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draconic-desire · 2 months

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🔹 Oculus Infinitum 🔹

Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

He’s infinity; in comparison, you’re nothing. So of course using your cursed technique on him backfires.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, nsfw, non-con/dub-con, afab!reader, slight mindbreak

Infinity is often interpreted as the largest numerical magnitude to exist. And while that fact may be true in theory, infinity is better defined as the endless division of infinitesimally smaller and smaller values. One can be separated into half, half to a quarter, and so on, until the space between fractions almost ceases to exist.

Almost.

Gojo is a lot like infinity. Blame it on his technique, sure, but you suspect it runs much deeper than that. His actions never reach an end; instead, each one sinks further and further into your skin, fangs so small you barely feel them until it’s too late and the venom irreversibly invades your veins. He’s chipped away at you, piece by little piece, until you are the opposite of infinity; you are nothing.

On a surface level, most would say you have it pretty good. You (are trapped in) live in a huge home, filled with opulent furniture and all the luxuries you could ever want. You’re (expected to) allowed to cook meals for the two of you, including your favorite dishes. You still have (basic rights) privileges, such as free roam of the house, your own selection of clothes, access to the television and your phone (minus the ability to call or text, of course), even outdoor time with Satoru’s supervision. Why would you ever need to leave?

You had escaped, once.

Calling it an escape would be generous. Nothing ever happens without Gojo’s knowledge, without Gojo’s permission. How foolish you had been, to think you could evade his Six Eyes. Despite weeks of planning, he’d dragged you back home within the hour.

The chains hadn’t been removed for an entire month after that, and their lingering presence on each post of Satoru’s bed serves as a constant reminder that they’ll never rust.

Currently, you’re in the (not your, nothing is ever truly yours anymore) house’s lofty kitchen now, preparing dinner for his return home from work. Glancing up at the clock, you see it’s nearly time for him to arrive. You click the stovetop on and place a pot of water over the open flame, watching the blue fire flicker. Your thoughts immediately go to Gojo’s eyes, twin infernos of endless blue. Those eyes never seem to close, never seem to be too far from your own. They have the ability to lock you in place and throw away the key forever.

Moments later, the sound of the door opening and closing, along with the click of multiple locks, echoes from the hallway. Long, casual footsteps alert you to his presence behind you. His velvet voice, so languid and carefree, fans your ear as he settles his hands on your hips. “There’s my girl. Already making dinner for me?” He places a surprisingly chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Missed ya, baby.”

You add rice and a bit of salt and stir the pot in front of you in silence. When did you stop fighting him on that? On losing your full name to simple titles like girl and baby? The old you would have gagged at those pet names. The old you that kicked and bit the hand of your captor like a rabid animal, always fighting for freedom.

His grip tightens when you fail to immediately respond, though you hear him force a light tone to his voice. “What, curse got your tongue?”

Tension immediately floods your muscles. Gojo is a vain man; your silence maims his huge ego, something the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer will not stand for. You must react. “No, Gojo. I was just lost in thought, is all.”

You worry your lip when the quiet drags on. “I-I’m sorry?”

Gojo barks out a laugh, but his smile is strained and all fangs. “Back to Gojo again, huh?”

A mistake you notice too late. The spoon falls from your grip as you turn your head slowly. He’s still wearing his blindfold, but you know those infinite abyssal eyes are currently boring into your soul, daring you to speak. “Ah, no! Satoru, I mean—”

“Shh, baby. I get it.” His hands move to your shoulders, which he begins to massage. “Is it because you’re mad at me for neglecting you?”

To an outsider it may sound like he’s teasing, but you know all too well the creep of annoyance laced into his deepened, husky tone. “Or are you just being a brat?”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his toned forearm in an attempt to calm him. You feel him practically melt into the touch. “Truly, ‘Toru, I’m fine.” Your honeyed tone makes you sick, but you’ve learned it can subtly manipulate your captor in the right setting, usually this domestic fantasy world of his. “You’ve been so busy with work, and my mind has just been wandering. Why don’t you go sit while I finish up with the food?”

He hums absentmindedly, fingers swirling patterns across your abdomen. “I have a better idea…” Hot breath caresses your ear, eliciting a shiver. “Let me make it up to you.”

A deft hand snakes its way down the back of your bare thigh, barely ghosting across your skin. You can feel him, solid as a rock, yet you know there will always be space between you. He can touch you, but you’re powerless to do the same.

Just like in everything else, you can’t hold a candle to him. Your cursed energy is inconsequential, a tiny spark against his infinitive well of power.

Talk of your innate cursed ability is a topic you actively choose to avoid. Your technique, when activated, allows you to briefly control the thoughts and consequent actions of a single individual—but only after you’ve kissed them. And it often backfires tremendously, with the kiss causing overwhelming feelings of obsession or insanity in the receiver. From more than enough uses you’ve learned to see it as more of a curse in and of itself, and one you prefer to keep hidden.

Especially from the man behind you. Gojo—Satoru, you correct yourself—has enough twisted love that you wouldn’t dare try to possess his thoughts. The mere idea makes your throat tighten with panic.

Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, causes every nerve ending along your skin to explode as his hand falls beneath your skirt and skate across your barely clothed core.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he groans. “Are you wet for me, baby?” Before you can respond, Satoru easily moves your panties aside and spears you with his middle and ring fingers.

The invasion makes you jolt instantly. An involuntary gasp leaves you as he presses deeper, his fingers sheathed to the knuckle. You hate how your walls immediately tighten around him, slick with your arousal. No, you don’t want this, but Gojo gives you no choice in the matter but to practically ride his hand as he lifts your skirt with his other hand to get a better view.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” His thumb passes over your clit, pulling yet another shameful moan from your lips. Your tense demeanor only causes your pussy to accidentally squeeze him tighter, spurring him on. You try to pull your thighs together, but Satoru wrenches them apart easily with his other hand. “Oh, no, none of that. This pussy is mine.”

You squirm, grasping for something to get you out of this mess. “Satoru, stop, the food will burn—”

“Forget it,” he commands, ripping your skirt off. “We’ll order takeout after.”

Your heart drops. “After…?”

“Aw, you thought I’d stop here?” His condescension floods your ears. “No, babe, I’m only just getting started with you.”

His persistence, like infinity, has no end.

Without warning, Satoru removes his fingers from your core and swings you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass and wrenching a yelp from you. You blanch when you realize he’s carrying you to the bedroom.

“Wait, Satoru—!”

You are unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, said white-haired sorcerer towering above you. He pounces immediately, locking your limbs in place. Satoru must see the fear, the readiness to engage in fight or flight, across your face, because he brushes a tender hand across your cheek to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teases, but it somehow sounds like a threat. His fingers, still coated with your arousal, hook around your thong and slide it down your legs. “You’re acting like this is our first time or somethin'.”

Oh, it was far from the first time that he had touched you or been inside of you. But something about today, about this time, sends fear skittering across your whole being. Perhaps it’s all the reminiscence lately, or the fact that your thoughts drifted to your innate technique for the first time in weeks. Panic sinks its claws into you.

Breath ragged, heart pounding, you grab his face in both hands and react without thinking; for the first time since he kidnapped you, you willingly kiss Satoru Gojo and activate your technique.

Satoru immediately reacts, deepening the kiss and pressing you more firmly into the mattress until you feel as if you’re nearly suffocating.

Release me, you project into his mind, threading a hand through his white locks and squeezing hard.

The world suddenly goes very, very still.

Satoru freezes. Slowly, painfully, he parts his lips from your own and straightens his arms against the mattress to hover above you once more. His breath comes out in jagged huffs. The only sound that remains is the unending tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, bringing you closer to your doom.

For a second, you almost believe your technique worked.

That is, until he quickly sheds his blindfold, and you are meet with those stunning, terrifying, brilliant, paralyzing blues. He whispers your name with a foreign stillness that chills your bones to ice. “Do you…have a cursed technique?”

What an idiot you are to have thought you could sneak past Satoru Gojo’s barriers and Six Eyes. You can’t touch his physical form; why would his mind be any different?

It takes all of your willpower to withhold the panicked, hysterical laugh threatening to escape you. “Look, I can explain—”

Satoru leans back on his knees, one hand carding through his hair as he looks up to the ceiling. “God, babe, I knew you could see curses and harbored cursed energy, but here you go surprising me!” He laughs, a gleeful chuckle that has you reeling.

“You’re not…mad?” you dare to ask, inching your knees towards your chest. Maybe your technique failed, but you can still buy some time and get into a safer position.

Satoru gazes down at you, head tilted and a full grin on his lips. “Mad? Baby, why would I be upset when for the first time in our relationship, you were the one seducing me?”

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Grabbing your ankle, he drags you back to a supine position, your pussy on full display for him. He licks his lips at the sight. “Plus, you trying to get inside my head was cute and all. Weak, but you gave it your best!” He laughs again, and you realize that he never took you seriously, not even for a second.

The thought should enrage you—it would have infuriated the old you—but all you can manage now is a low whine as his hands go for his belt.

Satoru pulls himself free, his already hard cock pulsing in anticipation. Precum beads at the tip as he lines himself up with your entrance. “What was it you asked me for? Release, right?”

Your eyes bulge at his implication. “Wait, Satoru, I didn’t mean—!”

You barely have time to react as he buries himself in you completely. A choked sob bubbles up your throat as you breath through the stretch of him.

Satoru moans in ecstasy as he begins a steady pace, thrusting mercilessly into that squishy spot deep inside your core that has you seeing stars.

“Kiss me again.” It’s light and breathless, but it’s an order, not a request. Fear makes you comply immediately, though your kiss is a hesitant, timid thing compared to your earlier attempt to sway him.

He’s having none of that. No, Satoru had a taste of your affection, and now he’ll tolerate nothing less than your full reciprocation. If only you could truly peer into his mind and see that no amount of your cursed energy would change him; your being was already permanently imprinted on his brain. You were his perfect doll, held in the palm of his hand.

Nails rake down his back as you arch against the mattress. Every time he thrusts, he grinds against your clit, and you feel yourself chasing your finish. You hate this, you want it to stop, but you can’t help—

“Please, Satoru,” you plead without thinking, meeting his limitless eyes. You feel yourself drowning in them, a blue sky that never ceases.

For a split second, his rhythm hesitates. “…Say that again,” he whispers, almost reverently. “Beg for me.”

You’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. “P-please, I can’t take it anymore, please let me—!”

“Choose your next word carefully,” he warns, voice shifting to a low growl as his hand moves to your throat, adding ever so much pressure.

Tears streak your vision. The embarrassment of your technique failing and the lewd position he has you in all crash down upon you, and another piece of you breaks. “Please let me cum,” you concede.

To your dismay, his pace slows, and you cry out in protest as your orgasm fades. “I just need you to do one more thing for me, baby.” He leans into your neck, nipping and sucking at all your sensitive spots, torturing you even further. “Tell me you love me.”

Alarms should be blazing through your head, but the fog of your arousal clouds your judgement as you seek your climax.

That piece of your soul he took shatters into a million shards as you whisper, “I love you, Satoru.”

The two of you shatter simultaneously. You register all too late the warmth invading your core as Satoru pumps his cum deep inside you.

He’s never come in you before.

Your name is murmured over and over like a prayer against your neck—or maybe it’s a curse. You jolt in overstimulation when he pulls out and bends down to place a kiss against your puffy folds. “So good for me, baby. This perfect pussy belongs to me.”

He kisses you a final time, long and slow. When he pulls away, a languid smile sweeps across his features. “You’re all mine, (Y/n). Even your mind.”

With the use of your innate technique, you’ve dug your own grave for good. Satoru will never let you go now.

After all, infinity is indivisible.

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talaok · 21 days

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But Daddy I Love Him

summary: You and Joel shouldn't be together. According to the people in Jackson, he's a bad, cruel, crazy man, and yet... he's all you ever wanted.

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), angst, blood, physical fight (?), happy ending (cause of course)

a/n: ive been obsessed with this song since it came out, please just go listen to it

Now I'm runnin' with my dress unbuttoned Screamin', "But, Daddy, I love him I'm havin' his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm tellin' him to floor it through the fences No, I'm not coming to my senses I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want

— — —

"fuck"

"god"

His breath, his hands, his beard, his mouth, his cock

Him

He was all you could feel, he was all that existed,

nothing but him and his intoxicating aura, his manly mist, his sweaty body his strong arms,

Him

Joel Miller

The man you should not want, the man you should be terrified of, that you should run and hide from,

the terrible, crazy, Joel Miller

The same one everyone told you to stay away from, your friends, your family, strangers, the entirety of Jackson

And yet he was the only man you ever really wanted, really needed.

"I missed you so much"

Even your own voice was nothing, it was a phantom of something that existed long ago, something that stopped living every time he was near, every time he would make everything dissipate into thin air with just his presence.

"I missed you too baby girl" he grunted,

oh how he grunts, how he groans, how he moans

nobody does it like him

"missed you so fucking much darlin'"

His voice felt like a prayer, like a sweet invocation to the sky up above, to whomever would listen,

one that countered completely what he was doing, the nothing but sinful way he had you up against the wall, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust his cock in and out of you so fast you might just break.

The bed was right beside you, but that didn't matter, that's how you were

You and Joel,

like animals, like soulmates, like desperate, desperate lovers

Your minds didn't work the same when you were near, they didn't work at all, one could argue

But isn't that was love is after all?

"oh my god" you moaned, hiding your head in the crook of his neck as one particular deep thrust made you see stars

"I know darlin'" he cooed, only going faster, deeper "I know"

"Joel" you cried, biting down on his skin "f-fuck"

It had only been two weeks since you last saw each other, but it might as well been decades.

They had sent him away.

Nobody liked him in Jackson, not once they'd learned his story, the terrible things he'd done

And when they found out about you... not even his own brother could protect him.

So they'd exiled him.

But they couldn't keep him away forever, not when he had something to come back for.

"god fuckin' damnit babygirl- you feel so fuckin' good"

Your moans only got higher, your nails clinging to his back like a rabid cat.

"perfect lil' pussy" he growled, his hot breath on your sweaty neck pulling shivers from your body "Perfect fuckin' girl"

"oh fuck" you whined, tightening your legs' hold onto his waist

"you feel so good too Joel" you promised, breathing heavily in synch with him "You and your perfect cock"

He groaned so loud he sounded like an animal

"might want to keep that pretty mouth shut if you want this to last, sugar"

You didn't know where you found the strength to laugh, but you did

"you're gonna come too soon, old man?"

His hold on your waist pulled you even closer, as you raised your head to look him in the eyes

God, he was handsome

"just might, if you keep saying stuff like that"

but before you could tell him how it wasn't fair, how he did it all the time and you couldn't do it even once, his thumb was on your clit and your eyes were to the back of your head.

"no" he stopped you before you could hide your face from him again "I want to see you"

And as warmth filled your chest and your forehead fell to his and pressure built in your belly, he murmured:

"good girl- come for me, just like that- Jesus Christ-"

And so you did,

You came and moaned and cried, and it didn't take much before he was doing the same, pumping you full of him until he'd given you every single drop.

And then you kissed, he kissed you slowly and gently and in the same exact way that made you fall for him the very first time.

"god I missed you so much" he breathed once you leaned away

A smile from ear to ear took over your face and all you could do was kiss him again

"me too baby" you murmured, as he helped you to your feet

You both smiled like silly idiots as you dressed again,

but neither of you could resist being in each other's arms, so you didn't.

He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head once you rested it on his still bare chest.

You didn't get how anyone could hate him,

You swore they wouldn't, they wouldn't if they only got to meet him, the real him, not the idea of him they had painted in their minds.

And so you hummed, breathing him in, clinging to him as he clung to you

Up until the very moment it all went to shit

Again.

"hey honey I just got back I-"

It was sad really, the fact you'd seen this scene before.

The disappointment in your dad's eyes, the fear turning into primal rage inside his iris, his fists tightening, Joel taking a step back

A deja-vu had never felt quite so devastating

"Arthur" Joel tried to speak, but your dad was already on him, his fist had already connected with his cheek

"What did I tell you!?" another punch "Last time was just a fucking warning!" and another

Joel was on the ground

He wasn't going to fight back.

This wasn't how he wanted to handle things

Not this time

Not with you

"I'll kill you this time you fucking disgusting pervert!" you swore you heard Joel's cheekbone crack with another hit "How dare you!?" your dad growled, Joel's bloody face beneath him "In my own home- how dare you take advantage of my daughter you fucking- pig!"

Your eyes were overflowing with tears, the top buttons of your dress were still unbuttoned, and Joel's chest was rising and falling too slowly, much too slowly

"dad"

But he kept going

"dad stop!"

you grabbed his wrist, and the moment his eyes met yours it felt like the word stopped, like it had frozen over.

You caused all that anger, all that pain

But if he just would listen to you...

"y/n"

"dad" your voice trembled as much as your fingers "dad I love him"

You saw his heart break. For all the wrong reasons,

for his poor daughter who was taken advantage of, for the naive, innocent daughter he couldn't protect. For the daughter that didn't exist. Because that wasn't you, that wasn't how things had gone.

"you don't know what you're saying"

His voice was harsh, cruel, cold.

"But I do!" tears ran down your cheeks as you glanced down to where Joel lay, to the cuts and blood coating his face "I love him dad, I really really do"

"You don't know who this man is" he said "The things he's done..." he said with a snarl, as if disgusted, as if the rage was surging from his chest all over again

"I know" you whispered "I know everything- He told me all of it dad, please" you begged "Please just let him go, let him talk"

"I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of this fucker's mouth"

"but dad-"

It was like a bomb went off

"HE'S 56!" he yelled, his grip on Joel's neck tightening "he's fifty fucking six y/n! You just fucking turned 21!" his voice bounced off the walls like thunder, "You're not even half his age!"

"who cares!?" you screamed too now, only your voice was interrupted by sobs

"I DO!" he roared "Your mom would!" his eyes were wide with urgency, and although he was mad you could still hear the care behind his words "He might have made you think this is ok, that he loves you, but trust me none of it is true" he sighed "He's using you honey, I know it's hard to understand right now, but you- you're young- you don't know-"

Your hand left him, shaking as it went to wipe your tears.

"dad" you said more firmly now "I might be young but I'm not stupid"

"y/n-"

"no" you stopped him "Dad this is the first time I've ever felt this way, like I cannot breathe when he's not close, like I need him more than I need air" you swallowed thickly "And I know- I know it's hard to understand, I know it's easier to just go with the narrative in your head, of the fragile little girl and the big creepy guy, but this-" you took a shaky breath as you glanced at Joel again

His eyes were barely open, he was barely conscious

"This isn't like that" you promised "I- I love him, and he loves me"

"Honey-"

"I'm not done" you stopped him again "I'll never forgive you dad" you shook your head, simply stating the truth "I'll never forgive you if you do this, if you don't even give him a chance to explain, to tell you how things really are"

You saw the conflict in his eyes, the searing pain caused him to hear such words from his daughter, to hear her beg and threaten and speak up all at once,

and yet... yet he couldn't shake off the honesty, the hope lacing your words, your voice, sparkling from your eyes

And so he did the only thing he could,

he agreed, he agreed to hear the full story.

___

That was two years ago now,

and sometimes you wondered if it all was just a bad dream, if your imagination had tricked you into believing some silly made-up story,

but the glares from the people in town always seemed to refresh your memory.

And yes, maybe you would have liked to live a life without people whispering ugly things about you behind your back every day... but then maybe, maybe it was all worth it

For this.

For the child growing in your belly, for the veil on top of your head, for the sound of your dad stifling his sobs beside you,

for the image of Joel waiting for you at the end of the aisle, for the tears in his eyes, for the smile on his face,

for him,

for you,

It was all worth it,

Yes, yes it definitely was.

— — —

Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn't it give some perspective? And, no, you can't come to the wedding I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #joel miller x fem reader #but daddy i love him #taylor swift

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jvzebel-x · 1 year

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🦋

#maybe its the holidays having a negative effect on my psyche (or maybe the psychic damage being directed toward me #from various sources due to the season has finally hit lmao)#but i am feeling particularly foul today&have given up on trying to get past it for the night lol.#like i guess it didnt help that the day started w/ a doc who spent the entire apt talking to me in heavy sighs #as tho my many degenerative physical&subsequent mental health issues are a massive inconvenience to him lmao #but also my custom fucking harley davidson jacket was just stolen&i am extremely upset about it lol.#&like i am feeling particularly fucking angry at the fact that i officially own NOTHING objectively Nice #that i did not have to MAKE appealing or valuable-appearing myself.#the last few years have seen my camera laptop guitar and every console i had worth decent money either sold or stolen.#i have not owned a cellphone in years that didnt come sold as a burner from walmart.#i went so long w/o glasses that it took months to reorient myself so i didnt walk into walls.#i am feeling extremely incapable of being grateful right now&am trying desperately not to start foaming at the mouth #like a rabid animal but i gotta be real honest this shit is getting TOUGH&the next person unfortunate enough to tempt me #into ripping their throat out w/ my teeth will def regret it lmao.#i need some sugar&some sleep but i Want a large dose of adrenaline lol #ive never been super into hurting mySELF at all. my favoured form of self harm has always been #putting myself in intensely dangerous situations lmao.#so instead of going out looking for trouble i am going to smoke roughly two grams of wax #&kill the violence+bitterness churning in me right now lmao.

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inkskinned · 6 months

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you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

#spilled ink #writeblr #warm up #the reason i tag warm up on so much is bc often i write them between me doing other things so im mostly telling myself to come back and edi #bc i rarely have time to check for typos lol #this is partially about compulsory heterosexuality btw #and why it took me so long to realize im a lesbian #i just assumed sex wasn't really supposed to be that good #been reading feminist lit and u can always tell

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mooshywrites · 4 months

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Bedtime Stories

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight

Word count - 3.3K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, fingering, dirty talk, size difference, vaginal penetration, cream pie, established relationship, smut with plot, minor spoilers, mentions of past violence

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“And that’s when I knew I was a goner.” Halsin said, his voice low and serious. You stifled a giggle, worried it would pierce right through the tense air. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the expansive silence.

”What happened next?” A tiny voice whispered from the semi circle before Halsin. It came from a tiny tiefling girl, one that was hanging on every single word of the Druid’s story.

It was adorable watching them, watching your love tell tales to the children you were charged with taking care of. He was rather animated in his stories, hushed voices and sweeping gestures, speaking of beasts and demons and giant brains touched down to earth to take over the land.

The kids ate the stories up. Listened to him as if it were the last story they would ever hear. Each one of them could throw quite the impressive fit in the evening, demanding that Halsin talk them to sleep. He always gave in, sometimes having to make something up on the spot. You would think that with as long as he’s been alive, he would have plenty of stories to tell, but you knew all too well that most of those stories couldn’t be told to little ears.

You loved the evenings, though. Loved watching the gentle giant try his best to calm the terrifying horde of children. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you looked over the kids. Most of them had the same story. Lost and forgotten children, victims of the horror that occurred a few months earlier.

Only a few of them had actually told you what happened to them, but it was more or less consistent. Their parents had been killed, turned, or were simply missing in the fight against The Absolute. You didn’t know during the journey itself how many villages had been affected by the cult, but each one of these cubs were a testament to how deep the violence ran.

You could still remember the look on Halsin’s face when you came across a tiefling orphan in the streets of lower Baldur’s Gate. There they were, standing over their parents' bodies. The two older tiefling had been unfortunate murders dedicated to the god of murder himself, Bhaal. The Druid’s face hardened, his words harsh as he wondered how many children had been affected in a similar way

That little tiefling was one of the first that Halsin scooped up to rescue.

Since then, you acquired quite the group of wayward souls. What was it that Halsin said? Right, nine wagons full of the little angels. At first you had been completely overwhelmed at the thought of so many little mouths to feed, little minds to grow, little hearts to mend. But Halsin took it all on the chin, always seeming to know exactly what to say or do.

Yet, the panicked look he’s giving you right now? Maybe your bear wasn’t equipped to handle all of what the children required.

“Then…” You started, beginning to move around the semi circle of kids, your voice sinister and low.

The kids' attention turned to you, eyes wide and expecting. You could’ve laughed at how intensely they were staring, but you knew you had quite the show to put on if you didn’t want to be mauled by a pack of rabid cubs.

”Then Halsin stalked around the cave, trying his best to appease the Mother Owlbear. He knew with one wrong step…” You paused for a dramatic moment, making eye contact with as many of them as you could, “And he would be swallowed up in one gulp.”

You heard Halsin scoff and ignored it, seeing the reaction ripple through your tiny audience.

”How would the owl bear even eat Daddy Halsin!” A particularly brave kid questioned.

A valid question. My spur of the moment storytelling probably wouldn’t withstand professional attention to plot holes

”Well, because,” You pondered, standing up straight again. “The owl bear was the biggest one we’ve ever seen. Just one of its claws was bigger than any one of you little cubs.”

One of the kids, a pale ginger half elf, stifled a shriek. She clung to her brother who was putting on a very good show of bravery, though he was a shade paler than usual.

Note to self - Less scary, more story

”If you want to know how Daddy Halsin escaped, you all have to be good and get some sleep.” You ended, putting on a warm smile.

Groans echoed around you, the kids obviously not happy with the cliffhanger in their bedtime story.

“Aht, ah, ah, lovelies. Bad kids who don’t listen to Miss Daddy Halsin get eaten by giant owl bears.”

That seemed to do the trick, the children scrambling over themselves to crawl into their bedrolls. Halsin had let them choose where to put their beds, most choosing to sleep in the equivalent of a pile in the corner of the grove. A few slept a few feet away, but the proximity to your quarters seemed to keep all of their mind’s at ease.

You smiled as Halsin came bumbling toward you, a tired smile gracing his features, “You’re always better at getting them to bed than I am, my heart.” He muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You leaned into the touch, his large hand warming the small of your back.

”What can I say, terrorizing kids is my specialty.” You teased, looking over the bundles of furs. You hadn’t realized how heavy your shoulders felt until now, how hard it was to keep your eyes open.

Ever perceptive, Halsin knew how exhausted you were as soon as you did. He chuckled softly and let you go, “Go on to bed, sweet. I will kiss foreheads.”

Any other day, you might’ve argued. Kissing everyone goodnight was one of your favorite parts of the night. But you were tired, and, well… there were a lot of foreheads.

You padded towards the large stone door, making your way to the room you and Halsin shared. When the children first arrived, it made you nervous to think of them out in the open, separated by a thick slab of rock. Practically no sound got past the opening, after all. Halsin kissed away your worries, assuring you there were a plethora of animals who would keep careful watch over them. Half of which were even nocturnal.

Without any worries, and a slight feeling of fatigue in your bones the sight of your bed was a beautiful, beautiful scene. You sat on the edge of the bed, idly running your hands across the deep set carvings etched into the wood. It had taken weeks to convince Halsin to make you a bed frame, even longer to convince him to actually sleep on the bed and not the ground. After enough pleading and many a kiss, he finally completed the process, even detailing the wood with his whittling tools.

It didn’t seem long before Halsin appeared in the wide doorway, expression light. “Those little ones will surely be the death of me.”

”I’ve heard it said that being around children makes you feel young again.” You mused, tucking your legs under the thin blankets.

“Whoever says that is a fraud. They only make me feel much, much older.” He laughed, coming over to sit at your feet. “They love your stories, my heart. Perhaps you should be in charge of that for now.”

”No, I simply couldn’t.” You said decisively, shaking your head for good measure.

“And why not?” Halsin asked incredulously, hands coming up to rub your feet. You knew that his movements were a thinly veiled attempt at bribery, but you wouldn’t be weak enough to fall for it this time.

”They like your stories more.” You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the massage. “I like your stories more as well.”

”It’s difficult to tell stories with you around.” He said quietly, eyes trained on you. You met his gaze, seeing a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smile never meant anything good.

“What do you mean?” You asked simply, feigning ignorance. You could try to ignore the way his hands moved higher up to your calf, but you knew that focus would be short lived. No, if the Druid wanted your attention, he would have to earn it.

“I mean… How am I supposed to be present enough to tell a story when nature’s most beautiful creation herself is standing mere feet away from me?” His voice was a half a note lower than usual, barely perceptible if it were anyone but the man you loved.

”You flatter me.” You whisper, not trusting your voice to hide the way heat began crawling its way through your stomach.

Halsin leaned in, pressing a kiss against your jaw. His words tickled your skin, warm breath brushing over your ear as he spoke, “Oak Father, preserve me, how am I supposed to focus on anything when your sweet scent washes over me at even your nearness?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind already becoming fogged with clouds of desire. “Maybe you are just less skilled at focusing than I am.” You responded.

He pulled back for a moment, still smiling grinning. “You think you can get through a story while being distracted?” He prodded

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You knew the feeling that crawled through the back of your mind. It was the same one you had when you knew you were about to walk face first into a trap. One you just couldn’t place, exactly.

“I suppose so.” You countered, arms coming up to cross in front of you. “What story would you like to hear?”

”Hmm.” He thought aloud, pausing for a moment. You found your gaze fawning over him during the brief break, appreciating the way his shoulders flexed, his hands never pausing the foot rub. “Tell me the story of how we first met.”

”That’s it? What’s the catch?” You inquired suspiciously

“Catch? Why would there be a catch, my heart?” His expression screamed ‘innocent’ but your intuition screamed ‘SCHEMER’

“Fine. I’ll tell you how we met without getting distracted.” You started, leaning back against the wall. “I had heard you had gotten captured at the goblin camp. A very intelligent move by th-“

You faltered slightly as Halsin leaned back forward, lips brushing over your collarbone. You could practically feel him smirk against you, words muffled slightly, “Why did you stop? Distracted already?”

You felt a surge of defiance, a deep sense of determination against his taunting. It didn't matter how flushed your cheeks felt at the current moment, you would be getting through this story.

You would be the one to win.

Your voice continued on, a bit shakier than before, “So I decided I needed to break you out.”

Halsin’s lips continue to mold against your skin, peppering slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “I asked around quite a bit about you, but no one seemed to know exactly where you were.”

You caught another gasp as Halsin’s hands wrapped around the small of your back, toying with the ties of your bodice.

No. Focus.

”When I realized I would either need to break or sneak into the goblin camp, I also realized I was much too weak for either.”

“Mnm” Halsin responded, signaling you on.

Only, it was difficult to continue on. You felt the ribbon of your dress completely loosened, the delicious warmth of the Druid’s hands against your bare back. You swallowed thickly, trying your best to ignore the feeling.

“I needed to get stronger, so I could save the helpless first Druid,” You muttered, annoyance obviously present as you tried your best to keep your thoughts straight.

”Oh, my heart.” Halsin murmured, deftly pushing the fabric off of your shoulders and down to your waist. You shivered slightly, feeling your nipples pebble through the material of your underclothes. Halsin’s attention went straight towards the raised mounds, a strange sort of irreverent glint in his eyes. He looked back up at you, smiling softly. “You don’t know the meaning of helpless.”

With that, his mouth dipped down, catching a clothed breast in a gentle nip. You had to grate your teeth tightly to avoid the moan caught in your throat, thoughts holding on to your “story” by the thinnest of threads.

”Given up?” Halsin whispered again, a rough palm coming up to cup the other breast, kneading so lightly you might’ve been imagining it.

“No!” You snapped, eyebrows coming together as you mustered all the focus you could manage. ”When I finally found you, I never thought you’d be a-“

You couldn’t help the whimper that took over your sentence as Halsin dragged a thick finger over your clothed core. Your mind short circuited, wetness gathering almost immediately at a simple touch.

You knew, deep down, that Halsin had won. That it was hopeless to think you could’ve ignored his… distractions… in the first place. How were you supposed to ignore the way his mouth skillfully worked in tandem with his hand, the way his free hand had snuck up to render you speechless?

The only response the elf gave you was a low chuckle, his gentle touch beginning to rub circles around your heat devilishly slow. The sly cur, he wouldn’t even take the satisfaction of bragging of his win.

No, instead, he would just continue to see you undone by his hand.

”You're a cheater.” You whimpered quietly, finally giving up the game.

”And you, my heart,” He murmured, shifting in the bed slightly, “Are a sore loser.”

“Just… just touch me.” You responded, refusing to give him any more defiance than he already had broken in you.

Your druid was ever so gentle as he removed the rest of your clothes, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as the fabric slid off. Every touch, every movement left a deep need coursing through your veins. You might’ve been embarrassed by the depth of your desire if your mind had any room for such thoughts.

But no. The only thing your thoughts would entertain right now was him.

”By Silavanis’s grace.” Halsin whispered, leaning back, hungry gaze taking you in. “Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

Your cheeks reddened further, arms coming up to shield your intimate parts from his attentive eyes. You were never the best at taking compliments, Especially ones as beautifully and lovingly crafted as the words Halsin used.

”Do not hide yourself from me, my heart. Do not deprive me of your beauty.” His hands gently pried yours away, his smile gentle.

”I’m just feeling a little overdressed.” You said, gesturing to the fully clothed Druid in front of you.

“I suppose you’re right, my sweet.” He grinned, hands working quickly to rid himself of his clothes.

You took the opportunity to marvel at the man’s physique. The way his tan skin shone in the candle light, scars shining. His muscles pulled and relaxed as he moved, the entirety of him an artfully designed creation.

It didn’t take long for his lips to come back down to yours, catching you in a passionate kiss. It was slow and purposeful, his arms wrapping around you to pull you flush against him. His grasp was strong, his skin deliciously warm against you. Calloused hands found their way to exactly where Halsin knew you needed them, one on the soft mound of your chest, the other under the curve of your ass.

Your lips worked just as eagerly against him, small moans escaping occasionally. Your hands clung onto his arms, hips already beginning to push up desperately.

”Patience, my heart.” Halsin’s voice was low, rasped, clearly holding on to the last bit of rationale he had left.

You couldn’t seem to help yourself, pushing your hips harder, wetness dragging along his hard member.

”Oak father, preserve me.” He growled, gripping your hip harshly. If it were anyone but Halsin, his tone may have made you nervous. But with him… it only made you crave him more.

”Please, Halsin. Please, I need you.” You begged, not caring how you’d been rendered undone so easily.

You weren’t left wanting for long, Halsin shifting slightly to press the soft tip of his cock against your entrance. You clenched around nothing, whimpering with need.

Halsin winced, showing much more control than you could manage. “You must relax, my heart. Breathe deeply.”

You took a deep breath and held it, preparing yourself for the inevitable stretch of Halsin’s rather endowed length. It had taken twice as long to get this far your first time laying together, you thought he would split open completely. But now, your impatience was wearing thin.

As if he could read your inner dilemma, Halsin finally gave you what you wanted. The tension melted from your body, your breath rushing out as an airy moan when you felt him push into you. “God’s above!” You whined, trying to acclimate to the stretch.

Halsin’s brow was furrowed, mouth in a thin line as he looked down at where the two of your body’s met, “You look so perfect with my cock inside of you, my heart. So perfect.”

You would’ve returned the compliment, thought of something else to say, that is if Halsin hadn’t chosen that moment to thrust all the way into your awaiting cunt. You cried out in pleasure, Halsin giving you no more time to adjust as he set forth a harsh pace. Every other breath was a moan, the sound of Halsin’s labored breaths shock waves to your core.

His hand came up to cover your mouth, trying his best to muffle your lewd sounds as his head dipped against yours.

”My heart…” He murmured. “Mine.”

His tone was graveled, possessive, and you could tell instinct was taking over already. Your own heat clenched in response, earning another harsh growl from your gentle giant.

“Halsin, I’m-“ You stuttered, your mind not able to take in both the pleasure and sweet burn from his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I know, my heart.” He choked out, his thrusts becoming quicker. He drilled into you with short deep pumps, sweat beading across his forehead. “Silvanus himself couldn’t create a more beautiful sight.” He whispered lowly, his hips starting to thrust more erratically. “Not more beautiful than you filled with my seed.”

With that, your cord snapped.

Your heat clenched tightly, incoherent moans muffled against Halsin’s hand. Your vision was blurry, pure ecstasy running like molten lava through your veins. You felt Halsin’s own release erupt into you with a growl, his teeth nipping at your ear as he followed through with his words.

For a moment or two, you both stayed like that, heavy breaths as you came back to the land of the living after such intense highs. When Halsin’s hand left your mouth and began to trace affectionate circles along your cheek, you finally trusted your voice enough to speak.

”I suppose I’m ready to admit defeat.” You smiled, bathing in the warmth of Halsin’s affectionate gaze.

“Surely you didn’t think I would’ve let you best me in the art of bedtime stories?” He chuckled, landing a kiss against your nose.

”We really must be careful doing things like this.” You teased, pointing to where the two of you remained connected. “We’re going to end up with yet another little one to take care of.”

You squealed into a giggle as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You snuggled into his warmth, deciding that cleaning up would better be left for tomorrow. Right now you were content being tucked into Halsin’s strong, steady arms.

“Oh, I’m not sure, my sweet.” Halsin smiled, eyes meeting yours with a look full of love and affection,

“What’s one more?”

#halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate halsin #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x you #baldurs gate x you #baldurs gate x reader #the ideal man

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privitivium · 2 months

Note

delinquent bully yan hate-fuck... he keeps on trying to pretend that he hates it and degrade you but he's the one crying and begging in the end

yandere delinquent hate-fuck. dom male reader

both amab, cw;; degredation from both of you, anal fingering, dumbification - fucking his "womb", mild dacryphilia, uhgh,,, bulge from tummy. mild? feminization

it was him who came to you. not the other way around!

y-you really thought you were going to fistfight with the way you were handling each other so roughly - jerking him around and snarling like a rabid animal as he insults you for the last fucking time you tell himㅡyou don't remember what started it... it was just joking banter; ripping on each otherㅡmaking fun of one another before you decide that he was going a little too far and he says that no, he wasn't going to stop just because you were a sensitive little baby who couldn't take a joke. obviously - this makes you more upset... and it only proves his point. FUCK HIS POINT!

"sensitive? little?" you echo - unbelieving that he got under your skin so quickly, grumbling nonsense as you push him back by his shoulders to try and initiate something with fists - "look at me. there's nothing little about me, you little prick." and glancing downward - briefly. meaning your own dick... that tells him everything he needs to know!! and i mean, he already knew about that anyway... stalkerㅡ"y'sure?" he laughs, nearly haughtily - "still so sensitive... all because of a little banter, bro? how much of a little girl are you?" - was he seriously trying to goad you? talking down to you...

"damn, look at that." you scoffed, smug as you glanced downward to catch a glimpse at his dick bulging through his skinny jeans. "you gonna let that thing breathe?" you drag out - hand gripping his wrist so hard you think it would snap - but you knew you weren't exactly that strong... pushing against you, he scoffs. squirming in place as he crosses his meaty arms over his prominent chest... "ㅡyeah, you fucking gave it to me so it's only fair you do something about it, right?" he snarks, visibly flustered yet upholding his cruel, "bad boy" demeanor...

ㅡ"yeah, i'll show you what i can do about that..."

having him bent over the desk so quickly he thought he was daydreaming again. he barely fucking fought you on it - yet he's still the one grumbling. breathless on howㅡ"you feel so fucking gross... y-you..." it was a true wonder how he was still going! such a damn whiner!!! "ㅡdon't fucking touch me there, you idiot." snapping so cruelly at you as you had gently rested your hand on his hip as you aimed... cmon, you deserve a little credit... bullying the bulbous tip of your thick cock past his unused hole you made sure to finger and prod around beforehand - trying to feel for his prostate. he was fluttering around your fingers... and you were imagining what it would feel on your cock, aching and leaking as you imagine before-

you couldn't hold back. you fucking wouldn't-! he deserved a little pain, no? treating you so cruelly, bullying you with those nasty insults about you and your friends... and now look at him. "fucking disgusting... cock... have you any experience? fucking amateur- ah, mmh.." ㅡ hah.. still insulting you, yes - but after a few quick tugs of his own weeping cock in-between his thick, muscular thighs by your nimble hand - he was broken rather quickly. pushing back... burying his ass into your groin and whining breathlessly... a complete contrast. now, this is what you like to see. gently, methodically humping into him, burying your face into his neck - as your hand worms underneath his shirt to grope his titㅡhe gasps so daintily... let's see if he makes any other girly noises that you can then exploit...

"gosh, look at you... fucking eager like a prostitue hungry for money." you grumble nastily into the shell of his ear - gripping his hips that he once smacked your hands away. "is that what you are? do you whore yourself out for damn near anyone?" you were having so much fun... making him a stupid crying mess on your fat cock, taking such pleasure in seeing him shake his head and whine that no, no he wasn't... he just wants you... youyouyouyou- "sure seems like it... seems like you're a goddamn whore you opens her hole to anyone, huh?"

ㅡ"nn-nuh,,, no..!" he looked so good like this... eyes blurry with tears ... clenching on your fat prick stuffed inside him... to think that this was the little freak chewing you out just before-! "m' n-not a p-prostitute... n-not a wh-nh-wh-hore..."

ㅡ"sure seems like it." you tease. pinching his hardened puffy nipple and rubbing it betwixt the pads of your fingers - ugh, the soft slap of your sack against his as you quicken pace of his spit lathered hole making your own hole clench - the feeling of his gummy walls clamping onto your cock trying to keep you inㅡ"sure seems like you're pretty eager for me to fill this womb of yours, huh?" grumbling to yourself, mindlessly - just to fuck with his already fucked out mind. thoughtfully caressing over his abdomen as you fill him up for a moment completely - just to feel a little bulge... the tip of your cock... you experimentally pull back and sure enough... disappearing. reappearing when you fuck into himㅡ

"a-augh, pl-please - ye-es yes, fuckㅡ" babbling straight nonsense... his gummy walls fluttering so deliciously around your prick as tears slip fluidly down his darkened cheeks. something about seeing him sobbing on your cock just made you feel so... alive. after acting so damn bratty and like you're the most vile fucking thing on earth that's ever been in his taut little hole - here he is, acting like a stupid fucking whore begging for you to fill up his nonexistent womb. fucking idiot.

#delinquent yan !!#x male reader #male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #sub male yandere #bottom male yandere

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zephyrchama · 6 days

Text

(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again

---01

It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.

Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.

Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.

---02

Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.

He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.

He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.

---03

Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.

He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”

You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.

Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.

---04

Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.

“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”

You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.

---05

Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.

When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.

As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.

---06

Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.

One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.

It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.

---07

It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.

The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.

Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”

Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.

#mc in satan's part is thinking about something weird like “friendpilled visitmaxxer” while satan's undergoing his own mental renaissance #i came up with ideas for all the side characters too. that sounded cute. maybe i'll write it. I didn't because...#i have a bad cold! achoo! should've written this in past tense for my sanity but my head is all blehh. i hope this stuff makes sense. woooo #you know it's a bad cold when i write in [shivers] /present tense/ (jk but it's difficult for me to keep the tense consistent)#note to self: tumblr's html color designation for yellow is phoebe #colds suck. i wear a mask daily and still got really sick so take care y'all.#obey me!#obey me #obey me brothers #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fluff

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lymtw · 2 months

Text

NSFW

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Description: It doesn't matter that you're in love with Toji's son. He can still take care of you in ways that you can only dream Megumi will ever be able to.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Um… Mr. Fushiguro, have you seen my bra? I swear I threw it over here somewhere.” You lay completely flat on the ground and search under the bed. You find your shirt, your pants, and your underwear, but there’s still no sign of your bra.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he says. “You know, I would help you look for your lost treasure, but, I just get so sluggish after a good fuck. Especially when it’s with your greedy self.” He chuckles quietly to himself, replaying the sound of your voice saying ‘more’ in his head.

“I know, it’s just… I don’t want to leave like this. What if Megumi comes home? I’m indecent.” You grunt as you stand up. You turn around to obscure your private areas, like Toji hadn’t just seen every part of you, and get dressed into what you could find.

“He’ll know he’s been waiting too long to fuck you, and then you kids can start going at it like rabid animals.”

It was a little uncomfortable to talk about being intimate with the man’s son, especially since you had just given yourself to him.

You turn to face the older man, and to your surprise but prominent relief, he has your bra spinning around his finger by one of the straps.

“Oh my god, thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro!” You smile brightly.

“First, it’s Toji. When you call me ‘Mr. Fushiguro’ it makes me feel ancient. Second, what are you thanking me for?” He stops spinning the garment and begins feeling the material.

“You found my bra. I don’t have to leave with my nipples poking through my shirt.”

The last statement drew attention to your chest from him. While he stares, he feels the little red satin bow that sits in the middle of your bra.

“Mm… I think i’ll keep it.”

Your heart dropped, and then the anxious feeling returned.

“It’s an incentive for you to come back to me. You can get it back next time, but only if you trade it for the one you’re wearing.”

“Mr.- Toji.” You inhale, a polite smile on your face. “Can I please have it back. I can’t walk out like this.”

“Sorry, baby. Just know that every time I look at it, i’ll think of how I manhandled you today.” He puts the garment on the pillow next to him, an act that made you lunge toward it to try and get it back.

“I thought I told you you couldn’t get it back today.” The devil shows its face through him. His grin is wicked, his eyes lidded like getting a rise out of you is no big deal.

“Then you can keep it because i’m never coming back here. You’ll never get me alone with you again.”

The man chuckles like you’re crying over spilt milk. “Come on, baby. You’re being dramatic. You should be glad that I want a memento for today.”

Your piercing gaze is the last thing Toji sees before you turn around and leave the room. You quickly create some distance from Toji’s room to kill any suspicion that arises from Megumi, but it was as if you had summoned your best friend the second you got two steps away from Toji's door.

“Hey, Megumi,” you try to say casually, like your heart isn’t in the depths of your stomach. He walks in clutching one of the straps of his backpack.

“Hey, sorry I made you wait so long. I know I said 3:30, but I had some things to finish up after class.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. I think i’m gonna head out right now. I have to work on the index cards for an upcoming presentation.”

Megumi’s eyes keep looking down at your arms over your chest.

“Are you cold or something? Here, take my jacket.”

“No, i’m fine. Megumi-” you pause abruptly, defeated. He’s already taking it off and handing it to you. You can’t deny him when he’s pushing it towards you.

You hear the door to Toji’s room open and take the jacket quickly, seeing the chance to cover your chest up while Megumi is distracted.

“Kid,” Toji greets his son, simplistically.

“Dad, ugh…” Megumi looks away in embarrassment. His nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow. “Can you get decently dressed? Please?”

You turn around, catching a glimpse of the outline in Toji’s pants.

“Oh, i’m sure that your friend doesn’t mind that i’m comfortable in my own home.” He fires a wink towards you.

You turn away again, flustered. “N-Not at all. I’m gonna go. See you later, Megs. Thanks for the jacket.” You pick up your backpack from the wall it leaned against and walked as quickly as you could.

“See you soon,” Toji says.

The door is opened quickly and shut even quicker. Your heart races and your stomach has not stopped turning since Megumi got home. Your house is a far enough walk to give you time to think about why things happened the way they did.

“Why do you have to be so creepy?” Megumi grumbles, picking his backpack up from the floor, ready to head to his room.

“You would know all about creepiness, huh? Little weirdo,” Toji bites back.

Megumi huffs, walking off. Sometimes he wonders if the man is older than five.

“Wait, one more thing.”

The younger man turns to face him again. Careless, lidded eyes meeting a smug expression.

“Are you taking care of her?” Toji is the only one who knows the hidden meaning behind that question, leading to a confused reaction from his son.

“She’s just a friend from school. I’m sure she handles herself well enough.”

Toji snickers at the response, quickly coming up with something else that is just as confusing for Megumi.

“Are you checking her oil?”

“She doesn’t drive.”

Toji can’t hold back a chuckle, but throws one more curveball at Megumi.

“Have you attacked the pink fortress yet?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Megumi’s annoyed now, wanting to leave this conversation so badly.

“Jesus Christ, are you fucking her?”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrow like it was a preposterous thing to ask, especially by his father.

“No, i’m not. We’re just friends.”

“You should definitely get on that. She’s waiting for you.”

Now Megumi was interested. Not in the sex, but in what Toji saw when you talked to him. There must have been some spark to insinuate that he was capable of bedding someone as pretty as you.

“What do you mean?”

“‘See you later, Megs.’” Toji mimics your voice. “She wants your dick, and you’re so oblivious.”

“I’m done with you for today.” Megumi doesn’t even know why he expected a different response—something more realistic.

“Later, Megs.” He copies your nickname for Megumi.

—

It's been two weeks and you still feel like shit for screwing your best friend's dad. It doesn't help that he won't stop texting you, constantly reminding you of what happened.

Hey

You look away from your laptop for the first time in an hour or so, only to look at the smaller screen next to you. You roll your eyes, not wanting to indulge in whatever Toji wanted from you.

Three minutes went by and you didn’t respond, so Toji sent another message.

You still mad?

You didn’t intend to read the message, but you did through your peripheral vision. It only made your skin crawl even more.

Answer

Why aren’t you answering? Quit leaving me on read.

You sigh, shutting your laptop. He won’t leave you alone until you answer so you put away your computer and toss yourself on your bed.

What do you want, Fushiguro?

Oh you’re mad mad huh? This is fun.

If you don’t tell me what the hell you want i’m blocking you

No need to be feisty baby. I’m trying to call a truce.

Give it back and i’ll think about it

Give what back?

Toji was grinning sinisterly behind the screen. He knew what you were talking about but it was risky for you to mention it through text. What if Megumi went through his phone and saw this conversation?

You know what i’m talking about. Quit playing dumb.

Fine. Come back tomorrow and you can have it back.

What time? I have to study with Megumi.

Ditch him

It’s not up for discussion.

Ditch him or you don’t get your bra back.

You sigh. Megumi is your best friend. Why he chooses to hang out with you? You don’t know. But doing this is gonna make you feel even less deserving of his friendship.

Fine

Good girl. I’m expecting you tomorrow by 4:00 sharp.

Don’t make me wait any longer than I already am.

You roll your eyes and shut your phone off, turning onto your side to get some much needed rest.

—

Morning crept up on you dreadfully. You weren’t looking forward to lying to your best friend, especially when it involved seeing his dad behind his back.

Class went by slow, as if you were being given the time to sum up the courage to tell Megumi that you wouldn’t be studying with him later. In reality, you were overthinking it like hell because when you got around to telling Megumi, he was cool about it. He shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal and said that he would study with Yuji.

Your phone vibrates against your thigh, so you check what it is and almost drop it in the process of trying to hide it back in your pocket.

Do you want me to pick you up?

The message is unanswered for the duration of your lunch break. As you’re walking back to class you quickly respond.

I’ll walk

—

The rest of the day went by too quick. As the end of your last class neared, your heart refused to calm down. It’s not like you were looking forward to seeing this horrendous man, it’s just that his last message left you on edge.

You walked the distance to Megumi’s house once again. You really took your time, not wanting to show any signs of eagerness or urgency to meet up with Toji. You felt your phone continue to buzz in your pocket, so you checked to see who was spamming you.

Hurry up

It’s only 3:40. You’re in no rush to get to him anyway.

Where are you?

I’m so fucking hard, can you walk any faster?

[Video Attachment]

Your ears suddenly fill with huffs and moans, and the slick sound of Toji fisting himself until his dick spews. You shudder, the sounds making your heart race.

Just know i’m not keeping these conversations

I bet you wish you could

Now that Toji is expecting you, he keeps an eye on the door. The second you knock, he jumps up from the couch and rushes to the door. The door opens and you can’t even get a word in before you’re pulled into the house.

The door slams, and your back hits the wall.

“Take your shirt off.” He crashes his lips against yours, not allowing you to do anything. His hands go under your shirt, feeling your warm skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re early. Missed me, didn’t ya?”When you feel him go for the hooks of your bra, you push him lightly, making him stop.

“Slow down, Toji. I don’t want to be fucked against the door.”

He rolls his eyes, “Forgive me, I didn’t know I was screwing royalty.”

You shove his hands away from you, your expression showing utter disappointment.

“Fuck you. I don’t have to do anything for you. Keep the stupid bra.”

He grabs your wrist as you reach for the doorknob.

“No, wait. I was just messing with you, kid. You don’t really want to leave, do you?” He’s thinking with his dick. The rock hard one that’s outlined in his pants, poking at your thigh.

You drop your hand, his hand still around your wrist. “I don’t want to stay if you’re just gonna be a jackass."

“It’ll be good. Come on.” He pulls you along with him to the room.

You enter the room, and it’s as empty as you remember. No photos on the walls or on his dresser. The most prominent thing being his TV mounted on the wall.

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me back here. You talk to other women, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’re messing around with them, too.”

You sit down with Toji at the end of his bed. He chuckles, his hand caressing your face. “You’re my favorite.”

“It’s wrong, Mr. Fushiguro.” You ignore the look on his face after hearing you call him by his last name. “Do you ever think about Megumi? He’s my best friend, not to mention, your son.”

“My son’s got one hell of a best friend. So fuckin’ hot.” He brushes your breast with his hand, his lips going for your neck as his hands continue their wandering.

“I don’t love you, I hope you know that.” You shut your eyes, engulfed in the sensation of his rough hands on your skin. You feel his kisses get harsher against your neck, luring a hiss.

“That’s okay, doll.” He chuckles, his breath hitting the side of your neck. “You don’t have to love me to let me destroy your pussy.” His hand trails down from your chest to your stomach before dipping into your pants. He feels the lace trimmings of your panties and goes beneath the layer, his fingers meeting your folds within seconds. “So wet already. You sure you’re in not in love with me?” He teases, a grin playing on his lips as he glides his middle finger between your slit.

Your chuckle blends with a moan. “It’s always like that when I see Megumi.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, princess. That boy lacks my personality.”

You gasp as his finger makes its way inside you, slowly pumping in and out. “Oh, thank god. He’s perfect.”

Toji’s lips purse in a form of annoyance. “We can stop talking about that little shit, now.”

“You jealous?” You giggle. The laughing stops and your heart pounds when you’re pushed back onto the bed.

“You think you're funny, huh?” You’re completely surrendered to Toji, your arms up and pinned by his hands.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, partially from the lack of touch, partially from the vulnerability of your position. You’re nervous, but you still manage to utter out, “Then why aren’t you laughing?”

He oughta fuck the sassiness out of you. You must really want Megumi to catch you in the act.

“Keep it up, sweets. Really want to hear you talking like this when I don’t let you cum.”

You go silent as your own decision, but the reminder that you’re there voluntarily sits in the back of your mind.

“You’re so pretty when you shut up. Love when you listen.” He grins, his hand cupping your jaw loosely.

He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s not loving at all. Not with the way he bites your lip and tugs on it as he pulls away, leaving saliva and a sting on your lip that makes you wonder if he nicked you.

He exhales through his nose as if contemplating what to do with you now that you’re in his reach. There’s a lazy grin etched on his face, and he’s staring you down, taking in the clueless look on your face.

“Take it all off.”

You crack, a chuckle leaving you. What is so funny? He expects you to display yourself for him like he’s the one doing you a favor. The least he could do is peel the layers of clothes off of you.

“Forgive me, didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty,” you bite, mimicking his phrase from earlier. “The least you could do is take it all off for me.”

“Fucking hell.” He sits you up, grabbing the end of your shirt and pulling it up swiftly over your head.

You blink, a smirk on your lips when you see Toji’s deadpan expression.

“So lucky I love your tits.” For a second he was talking to them, not you. “So warm and soft and perfectly made to hold.” Once again you are pushed down onto the bed. He pulls his shirt off and takes off his sweatpants, tossing them somewhere in the room before laying over you, his eyes targeting your breasts. He pulls the cups of your bra down, allowing your breasts to spill out and display their malleability. “You’re killing me, mama.” His tongue licks a stripe over your right nipple, his fingers coming up to roll it in circles until it’s hard. “How can you keep this from me? Hm?”

Your breathing is shaky as he continues on abusing your boobs. You swear you could keep him there until you want to leave if you really wanted to. You wouldn’t even have to touch him anywhere near his dick and he wouldn’t notice.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” He only asks because he can feel your stomach quivering against his abs.

“I-I need more.” Your fingers run through his black locks, gripping somewhat as he just continues to lap at your stiffened buds. You could cum with just enough friction.

“You want me to fuck you?” He grins, looking down at you like you’re the pathetic one in this situation.

“Fuck,” you moan, loving the friction of his thigh between your legs. “C-Come on,” you mutter to yourself, chasing that shockwave of pleasure before Toji takes it away. He listens to the little pants and huffs you let out as you continue to roll your hips against his thigh, watching the way look around the room because you can’t even look him in the eyes from how flustered you are.

“That’s enough.” His hands easily put an end to what would have been a crushing orgasm. His hands push down on your hips. He thinks the way your thighs tremble is adorable, and your ragged breaths are even cuter. “Trying to get off on my thigh when my dick is right here? That’s the dumbest thing you’ve done so far.” He leans down, inches away from your face. “I know you were about to cum,” his voice goes sultry. He speaks enticingly, causing your pussy to flutter. “But, I can’t have that yet, doll.”

He kisses your chin, going down the column of your neck where he takes the opportunity to litter the area with rose colored marks.

“Why are you covering me in hickeys? It’s like you want Megumi to find out about us.”

“I want you to see them whenever you’re alone," he murmurs into your skin. "I know you’ll touch yourself to the memories of today.” He feels the way your nails sink into his biceps, causing him to look up at your slightly irked expression. “Don’t be ashamed, ma. I have my moments, too.” His hand reaches back down to play with your pussy again, his mouth now at your ear’s level. “You know what I really love to think about?”

“Oh,” you gasp. “W-What?”

“How easy it is to get you wet. Just gotta be close to you like this,” his middle and ring finger rub up and down your slit, slowly driving you crazy.

You whimper, closing your thighs around his hand. “Greedy as ever. Won’t even let me give you what I want without you taking more.” There’s a wicked grin plastered on his face, anyway. There’s a part of him that loves this greediness from you because it means that a part of you wants him, even with all your little fits.

"K-Keep—oh my god." You can't even get through your sentence when he starts kissing your neck while he continues rubbing your cunt.

"Hm?" He mumbles against your skin, slowly moving down towards you chest again.

"G-Go, keep going! I... I," you moan, only to be left panting with dissatisfaction.

"You're not gonna cum from my fingers, if that's what you think is happening." He raises his gaze to look at your teary eyes. "You gonna cry?" It makes him smile like the little sadist he is.

"Of course not," you say, blinking a tear away. "It's not like you didn't edge me three times already."

"You're just an impatient little princess. Wonder how my brat will handle this attitude from you."

It's a constant push and pull between you and Toji. He likes the challenge of making you submit because you like pushing his buttons when he wants to take his time.

You gasp when his thumb runs through your slit again, the rough pad giving your clit a couple rubs before pulling away again. It makes him chuckle, the way you tense at his touch.

"You're not that touch deprived, are you?" He puts a hand on each side of your head, leaning down to watch the flustered response your dumb little brain comes up with.

"You're the one messing with me." You huff, putting your hands on his chest.

"Don't you masturbate?" He asks, grinning at the tension that returns to your body at the question. "Touch yourself until you cum so hard that your brain goes numb?" He whispers in your ear, making you tremble. He teases your breasts, his fingers brushing them until you start squirming.

"I-I do," you stutter out.

"Yeah? What gets you going? Who's on your mind?"

He is a lot of the time. Occasionally, it's Megumi, but because most of the time he's so sweet to you, you find it a little hard to sexually fantasize about him. Whereas his dad looks at you like you're something he can pin down so effortlessly, and now has proof that can do it, too. When you go over to his house to study with Megumi, Toji watches you so intently, and you can feel his gaze like a laser pointer aimed between your brows. You can't admit that to him, though. His ego will burst from how inflated it is. You also want to see the look on his face when he you tell him that Megumi is what you think about.

"Megumi."

He lets out a deep chuckle. You can see the irritation on his face. It's something that makes you grin.

"We'll see if you're still thinking of him in a minute."

The precum on the front of his boxers is now visible, something that makes your heart beat so fast. He sees the way you look at the bulge in his boxers— half amazed, half scared. Now that managed to boost his ego regardless of you trying to throw him off earlier. You almost choke on your spit when he takes his boxers off. Your eyes go wide for a second, and your heart starts threatening to jump out of your chest once he gets back on the bed.

"H-How?" You ask, looking at the cocky expression on his face. He knows exactly what you're wondering about.

"We've done it before, we can do it again." He kisses your knee, his hand trailing up your thigh. He thinks back to the first time he got you in his bed, and how your eyes twinkled at the size of his cock. He laughs quietly at the image before him. Same woman, same reaction.

"It's gonna hurt again." You say, as he gets closer, his cock grazing your thigh.

"Only for a second, and then we both get the best orgasm of our lives." His hand caresses your face, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the apple of your cheek.

"Okay, fine."

"Good girl," he almost purrs. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since the last time you were in his room. You were so tight, almost like you were brand new. The feeling haunted him for those two weeks. Whenever Megumi came home, he looked out for you, hoping that when you did tag along, you searched for him too.

You couldn't deny that him calling you a good girl sparked something in you. It was approval from someone older than you, someone who is very attractive and is in the middle of showing you how attracted they are to you.

"You ready?" He asks, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly.

You nod, and Toji gives your thigh a little slap. You laugh at the smirk growing on his face, knowing what he's on about.

"I'm ready," you confirm more clearly.

"Good. I'll go slow like last time."

You nod, nervous again. He runs the tip through your folds, watching your face as he teases you. You look like you're premeditating the pain, your brows slightly pinched as you wait. The tip finally slides in, luring a whine out of you.

"Shh... it's okay. We got it going." It's always hard for Toji to be slow and gentle when you look like that, but he does it so that there are more tears of pleasure than there are of pain. He pushes in a little more, listening to every sound you make. The little whimpers as he stretches you while he works to make you take more of him in, the sniffling as tears start to brim in your eyes.

"Good, so good," he praises. He leans into the crook of your neck, kissing, and leaving souvenirs of your time spent with him. He attempts to distract you from the ache of him pushing deeper by biting your shoulder just hard enough to focus on the new area of pain.

"Ow, f-fuck," you moan, one of your hands tugging at his hair while the other rests on the nape of his neck.

"Just a little more. Almost there," he says, stifling a groan. While you're trying to adjust to his length, he's trying not to bust in less than a minute because of how tight you're clenching around him. "It's okay," he assures, unable to hold back a chuckle when he sees the tears gliding down both your cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumb and leans down to kiss your lips, using this as another distraction from the last push. You gasp and try to pull away from the kiss once he pushes the rest of his cock in, but Toji kept his mouth latched to yours, swallowing every whimper and cry that came with your pain.

He finally releases you, instantly noticing the new color on your tear-stained cheeks. You're blushing over his kiss?

"Didn't know a kiss would rile you up so much." He chuckles, wiping a few more tears off your cheeks.

"You never kiss me like that."

He sees the stars formed in your eyes. It's kinda cute.

"Eh, anything to get you to focus on something other than me stretching you out." He looks away for second to kill the romance trying to seep into the situation.

You put your hands on his chest and slowly move them upwards to his shoulder. "That's all of you, right?"

"Right. Can I start fucking you now?" He wraps your legs around his waist to give him better leverage, and positions his hands at each side of your head.

"Do it. I want it."

You shook something inside of him with that one.

"You want what?" He asks, making sure he's in his right mind and not just hearing what he wants to hear.

"I want your cock, Toji. Wreck me again."

It made chills run up his spine to hear you say that, especially with the way your nails gently dragged up and down his shoulders.

He starts moving his hips, starting at a slow pace even if you didn't ask him to. He pulls out, then slowly pushes in again. Your little moans are adorable every time he pushes into you again. He's turning you into a flustered mess with how intently he watches you. You can hardly hold eye contact with him. His face is inches away from yours, memorizing the way your lip quivers after biting it. Then he hears something that takes him back to the first time you slept with him.

"M-More, Toji. Faster, please."

"Greedy as always, hm?" His tone is raspy as he tries to remain composed. Nonetheless, he complies with your wishes, picking up the pace. The new pace instantly makes your chest rise and fall quicker, panting at the pleasure being fed to you.

"H-Huh? How's that?" He groans. "Don't wanna break ya." He chuckles breathily.

"F-Fuck, so good. Just want you... w-want you to make me cum," you moan, your stomach quivering.

"Yeah? Want me to make you cum?" He coos. The way your eyes rolled back made his cock twitch inside you.

"You're so fucking big, I can feel you rearranging my insides."

Toji realizes you've reached the point where you're so fucked out that you start babbling nonsense. This is his favorite part because when you're not talking, your moans get louder and fill in the silence perfectly. Your moans go straight to his dick, making it just so much better.

"You're so pretty like this, all desperate for my cock."

"Toji," you moan needily.

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You have a twisted way of making his heart race over something that isn't cardio.

"Toji..." you repeat, your voice like slick honey. Your nails dig into his back when he prods at your sensitive spot, your hips rolling up against his thrust.

"Fuck," he groans. "What is it?" His grip tightens into a fist on the sheets.

"I just really like saying your name. Fuck, Toji," his name rolls off your tongue again, the sultry sound reaching his ears so quickly.

"I will cum right now if you say my name like that again."

You giggle, watching a bead of sweat glide down his temple. You wipe it away the way he wiped away your tears, and this flipped a switch inside Toji's head. He laces his fingers between yours and pins them above your shoulders. You feel even more vulnerable beneath him, and he can keep you pinned there for as long as he wants.

"You think that's funny, doll?" He presses his nose to yours. Your pussy clenches at his tone, but you have no choice but to fend for yourself against this god of a man. So, you nod and bat your lashes at him. "Say it again."

"Toji."

His thrusts quicken and you feel like you're inching closer towards this 'best orgasm of your life' he mentioned before.

"Again," he grunts. His eyes are so dark as they keep you locked in his gaze. His lips hover over yours, ghosting them as you follow directions.

"T-Toji..." you whimper, your cheeks getting hot again like before.

"God... say it again," he croaks. He is so close, his mind is clouded as hell.

"O-Oh my god, Toji." You gasp, digging your heels into his lower back. You arch your back, rolling your hips against the bed as you cum so hard that you feel you might make Toji's knuckles bleed with how hard you dig your nails into them. Your toes curl and your mind goes hazy for a second. You're grounded by the feeling of Toji still drilling your sensitive cunt, chasing his own end.

"Oh fuck, just a little longer. Please, sweetheart," he groans, burying his face in your neck. You could hear hear all his moans and grunts so close to your ear as he gets closer to his orgasm. It fueled your attraction to him like gallons of gasoline fuel explosive fires, and it really did feel explosive in the moment. He nibbles on your neck as he nears his orgasm. Your thighs tremble around his hips, your knuckles white from the tightness of your grip.

"O-Oh fuck.. Gotta pull out, doll... Let me pull out," he says, releasing your hands and moving quickly as the cum threatened to burst out of him and into you. The emptiness in your pussy felt strange because you were filled by him for so long. You instantly missed the feeling.

You watched the frenzied state he was in with stars in your eyes, the look on his face as he released thick spurts of cum all over his stomach. The stuttered cursing as he swiped his thumb over the slit of his tip to collect the dollop of cum left. He chuckles, breathlessly, upon turning his lidded gaze to you. "Whatcha thinking about?"

You sit on your knees, and wait for him to catch his breath before saying anything.

"What is it, pretty girl?"

"Can I?" You look at the thick substance on his thumb.

"Really?" He asks, a smirk on his face that practically calls you pathetic. You nod, so he raises his hand up to your face, the pad of his thumb smearing his cum all over your lips before lowering your bottom lip and allowing you to taste it off the digit. You lap at his thumb, wrapping your lips around it once you licked it clean.

"You're so fuckin' nasty," he says as his cock threatens to ask for another round with you. He can feel it twitching as you suck on his thumb. The warmth of your mouth and the way you maneuvered your tongue around him was driving him just a little crazy. He can't help but stare at your glossy, saliva and cum coated lips.

You pull away, immediately licking off the cum on your lips. "What?" You ask, when you notice the way he's looking at you. Looking like he's going to pounce on you again. He developed a similar twinkle in his eyes as you.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to say anything. You gave me a look," you tease.

He's quiet for a second, allowing you to read the expression on his face. "There's just no way you can do that to my kid."

You burst out in laughter, slowly making your way to the edge of the bed. You see all your clothes on the floor and quickly locate your bra.

He moves towards the head of the bed, and leans on the headboard. "You'll kill him if you do."

You keep giggling as you get dressed. "Aw, did you almost die?"

He chuckles at your jab and leans into it. "Saw my life flash before my eyes for a few seconds."

You sigh contently, "Good. Well, gotta go." You start towards the bedroom door.

Toji quickly wraps the sheets around his lower half, and shuffles over to you. "So, when will I see you again?"

Your hand remains on the doorknob. "You're funny." You giggle, shaking your head. You turn the doorknob and open the door.

Toji pushes it shut and keeps his hand pinned on the door. "Tell me you've had better sex." His enticing green eyes hold you down, and suddenly you're fluttering down there again.

"I've had better sex," you challenge.

"Mean it, princess," he argues, but the corner of his lip twitches, a grin forcing itself out.

"I hate you." Toji swears that's the sweetest voice he's ever heard. You unintentionally sugarcoated your sentence.

"That's what makes it so good." His hand releases the door and settles on your shoulder. "I wanna see you again."

"You're obsessed," you laugh.

"I'm gonna text you."

You open the door again, effortlessly as Toji stopped putting pressure on it. You walk out, and Toji only takes a couple steps out to follow you, given the status of his clothes. "Remember, it's gonna be a long wait for Megumi. Boy's got no type of awareness."

"I'll gladly wait."

"Wouldn't mind keeping you until then," he shoots, eyeing your frame from behind.

"You should really find someone closer to your own age, Mr. Fushiguro," you tease, a playful smirk resting on your lips. You wave goodbye not turning to look back at him. Toji returns to his room, dropping the sheets as soon as the door closed.

Megumi won't be home on Wednesday

Come keep me company

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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keep close | joel miller

Summary: It takes you six months to break. You thought you'd last longer. Tried convincing yourself that everything in your head was because he saved you, not because of real attraction. One night, Joel proves that to be wrong. a/n: I'm nothing if a byproduct of my environment. And my environment right now is a mind palace made only of Pedro's role... so here we go. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. [WC: 3.7k] Warnings: Mostly fluff. A hint of indecent thoughts, so maybe reader discretion is advised? Protective!Joel, strangers to friends, unresolved sexual tension.

masterlist

What lived under your skin the most was Joel's duality.

Registering the range of what he was proved to be a difficult task from the very beginning.

Here he was, the man who saved you. The man who somehow, despite the gritty and cruel ways of existence, managed to keep a kind bone in his body. Kind enough to step in when you were in danger, even if he didn't need to. Life-threatening danger—most people would look away these days. But not him. Not Joel.

Here he was, the man who was kind enough to look you in the eye when he saw you crunched down in a corner, sweating profusely due to the wounds and most likely looking like a rabid or wild animal, and still tried putting some calmness to his voice before asking: "Can you walk? I heard you. 'm gonna help, ok?"

That man. The same one who beat the bastards who were keeping you to a pulp. That man, currently, slept only a couple of feet away from you, with his face half-tucked inside his scarf and jacket, and for the first time in your life, you saw Joel... smiling.

It was the first time you witnessed it.

The book on his lap told you he fell asleep mid-chapter. While the sprain and cuts were minor compared to what they could be, Joel fussed as if they were broken bones. The most worrisome part was your ribs, but those, he cut out fabric from an old t-shirt of his ("they're all old now though, aren't they?") and wrapped your body as firmly as he could.

It made you smile, even if only at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

How could this be the same man?

Sometimes, you closed your eyes and saw him like that.

Mid-fight, rage and sadness oozing out of him as if they were radiation, his fists flying so fast it seems impossible to catch up to the act.

When violence is needed, Joel breaks the calm surface and introduces outsiders to the storm within.

It goes calm, storm, drizzle.

He'd never change that.

Now that it was too late, Joel would always be this sea of turbulent waters, often hidden by its vastness.

Joel "I will punch you in the throat" Miller asked you very few questions at first.

Dinner on the day he rescued had been awkward, to say the least.

Not that it mattered in the long run.

What was awkwardness in the face of not looking over your shoulder, and what was feeling left out and intrusive in comparison to the jittery stress of always checking if the gun is loaded?

Nothing.

Having two people close by who seemed alright in the head — a rarity, if there ever was one —trumped it all.

Joel and Ellie were headed West. So were you.

It was logical, only. Or it was, at first.

"I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this one," Joel admitted. It was the first night walking together after one week stationed at the same place to wait for yours and Ellie's healing—a night of dubious whiskey and traded information.

"She doesn't seem that difficult," you answered, eyeing Ellie's sleeping frame on the other side of camp.

He scoffs. "She isn't." His lips pursed in a thin line. "I just—" his shoulders shrugged. "Think she might get bored with just me."

For someone who had barely said a word for a whole week, it was more than you first perceived him to be. "The world's quite a boring place now," you whispered. Then, shrugged your shoulders just the same. I don't care. "I like it."

"Do you?"

"I do." You remembered how noisy things were. So many nowadays lacked the age for that, but not you. "'s nice hearing nature. And that one," you tilted your chin towards Ellie, "should be happy to be alive."

The truth of that hung in the air.

That first conversation sealed it for you—Joel making an effort to ask things and answer your inquiries surprised you.

"Think we can keep her alive 'till we get to the Fireflies base?" Joel asked you.

You thought it over for a second, and came to a conclusion. "We can definitely try." A purpose other than escaping — all you've ever known — and surviving sounded good to you. "And if that's your mission, probabilities of success rise with another member on the team."

That night, all you got out of him was one eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" It sounded teasing, but he looked so serious saying it. "Well. 'm gonna hope you're as good with that rifle as you are with your probabilities."

To his delight, he quickly discovered you were.

Faster, even.

Joel might have risen an eyebrow at first, but your sentence proved to be true in the next couple of months. There's a team there. The two of you do your best at trying, even through hardships.

When there are no Fireflies, you make Ellie look away from the bloodshed. With no clear plan or direction in sight, you're a helpful extra set of eyes when Joel decides it's best to look for Tommy.

In all of the three months where you, Joel, and Ellie head towards Wyoming, a routine is established, and the days looking after each other make it hard to pretend there's any distance between your little group.

Ellie is fond of your Encyclopedia of Unbelievable Facts.

She's a quick learner, an agile fighter with a wicked sense of humor, and enough cursing to rival you in the games of "unladylike shit and sounding like pirates, honestly," as stated by Joel.

He hid a lot of his amusement in scoffs and sighs, you thought.

Joel is fond of doing perimeter checks, sleeping on his side, and 'peace and quiet'.

It takes you a bit to understand that it's easier to pull conversation from him when Ellie is safe and sound. Tucked in her sleeping bag, showering in the river streams (and swearing incessantly under her breath), eating her food.

Without Ellie around, Joel opens up, bit by bit.

He talks about Tess.

About how close he and Tommy always were.

"I bailed him out of jail, y'know? That night of..." he doesn't say it.

Most of us never do. "Did you?"

He chuckles drily. "I did." He shakes his head, sips his water. "Stupid fucker."

"More like lucky fucker." When Joel turns his head to you with furrowed eyebrows, you elaborate. "If you hadn't gone, no more Tommy."

Joel takes a second before nodding. "Yeah."

"Were you always bailing him out of trouble?"

His face softened for a second. Before him, you embraced the darkness as you did the silence, but now, you wished for better lighting. "Often. Once, he and I were at our dad's house on a winter hunting trip. He hated those at first, but before..."

You started living for the stories.

Joel's presence became warm when he shared.

Vivid, and so fucking tempting.

It was all soft whispers back and forth, until the day he dropped her name.

"Sarah."

You knew the second you heard it—an open wound starts smelling the longer it stays open, and this one carried literal weight to it.

A whiff in the wind, and mourning was all over the air.

Joel left, and in the morning, nothing more is said.

Colorado changes everything.

It gives you the smile.

It comes at a cost, like everything else.

Since there's been no Tommy, you advise and convince Joel to check the Fireflies base here, only to find out they're relocated to Salt Lake City. When you three are coming out of the building with the fresh news hot on your laps, a group tries to ambush and kidnap you three.

As it does in this world without order, hell breaks lose.

Other than hell, a lot more breaks—protocol, jaws, ideas, trust.

Theirs thankfully.

You, Joel, and Ellie make it out alive, but not good.

You find a safehouse in a mountain cabin.

"Friend of Tommy's used to live here. Thank fuck it's still here," said Joel.

"Thank fuck indeed 'cause I don't know how much longer I can—oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel."

"Hey, hey, take it easy, slow down." Joel is just if not more fucked up than you from the fight, but he's still the one holding you up. He whistles—a call for Ellie. "Help with her other side, we can finish lighting up the place afterward. She needs to lie down."

Ellie hooks her frame underneath your left side, and you thank her with your weak and sweaty smile. "And your sure just lying down and resting will heal her rib?"

"It just cracked. Bones heal, El."

"I'm just checking." Ellie always checks. "You might need some penicillin, too. That knife looked ugly."

"I'll get it once we're all cleaned up. I'll go on a run," says Joel.

You're hurt too, you bastard.

"I'm the only one not limping here, can't I go?" asks Ellie.

"No," you and Joel say in unison. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm bruised, but nothing's infected. I think I saw a warehouse down there."

Ellie sighs next to your ear. Then, she mumbles to you right before you're lied down on the bed. "Bet this will be Pittsburg two."

Pittsburg.

The fight. Joel deciding to save you despite your brother almost ruining Ellie's life.

Joel's frame sleeping next to your cot.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

Not a single request for your apologies, or a comment on the shitshow that happened before you just 'ran off'.

Joel, the same man who saved you from a group of lunatics by bashing one of their member's head against the nearest tree, huffed and puffed before saying, "you saved Ellie's life by shooting your brother. and... i'm sorry about what came after that."

An apology from him.

How was that fair?

"You don't need—to thank me."

"I do."

"...You just saved my life, Joel."

"Well, you saved Ellie's, so consider us even."

That was then.

That was before deciding you were a team. Before heading West, before finding out about Salt Lake, before the attack.

Joel probably needed to rest himself.

Except—

There he is.

The first thing you think upon waking up in the candle-lit room.

Joel slept next to you, almost as if keeping guard.

It stirs the strings in your chest.

It's one thing to be observed by him after he saved you from those three men because you're bruised and traumatized by the whole thing.

It's whole other to know Joel is just as bruised.

Six months have passed since then.

A lot has happened. More than you could compute, sometimes, but less than your heart desired.

All the struggles, the Infected, the long days of walking, and the hard nights of worrying have molded this new thing into its own ecosystem.

This Joel sleeping on an old mattress right next to you lets Ellie take watch because he trusts her abilities and her notion of danger. He knows if you two prefer your 'apocalypse grub' — an Ellie trademark term — all mixed together or separated, if you can be trusted with the bourbon bottle (no), and that your taste in music is "atrocious but expected" (his words, clearly).

This Joel knew you kept your distance for a reason.

He'd seen it in you, months ago.

And yet, there he was.

With the book — your book — in his lap, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs already tucked inside the raggedy blankets you found in one of the cabinets.

Joel's extensive list of injuries had you waking up in a cold sweat, but the same as you, he seemed to recover fast.

In two days, he's wincing less to get up, and comments on his wishes to go look for pharmaceuticals.

That's the night you wake up to him sleeping—both of you could do it, but he insisted on taking turns.

When your eyes open, first, you see the book.

Then, you notice he moved the mattress closer to yours.

They're touching.

The raggedy blankets make them look like a single bed, and the thought feels foreign.

Next, you notice...

Joel is right there.

Sure, he's a few inches away, but... you could touch his legs if you extended your arm. All it would take is a little bit of wiggling to make a pillow out of his thighs, and you know how much more comfortable than what you have underneath you.

His smile is the last thing you see.

Not because you skipped his face—on the contrary, Joel's face is the first thing you see in the morning and the last you see at night.

Maybe that's why.

He never had this.

A gentle, real smile.

You hardly blame him. There are no reasons to smile nowadays, not for long. Not without sadness poisoning the eyes, or without the grin turning into a grimace.

Joel is smiling.

His dream must be good, because his features all softened somehow.

Good gods, he's handsome.

That's why you look so little at his face. The real reason.

Staring at Joel too much can cause you to think of nothing else, and in month one you learned the lesson of eyes wide open or head blown open wide.

Mistakes meant death.

Joel's eyes crinkled as he lifted one of his mouth's corners in the closest thing that could come off as a 'smile', and that meant distraction, which meant an eventual mistake, and so on.

When your gaze searches for the lines left by his crinkles, Joel's eyes are on you.

As serene as the quietude outside, Joel stares down, and in a contrast to the weather howling cold winds outsides, your body says it is morning, and it rises.

The longer he stares, the more it rises.

Your blood pumps harder under his gaze.

Joel knows that. He has to.

Silence with fixed gazes turns the air into a thick, palpable fog.

Why is he staring? It's probably the busted eyebrow. Busted lip. Joel never stares at you, never looks too long, too hard, never looks enough—

"I can almost hear you thinkin'," Joel's voice is a whisper, but it startles you nonetheless. Not in fear.

Once, somewhere, you read something you never forgot. The body, it always betrays itself. It blushes. It trembles.

It was true.

The shiver is involuntary.

Your mother used to say the sound of sirens meant trouble and ever since, you always heard sirens in your head as you panicked. "Was observin' your hair," laugh, look away, know your place. "It's gettin' whiter."

It gets a chuckle. A tight-lipped smile. "I'm gettin' older."

"So you say." Constantly.

The first reminder of why he kept his distance, probably. Of why he had no interest in you. Too young.

"Doesn't it look like it?"

You shrug, hugging the makeshift pillow tighter under your head. "'m not so sure how old people are supposed to look." Definitely not this good, right? This broad. Soft. Strong "Haven't been around many."

Joel points at himself. "Right here."

"You're not old."

His lip twitches. "No?"

"No."

"I'm over my forties."

"That's not old." You don't know why you're arguing. You never argue.

Joel closes the book, then hums. "I remember the world before it turned to ruins and vines."

Maybe it's because he's so damn close. Your fingers itched to touch him countless times before, but usually, there are more counterarguments in your head as to why you shouldn't. "So do I."

The smile returns to his face, but it's the awake and lucid kind—a little sadistic. Sad. "Let me rectify it—I lived in it."

"So did I." Albeit, not much. "Less than you, though." A decade or so more. Almost two.

"Right." Joel takes a deep breath, and the movement quiets you down.

Sometimes, you wished you had just a few years more. Five, or six would suffice. Would he look at you, then?

As the silence goes on, your mind starts with at least three different scenarios where Joel met you under different circumstances.

"Can't sleep anymore?"

There's no shiver this time, but you look up at him again, desperate to see some more of his sleepy eyes and that damned smile.

"Don't know," you whisper.

If he smiles again, you'll count the night as a win. Tuck his happiness somewhere out in the front of your mind to see if it occupies space. If it makes you think less of what he used to be like as a lover.

The tainted thoughts always make you avert your eyes, but this time, you have the benefit of only candle lights, so you let the embarrassment burn you as you keep staring.

Joel is looking at your face the same way. Heavy eyelids, gaze searching.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

The question makes your brain swim in the lingering pain, but for other reasons.

Every scenario still opened in your mind leads to the same corridor—he placed his big hands on your neck right now to feel your temperature and caressed somewhere in your body to put you to sleep.

Somewhere he could touch the skin.

Through foggy vision you see Joel starting to frown, so you're quick to answer before he worries.

"'m just uncomfortable." True enough. "Anxious."

He nods. "Makes sense." He exhales slowly, placing the book on the floor next to the mattresses. "It'll take a while to calm down from it. It... they came out of nowhere." You nod. He clasps his hands together on his lap. "It could've been a lot worse."

Your group had a rule. "No what ifs about the past."

Joel made your heart jumpstart all over again by almost doing it—he almost smiled. "Right. Sorry."

"We're both in one piece."

"We are." He looked down at you and then, in a gesture that your entire body freezing on the spot, one of Joel's hands leaves his lap, and makes its way to you. It places on top of your head. In administrated, slow moves, it starts petting your hair. Then, Joel speaks. As if you can listen. "None of us needs penicillin..."

His words seem to trail off.

You need a second longer to relax under his touch. When you do, the tension melts so visibly you might as well be snow under the sun.

This time, the silence is thick.

Liquid.

When his hand moves lower, it ends up on your back, rubbing between the shoulder blades, and clearing the line of sight for his eyes again.

That's when he must see it.

The second he started to touch you, your blood become fuel. You could feel it burning hot inside your veins, moving faster than it ever did with you two alone in a room. The only times it's beaten like this before you were either in life-threatening danger, or muffling your sounds behind your hand as your other did quick work between your legs.

Joel sees it.

Even if the illumination comes only from the candles, he has to see it.

The way your lips parted for him.

There's no way your eyes aren't saying as much as the temperature your body is exuding.

Joel keeps on rubbing circles for a few more seconds, but eventually, he whispers. "What?"

It makes you want to cry.

If you answer, he'll probably do the thing. He'll turn you down gently, politely.

You shake your head, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Nothing." Your eyes sting. I want you so badly it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Instead of that, you settle for whispering. "How d'you feel?"

It takes him a minute to answer. His eyes keep shifting between where his hand is rubbing and your face. "Good. Hurts less. Unfortunately, that means thinking more."

"Dangerous."

"You have no idea," he chuckles.

This time, the silence lasts. You keep on staring, while Joel is happy to continue making your back and hair feel a tingling warmth they never saw before.

"Is this ok?" he asks eventually.

Without noticing, your eyes had closed.

Always a man of few words. "Of course."

He nods to you. "'kay."

Stay here. Don't go anywhere.

Watch out for her.

Keep close.

Those and okay. The words you most heard over these past months.

When your eyes open again, Joel's hand is traveling back to your hair and this time, the silence between you two becomes a cord.

Tension.

His fingers do careful work once they find your strands—goosebumps rise all over your skin and for the first time, you're thankful for wearing long sleeves even to bed.

You know there are words hanging in the air, begging to be said, but...

Insecurity pulls you back.

Even if your eyes keep locked on his for a small amount of forever, you swallow down your wants and needs in fear of being blinded by your own attraction and ending up projecting yours on him.

All Joel does is stare back.

Maybe if you weren't inexperienced. Maybe if you had any previous knowledge of what intimacy and relationships had been like, but this world was not the same as before and things were... harder.

So you burned in silence.

Eventually, you burned for him in the dark of your sub-conscience.

With the ghost of Joel's hand still on your nape, caressing on top of your hair, you dive into a deep slumber, and it's in dreams that everything cracks.

You're not even present in mind to witness his world shift.

Joel, in silence, watched you going under. Watched those eyes staring up at him with so much said, so much written in between your lines. He watched with his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.

When you sleep, he observes with reverence.

Trying to push down the feelings curling up inside him.

That's when he hears it.

Spoken through your glued lips at first, then louder, more confidently. Joel's heard your sleeping mumbles before, but this one is the one that breaks him.

"Joel..." soft. Breathless. Dangerously low. And then, "Joel."

That's when Joel realizes it—late at night, alone in the silence.

It changes something in him.

📝 PART TWO →

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