you do slowly and carefully ease him into submission, using specific words that will not hurt his pride, he is overall pretty good. He is very needy in the aspects of his pleasure and a bit of a pillow prince, but not horrible. 

— Moans and grunts are only released after you work hard for them. But they are cute nonetheless, low and pitch, but occasionally if you pinch his nipples or lightly slap his cock, a broken whine falls from his lips. But dont comment on the cute sounds, or he will bite his lip for the rest of the session just to spite you.

— The thought of "punishments" makes Sukuna laugh, so he doesn't technically get punished very often. Although, an easy way for him to fall into the subspace is through an intense amount of sickly sweet praise. He hates that being called a "good" or a "sweet" boy makes his head turn to mush.

— Like said before, he is pretty selfish in bed (lol). He wants the attention to be on him 24/7. He wants to be touched as much as possible and to have as much orgasms as he can. So, if you ask him to return the favor, he may grumble just a little bit before getting to his task. But you dont mind it too much, since his pouting is quite cute.

— Bondage is a surprising turn-on for Sukuna. You tied his arms and legs up one time and even put a blindfold on him, and instant lucky he was so turned that pre began to leak from his cock. It only happens on rare occasions, considering it is a little overwhelming for him, but the noises he lets out are beautiful.

Likes: bondage, praise (never admits it), overstimulation, nipple play, when you refer to him as "Lord Sukuna", making you do all the work.

Dislikes: degredation, giving head, exhibition, when you try to bring your sex roles into your day to day life, edging.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

— Nanami is a living, breathing service sub, and I will never change my mind about this. I think he incorporates it into your day-to-day life as well, whether it be preparing you a bath, cooking you food, or anything that will get him the "You are so sweet, Kento, I love you." that makes his cheeks twinge red.

— That being said, when you are the one pleasuring him, he gets all stiff and nervous. His body flushes a dark shade of red, and he squeezes his eyes shut while trying to hold back his small whimpers. It takes him a couple of minutes to relax because he enjoys the affection, but all the attention on him makes him slightly nervous.

— But the second he is kneeling in front of you with his head in between your thighs, he is as confident as ever. Although he keeps a straight face, whenever he hears your moans from his work, he swears if he had a tail, it would be wagging profusely. Nothing gets him more excited than hearing that he is pleasing you.

— Non-sexual submission is also something he practices at home with your approval. As said before, he will take on chores just to please you and often will kneel in front of you just so you can praise him. It makes all the stresses of his day-to-day life melt away when you treat him so kindly, and he will oftentimes fall asleep to you murmuring how good he is for you.

— Kento doesn't get punishments often because he never really deserves punishments. But, sometimes he will overwork himself, and when he comes home exhausted, you are the one to pamper him instead, which he finds incredibly embarrassing. Washing his hair for him in the bath and massaging his tight muscles always leaves him so confused because, on one hand, he loves it, but he also is asking to return the favor almost every second because it just feels unnatural to him.

— When he doesn't feel like having sex but is still feeling submissive, he will just kneel in front of you while you sit on the couch. It makes him feel comforted and safe, especially when you pet his hair. He usually doesn't talk much when he is in the subspace, so you have to guess his needs, considering he will always just follow what you say without a doubt in mind.

— He is also very intimate and wants everything to be done out of love. Soft touches are essential to him, and even just vanilla sex, most of the time, really does it for him. He just wants to show how much he loves and appreciates you all the time :(

Likes: praise, giving head, soft touches, gentle handjobs, kneeling, nonsexual submission, light objectification.

Dislikes: when the attention is on him completely, impact play, degradation, blindfolds, punishments

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

— In the bluntest way possible and exactly how almost everyone sees him, Toji is a massive brat. He is a kinda do what he wants type of man but then expects you to accommodate for his bratty behavior. Also would be really into being your sugar baby if you do have money.

— He is a top through and through, but he prefers you to ride him. Likes it when you choke him, too, makes him feel lightheaded and woozy while he gazes up at you with near hearts in his eyes.

— You find out pretty early on that he is into face-slapping. It was just in the spur of the moment when you struck him across the face when he tried to taunt you, and suddenly that man went eerily silent while he traced his burning cheek with wide eyes. You didn't ask before you did it again, and the second time, he had cum from the sensation.

— Likes his partners a little mean and harsh. It keeps it entertaining, and following a strict set of guidelines is incredibly difficult for him, so he often gets punished for it. But still, when the punishments get so bad that even he finds them unpleasurable, he will follow your rules (that sometimes lead into his daily life) without too much of a fuss.

— He doesn't make much noise, apart from his hisses of pain from punishments. His breaths do get quicker when he is close to orgasming, and a cracked whine may be let out when you overstimulate him. Other than that, he is relatively quiet, and instead, he shows that he is in pleasure by his eyes rolling back and his legs occasionally twitching. It's cute.

— Back to the mean partner thing, he does love degrading. When you say things so mean, he gulps and has to look away from the harshness of your stare. Toji likes to be called a variety of nicknames like whore, slut, dog, skum, and pathetic. And whenever he hears them, he just lets out a low laugh and shakes his head, but blood rushes straight to his groin.

— He doesn't want it to be super intimate unless he is in a deep, committed relationship with you. So, in the beginning, he may not want to kiss you that often or want to be held, but if/when he falls for you, you better give this man the best aftercare EVER!!!! He will engulf you in a hug and not let you go, whether you like it or not.

Likes: dedgredation, choking, riding him, spitting in his mouth, minimum bondage,.....breeding

Dislikes: anal play, sickly sweet praise, anything too romantic if you guys are in a new relationship

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

— The universal token sub of the JJK fandom !!!! He is adorable and super well-behaved but a little bit needy. He wants to be loved and praised, pampered even. It's cute, though, and you dont mind spoiling him because he is well-behaved.

— He is very puppy-coded, but not in the way of how energetic he is, more so in the way he is constantly looking for your approval. Constantly asking if he is doing alright and if you feel good. But he also gets so shy and nervous no matter how many times you have done it. He just likes you so much he can't help but be embarrassed when his heart seems pounding out of his chest!

— Likes to be kissed a lot, everywhere if possible. Marking is a huge thing for him, and he will hundred percent whimper whenever you leave a hickey on him. But he can never wait to go to the bathroom afterward so that he can see all the places you marked him, wearing the biggest blush on his face but completely content. It shows that you love him, and the reassurance sends his head spinning.

— Choso also likes oral, both receiving and giving. Although he does have a preference of receiving just because whenever he sees you in between his legs, he thinks it is the hottest thing ever. And your mouth always does such wonderful things, so he can't help but grab onto your hair and moan out. But he is always excited to return to the favor and is very passionate about his "work."

— The curse is unbelievably loud. To the point where you were shocked when you first heard him and thought he was faking it. Because he isn't very talkative in everyday life so hearing his loud gasp and shaky whimpers every time you touch him is such a treat. Although he may wake the neighbors with how loud he moans when he cums…

— Which brings us to the use of gags! He both hates and loves them, but you find him the prettiest with drool rolling down his chin. The dark-haired man always tries to talk with one in his mouth, but it always comes out gargled and makes him cry from humiliation. But as long as you kiss him and reassure him that he looks very cute with it on, he won't whine too much.

— The mere idea of a punishment nearly sends him into a panic attack. The idea of you being upset with him for something makes him want to splutter out a handful of apologies until you forgive him. You can't even try to degrade him because it truly will make him cry and plead for you to let him get back in his good graces. So he always is on his best behavior, which is never hard for him.

Likes: Praise, hickies, gags, slight humiliation, "good boy", oral, blindfolds, and hanjobs while kissing

Dislikes: Punishments, degradation, impact play, overstimulation, neglect play

i promised you 🦋

(crossposting from x, bsky, & ig)

“god, he’s just so…ugh fuck…you know?” you curse through gritted teeth, hands held before you in a choking motion.

jayce stares at you from across the room, brows furrowed in confused concern. “I-“

“it’s like he does it on purpose. he knows what he’s doing when he walks in all good morning lásko, how did you sleep?” you voice drops a few octaves as you imitate your lab partner. “it’s infuriating, i just want to grab him and shake him but i’m scared he’s gonna break.”

“hey, maybe-“ jayce unsuccessfully tries to pipe up again.

“and i get it, it’s not appropriate but it’s either gonna end with me kissing or choking him out next time because i can’t do it anymore.” your rant ends with a huff as you drop your head to the table on defeat.

“you can kiss or choke me, either way i don’t mind but please, do not be gentle” the accustomed accent floats through the room and you feel the weight of the universe crash down upon you at the realisation viktor had heard everything. “i will not break but i’m touched to know you are concerned.”

you feel a hand brush against your shoulder as he passes, the familiar patter of his footsteps and cane simultaneously calming and quickening your pulse. the heat of his body warms your bare arm as he leans over, lips now at the shell of your ear. “good morning lásko, how did you sleep?”

the yearning is off the charts and just slightly dangerous to the space time fabric

shigaraki didn't know shit about sex before he met you.

all he even "learned", if you could even call it that, were through doujinshis and hentais that he watched, or those really extreme porn videos. poor boy, was so isolated from the human contact experience and is so deprived of touch that he puts all his frustration in a porn addiction.

so then, enter you in the picture, and shigaraki is so clueless. he's saying how he doesn't need your help, but you knew that he did need it once he tried to insert his finger DRY in you. he didn't even know where the clit was! and once you pointed out, he tried to play it like a joystick.

absolutely not!

so there's now shigaraki, having sex education for the first time of his life with you, who's using your body was example. and he finds out that getting himself off can have multiple ways of doing so. even better, he can get you off in multiple ways.

he tries being a dom when he finally gets the chance to use his cock instead of his tongue and fingers like he's been training the past days with you, but he finds the sensation so overwhelming that he crumbles, he almost cries from how good it feels!

so yeah, you now have a whimpering tomura, who's panting and moaning like a bitch while you ride the life out of him. he does cum embarrassingly fast, but that doesn't even matter, because he's somehow still hard! look at that, is that the most frightening villain of the century? crying as you keep on riding his overstimulated cock? blabbing incoherently and barely being able to say anything besides your name?

he can't even think anymore, all has been reduced to obsessive thoughts. his hands travel your body without knowing where to put them. if you let him hold your tits as you almost break his hips from how hard you're riding? he could cum just from that.

he became submissive so fast with you that it's almost pathetic, but you're just as crazy as he is, so instead, it's endearing.

moonie… moonie wtf im shaking… SHAKING !!!

i can just imagine him on top of you, moving the way he thinks he’s supposed to after rotting his brain with porn and hentai, wondering why you haven’t squirted or gone cross eyed yet. he’d be all force and no technique, going fast while you just lay there wondering if this was really what all that talk was about. it would get to the point where you’d have to flip him over, your legs on either of his as you lower yourself onto his cock and ride him nice and slow. and its like agony and bliss had a baby and punched him in the face. he’d throw his head back, muttering something and clenching his teeth as he fights the urge to hammer his hips up against you. but you’re so warm and tight and it’s like you’re sucking the souls out of him with every lazy roll of your hips. he’d try to reach for you, to take control (if you could even call it that) only to be forced down by your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as you begin to go faster… harder. he’d be so loud too, whining and whimpering and feelimg tears prick at the corners of his eyes because fuck, he didn’t know it could feel this good. not with his hands or his toys he might have spent a small fortune on… no, nothing could compare to the way you were clenching around him and milking him dry. he’d be dazed, his heavy lidded eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, gray strands of hair sticking to his flushed, sweat glazed face as he pants before he finds you towering over him once more, your fingers spreading your cunt open and hovering over his lips. and it’s like hes gone dumb, the way he immediately opens up for you, his tongue sticking out for you to lower yourself onto and use while his hands fist into the sheets. he knows better than to reach for you. knows better than to act like he’s the one in control and risk having the euphoric feeling of your pussy on his tongue ripped from him.

only you could put tomura in his place like this <3

life's too short - Viktor x gn!Reader Smut

Notes: I think this is so much softer and more emotional than any of us were expecting 😳 the anon specifically mentioned a GN!Reader for this, so I kept it to oral so as not to describe the reader physically, I hope thats okay! I read that Viktor moved to the Academy at 19, and this is set around Season 1 act 2/3, making him and the reader around 30-1 for this fic. Warnings/Rating: MDNI Smut, oral (male receiving), making out, angst, whiney/subby Viktor, swearing, reader is a prostitute | 18+ for smut Wordcount: 3.2k Synopsis/Request: Hii just a lil request for Jayce or Viktor (your choice) wanting to try something new and visiting a brothel in Zaun for the first time and meeting an old face 🫣 gn reader!!

Masterlist | Dialogue Prompt list

He usually prides himself on managing his stress levels fairly well. Or at least managing to hide his stress well enough that he didn’t have people asking him if he needed a break, or pestering him about taking it easy. 

This month in particular, however, had been too much, even by his standards. 

Between Jayce spending less time in the lab and doctors pestering him every few days about treatment plans, he was close to breaking point and nothing had been able to release it. Not even his well-practised hand had been able to work the tension from his body sufficiently. 

It was true that it had been a painfully long time since he had managed to get his dick wet. Between his illness and the demands of Hextech, there wasn’t exactly time to meet anyone, and his worsening leg meant he wasn’t as fond of stumbling home with someone from a bar as he had been when he was just a 20-something student at the academy. 

He was, to put it simply, pent up. And admitting it to himself had only led him to one conclusion. He needed to get laid. And there was only one place to do that quickly with no questions asked. 

He ducked into the establishment quietly, the thrum of nerves bubbling in his chest as he stepped awkwardly down the corridor, lavisous sounds echoing from rooms beside him as he raised his knuckles to knock on the office door and swallowing thickly when it opened. 

The old Yordle that opened it looked him up and down quickly, a well-practised smile etched on her worn face. “What will it be, sugar?” she drawled, leaning against the door frame and eyeing up his suit. He had changed from his uniform, but all his clothes now screamed Piltie, even when he tried to dress subdued. Whatever he wore, they still all felt so alien to him. 

“Ehm, a-anyone,” he eked out nervously, more unsure of himself now than he had been in years.  

She huffed a soft laugh, taking a drag of her cigarette, “You’re down home now, sweetheart, no need to look so scared,” she drawled, setting his hairs on end as she saw right through him. She nodded down the corridor, “room six. I know what you need. Pay on your way out.” 

He nodded a polite thank you before he made down the corridor again, eyes flicking anxiously from room to room until he found six, stepping through the curtain and relieving a long breath as he sat back on the old, worn velvet couch. His gaze flicked around the room as he waited, unable to settle on any one specific thing as nerves bubbled in his chest, wondering if this is really what would fix the tension between his temples. 

His breath hitched in his throat when the curtain pulled to the side, his jaw falling slack and mouth drying when his eyes fell on your face. He could feel the blood drain from his cheeks, his heart hammering behind his ribs so roughly he was worried that it would fracture them. 

“Viktor?” Your voice was more of a confused gasp than anything else. He shuffled on the work velvet seat to sit more upright, fingers gripping his cane so tightly he was surprised it didn’t break. He simply gawped at you for a moment, his brain rendered near empty upon seeing you for the first time since he left for the Academy. Save for one thought — fuck. 

He swallowed thickly, watching you tighten your robe around you, registering the panic in your movements and struggling to find words. “Wha-what are you doing here?” Your words came out strained. 

He could almost feel the embarrassment rolling off you in waves and his heart clenched, a sudden guilt weighing heavily in his stomach at what had become of the two of you. What he had risen to and left you to bear. 

“What are you doing here?” He returned your question, his throat tight. In all his times imagining seeing you again, not once did he imagine this. 

You looked anywhere but him for a moment, eyes fixing on where his hands rested on his cane to avoid his hazel eyes. “Not all of us get fancy academy jobs,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but he saw how your fingers clenched at the fabric of your robe.

The fabric covered little more than the limits of your torso, riding high on your thighs so as to leave once a little to the imagination. The neckline cut deeply, too, or would do when you didn’t have it pulled firmly around yourself, to show off the deep v of your chest down to your sternum. 

He tore his eyes away, flicking back to your own as you finally met his gaze, skin flushing a deep red in the shame of being caught staring. 

He started to press his weight into his cane, moving to stand, “this was a mistake, I should go.” He shook his head to try and clear them of his guilty thoughts, only for you to stop him, your hand pushing against his shoulder as he moved to step past you. 

You looked at him, doe eyed, your lips slightly parted as you looked him up and down subtly. At this proximity, he could feel your breath hitch slightly as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. 

“You look good, Viktor.” 

His name dropping from your lips had always made him weak, but now it was damn near melting him. There was still a sickening churning in his stomach, however. 

“Please, don’t run your routine on me. Not you.” He rasped, although he was finding it difficult to look away. Your grasp on his shoulder was weak – he could easily push past you and continue out if he wanted to. Yet his feet stayed rooted firmly to the ground. 

“I’m not,” you faltered, hurt returning to your eyes. “I– I just didn’t expect to see you again. Let alone here. It’s been so long.” 

He huffed a sad laugh, “eleven years and eight months, to be precise.” He felt something in his sternum flutter when you chuckled – a genuine warm sound that resounded in his head. 

You both settled into silence that skirted around being comfortable as you just looked at each other, as if you were both silently mapping each other's features to compare them to what you had memorized all those years ago. 

“You can just stay and chat, you know,” you offered quietly, your voice unsure again as you gestured loosely to the couch. “We don’t all just…” you trailed off and he saw your throat bob with an awkward swallow. 

He nodded softly, “of course,” watching you sit across the couch with one arm folded on the back, head resting lightly on your fist before he slid tentatively beside you, easing back into the cushions, unable to tear his gaze away. 

“How’s life in the big city?” You asked, your eyes softening. 

His lips ticked up into a wistful smile, “almost everything we ever imagined.” 

“Almost?” You teased softly, brow raising. 

He hesitated for a moment, wetting his lips as he tried to work out the best way of saying it was nothing without you there to share it with him without scaring you off. 

He remembered the last time he saw you vividly. How you had helped him drag his only suitcase into the cable car, letting you babble on and on about him coming to visit because he knew if you stopped talking you would have cried. And he hated seeing you cry. 

His skin still tingled whenever he thought of the night before, how you had both fallen into your cramped bed together, waking up limbs tangled and wearing nothing but your sheets. 

He remembered how he had promised to come back, only to never find the courage. It hurt him too much to see what he had left you to, his guilt eating away at him for years as he slept in golden gilded apartments and wore well fitting clothes that didn’t have holes in them. Because he didn’t deserve them, and he was sure as hell you’d only grow resentful of them. And rightly so. How him not coming back was better for both of you, letting you move on.

You had both been so young, after all. 

“All that time topside finally worn out your brain?” You teased, your hand coming to rest on his softly, flinching him out of his thoughts. The touch only made it harder for him to focus, his head swimming. 

He finally let out a breathy chuckle, “no, sorry.” He took another deep inhale, “it’s very…” he trailed off, trying to find the right word. He didn’t miss how your eyes flicked over his well-fitting suit. 

“Different?” You filled in for him, sounding quieter and his heart clenched. 

He shuffled awkwardly, moving his hand from under yours. “Yes, different.” He paused for a moment more, building the courage to look at you again. “How have you been?” 

Your lips pressed into a tight, practised smile. “I’m okay. Better than a lot of the others.” Despite your tight tone you sounded genuine. “I’m well looked after here, I always have a meal on the table – It’s not too bad really. Babette looks out for us all.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit,” he hated how pathetic his voice sounded, choking out awkwardly. 

Your small shrug hurt. “It’s okay, like you say, it’s busy up there.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes. 

“That’s no excuse,” he rushed to chastise himself. “I never forgot about you, you know that, don’t you?” 

A look of genuine shock crossed your features momentarily, but you hid it well. “I know,” it was a lie. He could tell. 

He reached out gently again, his hand clasping yours and encouraging you to look at him. He prayed you couldn’t feel the way his skin clammed up as his heart raced, desperate to have your eyes on him again. “I mean it. I thought about you every day – to the point of distraction,” his voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “Despite it all, I never stopped loving you.”

His panic set in as he watched you process his words, sitting silently and pulling in a breath that racked your chest. “After all this time?” 

His eyes flicked down to your lips fleetingly, forcing down the lump in his throat, “Of course. I think a part of me knew if I came back I wouldn’t be able to leave you again. It was hard enough the first time, and I don’t think I want to do it again–” 

He was cut off by your lips pressing to his, his mind immediately going blank as you pushed yourself onto his lap. His hands immediately flew to your hips to steady you against him, groaning as you squeezed your thighs around him gently, breathing in your scent as it washed over him in nostalgic waves. 

Your lips rolled over his messily, your brow lightly furrowed as you cupped his sallow cheeks in your soft hands, kissing him with all the desperation you could muster. It was rushed and unpractised as you bit his lower lip gently, dragging a gasp from his lungs, your tongue instantly taking advantage of it to roll your tongue over his tantalizingly. In an instant, he was 19 again, with you beneath him in your bed. 

You pulled away slightly for breath, dragging your lips down his neck as his head tilted back to allow you, your hand instinctively weaving itself into his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands were longer now but you didn't seem to mind as you tangled it around your fingers and tugged gently, eliciting a shockingly pathetic whine from his lips – one that had him flushing with embarrassment as he realised just how touch starved he had been. 

“Let me take care of you, please?” you muttered against his skin. He swallowed roughly, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your lips. 

“You don’t ha-”

“I want to,” you interrupted him. He searched your eyes for a moment, “It will be nice not having to pretend it's you for a change,” you admitted softly, eyes leaving his for a moment in shame. 

He brought his fingers up gingerly to your jaw, fingers softly lifting your eyes back up to meet his. “You’ll never have to pretend again,” he promised sincerely, lips ticking into an emotional smile as you bit your lip. 

You surged forward again, hot kisses more fervent now as you grinned against his lips, hands finding the sensitive spot against his scalp again and tugging a little more roughly, again pulling a whiney groan from his lips. 

“You haven’t changed, I see?” you teased as your lips made their way down his skin again as his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, kissing each inch of skin as he freed it from the soft fabric. 

“Let me,” you purred softly as you batted his hands away from where they trembled against his belt buckle, your dexterous fingers making light work of it and flicking open the buttons beneath. You had let your kimono fall more loosely around you now, the deep V showing off more of your skin. His eyes trailed down shamelessly and he brought a hand up gingerly, trailing his fingers over the soft expanse of your abdomen, smirking when you shivered under his touch. You stopped him, your hand clasping his wrist tenderly, “Just wanna help you,” you pleaded softly, “at least this time, at least here.” 

He nodded shakily, your fingers drifting over his growing bulge as you slid down between his parted legs to your knees, fingers trailing down his thigh and over the mechanical brace that encased his leg. 

“Let me,” he offered uneasily, trembling fingers ghosting over yours as he struggled with the releases for a moment until they popped out of place, thankful you didn’t choose now to start your inevitable questions as he shoved it to one side and let you drag his trousers down, lifting his hips as best he could to help you and letting his cock spring free with a hiss. 

He watched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips, hands dragging themselves over the pale skin of his thighs towards where his leaking cock lay flush against his stomach, tip dark pink and flushing as it leaked precum. It was astounding the effect you still had on him. 

You leaned forward slowly, dragging your tongue up the thick vein that ran along the underside and he sighed, fingers digging into the pillows beside him as his head fell back at the slightest of touches. 

“Gonna take care of you,” you sighed, one hand wrapping slowly around the base of his cock and squeezing in a tight ring, trapping the blood for just a moment and leaving him gasping. “So hungry for touch, hm?” 

He nodded pathetically, hips bucking against your hand as you breath fanned over him. You chuckled lovingly, placing a barely-there kiss to the weeping slit. “Missed you, Viktor.” 

He didn’t have time to process a response before you sunk down on him, splitting your lips around his cock and sucking him in, bottoming out with a small gag. 

He whined at the warmth of your cheeks as they surrounded him, hollowing as you pulled off of him with a pop, working him with your hand, your saliva drooling down him and acting as lube as you pumped him, circling your wrist as you did so. 

His back arched away from the cushions as you pulled him between your lips again, twirling your tongue around the tip and flicking attentively at the slit, lapping up his salty precum loyally before sinking back down around him again, bobbing your head halfway down his cock teasingly. 

He pulled his head back up shakily, cracking his eyes open to watch you as you swallowed around him, hand and head moving in perfect unison around him, bringing him to the brink before easing off with practised ease. He was surprised he didn’t cum just from a brush of your fingers it had been so long. 

He brought his hand to your head experientially, pressing down on your scalp gently and you took the hint, sinking back down him fully until his tip nudged the back of your throat, forcing a gag that had your eyes watering. 

He whimpered as his balls clenched, “Y-you’re so good at this – take me s-so well.” Every syllable was effort as you doubled down on your movements, slurping loudly on his cock as your drool dropped down his shaft to his balls. He was well aware that his hair was plastered to his forehead at this point, sweat beading along his skin as he sunk down on the couch, struggling to support his own weight as his mind turned to jelly, every inch of his skin on fire under your touch. Even his loose, undone shirt was sticking to his torso as his bare chest heaved. 

“Ahh- nghh,” He practically cried when your spare hand came up to cup his balls, rolling them curiously between your fingers. His fingers tightened their grip on your head as he bucked up into you uncontrollably, his eyes squeezed shut again as his heels dug into the floor for leverage. His movements were pathetic against you, rutting into you like a teenager again as he grasped for you, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, mixed with words in a language he knew you wouldn’t understand as the tension in his stomach built, his balls and cock twitching in your grasp. 

“Gonna–” he could barely croak out the word as the band snapped. He came in hot spurts, whining and thrashing as he released into your throat, coating your tongue with his spend as you lapped it up, pressing him deeper into your mouth as you continued to work him through his orgasm, fingers still squeezing his balls for every drop even when he was whimpering and pulling his hips away from you, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. As you slowed, letting his slowly softening cock go with a few final attentive licks, cleaning his slit of his sticky spend. 

He laid there for a moment, eyes still closed as he gasped for breath, only half aware of you moving until he felt a soft cloth on him, eyes fluttering open to see you cleaning him up diligently. He rushed to stop you, flushing with awkwardness only for you to bat him away with a soft smile, tossing the cloth to the side before helping him with his clothes again, tucking yourself back by his side as he buttoned up his shirt. 

“I want you to come with me,” he muttered softly, fingers brushing across your cheek after tightening his brace again. 

“Vik-” 

“No, no protests,” he shook his head, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “I am not leaving you behind again. Life’s too short.” he ignored your worried look as he kissed you again, stopping any questions before they could form on your lips. “Get your things together. I’m doing what I should have done years ago.” 

jayce with fem reader first time being so embarassed about his cock size because he thinks it’s small but it’s actually huge.

he’s pathetically rutting into you whilst you praise him for having such a big and pretty cock!!! -🫧

▶︎ TOO BIG? | he’s just so big that it drives you insane…

▶︎ OKAY BUT ACTUALLY — this awakened something in me ngl. so much so that i’m ignoring my 10+ other drafts to write it but i didn’t say that… also i’m so sorry for how inactive i’ve been, writer’s block sucks ass. i really love all of you!! ❤️❤️💋

“oh my god, jay— fuck, mmh, so b-big—!”

your pussy is drooling around the thick cock fucking into it, walls fluttering against every wet drag n’ slide of the searing flesh. jayce had been so bashful before, mumbling and stuttering over himself about how “unsatisfying” his cock may be —

yet here he was, pounding straight into your stomach and fucking you up in every way — you were going dumb on the biggest cock you’d ever fucking seen, ears full of his ragged pants and grunts as he snaps his hips into yours painfully.

unsatisfying. bullshit. there was nothing unsatisfying about jayce talis’ pretty cock.

“so good, jay, fuck, you’re splitting me in half.” you whine out, head lolling back and shaky ankles locking at his lower back. his heavy balls smack into your ass with every powerful thrust, twitching and spasming against the flesh — he’s so thick that your walls are bruising, spread open and battered in the best way.

“god, i-i — feels so good, ‘m goin’ crazy,” jayce responds back, words breathy and pitched, punctuated by slick squelches from your pussy. his nails dig crescents into your plush thighs as he holds you up with incomparable strength, body weight only slightly supported by the desk beside you.

“me too,” you pant, grappling at his shoulders with liquified hands. “your cock is so fucking good, jay — fucks my pussy so good, fuck, don’t stop.”

jayce’s breath shudders in his lungs and his cock kicks inside your walls, your filthy words affecting him viscerally — his hips stutter ever so slightly, thrusts turning sloppy for a fraction of time; but then he’s kicking it into gear again, fucking into your sloppy pussy so fast and hard you start to see stars.

“fuck, yes! jus’ like that, jay, fuckin’ ruin me,” you mewl, drool slipping past your lip to cool against your chin. it feels so fuckin’ good; it’s intense and almost overwhelming, the feeling of being stuffed full over and over shoving a thick fog into your head and stealing your coherency completely; almost complete dumbification.

“shit i— god, you sound so sexy, ‘m not sure if i can l-last,” jayce nearly whimpers, movements sloppier than before. the kicking of his cock is consistent now, heralding a spiraling approach of his orgasm.

if you were being honest, this knowledge didn’t even disappoint you like it would have with your previous partners; on the contrary, the thought of feeling cum shoot out of his huge cock had you trembling inside.

“‘s okay, jay— jus’ keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop fuckin’ me— fuck me ‘til you cum. fill me up, jay, i want it; wanna feel this beautiful cock mess me up—!”

“shit! oh, my god, fuck, okay — please, talk to me more, tell me how good it feels, please —!”

despite the fog in your head, jayce’s plea had something clicking within it; mr. talis harbors a huge praise kink. aww, that’s so adorable.

“it feels so good, jay.” you coo, a little slurred, train of thought bouncing around with each harsh thrust inside your sloppy pussy. “your cock fucks me so good. so big and pretty, fuck, you’re amazing, jay — ‘m goin’ crazy, i love your cock.”

your ability to speak at all is completely robbed when jayce readjusts his grip on your thighs and angles his hips — and the most guttural, lewd yelp tears through your throat when he begins to slam into your body hard and fast. much harder and faster than before.

“god, pretty pussy, such a good pussy, feels s’good and tight — god, my dick feels like it’s bein’ choked, s’good—!”

you can’t even fully register jayce’s babbling through the ringing in your ears; your pussy feels as though it’s being savagely rearranged, cervix sore from countless assaults — he’s using you like some sort of toy, fucking into you for his pleasure alone.

and it feels so fucking good.

the only sounds you can produce are moans and mewls, but it’s incentive enough for jayce to continue to rut into you. there was a familiar tension building in your gut, one that became more and more intense with each shove of his cock into your walls — fuck, you were going to cum soon.

“jay— gon’a cum,” you force out, eyes rolling back and muscles melting. if jayce heard you, he didn’t answer back; not verbally, at least. but his hips did pick up even more speed, fucking you so brutally that it knocked your breath from your lungs.

“fuck—!” was the only thing you managed to yelp out before your orgasm crashed through your body, swollen clit forming its own heartbeat as it throbbed to the eddying waves of pleasure. the ringing in your ears was so loud now, overtaking every other sound in the room.

even jayce’s growl of “‘m comin’!” as his hips stuttered once, then twice, before he buried himself deep inside your cunt and stilled — thick ropes splattered hot against your walls, so copious that you could feel it leak out around jayce’s cock and slip down your ass.

by the time the ringing in your ears ceased, jayce had already come down from his high for the most part. you fluttered open eyes that you have no remembrance of closing only to find jayce staring at you with worry.

“are you okay?” he asks, voice strained and thick, and you can’t help but smile at him dopily.

“never better.” you murmur, body still tingling from aftershocks.

how the hell jayce could have ever thought of his cock as “unsatisfying” was a mystery you weren’t sure you could solve.

BIG WINGS

like how utterly BEAUTIFUL is the desperation in the way he’s frantically stumbling around and slamming you into the walls, grasping your arms like ur gonna disappear??? lmao lmao lmao lmaoooooooo

I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS

☆ Gojo is always so cocky before you peg him. Confident, taking charge as if he's not about to be fucked from behind like a whore. He'll dirty talk you, try to fluster you with his honeyed words as you're pulling the strap on.

"Gonna fuck me so good, baby?" He purrs, wrapping his fingers around the pretty blue strap: perhaps to gauge the size. He jerks it a little, mirrors the way he'd stroke himself to the thought of being fucked senseless by you. "Hopefully you can keep up with me."

It's all talk, a veil of confidence only barely masking his desperation beneath, which burns hot and angry and threatens to ignite into something all-consuming if it isn't soon put out. You think of wrecking his ego, making him get down on his knees and suck the plastic for show. He'd look so pretty, looking up at you through his lashes as he served the strap with his mouth and tongue.

Oh but he's prepped and ready, and you're itching to erode at his cocky smile. You have him lay on his back, so you can watch as his lips curl downwards when you slide a finger into him, rather than the strap he's been promised.

"Fuck, I don't need it," he whines, tries to reach down and pull your wrist up and away from him but you swat him away with a tsk.

"You're so impatient."

"Just fuck me already."

Sweet Satoru regrets his words when you line your pretty blue strap up with his ass and push in only an inch of two. The sharp hiss of him steeling himself with a breath is music to your ears, and though he tries desperately to keep the cocky act up, you can see it slipping.

You give him another inch, and he bites back a moan. "That's... all you got?"

"No," you click your teeth. "But, it's all you'll get if you don't start begging, baby."

He gives you a look, tries his best to look annoyed, but his cock is so hard it hurts and the corners of his lips are curling upwards in a grin regardless. His pleads start out dramatic, joking.

"Please fuck me, babe," he drawls, but as you inch further inside of him at his request, he gasps. Very quickly, any cockiness in his tone is replaced by raw need. "Fuck, more—please, really, I need it."

His eyes are wide at the stretch, the all-encompassing fullness he's feeling, and the grief he feels when you pull almost all the way out of him.

"Wait don't pull out I'll beg I'll—"

His pleads get stuck in his throat when you push forward and bury your strap completely in his ass. Satoru chokes out the prettiest moan, meets your eyes for half a second as you pull back, and then falls into complete ecstasy as you snap your hips back into his again.

From there, he's gone. Malting into the mattress as you fuck him at the pace he responds best to—a torturous middle ground between painfully slow and so fast it's over too soon. Satoru whines, seemingly already overstimulated by your movements, but you're far from done with him.

Satoru Gojo is the strongest. He's untouchable, really, and here you are ten inches deep inside of him and watching as hot tears spring into his beautiful blue eyes. He's sweating, exerting himself entirely to taking all that you can give him; and you're sure he'd take more if you had it for him—he's at the base of your strap and whining like a whore on it.

"Close," his voice is quiet and desperate and you love the way it melts into the air around you. You fuck him harder, faster, a bruising pace that might be more for you than him, but he takes it with shaky breaths and a heaving chest because he's addicted to the shape of your plastic cock inside of his ass.

You fuck him through his orgasm, watch as his cock—which is reddening with angry need—spurts ropes of cum all over his stomach, pearlescent and almost unending. You smile at the sight, stalling your hips to let him catch his breath after cumming so hard without his cock even being touched.

He's a mess, sensitive and breathless as you trace your fingertips through the mess of cum glossing his tummy. Satoru watches with parted lips as you do so, half-expecting you to bring your fingers to his lips for him to clean up the mess he made. But you don't. Instead, you press down hard on his tummy and listen to the lewd noise that rips from his throat when you feel just how deep you are inside of him.

"Here, baby," you coo, grabbing at the wrist Satoru shoots down to try and pull your hand from his stomach with. You press his palm down onto his cum-covered stomach and have him feel for himself the bulge that you've created with the tip of your strap inside of him.

A moment passes, something flickers in your gaze that turns Satoru's mouth dry. "Don't move your hand, Toru, understand me? Keep pressing down."

Satoru parts his lips to protest, but you're pulling out and plunging back into his ass with a mean thrust of your hips before he can say a word. The nastiest moan slips from his lips, half ecstatic, half overstimulated.

"Fucking you so deep you can feel it from the outside, huh baby? Taking my cock so well, letting me use you like you're the toy."

Your words are enough to encourage Satoru into a second round; though this time you're meaner than before. You pull his legs up a little, manage a position that allows you to get impossibly deeper inside of him, and hen thrust your hips forward to test the water.

He's drooling. His lips are wet with spit and cheeks stained with new-flowing tears. He loves it, though, you can feel the clench of his ass in the way it becomes just that little bit harder to thrust into him. With each mean snap of your hips though, you watch as Satoru presses down harder on his belly to feel you bullying your plastic strap into his ass.

You find a nice pace and match it with your fingers wrapped around his cock. Stroking him only makes your lover needier, bucking his hips up instinctually just to gasp at how the movement fucks himself onto your strap too. By the time his second orgasm is approaching, you can't tell who's doing more of the work: he's frenzied and cumdrunk and can't see straight between the blinding pleasure and tears in his eyes.

"Good boy," you praise as he cums again, his whole body racked with tremors and his eyes quite literally rolling back as he releases all over the hand that presses down to feel you. You give him a minute, let his catch his lost breath and wipe his tears from his eyes with the hand that isn't covered in his own cum.

Though, once you're confident he's at ease enough for you to slowly pull out and start giving him aftercare, his legs lock around your waist and keep you buried deep.

You've never seen such a look on his face before—ravenous.

"Again."

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18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

BeefyHimbo!Toji who never pays attention in class so he’s forced to ask you the stupidest questions, but when he hears your sweet, honeyed voice for the first time, he can’t help but to ask more and more and more.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who clumsily leans in closer, committing the warm, cloying scent of your gourmand perfume to memory. Who can’t help but to press his thighs together in a fruitless attempt to dull the ache of his pathetically drooling cock.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who stares up at you dumbly, utter infatuation emanating from his unrelenting gaze, chin resting in the palm of his hand as you solve a simple equation for him in his barren, yet oddly tattered college ruled notebook.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who subconsciously searches for you at the beginning of class, hoping to find a vacant seat beside you. Whose eyes soften when he finally catches a glimpse of your pretty face at the rear of the drab room.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who fishes a singular, wilting daisy from his lint-laden pockets, claiming that he plucked it from the university’s horticulture garden just for you. Who apprehensively presents you with the plainly heartfelt gift, praying you’ll welcome his flattery with enthusiasm.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who beams in his overwhelming excitement when you tuck the withering flower behind your ear, a gracious smile marring your lips. Whose cock grows embarrassingly hard when you mindlessly squeeze the fat of his thigh beside you in appreciation.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who soon excuses himself to flee to the restroom, desperate to relieve the gut wrenching throb of his cock, and unbeknownst to you, it’s all your fault.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who fucks his fist in the farthest stall of the restroom, imagining you sprawled out beneath him, your trembling thighs pressed to the unkempt sheets as he brainlessly stuffs you with the entirety of his cock.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who orgasms so incredibly hard that he’s forced to clamp a big hand over his mouth, thick, syrupy ropes of cum painting the graffitied walls of the public bathroom stall. Who doesn’t even bother to wash his fucking hands afterwards.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who eventually returns to class, flustered, a mysterious, dark stain adorning the gray fleece of his sweatpants. Who can hardly look you in the eyes as he plops down beside you, ashamed of how much of a slut he is for a girl he’s convinced wouldn’t give him half a chance.

But, when BeefyHimbo!Toji discovers that you’re not entirely opposed to the notion after a long night of fruitless studying, a switch flips.

Now, BeefyHimbo!Toji has you pressed apart on his disheveled, plaid sheets just as he imagined, your sobbing pussy taking his cock to the base over and over and over again, his large hands keeping you wide and accessible and all fucking his.

BeefyHimbo!Toji who’s utterly incapable of comprehending just how big his cock is in comparison to your slobbering little holes. Who can’t mentally grasp the fact that he’s so much larger than you.

And BeefyHimbo!Toji who accidently cums sooo fucking deep inside of you because he’s too distraught by his animalistic need to fuck and breed that he can’t possibly imagine cumming anywhere other than your sweet, welcoming cunt.

But… can you actually blame him? He doesn’t know any better, what did you expect? :(

note: hey, you! if you’ve read this before, don’t be alarmed! this is just a re-upload from my previous blog which was unfortunately marked as explicit. i’m in the process of transferring all of my work over to this blog. thanks for bearing with me, pretty! <3

love, ny

We love depressed dads beating up a bitch for their little princesses