Smut Fic - Blog Posts

Eyyyy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63029752/chapters/161419603

Why do all chubby reader fanfics have to have the reader being degraded and humiliated, LIKE it’ll start with some sexy or awesome concept in the story and then boom, submissive reader. LIKE PLEASE FEED ME SOME DOM PLUSIZED ACTION. But when I do find one It ends up poorly written and rushed or to short. HELPP

Jealousy: Tendou (NSFW)

The event was a swirl of warm lighting, soft laughter, and the rich, heady scent of tempered chocolate and burnt sugar.

Somewhere in the heart of Tokyo, a five-star patisserie had been transformed into an evening affair—a private industry showcase for chefs, culinary press, and the occasional wide-eyed investor. Tendou Satori moved through the space like he belonged to it. Which, of course, he did.

You stood near the back wall, watching him with an easy smile. Even dressed in black slacks and a soft linen shirt, half-buttoned and rolled at the forearms, he looked like trouble. The smooth curve of his freshly-shaved head caught the ambient light, shining faintly as he turned in profile to greet a cluster of press. He was striking—his angular features more mature now, but his grin still full of mischief, his eyes always dancing.

You were his plus one tonight—his girlfriend, his anchor, his favorite distraction. And while you didn’t know the first thing about ganache ratios or butter emulsions, you did know the way he talked about his craft with such unfiltered joy. It was endearing. Infectious. Sexy.

The event had gone well—Tendou had been in his element, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand as he joked his way through tasting stations and critiques. You’d lingered behind while he stayed back to help clean up, perched near the edge of the room, sipping something bubbly and watching him from afar.

That’s when Ryouta—one of the younger chefs, clean-cut and too confident—approached you again. You’d met him earlier, briefly, and now he was back, a tray of glossy pastries balanced on one hand.

“Still hungry?” he asked with a smirk, holding out a delicate lemon-honey tart on a golden tasting spoon.

“It was really good,” you admitted politely.

“Here,” he said, stepping closer, holding out a dark, glossy square balanced on a miniature spatula. “This one’s been giving me trouble all month—bittersweet ganache with orange blossom and sea salt. Let me know if it actually works this time.”

He watched you intently as you leaned forward. “It’s all about the bloom at the end. Should hit just after the salt fades.”

You bit. Smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, already reaching into the tray again. “Alright. Try this one too—different profile, less floral.”

He held it between two fingers, lifted it toward your lips.

You hesitated. “Uh…”

“It’s fine,” he laughed. “Happens all the time at these things. No one touches anything with their own hands.”

That logic was questionable, but the dessert smelled incredible, so you took it gently from his fingers and let it melt on your tongue. Rich. Decadent. It bloomed in layers—bitter, then sweet, then citrus.

You were nodding in delight when a voice—low and sing-song—broke the moment in two.

“Well, this looks cozy.”

You turned.

Tendou stood just a few feet away, hands in his pockets, head tilted like a cat watching something wiggle in the grass. His expression was all sharp corners and candy-coated charm, but you could see it—the tension. The tightness in his shoulders. The twitch of his jaw as his eyes dragged over Ryouta’s hand, still hovering too close to your mouth.

“Oh, Satori,” Ryouta said, laughing. “She’s got a good palate. I was just letting her—”

“Feed her with your fingers?” Tendou cut in, smiling wide. “How generous.”

You blinked. “Wait, it’s not like—”

But he was already by your side. He slid an arm around your waist and plucked your champagne flute from your hand like it had offended him personally.

“We’re gonna head out,” he said cheerfully to no one in particular. “Enjoy the rest of the night. Try not to lose any more chocolates to strangers.”

And then he was guiding you—no, steering you—toward the doors. Not rough, not rude, but with enough silent urgency that you didn’t ask questions.

Not until you were in the car.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “What was that?”

Tendou didn’t answer at first. His fingers drummed against his knee, eyes fixed on the city lights flashing past the window.

You leaned in. “Satori.”

“I watched another man feed you dessert with his fingers,” he said, tone bright and clipped. “Which was wild, by the way.”

You blinked. “He’s a chef.”

He turned his head toward you, smiling a little too wide. “So am I. But I don’t let people lick chocolate off my hands unless they’re gonna moan about it later.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I didn’t moan.”

“Not yet.”

The rest of the ride was quiet. But your body wasn’t. Your heart drummed loud in your ears, a slow and fluttery pulse you could feel all the way down your arms. There was a weight behind his silence that made your thighs press together involuntarily, your breath shallow with anticipation.

Every glance he didn’t give you felt like a brush of fire, and every flex of his fingers against his knee sent a little jolt down your spine. You were still tasting the chocolate—but now it was wrapped in tension, thick with something dangerous and deeply personal. It sat behind your teeth like a promise unspoken.

But the moment the door shut behind you both at home, it was like the tension snapped loose.

Tendou grabbed your wrist and tugged you to him—not harshly, but with purpose. His mouth met yours in a kiss that was all teeth and caramel heat, hands sliding up your sides like he couldn’t decide where to hold you first.

You gasped into him. “Satori—”

“I don’t share,” he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, your throat. “Not food. Not you. Not the way you taste.”

He backed you toward the kitchen counter, palms skimming down your thighs to lift you up with practiced ease. Your legs wrapped around his waist without thinking.

“I didn’t think it would bother you,” you whispered, breath catching as he kissed your collarbone, nipping just hard enough to make you shiver.

“It didn’t,” he said, voice dark. “Until it did.”

He tugged your dress up, mouth following the line of your thigh, his hands everywhere—hot, demanding, worshipful.

“You gonna let anyone else feed you like that?” he asked, just before he slid your panties aside with two fingers.

You moaned. “No—”

“Say it.”

“I won’t,” you gasped, hips jerking as his mouth met you, tongue sweeping slow and devastating. He licked into you deliberately, like he wanted to savor every reaction—every stuttering moan, every twitch of your legs around his shoulders.

His fingers gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open while he devoured you. It built steadily—no teasing, no games—just hungry focus and the low hum of pleasure as he drank down every sound you gave him. You couldn’t stop it; your legs were trembling, your fingers tangled in his shirt as the heat curled, then peaked—

You came with a cry that echoed through the foyer, hips bucking as his name slipped broken from your lips. He didn’t stop until you were shivering, overstimulated, eyes glassy.

He looked up, mouth slick, eyes shining with something darker than mischief. “We’re not done.”

Then he stood, leaned in close, and kissed you deep—slow and messy and full of intent.

And melt, you did.

Again and again, until the only thing you could remember was how his name sounded in your mouth and how good it felt to be wanted this much.

—

The morning after, the room was quiet.

Golden light slipped through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the sheets. Tendou lay on his side, propped on one elbow, head tilted slightly as he watched you sleep. You were sprawled against the pillow, breathing slow and steady, hair tousled from his hands and the night before. The blanket had slipped down just enough to reveal the evidence.

His marks.

Your skin was littered in them—hickeys blooming along your collarbone and throat like wine-stained petals, small bruises dusting your ribs, and faint bite marks along the curve of your thigh where the sheet barely clung. Some were shallow, teasing reminders. Others were darker, deeper. Possessive.

He let his fingers trace a lazy path down your spine, not enough to wake you, but enough to feel you sigh in your sleep, your body instinctively curling toward the touch.

He smiled to himself.

“You’re covered in me,” he murmured, voice low, smug, and barely audible. His hand ghosted over the marks like he was admiring a painting he'd made just for himself.

You stirred slightly, blinking against the pillow. “You went feral,” you muttered, voice rough with sleep.

He chuckled, eyes still on you. “You liked it.”

You rolled onto your side, facing him now, the sheet falling from your shoulder.

“You got jealous over chocolate.”

“I got jealous over you.” His eyes met yours—sharp, unrepentant, glowing in the morning light. “And I’d do it again.”

You didn’t answer right away. You just leaned in and kissed him, slow and warm, lips brushing his lazily, your hand cupping his jaw.

“I think you left a tooth mark on my hip,” you whispered, breath curling against his mouth.

“Good,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching up. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.”

GOJO AND FACESITTING PLEASE 🙏🙏

ⵌ — bring it over here .ᐟ

˖ ࣪ ٬ satoru gojo x reader

<16 & ageless blogs dni

contents Ⳋ facesitting, dirty talk, gojo is so tantalizing, praise, sub!reader , dom!gojo, he’s a lil full of himself (but who wouldn’t be), premature ejaculation

a/n : back on my writing grind :3 thankx for requesting this liv, wanted to write for gojo for some time now !!! i love him RAHHH i need him so bad, not proof read cus im lazy

word count: 1.1k

“don’t you jus’ love being mine?”

you and your boyfriend gojo were relaxing on your shared bed; propped up against the headboard and engaging in random conversation. the tv was buzzing in the background, the faint illumination of it being the only source of light. you deadpan at his comment. “huh?” you smirk slightly, looking over at him, “what d’you mean?”

“oh, y’know,” he starts, leaning his head against yours and squeezing you close against his side with a small ‘oomf’ at the sudden impact from you, “not everyone gets a taste of the strongest. it comes with some perks! i mean, wouldn’t you agree?” he nudges you, playfulness evident in his features.

you decide to endulge in his banter, and you turn so you’re able to look at him properly. “yeah? what ‘perks’ are you referring to?” you ask with air quotations, and a mischievous glint sparks in his blue irises. “for starters,” he maneuvers you so he can sit behind you, his hands sprawling on your stomach as he inhales your sweet scent, “protection, for one.”

“i know everyone’s always after me, but they’ll never dare to touch you. they know what will happen either way.” he says with a nonchalant shrug and you snicker. “i suppose you’re right about that,” you nudge, “what else?”

he smiles, moving his head down to nip at the skin of your neck. “well, there’s the matter of pleasure,” he emphasizes, and you tilt your head with a playful roll of your eyes to give him more access to your neck. you can’t deny it, though; there’s no doubt that he makes you feel the best you’ve ever had, both intimately and domestically.

“sounds appealing,” you joke, and nip the plush of your bottom lip at the feeling of his lips traveling along the sensitive area. he chuckles, and you can feel it rumble deep within his chest from behind you. he bites down on your shoulder playfully. “oh, but you haven’t even heard the best part yet,” he pulled you close so your back his flush against his and you feel him smirk against your skin.

“the best part of being mine is i love spoiling you.” you let out a small laugh; it’s true, he really did spoil you. you sigh, leaning your head against his cheek. “yeah, trust me i know. i think you spoil me a little too much.”

he moves his hands to rest on your waist and he squeezes. “too much? nah, no such thing of too much when it comes t’you, sweetheart.” he nuzzles his face into your neck. “i like takin’ care of you, y’deserve it.” you sigh, slumping against him with a soft smile. “you’re cute, but it only makes me want to repay you.”

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle as he firmly holds you. “there’s no need. seein’ you happy and taken care of is my repayment.” his voice is laced with genuine affection; you know he means it.

“but . . . if you insist on repaying me, i can think of somethin’ you can do for me.”

and that’s how you ended up hovering over his face hesitantly, your hands gripping onto the headboard as his hands rested on your thighs. you’re dripping; your essence dropping onto his lips which only makes him more impatient. “cmon, baby. sit that pretty lil’ pussy on me. gonna make you feel good, promise. you wanted to repay me, right? sit.”

you swallow thickly, looking down at him hesitantly. “but— what if i hurt you? like, what if you can’t breathe?” he laughs at your nervousness and pats your leg in reassurance. “trust me, sweet girl. you’re not gonna hurt me, ‘nd i’ll breathe. you can do it, cmon.”

you sigh, reluctantly sitting on his face. you don’t sit all the way; but that’s not enough. he pulls your thighs and makes you sit fully and he wastes no time digging in to his favorite meal — you.

his tongue dives deep into your slit, his nose rubbing against your clit with fervor. you let out a sharp moan at the sudden pleasure and your hands grip impossibly tight around the headboard. “oh— oh fuck, ‘toru,” you cry, one of your hands flying down to grip at his hair.

he groans as pries his eyes open to look up at you with half-lidded eyes, humming the occasional ‘mhm’ against your folds; the vibrations going straight to your core.

your lips are parted with each gasp and you look down at him with the flushed embarrassment on your face. you feel him smirk against you — dick.

“y’feelin’ good, baby? i am, y’taste so good, so sweet.” you whine and your fingers tangle in his white locs. “yeahh, grip my hair, baby. fuck back on my tongue, cmon.” he pats your ass encouragingly and your hips begin to rock against his lips.

he welcomes it, the lewd squelch of your juices only serves as a further reminder of how good you feel. you feel fucked dumb already — the slurping sounds the only thing keeping you grounded. he moans himself, his hips shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable with the twitching boner in his boxers.

you can feel your orgasm building up within you, your hips stuttering. he reaches his hands up to wrap around the underside of your thighs and rocks you for you, the stimulation being too much. “toru,” you whimper, “‘s too much, ‘m gonna cum.”

he smiles against you and flicks his tongue over your pearl. “yeah? i got you, baby. cum all over this tongue, ‘s gonna feel so good,” he encourages, and it works.

your orgasm hits you without warning, and you go quiet for a moment in a silent scream as you finally let out a loud moan, your legs shaking beside either side of his head as your back arches and you try to sit up from his mouth. he shakes his head, prolonging your release as long as he can, drinking every splash of essence that leaked out of you.

he finally releases his grip on your thighs and you hover over him with gasps and pants. “such a good girl,” he compliments, “felt good, huh? i told you. you were so sweet, angel.” he smiles up at you. you swing your leg back over him so now you’re laying on your back next to him as you caught your breath and he turns to wrap an arm around your waist. you notice that he’s a little breathless himself.

“did so good,” he kisses your temple, and you melt into him. you blink open your eyes. “what about you, toru?” you ask, and he smiles. “don’t worry about that,” he waves off, and you sit up to glance down at his boxers. you take note with wide eyes at the wet patch on it tinged with white. you look over at him, eyeing the lazy smirk on his lips.

“heh, told you it’d repay me.”

© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

so like ive never written smut and my writing is way different than any ive seen so i did some practice. and i expect feedback. 🧍‍♀️plus this isn’t about sm1 specific imagine it as you like

warnings(?): some pwp for the fuck of it, suggestive, sadomasochism, knife kink :3c, just a little sumsum

✦•······················•✦•···········································•✦•······················•✦

cold. so cold.

shivers down your spine making you feel like a scared cat, if you could focus on that look on her face you’d think you also look like one.

a half smile, bent brows, so many emotions flowing in and out the current of your faces right in front of each other.

eyes don’t meet, lips don’t speak, breathing unmatched and trembling feet.

sound of clothes ripping interrupt the heavy breathing and unstoppable thinking

“you’re doing so good,” all in one sigh

no matter how wide your eyes are, you cannot see anything anywhere, yet she can see everything, even if you’re not speaking, she can hear every thought and choked word.

eyes on the hand

that hand that holds the knife

face flushed, legs weak, but you’re already laying down, how much lower can you go?

your hands gripping on your skirt are more prone to bleeding than your knife-teased neck

“do you not have trust in me?”

those eyes, so soft-bent, so shiny. you know they’re not sincere, their shine matches the knives and they look like they can break you.

welcome to my blog❕

I’ve been a writer for years, for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never actually used tumblr as a writing platform. I really want to get back into writing more often and I’ve been stuck in my Colby Brock phase for a good while now, don’t think that’s changing any time soon.

SO.

go ahead and follow if you’re interested in fics or one-shots surrounding colby. I will happily take requests! both sfw and nsfw as well. gimme all the smut ideas. I look forward to seeing the little community I might possibly grow here.

not me daydreaming about ghost fingering you and not stopping until he’s made you squirt for the first time ever🤭

after that, he’d probably use his cock to see if it can make you do the same as he pinches your sensitive little clit

I'm probably going to be smited to hell for this, but my first smut fic, I guess. This is p.ai.nter x reader, so...

THIS FIC HAS SEXUAL CONTENT AND A BIT OF GENDER DYSPHORIA, THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING!!!

(Pls don't kill me for this,,, this fic will also make ZERO SENSE POSSIBLY, I'M STUPID.)

(In this story, you're an engineer, and built him a robotic body so that he could practically do whatever he wants.)

It has been 3 months since you and p.ai.nter escaped the blacksites together somehow. Things have been doing ok for the both of you... That is when p.ai.nter suffered gender dysphoria about 3 times during those months. He never really felt like a guy. His thoughts always found a way to make him feel bad about himself. That is, until one day, you wanted him to feel better about himself. So one day, you visited the shared bedroom between the both of you. He was just there, laying on the bed, the blanket covering his large, beautiful, fat body while he was on sleep mode. Then, you decided to walk up to the bed, crawl into bed with him, and then you would start to cuddle him close while wrapping your arms around him. His large belly gently pressing up against your body. Then, that's when he decided to leave sleep mode, and acknowledge you.

"Oh, hi there."

He drowsily greeted you as he laid with you, all 6 of his mechanical arms wrapped around your body as a gentle blush would spread across your face. And a gentle, pink blur would spread across his screen, trying to reciprocate the feelings you had for him. But then... Your cock would poke upwards through your pants and press up against his lower belly. The pink across his screen would flush up even more as he would start to stutter.

"I-... I-..."

He nervously stutters, not knowing what else to say. Then, you would start to undo your belt, and remove your belt, pants, and boxers all in one. His legs starting to spread open underneath the sheets. You would proceed to roll him over onto his back, and remove the blanket from both of your bodies, revealing your hard, long cock, and his soaking wet pussy from underneath the blanket.

And that's when he ambitiously said yes to your advances.

You would start to edge his labia with your cock as he would let out a few soft moans as you continued to tease him gently.

And then... You slid your tip into him, and then the entire thing all the way up into his pussy as he would let out a loud, shaky moan from his speakers as you started to thrust your cock deeply inside of his pussy. His speakers letting out a few moans with every deep, yet gentle thrust into his pussy as you placed your hand onto his belly, and started to gently squish his belly with it. Whispering to him about how he'll always be a man as you continued to fuck him gently and reassure him about his gender identity.

And after about 30 minutes to about an hour. His systems were running on low battery now. As you gently placed your hands on his hips, you would see a steady amount of cum leaking from his pussy as he had an exhausted, yet contented look on his screen. His screen, chest, and peaks of his shoulders covered in lipstick marks as he laid there, panting.

Then, you would grab the tip of his cable tail (which is an outlet plug,) and plug him into the nearest outlet next to your bed for him to charge up. Then, you carefully roll him onto his side, and nuzzle up into his neck, starting to let your subconsciousness take over as you would hear one last thing from him before he goes into sleep mode.

"I love you..."