Spill
joe goldberg x gender neutral reader [ anatomy specific ]
18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni
> joe goldberg's internal dialogue
tags / warnings ; dead dove do not eat, "canon" joe, stalking, breaking and entering, voureism, somnophilia, noncon themes, masturbation, glove/latex play, reader has vagina, fourth wall breaks/unreality
summary ; hello you. im glad youre reading so much, you always know how to make my head spin.
word count ; 2.1k
a / n ; i absolutely love writing for joe! this was a concept i really wanted to mess around with, id highly suggest minding the tags and also minding the fact i write for joe out of pure morbid fun, not for fanservice! so proceed with caution of nonconsenual themes and general creepy behvior. But hey if you think most fics on here aren't in character, heres my doing my best to change that! mwa
You were right, this is... Different. I knew you liked writing. Maybe, not into literature as much as I am, but despite all my attempts at forcing your nose into a hardcover, it was precious. How cagey you were about your writing. I can see it now, that screen pressed flat to your chest, ashamed. You know I know, you have to. Your eyes are resting on the television in front of you as if you weren't thumbing your keyboard like a rabid animal just a few moments ago. What are you inspired by? Surely not the takeout, long cooled, sitting on the coffee table. But still, I like this game. I know it won't last long, and I know you'll cave into it - Into me.
Digital writing, not as much of a discrepancy to the world as I got to know you, got used to reading novels over your shoulder. I couldn't resist, not while you slept so beautifully, so deep in your dreams you wouldn't notice - No, not my business. I'm a good man, you need a good man; But trust is one thing, you caging your phone from me is another. Why are you protecting it like a live wire? One look then, just one.
Your attempt at a password is precious, did you know that? Biometrics, new school, even for me, but you couldn't part ways with your dearest number code. Clogged, different apps, the colors assaulted my eyes when you insisted on showing me a book you were looking for at Mooney's- You were thrilled when you did. My eyes will adjust. Now what app was it? I could feel the gray in my hair illuminating at the thought, but you refused to let me get too hasty over it when we met; I think you like it. Nothing too far gone in your notes app, aside from the occasional single words with nothing else. Do you ever clean out this garbled junk? Searching, and more and there it is, a little blue square, white T.
Navigating these things is not my expertise. I can feel the crows feet on my face blinking a flashing target on my back; I'm getting too old for this, but moving to your account, searching under 'drafts' pauses the train of thought. My name, pasted between filthy words - Did you write this? Legs, thighs, arousal; My heart is jamming, and I can't deny the sigh of relief breaching my lips. I glance down at you, still sleeping soundly beside me, your breathing even and soft. I'm the nice man at the bookstore, but you're twisting me around in your mind right now, aren't you? Are you dreaming of me? I glue my eyes back to the screen, resisting the physical urge to put a hand onto your warm body. You know I'm here, don't you? Stories, after stories - My hand on your throat, you crave this? The feeling of my heartbeat against your back, while I ravage you, fingers tangled in your hair, breathless. I can imagine it, just how you write it; It's not your fault you can't write me perfectly, but just seeing my name repeated, over and over, folded into your fantasies? You know me well enough to know I want you, well enough to know you drive me insane - Was this all on purpose? I try to be a decent man, a good man. And you trip into the reopening of Mooney's, small talk; That's all it was, but you knew.
Well. You... are a pervert, and trust me, I've seen everything; Describing my body? My cock, the weight and warmth of me in your mouth - Is it the writing, or the imagination that takes your breath when you touch yourself? The feeling of typing my name, writing it over and over like a mantra. I can picture you reading them, phone flush to your body, breathing wavering as you read over the words you wrote. You deny the real feeling, the feelings between us, but you can feel it. The pulse rushing from the words on your phone screen straight to your thighs; Fuck, why are you making me do this? Did you want to get me hard? This wasn't a part of the plan, and surely you know that. We've hardly even met, exchanged pleasantries. But I know you, now. The real you, I can see it now. Right now.
Hello, you. Reading more? I'm glad - I mean it, really, you know the nagging of the man at the bookstore is one thing, but you'll get used to the classics once you're mine. Really mine. Once I can wrap my arms around you while you sleep, once these aren't just fantasies; Some of these things are extreme, even for me, but you want someone who will do anything for you. A man who can thrust a blade to your throat, make you gasp for air, but also protect you from this evil world. It was irresponsible, but I'll remind you when you're mine to lock the windows before you sleep. For now, I've never been more thankful you're so forgetful - It's sweet. Your room is comfortable, breathable, and sharing your air is intoxicating. Can't you hear me breathing? Hovering beside you, watching over your most vulnerable and beautiful state? You're lucky to have me. Could you imagine if some random man broke into your bedroom at night? I'm here to protect you, protect our fantasy, you have no idea we share. I can't wait to come through the front door to see you after work, no more hiding under your bed, I promise. Unless you ask for it, of course. I'd do anything for you.
Joe's hand falls down over his body, the rustle wrenching a wince from his throat. Quiet, he reminds himself. His gloved hand white knuckled your phone as he palmed his cock. Sweat beads down the side of his jaw, the description of your perversions riding on the line of obscene - And he loved every moment of it. His breath shuddered, eyes dancing between the words on your screen and your sleeping frame. The thought of pulling back the covers, exposing your warmth to the sting of cold, his latex-gloved hands rolling over the soft of your stomach. Joe's shaking hand fumbled with his belt, the metallic click sending a shudder through your unconscious body. You shuffled slightly, kicking away the sheets; It was hot, the little knowledge of another occupant in your bed not reaching your subconscious. He broke the seam of his underwear, sweat sticking his pants to the apex of his thighs, pulling down just enough to free his throbbing cock. He hissed, the feeling of the latex glove on his shaft a sick reminder of this encounter; Unaware, but knowing more than you ever could. Choking back a grunt, he swallowed hard, squeezing at the tip of his cock. A bead of precum pearled at the slit, and Joe's heart staggered in his chest, thumb scrolling over your phone. He had been drooling, allowing the pool to spill into his glove before reaching down once again - He felt like an insatiable high schooler, dark eyes lulling half lidded between you and your fantasies on full display. Joe began slowly, imaging the vivid sight of splitting your cunt; You described it already, he didn't need to worry about supplementing his desires, or risk his saftey with tugging your at sheets and sleepshirt. Surely you know I'm here. Fuck, you feel amazing.
Joe hitched his hips upwards; He wanted to pound you into your squeaky mattress, crawl through the spaces of your room he so neatly memorized - All this for you, all of him for you. His chest tightened with a moan, head falling back ever so slightly, cock pulsing as his spiral fell deeper, darker. Joe shut his eyes, your phone falling onto his lap as he planted a hand over his mouth.
God dammit, you're tight. He could practically hear the swell of your moan, pitching to a whine as he reached the hilt. Relishing in the purely euphoric feeling of your cunt around him - He craved it, like an animal he trained to stay quiet, subservient. He groaned into his palm, panting softly as he stroked himself, wanting nothing more than the hot feeling of your cunt around him. Please, I've been good. I've played nice. Even while you read this now, you know how much I've resisted these things about myself - But you take pleasure in them. It horrifies me in every way imaginable, makes my stomach turn; I should be disgusted by the things you want from me. And here I am at the mercy of your body, your power over me palpable in your bedroom. The smell of you is surrounding me, suffocating me.
Joe stifles another moan, less hidden than he'd like. The veins of his cock surge, his chest swelling with the smell and taste of the air only you breathe. He wants to taste all of you, your hips grinding your cunt down onto his greedy tounge, your blood from a nick in the kitchen. Everything you could create, he wanted, needed. He sighed through gritted teeth into his gloved palm, teeth now clenching at the black latex. Why do you have to make this all so fucking difficult? I want to be what you need, not just a fantasy; We're more than a fantasy, you wouldn't come looking for me like this if it wasn't true - Does that scare you? That I can see you, all of you, the parts you obscure from your peers and family, and still love you the same? Fuck, you're going to ruin me, just the sound of your breathing gets me off.
Joe arched his back into his fist, chest quivering with a threat to let his voice spill. Clamping tight over his mouth, his eyes parted open to find your sleeping body; You rolled onto your back a few moments ago, arms tucked close to your chest. You were peaceful, unaware of the violation happening just inches away, in your own bed. The sight of it was obscene in Joe's mind, teeth breaking the thin barrier of latex as he clenched his jaw, feverishly stroking his cock. His sweat dripped from his jaw and chin, lips pursed as he focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Your lips, soft and parted, glossy with a smear of drool. I could do anything to you right now. And the idea of that makes your heart thrum - Is that not real? Real, true, romantic and fucked up love? I want to drown in you, taste every inch of your body and bare my soul to you. Joe tilts his head back, eyes glued to your face, his pace unwavering as the hot binding of his senses came to a rushing pulse. He bucked his hips, shuddering and making your bed squeak, spilling his cum into his hand and thighs. He couldn't tear his eyes from you, stroking himself more, somehow pushing past the peak. He frantically, sloppily used his cum as more lubricant, knawing into the latex of his glove. You would be so proud of my restraint - I want to follow every line of this, twist your fantasies into your reality until you can't tell why you crave me the way you do. I want to be in your dreams, to take up every one of your senses until I can call you mine; You already did these all for me, infected my dreams and urged my heart to keep you safe. Joe let a whimper pry from his throat as he came a second time, eyes rolling back at the image of you pleading on your knees for him. This time the rattle of your bed stirred your peace, Joe's shaking body just inches away. He just couldn't stop, the thrill sending a shockwave racketeering through his veins as your expression changed. Just a soft furrow of your brow, a soft hum passing your lips as you sighed, shuffling your legs. But it was enough to keep Joe on the edge, eyes pinning you to the spot as he slowed his strokes. The sloppy mess dripped over the knuckles of his gloved hand, staining the black fabric of his pants. His hips continued to tense at a steady pace, tongue clamped between his top and bottom set of teeth. Just one more, I deserve it, and you're loving this. Joe rubbed the tip of his thumb over his sensitive tip, lips parting with a painfully pleasured expression; He had to stay silent, he kept reminding himself. Though the obscene wet sound of his fist slick against his cock, in your bedroom, was more than he needed to finish a third time. His mind was numb, the smell of your sweat, the taste of the air you breathe - So much of you, all at once. The air was thick with Joe's heavy breathing, unsteady as he stood up from your bed, body still quaking with the ghost of pleasure. He pried alcohol wipes from his duffel bag, still catching his breath as he leaned down, beginning to wipe away any cum left on his pants. He can leave a thing out of place, underwear can go missing, but he refused to leave evidence of nights like these.
A weak moment, he told himself as he set your phone back down onto your bedside, resting every urge in his body to lean down and kiss your forehead. He let his eyes linger on you as he slowly zipped his small duffel bag, new items to keep nestled deep within the pockets. You wouldn't notice they were missing. Joe smiled softly at the thought, shaking his head as he moved back to his feet.
One day, I'll leave you something to find. You'd love that, and knowing that for a fact is something that will just make our love stronger. I'll be back tomorrow night, we have a date, now that you've given me so many new ideas.