Impractical Jokers: [Joker]xReader Collection

Sal x Reader - Filthy

You barely make it through his front door before he's slammed you against the wall and kissed you so hard you forget how to breathe. Immediately, you feel hands exploring you and the scratch of his beard against your chin and it heats you from the inside out, legs threatening to give out as the Joker takes to unbuttoning your coat and hanging it absent-mindedly from muscle memory alone, his own following sloppily. After the pair of you kick your shoes off, your mouths are reconnected harshly once more, hands travelling over bodies like they've never been explored before.

Sal all but drags you onto the couch, mounting your body before you have a chance to even blink. His weight atop you brings a sense of relief and, as he presses his hips into you and you feel the growing excitement between his legs, your pulse increases and you moan with sheer joy when he kisses you once more. What can you say without sounding cliche? He completes you– he fixes the loneliness that has been eating away at you ever since you can remember.

"[Y/N]..." Sal breathes heavily in between kisses, heated exchanges driving you wild as you arch your hips off of the couch and grind into him. "Thanks for cutting the night short and coming home with me... couldn't take it any more..."

He's already sliding his hands under your shirt, tearing fabric away with speed and desperation as you laze back and let him. It's not that you don't feel the passion, rather that you're the reason he's in this state in the first place; sitting opposite him while he'd been trying to play an insignificant game of cards with the guys and rubbing against him with your foot. He'd kept giving you pleading glances when the Jokers were preoccupied and caught up in conversation - and you had given him a grin the devil would have been proud of and pressed harder, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth as you feigned concentration. His lips had pressed tightly together and he'd mouthed 'stop that' several times before his mood - and admittedly, his hardness - had changed, silent warnings turning more erotic as he'd switched to 'I'm going tofuck you when we get home'. All you had done was grinned wolfishly, daring him.

Cool air hits your bare body and you realise with some amount of admiration that he's already undressed you and is unbuckling his belt. As Sal slides his pants and boxers down his legs, you're left to stare at the hard length, a smirk tugging at your lips. Oh, you want him; you want him so badly... but it's fun to see how far you can push him, and so it is with a confident hand that you reach out and run your thumb over his tip.

Sal doesn't even flinch.

"No," he growls, slapping your wrist. Staring at him with a look of bafflement, a blush adorns your cheeks as you realise you rather like aggressive Sal, lids lowering to a half-open state as you stare up at him, awaiting his next move. Off-handedly, the Joker takes your hair in his grasp and thrusts himself into your mouth. You would have gasped had your mouth not been full and it's with increasingly heated breaths that you realise he isn't even letting you adjust. Perhaps some would find it brutal... but not you. You need this treatment - otherwise sex doesn't work.

Letting him fuck your mouth with pride, you sink to your knees (him moving with you as you slip from the couch to the floor) and slide a hand down your front to tend to yourself.

"Don't youdare."

Pausing, a tiny sound akin to a complaint passes your lips. Sal is through with you teasing him in such a way... as far as he's concerned, this is the price to pay for doing this to him, for putting him through what could have ultimately been an embarrassing endeavour. He regards your stuffed face with a cool gaze, the only sign that he's turned on at all being the way he bites his lower lip as he watches you, brow furrowing with concentration as he works on not cumming too soon. Sal wants to drag this out, after all.

"Please...?" Your voice is muffled by his throbbing erection sliding in and out of your wet mouth but the heat in his eyes gives him away as he stares and watches you. There's a period of defiant silence in which he says nothing, just watches... before he sighs - as if you're being petulant, and goddamn it that makes you want it more - and gestures to between your legs.

"Touch yourself for me."

You don't need to be told twice. Your fingers slip between wet folds and find the bundle of nerves that's going to be your undoing. A flicker of satisfaction crosses his face though it's short-lived as he resumes his dominant position, his hips still bucking into your warm mouth. As you slide your index finger over your clit, practically drooling at the feeling of pleasure mounting daggers into your spine, his motions become slightly more sporadic, breath heaving as he pulls away and forces you back by mounting you as he had before.

You cry out in surprise, then whine at the feeling of pleasure being cut off as your hands move from your sensitive spot to cushion your fall– but he's upon you in an instant, two of his own fingers being shoved into your mouth, forcing you to wet them, before he slides them into you and begins moving them at a breakneck pace, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and the hot blush covering your cheeks turns redder.

"You like that?" The Joker coaxes in a harsh tone, breathless voice still carrying assertion, a feeling of hot satisfaction welling in his gut as you nod uselessly. "You want more, baby...?" And again with the nodding and he's relentless as his thumb comes to push against your clit, making you all butscream his name as the tension builds and– you're so close. "I'll tell you something, [Y/N]. I'm going to fuck you so hard the only thing you'll remember is my name."

And as simple, and as complicated, as that, you feel him enter you with a roughness foreign to the sensitive man. Immediately, you feel relief - no longer are you empty, no longer are you aching for him, because he's here and he's full and he's so good–

"S–Sal, I-I–"

Forming words is as impossible as turning your emotions off at this point and he acknowledges this with a tight-lipped smirk, mouth catching your ear and hot, dirty syllables being spoken in a tone no louder than a whisper.

"Cum for me, [Y/N]– tell me how good it feels; fucking scream it–"

You're unravelling before he's even finished, orgasm hot and heavy and so intense you see blinding shapes form before your eyes as they roll back and a wail of his name passes your lips, a string of 'oh fuck!'s leaving you as you repay him in kind, lascivious phrases of how amazing he feels and how astoundingly you've been fucked meeting his ears and causing him to grunt.

Sal isn't far after you, hot load hitting your insides with force that makes you keen and scrape your nails down his back, leaving marks you know won't fade for a while; and that's okay, for he's yours and you're his and if anybody tries to deny that then they're sorely mistaken. Countless pants of 'Sal, Sal, Sal...' leave you as both ride out your highs together, him still moving in you long after the pair of you have finished.

Finally, he slows and stops, like a jutting train reaching the platform, but the feeling of him still inside you brings a tidal wave of emotion crashing into you as you take his face in your hands and kiss him deeply, tongues meshing heatedly together as hands trail desperately over faces and fingers entangle themselves in hair. You're both sprawled on the floor, Sal's weight atop you the constant reminder that you're not alone and, as long as he is there, never will be.

"Oh, [Y/N]...," heaves Sal, finally managing to muster the strength to move off of you and lay beside you on the ground, chest rising and falling almost as quickly as he had been moving mere moments ago. You lay there in a daze, everything seeming brighter whilst you try to string a coherent sentence together. "...holy shit..."

All you can bring yourself to do is blink and nod because holy shit indeed.