NameTamara

☆ ﹒Name﹐Tamara﹒➷

☆ ﹒Age﹐23﹒➷

☆ ﹒Pro/Noun﹐She/Her ﹒ ➷

☆﹒fandoms ﹒ ➷

⪩⪨ ﹒ Obey me ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒ FFXIV ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Genshin impact ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒FFXV ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒FFVII ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Ateez ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Jujutsu Kaisen ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Haikyuu ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Bnha ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Naruto ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒One Piece ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒FFXVI ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Castlevina ﹒ ⪩⪨

⪩⪨ ﹒Demon Slayer ﹒ ⪩⪨

asking them what their body count is

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume, ijichi

ʚ cont: suggestiveness, crack, fluff

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Lessons

Joshua Rosfield x female reader Big ol' FF16 spoilers (though not endgame)

“My apologies for disturbing your meal, but would you entertain my company a moment?” You’d been too distracted at picking through today’s soup to hear Clive approach.  

Or at least you thought it was soup, maybe it was stew. Is there a proper difference? You just asked for whatever’s hot. The novelty of warm food in your stomach never seems to wear off.

“Of course – I’m pretty much finished anyway.” You reply, placing the spoon back in the bowl and gesture to the seat opposite. “How can I help?”

The Fire Dominant sits and smiles sheepishly, lacing his fingers together as he places his hands on the table.

“It has been brought to my attention that you are interested in learning your letters.”

“Oh…” You’re embarrassed that, somehow, it’s landed under Clive’s remit. You’d only confided in a handful of your fellow Cursebreakers - it had been necessary when you obviously couldn’t read reports that had come in, or send updates in return, and discussed the possibility of learning with Dorys on a handful of occasions but it had never seemed a good time. You’d arrived at the Hideaway a few months before Clive had, spending a brief period getting accustomed to a free life before you fell in with the Cursebreakers, wanting to assist fellow Bearers in having the same second chance you had been given. Your former master had been a traveling merchant and it had been either you defend him from fiends and bandits on the road, or he’d have no qualms leaving you as bait to gain him passage. After going under Tarja’s steady hand, your Brand had been removed and you’d been sent out with a blade. The past five years had been filled with re-establishing the new Hideaway and Cursebreaker responsibilities.

“I didn’t mean for it to be brought to you, Clive. It was just a passing comment…”

“I wish you had. You’ve toiled with the Cursebreakers for years for those to live on their own terms, and that should include learning letters, if they so wish.” He hesitates a moment, looking a little bashful. “I am afraid I have come with a somewhat selfish notion in my proposition.”

“What do you mean?” If he needed a Cursebreaker who could read, there were plenty on hand…

“I heard from Dorys that you didn’t seem particularly keen on sitting in with the children in Miss Shirleigh’s lessons, and I know that Harpocrates is often kept busy with research on other matters. However, I am aware of someone who is a fine scholar and suddenly finds themselves at a loss of what to do with their time.”

“Who?” You frown, trying to think of who else in the Hideaway would befit a title. One of Mid’s Engineers, perhaps?

“My brother – Joshua. He’s been prescribed a moon’s cycle of rest by Tarja and it is going to be difficult to get him to comply. I thought if he had something to focus on in his period of convalescence, it might at least keep him within the Hideaway, and help you fulfil your goal.”

“But if your brother is meant to be resting, he surely shouldn’t be attempting to tutor me.”

“Resting from anything physical – I assure you his mind remains at full health. Please, at least think about it. He is getting through the contents of our shelves at a fair pace, I think he’d enjoy acting the tutor.”

You hesitate. “Have you broached this idea with him?”

“Not yet. I thought it best to speak with you first.”

“I am not sure. It doesn’t feel the best time. I mean, with the growing number of aetherfloods and akashic…”

“You’ve done so much for the Hideaway over the years – please, allow yourself to be selfish. And, if you still struggle to do so, please do it as a favour to me. I would be in your debt.”

“All right. But see how your brother feels first. If he doesn’t want to, please don’t push it.”

 Clive grins.

--

You were nervous ahead of your first meeting with Joshua. Clive had offered his chambers as a makeshift classroom – Founder knows he was hardly in it – and he thought the two of you would appreciate the solitude it provided.

You knocked hesitantly on the doors before they were swiftly opened by a smiling Clive.

“Come in.”

The Phoenix is already sat at the solar’s desk – a bit more colour in his cheeks than there had been when you’d seen him limp past the mess, on his way up to the infirmary after their return from Kanver. The map that’s usually found spread across Clive’s desk is carefully folded away and instead blank parchments, ink pots and quills fill their place, and another chair has been sourced, sat the opposite side of the blonde.

Joshua gets to his feet with a charming smile, approaching you. He kneels swiftly, taking your hand and kissing the back of it in greeting. “My lady.”

“Joshua, did you not learn your lesson from Mid?” Clive laughs, noting your shocked expression as the blonde gets back to his feet and lets go of your hand.

“I cannot help it, Clive.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” You nod, trying to regain your composure. “And thank you, my lord, for agreeing to help me.”

“Not at all. And, please, call me Joshua.” He gestures for you to take the seat in front of the desk before looking to his brother. “Clive, if you’d be so kind…”

“Of course.” The outlaw nods, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your studies.”

The next few hours were spent with Joshua establishing how much you did know. Some letters were familiar, but your grasp on the full alphabet was patchy. Your penmanship needed attention – non-existent before this morning, truthfully - as he kindly helped position the quill between your fingers after enquiring as to your sword hand.

At noon, when your head had started to swim and your fingers cramped from copying out letters, there had been a hesitant knock at the door before Jote, the Phoenix’s attendant, entered, carrying a tray bearing a vial of medicine and some food.

“Your grace, forgive the interruption but it is time for your medicine,” she nods at the tray in her hands. “I also bid you do not overtire yourself with your tutoring.”

“Thank you, Jote. I assure you I am fine, but…” He pauses, watching you scribble out a poor attempt at the letter Q once more. “..I do believe that is probably enough for us to cover today, my student?”

“If that would be acceptable, m… Joshua.” You correct. “I do not wish to appear work shy.”

“Not at all. We have covered a fair amount this morning. Here,” he slides over some blank pieces of parchment, alongside your list of letters and another one with a single word on it. “Good tutors assign their students exercises. Practice your letters when you can, and try to say them aloud too. We can meet again tomorrow, if you’re available.”

You nod, “I can check in with Dorys and send word. Thank you.” You take up the papers in your hand, before pausing and pointing at the one with the single word upon it. “What’s this one?”

“That,” the Phoenix grins, charmingly, “is your name.”

--

More lessons pass, a little longer in nature as your hand adjusts, though a little spread out due to your Cursebreaker responsibilities. You’d been away two nights and word had been sent to Joshua for a lesson on your return.

You bid the blonde good morning before sitting down and retrieving a pile of papers from your pack with your other hand. “My apologies, I did complete the exercises whilst away, but we got caught in a storm and the parchment got a bit… soggy.” You slide the pitiful bundle of paper across the desk. It’s dried out now at least, but there’s patches of smudged ink on a few lines.

“I intended to re-do them before our lesson but, well…” You place your writing hand on the desk, revealing it to be bandaged up. “I can’t quite hold the quill. Tarja said it might be a few weeks before I could – sword hilt included, I must add. But I do hope this won’t hamper our lessons too badly.”

Joshua’s eyes widen and he takes your hand in gentle, inquisitive fingers. “What happened?”

“It was foolish of me. We were intercepting some Black Shields in Rosaria. I’d dropped my blade and one of theirs was aiming true for a Bearer. I panicked, I supposed, grabbed his blade with my hand and kicked him back.”

He winces at your tale. “May I take a look?”

“Erm, of course.” You watch as he deftly unwraps the bandage Tarja had re-wrapped this morning. Maybe he thought you were trying to get out of penmanship practice? He reaches your palm – black stitches hold the palm together, the cut thankfully clean rather than jagged.

“It looks painful.”

“I’ve had worse.” You reply, lightly. It’s true.

“I don’t know how much you have heard of the blessings the Phoenix provides.” He conjures a flame in his other hand, playing with it between his fingers. “One is the ability to heal, if you would permit me.”

“Oh, no.” You want to tug your hand back from his but slim fingers keep it firmly in place. “I would never ask that-”

“You haven’t, I have. May I? I would so like my favourite student to keep up her penmanship lessons.”

“Not if it causes you to suffer.”

“It won’t. Here.” He presses the flame into your palm and you brace yourself for a burn. A warm sensation envelopes your palm, like when you’ve warmed a blanket on the hearth in the ale hall, before an odd sort of feeling tickles over your palm. He removes his palm to reveal the line of thread Tarja had painstakingly sewed last night is free and not a mark remains on your palm.

“How does it feel?”

“Fine. But, Joshua, you’re meant to be resting, you shouldn’t have-“

“Do not fuss, please. It is my pleasure. I will, of course, let Tarja know of your miraculous recovery. Now,” he lets go of your hand at last, allowing you to pull it back and flex the fingers tenderly, and turns his attention back to the exercises you’d presented a few moments before. “You took these out with you?”

“Mm.” You nod, placing your hand back down in your lap before a thought crosses your mind. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked before I took them out of the Hideaway-”

“No, not at all.” The blonde chuckles. “They are yours to do with what you see fit. I am just surprised at the dedication to your studies.”

“I do not mean to waste your time. I know it’s not my finest work, but I didn’t want to show up empty-handed. I could re-do them now, I mean…”

“Relax. I can decipher these just fine, which means you can start on these, if your hand feels up to it. Try reading aloud as you copy, hm?” He slides over a new piece of parchment, filled with new words for the day.

You nod, eagerly, and pick up the quill.  

--

“We are not going to read all of those today, are we?” The pile is nearly up to Joshua’s shoulder on the desk.

“No,” he smiles. “It is my fault – I was in the shelves earlier looking for some practice material and some wanted to share their favourite literature with you. This one is Clive’s suggestion.”

He lifts up a couple and picks up the book in question, placing it down in front of you.

“The Saint And The Sec… Sectary…?”

“Very good.” Joshua’s praise always makes your head feel warm. “It’s a play, so be wary that if Clive sees you reading this, he’ll probably make you run lines with him. He always plays Sir Crandell.”

“Oh, and what role did you perform?”

“I never made the cut, sadly. I could never remember my lines well enough and Clive would not let you keep a script in hand.” He smiles at the memory. “This, however, was my favourite.”

He takes a book off the top of the pile and holds it out in front of him for you to read.

“The Merry Moogle And Other Tales.” You frown, the title ringing a bell. “They read this to the children for bedtime stories.”

“Are you mocking my tastes?”

“No!” You look alarmed. “I-“

“I jest – forgive me. It truly is one of my favourites and is, in fact, the first book I read by myself. It is a selfish pick, really, I am looking forward to going through it again, if you’d be so kind?”

“I can try.” He pushes the book in your direction before getting to his feet and lifting his chair, walking around the desk and placing it besides you.

“I hope you don’t mind – reading upside down is something I have yet to master.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine.” You feel flushed, is it possible the Phoenix just emits heat wherever he goes? He leans in, flipping open the book.

“Excellent. Begin, when you’re ready.”

You nod, swallowing.

“There… once was a very merry… moogle…”

--

More lessons pass, growing longer in their duration. Dorys appears to have you on duties within the Hideaway rather than out, but you don’t complain. Clive has even had to chase the two out of his chambers twice to hold discussions, though he had immediately clocked the copy of The Saint And The Sectary on the desk the first time, regaling how he made a fine Sir Crandell in his youth. Joshua had rolled his eyes at that point, causing you to laugh and Clive looking a little bemused before he’d waved the two of you out.

Far too soon, though, Joshua’s convalescence is nearly at an end, alongside word that the Enterprise is mostly repaired and ready its return journey to Ash and the Mothercrystal that resides there. You’re nervous for all who will be boarding, but especially your dear tutor.

You’re sat side by side in Clive’s chambers once more, trying to ignore the fact that Joshua’s thigh is pressing up against your own, and you’ve just finished reading a passage from The History of Valisthea. Joshua admitted it was perhaps a little dry, but he wanted you to experience all sorts of genres in his lessons.

“I can’t help but notice that your confidence has increased tenfold in reading aloud and I do not think it is solely down to having me as your captive audience. Care to share your secret?”

You bite your lip in a smile. “I’ve been… I’ve been reading to Torgal.”

“Oh?” Joshua smiles adoringly at you, prompting you to continue.

“I was a little self-conscious of practicing in the bunks, but there’s a bit of decking that overhangs the lake that I’d taken to. He started to join me – I think to nap away from the children. He usually sleeps through it, but I see his ears twitch, sometimes a tail wag… Apologies, that sounds foolish now I’ve actually said it aloud.”

“Not at all. We’ve always thought Torgal a fine hound, and he proves it more every day.”

Joshua then leans over and reaches for a bit of parchment over the other side of the desk.

“Now, the true test is whether you can read my everyday handwriting,” Joshua teases, handing it over to you.

“You have fine penmanship.” The words he notes down for exercises are always clear and easy to read.

“That is just for our exercises together. I’m afraid I fell into bad habits on the road. Scrawls, more than anything.” He nods at the parchment. “Aloud, if you may.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, squinting a little at first at Joshua’s cursive.

“Forgive me for putting you to the test with my hand, but I am confident that you will meet this challenge as you have throughout our studies thus far. I must confess I have enjoyed our time together, and I am disappointed to see it come to an end.”

You look up from the parchment, wondering if this is the last time you’d ever be within each other’s company. “I’ll miss our lessons too, Joshua.”

“There’s a little more, on the back.”

“Oh.” You turn the parchment over and continue. “However, now we are no longer tutor and student, I would like to ask one thing that I will simply regret if I do not. May I… kiss you?”

You stare at the word again a moment, before looking up at him. “Did I read that right?”

“Do not doubt yourself now.” He says, softly, maintaining eye contact.

“Then my answer is yes, you may.”

He places a hand on your scarred cheek as he leans forward, his other arm slipping around your waist to bring you in closer before your lips meet. It’s clumsy, you know it’s clumsy – you’ve never kissed anyone before – but prove yourself a quick learner again, your tongue finding entrance into his mouth and deepening the kiss.

The two of you pull away after a moment and Joshua leans his forehead against yours, keeping you pulled in close.

“I am afraid I have failed as your tutor on this occasion, my darling.”

“How so?” You ask, quietly.

“I am unable to come up with a word to aptly describe the feeling in my heart at finally having you in my arms.”

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

asking them if they’d get a 🍆/😽 piercing

ʚ incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, higuruma, shiu, ino, shoko, uraume

ʚ cont: suggestiveness, fluff, crack

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

feel the heat: newspaper club edition

mephistopheles turns to you in a moment of desperation.

pairing: mephistopheles x afab!reader

content: nsfw. explicit smut. poly!reader, demon heat/rut cycles mentioned. demon form!mephisto. derogatory language, cursing, sexting/dick pics, first time, frenemies to lovers.

word count: 3.3k

feel the heat series: the demon brothers | the royals edition

You passed Mephisto in one of the hallways of RAD long after classes ended for the day. You were on your way to the student council chambers, and you guessed he was on his way to the Newspaper Club office. He was distracted and walked right into you. He hissed when you made contact with his chest, and he skittered back like you burned him.

You're surprised by the anger in his eyes, but there’s sweat beading along his hairline and he’s panting. You recognize the dark haze clouding his vision, and you try not to stare at the outline of his half-hard cock in his pants. 

Your voice is almost shrill when you ask why he’s still on campus when he’s obviously unwell. He shouldn’t be here in his condition, and you tell him that, as kindly as you can.

He clenches his jaw and grits out that it’s none of your business.

Fair enough, but he’s the one who was stupid to come to campus like this. 

He looks insulted when you ask him if he has someone to help him with his little problem, and he glares at you. 

You offer to help him if he has no one else, and his stunned expression would be hilarious if it were any other circumstance.

He spits more venom at you about how you’re just some meddling human pest and how he wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty by touching you. He nearly shoves past you as he carries on to finish whatever’s brought him back to school in this very volatile state.

You’re not sure what to think, and you know your concern for him is unwanted. You stare at his back as he stalks away, but he doesn’t spare you another glance. He turns the corner and disappears from view, and you listen to the sound of his boot heels clicking on the floor until you hear nothing. It’s like he was never there; he leaves no trace of his presence behind except for the sting you feel from his rejection.

It’s a few hours later when you’ve settled in for the evening and try to forget what happened earlier. You’re watching a movie in your room when your phone buzzes beside you. You’re not sure who’s texting you at this late hour. It can’t be one of the demon brothers - they would just let themselves into your room if they wanted to see you.

You certainly don’t expect to see the name that flashes across your screen.

Mephistopheles: If I send a car for you, will you come?

You can’t contain the surprised laugh that bubbles out of you, because it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever said to you. Why would he do that now, after his scathing response to your offer earlier?

You point out how much of a hypocrite he’s being and ask what his problem is. He might be hot and you might want to get to know him better, but you also know that you deserve more respect than the less-than-bare minimum he’s shown you.

Mephistopheles: You’re annoying and you get on my nerves, and you’re stubborn and naïve and so painfully human it hurts to look at you. 

You: Okay…?

Mephistopheles: And I see the way you walk around RAD, sashaying those fucking hips. I hate the way your ass fills out your uniform. And you’re so clumsy! Do you constantly drop things so everyone has to see the way your perfect fucking tits strain the buttons of your blouse when you bend over?

Mephistopheles: Do you know how tempting it is to push you over a desk and fuck some sense into you when you’re too cheeky for your own good?

Mephistopheles: I’ve spent all fucking night thinking about your lips around my cock. I hate how much I want you.

Mephistopheles: I want you. I want—fuck.

Your eyes widen with each message he sends. Your throat’s gone bone-dry and suddenly it feels a little warm in your room.

His next message contains a photo. 

He’s laying on a bed in a dark room. He’s still in his RAD uniform, but his pants are loose around his hips and his fly is down. His hand - his bare hand, glove tossed aside carelessly - is wrapped around his cock. It looks painfully hard, and there’s a thick stream of cum dribbling from the tip. It looks like he’s come more than once already in an attempt to find relief on his own, like he has a craving only you can satisfy.

You wish you could tell him to fuck off and invest in a good fleshlight if he wants to get off so badly.

You wish you could forget about his filthy admittance of how he thinks about you while he jerks off, and how he’s practically begging you to come fuck his brains out.

You wish you could go to bed and forget this ever happened, but you know you’ll be fucking yourself on your fingers while you stare at the picture of his cock and regret not accepting this very tempting offer.

You wish you were stronger than this, but you’re not - not when you’ve wanted him for so long, and now he’s finally giving you a chance.

You: I’ll be waiting outside in five minutes.

Mephistopheles: The car is already on its way.

Arrogant prick, you think to yourself, but you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling.

The ride to Mephisto’s grand estate isn’t as awkward as you think it will be. The car he promised arrives moments after you step outside, and the driver says nothing about your attire when he opens the door for you. You’re still wearing the t-shirt and loose sleep pants you planned to wear to bed. You didn’t see any point in dressing up for the occasion - you won’t be wearing your clothes for long, anyway.

When you arrive, the driver opens the door and offers you his hand. He tells you where you can find Mephisto - up the main staircase, the room at the end of the hall to your left. The house is quiet and you don’t see or hear anyone else, but you assume his family is giving him space and privacy to deal with his heat how he sees fit.

(You’re not sure you want to introduce yourself as his booty call when you’re wearing pajamas, so you think it’s for the best.)

It wouldn’t be difficult to find his room even without directions. When you reach the second floor, the air feels thick around you, like a warm fog. Mephisto’s natural scent and the spicy traces of his cologne grow stronger with each step you take and it leads you right to his bedroom door. 

You can hear the faint sound of bed springs squeaking inside his room and animalistic grunts that punctuate the rhythmic slick stroking sounds of skin-against-skin. The noises stop abruptly when you knock. There’s a rumbling purr just on the other side of the door, and when it opens suddenly, he pulls you inside.

Mephisto crowds your back against the door and it slams shut behind you. He’s still wearing his uniform slacks, but at some point he removed his shirt. His bare chest is sweaty, and his belly and pelvis are slick from when he jerked himself off for relief before you arrived. He’s never looked so sloppy before, but there's something gratifying about seeing the real him and not the perfect, superior demon he pretends to be.

You brush your hand through his sweat-soaked hair to sweep it away from his eyes, and he groans and leans into your touch. He buries his face into the crook of your neck while his hands explore your body over your clothes. He sniffs at your skin like he’s trying to breathe you into his lungs, and he licks over your pulse point.

“You came,” his lust-thickened voice rumbles close to your ear, and your shiver while you stroke his naked back.

“I did.”

He leans stares into your eyes. They’re blown black with lust, but you feel seen by him. “S-stay?” he stutters like he’s having difficulty speaking, but you know what he’s really asking you.

“As long as you want me to,” you murmur before you lean forward to kiss him gently, almost nervously because you’re not sure if he’ll reject you even in his heat. But he doesn’t - he leans into the kiss and whimpers against your lips before he pulls away.

One of his hands slides under the waistband of your pajama bottoms, and you gasp when two of his fingers drag across your slit. You didn’t realize how soaked you were until he touched you. His fingers stroke between your entrance and your clit, not focused on pleasuring you exactly, but more likely he’s surprised - and flattered - that you want him this badly.

“So wet,” he moans against your skin, and he grinds his cock against you, making a total mess of your shirt. 

You can’t help but breathe out an airy chuckle as his fingers continue to stroke you. “You have a filthy mouth on you when you’re horny,” and you cup his cheek. He huffs in amusement but doesn’t deny it.

He explores you a little more, but then he withdraws his hands from between your legs abruptly. You nearly whine at the lost contact, but he holds his fingers up for both of you to see. They’re glistening with your slick and the smell of your arousal hangs heavy in the air between you. You would be embarrassed if not for the way Mephisto sniffs the air and licks his lips. He holds your gaze as he pops his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

You bite your lip to keep from moaning, but it doesn't completely silence the aroused noise you make. He’s filthy and gorgeous, and his mouth hangs open like he still can’t believe you’re really here. His eyes lack the bitter disapproval he normally shows you, and you know that at least for tonight, he wants you just the way you are.

In a sudden wave of confidence, you reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head quickly. You let it drop to the floor, and you try not to squirm too much when his hungry gaze trails down your body so he can stare at your breasts. He reaches for you and cups each of them in his large palms. His touch is gentle and exploratory, and he sighs while he squeezes the soft flesh. He pinches one of your nipples and you gasp. His eyes snap back to yours, and he does it again; you arch your back into his touch, a silent plea for more.

He steps closer and bends his head low so he can lick at your breasts. He swirls his tongue around each of your nipples and you cradle his head to your chest so he knows you like it. He draws one hardened nipple between his lips and sucks on it gently, and he pinches the other with his fingers.

It’s a wonderfully delightful sensation of pleasure with just the hint of pain, especially when he pinches too hard when you moan loudly into his ear. He hums around your nipple just to see if you’ll moan for him again - of course you do - and he growls his satisfaction. One of his fangs brushes against the sensitive skin of your breast, and you know he won’t hurt you, but the reminder of his demonic nature and inherent power leaves you breathless.

Desire rolls off him in waves, but you’re on the verge of begging him to fuck you. His cock throbs and twitches against your hip when he grinds against you, and you know you’re dripping-wet for him. His earlier teasing did nothing to quell the throb of your clit and you feel desperate for some kind of friction. Every time he moans or grunts as he fondles your body or plays with your breasts, your walls clench uselessly around nothing.

He grins when he realizes your growing desire mirrors his own. His mouth trails between the valley of your breasts and up your neck. The path is littered with tiny marks he's nibbled or sucked into your skin. His hands slide under the waistband of your pants and over the curve of your ass. He gropes you, squeezing and kneading your body greedily, and he drags you closer. 

“Need you,” his deep voice rasps against your ear. As soon as you nod because you need him too, he slides your pants over your hips so they fall down your legs and pool at your feet. You step out of them gingerly and head towards his bed, but you realize he isn’t following you.

The question you're about to ask dies in your throat when you look over your shoulder. He’s standing eerily still by the door, and his eyes are staring at you so intently that you feel vulnerable. His hungry gaze roams up and down your body, and you can see his eyes linger on your face, your breasts, and the mound between your legs. You guess that strange feeling of being watched a few moments ago was him staring at your ass, too. 

Mephisto loosens his pants so they fall down his legs, then he slides his boxer briefs off too. He straightens and rolls his shoulders. There’s a hum of energy and within the blink of an eye, his horns and tail have emerged. You try not to gape openly at his demonic form but you’ve never seen him properly before.

He’s beautiful, and you want him.

You sit on the edge of his bed, and you both stare at each other. His tail flicks behind him and you can hear him purring deep within his chest. You spread your legs wide and ignore the way embarrassment burns your cheeks. He moves quicker than your eyes can track, and he’s suddenly standing between your legs and staring down at you with so much hunger you can hardly breathe.

He leans forward and clasps your shoulders with his hands, and he urges you to lay down. His hands trail over your body and he slides them under the curve of your ass and up your thighs. He maneuvers your body how he wants you until your legs dangle over his shoulders. You’re utterly trapped beneath him while he kneels on the edge of the mattress.

One of his hands holds your hips down to keep you steady while the other guides his cock through your folds. He drags himself up and down your slit, and you moan quietly when he brushes across your clit with the slightest bit of pressure. He does it again, and you whimper.

“Please,” you whisper, and you’re reduced to begging now. You were promised a thorough fucking, and you feel like you’re about to lose your mind.

He’s the one in heat. He’s the one that should be begging to be fucked, not you.

There’s something predatory in the way he tilts his head and watches you beg for his cock, and his body grows completely still. When he snarls and buries himself to the hilt in one rough stroke, you choke on your cry as your body stretches around his cock.

Oh, you never should have doubted him.

He's relentless when he fucks you, and his pace is fast and brutal. He takes you with powerful strokes that punch the air from your lungs. The rough drag of his cock brushing over that spot inside you has you keening every time he thrusts inside with a sharp snap of his hips.

His eyes are nearly eclipsed by his blown black pupils and he pants loudly from the exertion and pleasure of finally claiming you. His bedroom fills with the wet, obscene sounds of his skin slapping against yours and your wet hole squelching around his cock.

He can’t seem to decide where he wants to look. His eyes flicker between your mouth and your bouncing breasts, then he finally looks down so he can watch his cock glide in and out of your body. His cock is coated in your creamy slick, and he growls with satisfaction when he sees your arousal leak from your hole and spread messily across your skin. 

He’s gripping your thigh so tightly that you think - you hope - his fingertips will leave bruises later. His other hand guides your hip back and forth in time with his thrusts so he can bury himself deeper every time his cock slams inside you. 

Your hands are clenched in his sheets. You’re powerless to do anything else but arch your back and cry your pleasure while he fucks through the haze of his heat.

His movements grow more desperate and he's losing his rhythm - you think he’s getting close. He’s still staring at the junction between your bodies, mesmerized by the sight of his cock claiming you over and over and over. 

Your clit throbs as your own desire threatens to consume you, and you reach down with one hand so you can stroke yourself in time with his thrusts. You tilt your head back and your moans grow louder, and you start chanting his name breathlessly as pleasure courses through your veins. Your fingers massage your clit faster because you’re so close you can almost taste it. Your body shakes, but he’s holding you so desperately that it keeps you grounded. You feel your walls flutter around him as the first waves of your release start to crash over you—

A loud growl startles you, and you open your eyes and stare up at him. He was watching himself fucking his cock into you with abandon; now, his heady gaze is locked onto yours. His body is trembling nearly as much as yours is, and he grits his teeth and bares his fangs at you. 

“Come for me,” he rasps, "come on my cock." It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard, and there’s no possible way you can deny him that, not when you’re still touching yourself and you’re right there on the edge—

He fucks you through your orgasm, delaying his own pleasure so he can revel in the feeling of your walls squeezing him even tighter than before. You let your hand fall away from your clit, and you blink at him with watery eyes and pouty lips. He finally spills himself inside you, claiming the deepest parts of your body for himself. He pants loudly as his hips come to a stuttering halt and the aftershocks of your orgasm milk his cock dry.

You feel exhausted and weightless and pleasantly full. You raise your arms high over your head and arch your back into a delightful stretch. The sweat on your back makes his sheets stick to your skin, and you squirm a bit on his cock. You gasp when you realize he’s still completely hard inside you, and his grip on your body tightens when you try to shimmy away.

“More,” he mutters harshly under his breath, and his smirk turns feral. His eyes are still black and hazy from his heat. He reaches for your hand and guides it back down between your legs. He laces his fingers through yours and slides them through your sticky, wet folds. Your fingertips graze the base of his cock that’s still sheathed inside you and he moans. He moves your hand back up to brush against your clit and he moves his hand away when you start touching yourself again.

You exhale a shaky sigh and rub lazy circles around your sensitive clit. He looks so pleased with your obedience that it makes your cheeks burn from his unspoken praise.

He can't kiss you in this position, but he turns his head and nips at the skin of your leg still draped over his shoulder. It feels like a filthy, silent promise that he'll never go through his heat again without you.

He starts rocking back into you, slower and more gently than before, and you roll your hips to encourage him. You whimper his name and he starts to move in earnest.

It's not long before he consumes you once again, and all you can see and feel and hear is him.

read more: mephistopheles masterlist | obey me! masterlist

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(Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Higuruma, Ino)