NSFW DJCom Fics

Gargoyle & Ghost

Being a ghost and all means you don't get much action for a few hundred years. Maybe some decades. Or an eternity.

And Ghost DJ was sick of it.

Sure, being a ghost had its perks: you looked sick as hell, you had perfect opportunities to scare the shit out of the living, and you didn't need to worry about any of that bullshit living beings had to deal with. Yet, alongside pros came cons. And DJ's main con was borderline impossible to remedy, especially being a ghost and all.

To put it bluntly: Ghost DJ has been absolutely aching to stick his dick in something for eons. He was downright sick of being so lonely, craving the action and heat that sex usually brought.

He thought he'd never come across the opportunity to get his dick wet. Until the opportunity quite literally dropped from the heavens and fell right onto his lap in the form of a fat gargoyle.

Ghost DJ blinked a few times, eyes wide behind his shades and fingers twitching against the grass in shock. He was knocked right on his back, so he was able to properly examine who exactly landed on him.

He recognized the monster as the leader of those tough looking gargoyles he saw flying around occasionally. What an honor it was to be in the presence of such a powerful being! His friends would not believe the predicament he was in right now if he told them. A powerful, ever feared leader planted right on his crotch, legs spread and locking DJ in place by the hips, looking as frazzled as ever.

Was this a blessing in disguise?

The gargoyle commander fixed his shades and immediately glared down at who he landed on. "Who are you?" He spat, wings expanded to its full length (which, uh, was pretty damn scary).

Ghost DJ could hardly focus on anything but the weight against his clothed dick. He knew that made him a massive perv, but he genuinely couldn't help it. No contact for years did that to someone. "Uh, DJ. Ghost DJ. My name—" He stumbled over his words with a slight groan. "And you?" He shot the gargoyle a sly grin, a poor attempt to shield his obvious arousal.

"Commander."

Short and sweet. He liked that.

"Why'd you...just fall from the sky?" It took a lot for DJ to not rut up against the shockingly soft weight against him (really, he thought Commander would feel harder than what he actually was...being a gargoyle and all). Without thinking, DJ put a hand on Commander, not really intending on getting a reaction, but quickly retracted it the very moment he heard a sharp gasp. "S-Sorry!" Ghost DJ yelped, worried he had touched an injured area. He did just fall from an unknown height, you dumbass! He could be hurt!

However, instead of snapping at DJ, the beast just wriggled a bit, pushing his ass harder against the ghost's crotch. The ghost sucked in a breath and winced. Ghost DJ saw his tail begin to sway in a mesmerizing side-to-side rhythm. It was oddly reminiscent of a cat ready to pounce. "You," Gargoyle Commander bellowed.

"Me?"

"Yes, you." He dug his claws into DJ's front. It didn't hurt, as DJ was, you know, a ghost, but it was intimidating nonetheless. "I have an issue that needs resolving, and you appear to be fit for the job."

The hell did he mean by that?

Another shift made DJ gulp. Aw, fuck. He was hard. He coughed a bit, eyes flitting away with a blue blush covering his cheeks and nose. "U-Uhm. Well you didn't answer my question yet," he mumbled.

The gargoyle growled. A primal, hungry growl. "Listen, I'm not here for a conversation. Long story short, I'm having a tough time right now. I need..." His confidence easily wavered, embarrassment suddenly coating his face and mannerisms. "I need you to..." Ghost DJ cocked a brow. "M...Mate me."