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tothosewhoyearnforit · 1 year ago

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stress relief - itzy yeji

-word count: 3245 words (longest to date :D)

-the yeji fic from many weeks ago. i finally finished it. i have something special that's nearly done. (i promise this time. it was a collection of spare time over a few months)

-dom!yeji, aggresive blowjob, riding, doggystyle, sweaty sweaty sweaty, facial

The stale stench of the air conditioned office clung onto you as you entered the bar.

Being in the bar was the last place you’re supposed to be this month. After just receiving a promotion at your workplace, the workload placed on you gradually kept snowballing to a point of no return. But you couldn’t just give up. Well, first of all, you really needed this job. It paid well, now that you had the promotion. Furthermore, times are changing, there really isn’t very good job stability now and getting fired and being “free” was not to be an option.

You should’ve been at home, working and completing the reports due next Monday and getting ready for the presentation on Wednesday. Then taking note of all the shipments and settling the deal with the customer from Italy. But eh, it was a Friday, one night wouldn’t hurt right ?

Or so you thought.

Three quarters through your drink, at around what was probably 11pm, a show begins.

The lights were cut for a brief moment, before spotlights focused onto the pole in the middle of the room. And out comes 5 gorgeous vixen clad in jet black costumes. Then, the music cues.

Guess who loves you, naya na.

It’s a really, really catchy song and it made the atmosphere super stiff, as if all five of the women were demanding attention and silence as they performed.

Do I show you? Noya-no.

Okay, this is actually really good music. And good lord those women are gorgeous.

Ajik time-i anya nan

Jom deo gakkai jom deo gakkai geureoda gapjagi ssak

The choreography too, jesus christ.

But in particular, one of the women is catching your eye. The way her luscious firey orange hair, jewelry embedded within, moves in perfect tandem with her body, which by the way, is absolutely killing it. Every single dance move, to the smallest body pop, is quite literally perfect. Flawless. She’s wearing a sleeveless top and it’s really turning you on. Her arms are so gracious, and you’d love to feel them all over your body. Her collarbones and neck, they’d look so much better with your lovemarks on them. And the little bit of breast peeking out from the top. It’s more than enough to get your heart racing, and you take another sip of your icy cold drink to properly brace yourself for whatever they have left in store.

Imma steal it mameul humcheo

You are gonna love me.

That’s absolutely incorrect. You’re more than loving them, you’re fucking captivated by them.

Gyeoljeongjeogil ttae ippareul deureonaeneun type

And suddenly, the orangehead takes the stage.

The lyrics become an absolute blur to your ears as all your mind is fixated on is the absolutely stunning woman. God, she fucking looks like a cat too. Those damn fucking eyes are so… succubus like. And after twirling her fingers in your direction, she suddenly does a slut drop, squatting while spreading her legs apart. Now your eyes are staring at her milky thighs that are on full display under the spotlight. A million things are running through your mind right now, and none of them was related to your work life in any sort of way.

You’ll never know.

Her left thigh moves,snapping you out of your momentary hypnosis and your eyes quickly dart back up and you see her staring at you, a smirk dashed across her face.

The rest of the song plays on but your mind is now playing that same slut drop moment over and over again. Eventually, the song ends and all 5 of the women are panting, sweat starting to collect at their foreheads. They retreat behind the stage quickly and the rest of the club goes on like the performance of their lives didn’t just happen.

Give or take 10 minutes, you are on the way back from a toilet trip. At your table, you are greeted with a very much welcome surprise. The same fiery haired girl is sitting in the seat opposite of yours, watching you make your way back to your seat.

“Hey there oppa.” Her voice is a knife full of confidence, laced with venom.

“H-hey. Nice performance out there.” You grab your drink again, needing a punch of ice to hide your nervousness. But it’s so hard to maintain composure, especially when your eyes are looking at everything but her own cat eyes.

“I know. You clearly enjoyed it. Or rather, you enjoyed me.”

“Was I really that obvious?” That was definitely the alcohol talking. You would have said something like “Sorry” or “I didn’t mean to.”, but no, you were playing the fool, like an absolutely rizzless bastard.

“My group has 5 members, yet every time I moved position, your gaze was glued onto me.”

“Well, you are really, really hot.”

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Bring the glass to your mouth again, shit. It’s fucking empty.

“So, what’s a young office worker doing in our bar?” She asks, elbows on the table, her head supported by her cupped hands as she leans in.

“Well, to be fair, I walked in thinking it was a regular bar. I just needed a drink to take my mind off of work.”

“Are we not a regular bar? Anything special about this bar?” She asks, clearly trying to poke at you, like a cat playing with a ball of yarn.

You take another awkward sip of your drink, which was just melting ice at this point.

The conversation continues hazily and you guys chat for what must be hours until the distance between both your faces was probably the size of your drink.

“Can't imagine how stressed you must be.” Her right hand falls into your left, fingers tracing your forearm as she whispers. “Want to get out of here? I’ll get rid of all your stress for you…”

Ah, an offer you couldn't refuse. Now that’s some business I don't mind getting done right now.

“Say less… Um, I didn't catch your name?”

“Name’s Yeji. Don't worry oppa, you're gonna be moaning my name all night.”

And in a flash, you're both out of the club and in your car. You don't waste a single second. Foot on the pedal and you're on the streets of Seoul, zipping past the buildings of the city.

Yeji, in the meantime, has other plans.

She takes your hand, and places it on her thigh. You can feel her gaze, waiting to see what your next move is. Were you gonna retract your hand and focus on getting home quick and safely? Or were you gonna start the study of Yeji’s body right then and there?

Obviously the latter.

Your hand roams around the silky smooth skin of hers. Pinky occasionally dipping into the gaps in her pants and rubbing against her inner thigh. You hear Yeji suck in a deep breath, the horniness evidently getting to her.

Fuck, fucking red light!

You seize the opportunity to look at Yeji, she’s now grinding against your exploring hand and you can't help but sneak a finger into her pussy.

Green light. And your foot is back on the pedal. Finally, you reach the last turn into your apartment.

As soon as you get out of the car and into the elevator, Yeji pounces on you. Your hands catch onto her thighs for stability. Your lips crash against one another, her teeth biting your lower lips.

Ding. Elevator door opens.

Door. Open. Bedroom. Bed.

No time to even register a logical sequence of actions. You toss her against your bed. Yeji is now a panting sweaty mess, but it doesn't matter. She looks even more gorgeous with the thin layer of sweat across her skin. Collarbones, arms and armpits glistening with sweat. You pin her hands above her head and nibble on her neck. Then, tongue out, you start collecting the sweat, from her armpit, across her chest and then from the middle of her neck to behind her ear, where you whisper, “You taste fucking amazing.”

“I know.”

You reach behind and pull down the zipper leading right to her tailbone, then help the foxy girl out of the one piece top. You pause for a moment to take in the sight before you. A smoking hot dancer is lying on your bed in nothing but a strapless bra and a thin black thong and some knee high boots. Yeji’s body is fucking picture perfect. Tight midriff, perky breasts, juicy thighs, not to mention her pretty face.

“Let me put on a show oppa. Just for you.”

She gets off the bed and you take her spot on the edge of the bed. Yeji turns around and takes off the bra, placing it on the ground next to her. Then, she bends over, putting her perky ass on display for you as she pulls off the lacy thong from her slender toned legs.

“You know, I should charge extra for this performance.”

You wouldn’t mind paying any amount to see this performance if you were being honest.

“Boots on or off oppa ?”

“On.”

Yeji then smiles, tosses her thong onto your face, allowing you to grab a deep whiff of her sex. In front of you, Yeji is back in her slut drop position, but this time it’s even more erotic because she’s wearing nothing but the boots. Her pussy is on full display as she spreads her legs open, with just a little bit of hair going down the middle.

“Fuck, Yeji…” Your cock was throbbing within the confines of your pants with her tiny little strip show.

“Told you you’d be moaning my name.”

Yeji then straddles your lap, looks into your eyes while unbuttoning your shirt.

“Let’s get all that stress out of your body, oppa. Think about nothing but me, okay?”

“You don’t even need to ask Yeji-ah.”

You pepper her neck with kisses as she peels your shirt off. She then lowers herself, hands grazing across your body, down to your pants which she pulls down. Finally free, Yeji purrs when she sees your length.

“Wow, it's huge, oppa. Can’t wait for it to be deep inside my pussy.”

She gathers some spit on her hand and uses that same hand to stroke your cock, taking a cold fingertip across your sensitive tip each time she reaches your head. Each swipe across sent you nine realms ahead. It wasn’t clear if it was the alcohol or Yeji’s pure skill at this, but all you could hear was the loud hammering of your heartbeat. Or maybe that was the lewd sound of her saliva being spread over your length. Then, after spontaneously deciding that your cock was ready for the onslaught that was to come, Yeji pushes both your legs off the ground and onto her shoulders and lets the front portion of your cock rest in her mouth. Your balance is shifted. You’re now staring at the ceiling, stimulation after stimulation speeding down your nerves from your cock to your brain. You feel her mouth bobbing up and down on your length, her skillful tongue working its way across its veiny landscape. You try to will yourself to get up to watch the spectacle happening before your eyes but the pleasure drags you the fuck back down and all you can do in response is let out weary breaths and sinful moans while your toes curl and leg muscles spasm.

And your cock isn’t even all the way through.

Yeji plunges her head down like a vulture diving into the carcass of a dead buffalo, and you feel that sharp nose of hers bump into your pelvis. The sudden action takes you by surprise and, from god knows where this submissiveness came from, you arch your back and let out a sound that you swear to never to make again. You feel saliva coating your nutsack now but when Yeji slowly removes her mouth from your cock, letting the cool wind graze your cock, all you want to do is beg Yeji to put your cock back inside her mouth. But that need not be done, because as you have a brief moment to register the influx of sensations, she hungrily goes back down onto you. Her prey. You would kill to see her eyes right now, staring straight into your own as she watches you submit to her. But then again, from the amount of noise you were making, it was pretty evident that she had you in the palm of her hand. It was just twice. Just twice that the whole length of your cock was engulfed by her mouth, but it drived you to the absolute edge and you felt like your first load was about to come.

“Fuck, Yeji. I- I- I’m gonna fucking…”

Maybe you shouldn’t have given her the verbal cue. Because just as you feel the gates of heaven about to open, she quickly withdraws. The feeling of the climax fading away throughout your crotch. You look at her with a face of discontent, displeasure and anger.

“Can’t have you busting so soon,” she says, chuckling to herself as she climbs over your vulnerable naked body after kicking off her boots, rubbing circles on her slickening pussy. “I'll let you cum deep down my throat some other time.”

She climbs over you and hovers above your crotch. Grabbing your stimulated, twitching cock in one hand, she lines it up with the folds of her pussy and in one fell swoop, with no prior warning that she was going to go all the way down in one shot, she sits on your pelvis, practically impaling her pussy with your cock.

“Anggh! Fuck!” A sharp, shrill moan of pleasure erupts from her mouth as her ass rests on your pelvis. Your hands wondrously find their way to her toned sweaty thighs, grazing the muscle on it in pure wonder and amazement.

“You’re so fucking hot Yeji ah, and so freaking tight!” The fiery redhead doesn’t say a word, but she continues the ride. Hands on your pectoral muscles, Yeji displays her body isolation skills learned from dance. Her gaze fixes onto yours once again as she moves her hips up and down and you can only imagine what her ass looks like as it does this motion. But imagination always becomes reality when Yeji is around. The sexual chemistry between the two of you is just perfect, or maybe Yeji just knows what you so desperately want but is too shy to voice out. She turns around, her hands resting on your legs this time as she does the same vertical wave motion with her hips once again. Her beautiful butt is like a hypnotic pendulum, your eyes fixed on the gorgeous peach in front of you, it’s just irresistible to slap. And so you do.

Slap!

“Angh!” Crimson locks of hair get flung up into the air as Yeji throws her head back in response.

You bring a palm down on the flesh and watch how it ripples in response, a red handprint faintly appearing at the spot that was struck. Such a goddamn vixen. Is the only thought that runs through your mind, perhaps the only thought that has been running through your mind the entire night as soon as you laid your eyes on the foxy woman. Her pulsing butthole intrigues you as her hips work their magic, and you can’t help but take your index finger, and slowly slide it into her puckered hole. As your finger snakes its way in, her anal walls clamp down on it until your whole finger up till your knuckle has been engulfed.

“Holy shit! Just like that oppa! Stuff both my holes up!”

You withdraw your finger and this time, using both your index and middle finger, you embark on yet another tight fit into her anal cavity. Yeji’s hips start to slow down as she reaches the pinnacle of her stimulation.

“Fuck-ah! Cumming!”

Her body convulses violently and you feel her muscles contract around your submerged fingers and your cock. You give her alluring buttcheeks another firm slap that echoes throughout the darkness of the night and watch as she slowly climbs off of you.

“You haven’t cum yet oppa…”, she whines, still in her lustful trance. “And my pussy is still yearning for a good pounding.” She wiggles her hindparts in front of you in a doggy position, spreading her pussy lips for you to see. You line yourself up behind her, give that gorgeous ass of hers another firm slap before sending your cock back into its rightful embrace.

“Oh fuck…” Your cock’s reentering of Yeji’s tight pussy is like getting back into the swimming pool after being exposed to the cool air for too long. Warm. Wet. Refreshing. Her vaginal muscles are still so full of vigor despite having just came, almost as if they were desperately trying to wring you dry. Her scarlet nails dug into the bedsheets as you picked up a steady pace of thrusting your hips. From the back, you bunched up her fiery hair into a makeshift ponytail while your other hand rested nicely on her hip.

“That’s it! Fuck me harder! Use me as your fucking stress relief toy oppa!” That entire dialogue was more than a green light to you. Tightening your core to its limits, you picked up the pace, slamming your hips ever so desperately, with Yeji letting out a raspy moan with every smack that reverberated throughout the night.

“Holy- Angh! FUCK! I’m gonna cum oppa! I’m gonna fucking cum!” Yeji cries out. Her pussy constricts around your cock for the second time of the night, this time an erotic geyser of squirt ensues, covering your thighs in her slick. Your own orgasm starts to surface. Pulling out of her pussy, you flip Yeji onto her back and climb over her. You point your cock at her and aggressively jerk yourself off to the finish line.

“That's it. Cum for me. Cover me in your cum oppa. Paint your slut in-”

Yeji is interrupted by streaks and streaks of cum erupting from your cock in what must be your biggest orgasm to date, painting her sharp features, her chin, nose and eyes. The sweaty, panting mess sticks out her sharp tongue in an attempt to collect some food samples.

“Oh, fuck… Yeji ah.” is all you manage to squeeze out as the last drops of your semen land on her face.

“Gosh, you sure came a lot.”

You collapse beside her, both of you sweaty messes. “What can I say? I had a lot of stress pent up inside me.”

Yeji gets up, and walks away from the bed. You still lay there, utterly spent, watching her hypnotizing body sway from left to right.

“Where are you going?”

“To the shower you dummy.”

A brief moment of silence follows as you are unsure of how to reply. Do you join her? Maybe she’s tired and doesn’t want round two.

But your thoughts get interrupted as she makes the choice for you.

“Oppa, are you not joining me?”

Suddenly, your body is full of vigor once more as you imagine the two of you soaped up together in the shower, feeling each other and exploring more of each other’s body. You excitedly hop off the bed and scurry to the shower. It was going to be a long, long night.

#smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader #itzy smut #yeji smut

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scarletemeraldpurple · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 12/13: Vampires and Thigh Riding

Agatha x Wanda X Reader

Notes: Cis gal reader (does this mean I’ve sold out?) , vampire compulsion/hypnosis, reader receiving oral, drinking blood, thigh and neck biting, Agatha as Wanda’s vampiric mentor

You’re bartending when a mysterious pair of women show up for the first time. They decide they’re taking you home for a meal.

It was a night like any other. You had a shift at the only dyke bar in town. You knew most of the regular patrons. Tonight a pair of women walked in, one with red hair in a little red dress and one with (quite untamed) black hair in a chic purple jumpsuit.

“Hi angel, can I get a Manhattan and a vodka cranberry for my girl here?” The woman in purple asked.

The redhead clung to her side, but she was looking at you quite intensely.

“Coming right up, just sit tight.”

You were good at your job. You knew that. And these were fairly simple as far as cocktails go, but you couldn’t help but feel nervous under the watchful gaze of these two women.

“Here you two are, Manhattan and a Vodka cran.” You nervously sat down their drinks.

The one in purple touched your hand gently as she gave you a tip.

“Thanks, I’m sure we’ll visit you again soon.” She said with a wink.

“Very soon.” The redhead said a little too intensely.

The older woman pulled her away. They found a booth and soon they seemed to be deep in conversation.

—

You need to control yourself Wanda.”

Agatha said firmly.

“I know Aggie, I’m just so fucking hungry.”

“You think I’m not, dear? Look, bar closes soon enough, just let me take the lead. You can’t rush this process.”

“She keeps glancing at as. It’s cute.” Wanda said.

“Hmm, she’s very cute. And we’ll have her soon.”

They were the last two out of the bar.

“Holding up okay there, doll?” The dark haired woman asked you.

“Not too bad of a shift. You two alright? Need help getting an Uber or anything?”

“Oh that’s sweet of you, but no dear we walked here,” she leaned in, “and you’ll walk with us when you’re all done, okay love?”

You nodded. Your body moved on its own through your closing routine. You found them right outside when you locked the entrance. It felt good to see them. It felt good to obey.

“There she is.” The dark haired woman said with a warm smile.

“Come, pet.” She held out an arm for you to take and you shyly did so.

The women led you to a nearby hotel. You noticed that the woman guiding you ran quite cold. You pulled her a bit closer to you, wanting to alleviate this. You just wanted to be helpful.

The redhead was walking a bit ahead of the two of you, she turned back to check on you.

“Aww look at that smile. And we haven’t even started.” She said.

You weren’t sure what she meant, but you didn’t really mind that. You felt calm, you hadn’t been this calm since… you had no idea honestly, but it didn’t matter.

Her companion looked at you and hummed. “Such a sweet little thing, good thing it was only us who spotted you.” She grinned.

Her canines seemed a bit sharper than average, but your head was fuzzy enough it didn’t matter.

They led you inside the hotel and hurried you into the elevator.

The redhead pinned you to the wall and you were shocked out of your trance.

“I want to be gentle baby, I do, but I’m fucking starved.”

Her companion pulled her off of you. “Wanda! Can you really not contain yourself? There is a proper way to do this, and that’s how it shall be done.”

Wanda looked a bit like a scruffed kitten, held back by the back of the neck.

You were terrified, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into? What had she done to your mind?”

“Look, you’re scared the poor thing half to death.”

“I didn’t mean to, Aggie.”

“And yet you did. She’s not gonna hurt you darling, I won’t let her.”

You just looked at her aghast, frozen against the wall with fear.

“Jig is up then. Name’s Agatha, this is Wanda, what is your name dear?”

You stuttered your way through an introduction.

“Lovely name dear, you see, Wanda and I are vampires. She’s newly turned and she hasn’t had a decent meal in a few weeks.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, this couldn’t be real. You felt like you might pass out.

Agatha ran a hand through your hair, “Relax pet.” The fuzzy, calm feeling took over your mind once again.

Finally the elevator got to the proper floor, Agatha led you to her and Wanda’s room, keeping the younger vampire at bay.

Agatha led you to a couch, sitting down and placing you between her legs. Wanda kneeled at the side of your legs.

A sinking feeling in your stomach brought you out of trance once again.

Agatha ran her cold hands up and down your arms, causing goosebumps to raise all over your skin.

“You know, we really try to be as ethical as we can.”

“When you kill people?” You asked, closing your eyes, willing for this to be some kind of dream.

“Oh my dear, if you’re any good at this, you don’t need to kill anyone. Unless they really deserve it. But you, sweet thing, are safe.”

“But—but you, you two want my blood right?”

“Very much so.” Wanda piped up.

Agatha gave her a glare before going back to soothing you. She guided your head back to lay on your shoulder and raked through your hair with her fingers.

“We won’t take more than you can handle baby. I promise. And it’ll feel so good.” She pressed her icy lips to your cheek.

Her hands moved to your legs and parted them. “And the better you feel, the better you’ll taste for us.”

“What are you—”

“Sshhh. Wanda, get to work.”

Wanda moved between your legs and unbuttoned your pants.

You tried to struggle but Agatha wrapped an arm around you, trapping you.

“Relax pet, I promise no harm will come to you.”

“Does she need to be put under?” Wanda asked.

“Hmm. Maybe, you try this time dear, you need the practice.” Agatha grabbed the back of your hand and made you look down at her.

Wanda’s eyes turned red. “Relax, it’s okay. C’mon pet Relax for me. Just let me have my way with you.”

You went limp in Agatha’s embrace.

“Not bad superstar.”

“Thank you Ma’am.” Wanda said. She pulled down your pants and underwear and pressed kisses to your thighs. Growling at the smell of your blood.

“Wanda, patience. You’re almost there.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She kissed further and further towards your cunt, just barely grazing her fangs over you as she did so. Then she pressed a kiss to your soaked pussy.

You gasped at the contact.

“You’re okay, sweet girl. Feels good doesn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

Agatha chuckled at your small voice. “So just let go baby. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Just feel good.”

Agatha started kissing your neck while Wanda continued to eat you out. You sighed and let yourself get lost in sensation.

Wanda moaned into you, lapping you up, getting lost in your arousal. She tongue fucked you and you squirmed. She held you down against Agatha.

“Our pet’s getting so close. Oh you’re both such good girls.” Agatha crooned.

Soon you were bucking your hips against Wanda’s face, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge.

“That’s it pet, just let go. And let Wanda take from you.” Agatha cooed.

Just as you reached your peak, you felt Wanda’s fangs sink into your thigh. There was a little pain, but in the best way, and it heightened your pleasure.

Wanda moaned as she gulped mouthfuls from you. “You’re even sweeter than I thought you’d be.” She mumbled before cleaning up the wound.

Agatha pulled her up by her chin and gave her a quick kiss. Tasting your arousal and your blood on her tongue. She groaned.

“Are you taking from her tonight Ma’am?”

“A small taste shouldn’t hurt. But why don’t we let her rest a bit, could you go get the juice from the fridge for them my dear?”

“Of course.”

Agatha peppered your cheek with gentle kisses. “You’ve done so well tonight sweet thing. You’re such a good little pet. Such a good girl.”

You grabbed one of her hands to ground yourself.

“Can you look at me, dear?” Agatha asked gently.

You shifted so you were facing her. She went in for a gentle kiss to your lips. You melted into her. You could feel her smile into the kiss. You were so pliable now.

Wanda came back with some juice. You tried to take it but she stopped you, insisting she put the cup to your lips herself. You drank most of the glass and it seems to satisfy her.

“You really did so good tonight.” Wanda said softy. “I’m really sorry I scared you at the start. I’m still working on…control.” She played with your hair gently. Clearly much calmer now that she’d fed.

“It’s…it’s okay.” You said.

She smiled at you softly, then pulled you in for a quick kiss. “Such a cute little thing, can we keep you?”

You chuckled, figuring that she was kidding.

“Well we have lots of time to further discuss that. How are you feeling sweet girl?”

“Good I think? Not even lightheaded or anything.”

“Good, that’s very good. Wanda didn’t drain too much then,” Agatha said as she adjusted you. You were facing her in her lap now, straddling one thigh.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I had a little taste myself then hm?”

“That-that should be fine.” You responded.

“Never more than you can handle baby, I promise.” Agatha said, guiding your hips to grind against her. You were still sensitive from your last orgasm. You practically dripped onto her.

“Oh, what a messy little slut.” Agatha teased.

“It’s not like she can help it.” Wanda chimed in.

“I suppose you’re right, Wanda. Pets just can’t help getting wet like this can they?” Agatha asked you.

You looked into her intensely blue eyes. “Can’t-can’t help it ma’am.”

She smiled, satisfied with your answer.

“No they can’t, and that’s okay. They just need to be taken care of hm?”

You buried your face in her shoulder and jumped her a little faster.

“And that’s what we’re here for. And the better cared for you are, the better we feed, it’s a win-win. Now keep going, sweet little pet. That’s it, I can feel you getting close, cum for me and I’ll bite you.”

You couldn’t control the noises coming out of you as you desperately chased your high against Agatha’s leg.

“There you go,” she cooed as you fell over the edge. She sunk her fangs right into the side of your neck and you screamed with pleasure.

Agatha moaned, you were so perfectly sweet. She took less than Wanda, truly just a taste, then the lapped up the wound.

“Good fucking girl.” She husked into your ear. “I don’t think we can let you go, but that’s okay, we can figure all that out later.”

Her words weren’t really registering, you were too blissed out. Tiredness was also settling into your body.

“But for now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed yeah?” Wanda said gently.

“Excellent plan my dear.”

Agatha scooped you up in her arms and sat you up on the bed. Wanda brought you a warm wash cloth and some spare pajamas. She kissed both of the bite marks and gently cleaned you up.

Agatha simply stripped. Wanda opted for simply sleeping in a t shirt. Agatha pulled you to her right side and Wanda to her left.

You snuggled into her and Agatha kissed your forehead. Wanda reached over to hold your hand. They were both a bit warmer now that they’d fed.

You fell asleep to their gentle touches and to the sound of Wanda humming a lullaby

#agatha harkness smut #wanda maximoff smut #Agatha x Wanda X reader #wanda x agatha #wanda maximoff x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #agatha harkness x reader

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forlorn-crows · 3 months ago

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𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌

Rating: Mature (implied sexual content)

Relationship(s): Aether/Rain

Tags: daddy kink, quintosis (quintessence as hypnosis), post-hypnotic trigger/suggestion, implied transmasculine rain, mildly dubious consent & morality, intox kink, alcohol. let aether be SLEAZY let him be NASTY. we love a wine drunk lightweight rain.

Words: 2189

Guppy. The quint ghoul watches the petname hit Rain’s brain and settle there, making his hips falter in their swaying. He makes an unconscious noise, momentarily stupored. But the haze is gone the next time he blinks, replaced with the almost imperceptible dilation of his pupils. A few sparkles of amethyst blend into his normal cerulean irises, indicative of Aether’s little trick he’s just begun to play. It’s simple, really. A little post-hypnotic suggestion, if you will. “That’s a new one; have you called me that before?” Rain giggles a little and takes another sip of his wine. Oh, has he.

Notes: for my bestie @divine-misfortune; happy birthday, void! he requested "I am placing an order fr Aeth and his guppy,,,,As for what theyre doin? Good question-idk maybe gettin him cute n dumb in public or smthn so he needs his daddy" and thus, this fic was born

Read the rest under the cut, or on AO3!

The abbey grounds are alive with celebration; alight with lanterns, string lights, and a great bonfire down the hill; the smell of stew, mulled wine, and crisp apple mixes with the fresh promise of autumn that cools the breeze. Many libations are passed amongst the scattered groups of ghouls and siblings, as well as shared laughs and cozy conversation. It’s a nice night for festivities, and it’s only bound to get rowdier as the evening progresses.

Rain, of course, is no stranger to a good time. A glass of cranberry wine downed already with another one halfway drunk in his hand, he sways to Swiss and Mountain’s guitar-percussion duo they’ve set up just beyond the bonfire. The multi ghoul strums an unnamed melody while Mountain accompanies with a rhythm on an old floor tom. Easy-going and no particular songs in mind. A few others bustle around him—Cumulus spins Aurora around to her giggling delight, a group of siblings dance amongst their little circle, and Aeon is very obviously wiggling his butt for Swiss’ benefit.

Not that Rain isn’t doing something similar. Aether’s quite enjoying watching the water ghoul sway his hips and smile coyly over his shoulder as Mountain blows him a kiss. He’s equally as cute in the outfit said drummer most likely picked out for him: a charcoal gray thermal underneath a cream colored blouse, chocolate brown joggers that hover above his leather chelsea boots and show off black wool socks, all topped off with a modest gold ring on his wine-glass-wielding hand. In his hair, bright magenta aster blooms are woven alongside yellow heliopsis flowers in the waterfall braids looping under his horns.

A right autumn beauty that has Aether itching to touch, to charm.

“Hi, cutie,” he says appreciatively, slipping his hands around Rain’s waist after sauntering up behind him. He pecks the water ghoul on the cheek.

Rain hums and presses his chilled lips to Aether’s mouth. Cinnamon sugar and berry gracing the tip of his tongue. “Hi yourself,” he grins.

The quint ghoul falls in time with Rain’s hip sways, pressing himself to his back. “And what number drink are we on, love?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“Excuse me, this is only glass number two, thank you very much,” Rain says indignantly. He turns up his nose playfully and flips his hair into Aether’s face, who simply chuckles and blows the strands away.

“Gotta pace yourself; don’t want to see this pretty face passed out in the lawn now, do we?”

Rain rolls his eyes. “I don’t see you enjoying the fruits of Mountain’s berry picking labor.” He throws another coquette look at the earth ghoul, playing it up as a compliment.

Aether hums. “Open up and let me really taste, then,” he lilts, nipping at Rain’s jaw with a growl.

“Ugh,” he laughs through a groan. In trying to dodge Aether’s attack, the red wine sloshes over the rim of his glass and soaks into the cuff of his thermal. “Aetherrr,” he complains, picking at the sleeve.

Aether tuts. “It’s only a little—it’ll dry, guppy.”

It’s simple, really. A little post-hypnotic suggestion, if you will.

“That’s a new one; have you called me that before?” Rain giggles a little and takes another sip of his wine.

Oh, has he. He plays innocent. “What, ‘guppy’?”

Rain giggles again, almost automatic. “Uh huh. Kinda like it.” Aether can tell he doesn’t know why he says so. It’s part of the design, of course, that he doesn’t catch on to what the nickname does to him. How each utterance weaves a little more magick into his mind, dropping him that much further. Rain hums, leaning into Aether more heavily than before.

“Thought you might,” he rumbles, giving him a peck on the cheek. He catches Mountain’s eye over the water ghoul’s shoulder, his expression now twisted with a mix of amusement, suspicion, and maybe a little bit of jealousy. Aether throws him a wink, and the earth ghoul rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smirk.

He taps the rim of Rain’s wine glass. “Is my pretty ghoul gonna pace himself properly, or will I have to keep an eye on you, mister?”

“Mmm, you can keep an eye on me all you want.” Rain wiggles his ass against his crotch suggestively.

Aether chuckles and gives his waist a squeeze. “Watch it, now; you get into too much trouble and I’ll have to whisk you away from all the fun, guppy.”

Rain shakes his head exaggeratedly, whining in disagreement. Stumbling a little on his next hip swivel. “Nooo, let me have fuuun,” he protests. “I’ll be gooood. Promise.” He offers up the pinky on his free hand. The hammered gold band on his middle finger flashes with the firelight across the field.

Aether links his pinky with his own. “I’ll be watching,” he warns playfully, nipping at his jaw again. Rain doesn’t swat him away this time. The quint ghoul offers a pat on the ass before he walks away, busying himself with hor devours and fish stew.

It’s a few hours later before they cross paths again, Rain noticeably tipsier and loose-limbed as he converses with Dew at the bonfire. If Aether’s observations were correct, the glass of dark, blackberry wine in his hand should be his fourth drink now. He’d be inebriated without the magick, lightweight as water ghouls typically are, but the touch of quintessence makes him needier, more tactile than he otherwise would be. It’s a side effect that makes itself known quite obviously: kissing Mountain full on the mouth after his and Swiss’ set was finished, resting his head on Sunshine’s shoulder as she fed him prosciutto and cheese cubes from her snack plate, holding a sister’s hand as he walked with her through the small rose garden that surrounds the outside walls of the bathhouse.

Like this, he’s seductive and ripe for the taking. Aether’s drawn back to him like a magnet.

“ . . . wanna go someplace on the coast,” Rain is saying as he approaches the pair. “When it’s warm.” Rain pouts.

Dew makes a face. “Ugh, I don’t know if I can take more outside shows; too fuckin’ hot.”

“Y’re ‘fuckin’ hot,’” the water ghoul smirks, poking at Dew’s leg with his boot.

Dew just rolls his eyes fondly. “And you’re drunk, starfish.”

“Nuh uh—”

“Think Dew’s right, guppy,” Aether interjects, placing his hands on Rain’s shoulders. “Hm?” Rain raises a finger above his head, waggling it in front of Aether’s chest to emphasize his nuh uh. Aether can feel the magick swirl that much deeper under his fingers, making Rain hiccup and drop his head back against the quint’s body.

Beside them, Dew crosses his arms and laughs knowingly. “Guppy, huh?” He raises an eyebrow and bites the inside of his cheek to stop his mouth from quirking up further. Mentally, Aether shrugs. So a few of them know of his tricks—sue him. They’ve enjoyed the effects of Rain’s (and their own) nickname before, so, really, they have no place to judge.

“‘s cute,” Rain slurs, smiling up at Aether. “Gu-ppy. Guuuuuppy.”

“Why don’t ya say it a few more times?” Dew snorts, turning to busy himself with the fire and leaving Aether to his sleazy antics. Luckily, Ifrit’s there to hold his attention. The quint ghoul slips around and takes the free spot on Rain’s left. He’s immediately greeted with a lapful of clumsy water ghoul, who chooses to climb on top of him instead of stay in his own seat.

“Hi, love,” Aether says warmly, wrapping his arms around him. Deftly, he plucks the wine glass from Rain’s hand and places it on the stump beside them. “You enjoying yourself?”

“More now tha’ y’re here,” he smiles, all drunk and dopey. He loops his arms around Aether’s neck and hums. Adjusts himself more than comfortably on his lap, legs hanging over his hips and bellies pressed together.

“I’m glad, my pretty guppy,” Aether rumbles. Rain makes a noise at the back of his throat, quick and breathy. Aether watches his eyelids flutter for the first time since the night began, like a moth's wings as they carry the flying creature closer to the flames. He tuts and brushes his thumb over the water ghoul’s cheek, who leans into the touch with a needy purr.

“Y’ feel nice,” he sighs dreamily.

“Not getting tired?” he asks, a self-satisfied smile crossing his face as Rain fights to blink away the haze.

He shakes his head, sticking out his bottom lip and wriggling closer. Rolling his hips not-so-subtly against Aether’s crotch. “Uh-uh.”

“No? Looks like that wine is getting to you, love,” he teases.

“Aetherrrrrr,” Rain wines. He wiggles again, and Aether can feel the damp heat starting to radiate off of him. Teetering perfectly between giggly, aroused, and falling asleep standing up. “Let me have fuuun,” he echoes himself from earlier.

“Out here, in front of everyone?” Rain groans and sticks his face into the crook of Aether’s neck. He chuckles to himself and wraps those big arms tight around his lithe body. One more, and he’ll be just where he wants him. He puts his mouth to Rain’s ear and whispers: “No—don’t want you to get sloppy, guppy; why don’t we tuck in for the night? You and me, what do you say?”

It’s like a weight drops on his body, Rain going so lax against him until his arms slip off Aether’s shoulders, head only staying up because his chin keeps it hanging off of Aether’s chest. He’s not dropped all the way, not just yet, but his face pulls into an expression of bliss and his eyes slip all the way closed this time. Purrs increasing in intensity as he helplessly melts into Aether’s control.

And then he says something Aether wasn’t entirely prepared for; something that makes his breath catch in his throat and his pants get tight.

Rain sighs happily, stupidly, eyes reopening to amethyst-tinged slits as he gazes up at the quint ghoul. He smiles, licking his lips like a dog settling down for a nap. “Okay, daddy.”

Fuck. Aether bites back a groan. “Yeah, baby?” he says softly. “You wanna cozy up with Daddy?”

“Mm-hm,” he nods.

Aether scoops him up immediately. He can feel Mountain’s jealous stare against his back as he carries Rain back to the abbey, no doubt thwarting the earth ghoul’s plan to strip Rain of the outfit he picked out for him and take him slow and sweet. The quint ghoul flicks his tail behind him: next time, big guy.

Rain makes a noise of protest as he’s eventually plopped onto Aether’s bed, nearly falling over as he makes grabby hands towards the bigger ghoul.

“Just closing the door, sweet boy,” Aether assures.

When he turns back, there’s a blush on Rain’s cheeks, rosied from the cool air. He looks back at Aether with big eyes, whining as he starts to paw at his own clothes. Needy and eager. A picture of casual sin, the braids around his horns have gone loose from the night’s festivities, flowers cascading down his curls like fallen leaves that get stuck in branches on their descent to the ground. The merriment which disheveled his pristine look has also sullied his blouse, now stained crimson in a few rogue spots from the wine. And as Rain shifts and spreads his legs a little, Aether catches sight of the tiny damp patch in the crotch of his pants, his sudden arousal obvious and impossible to hide.

It’s enough to make his mouth water. “Fuck, look at you; handsome, handsome boy,” he rumbles. Aether crouches over him, bracketing Rain’s torso with his arms and leaning in to graze their noses together. The smell of wine and sweet, heady arousal hits him like a punch to the gut. In an instant, his resolve crumbles, and all he can do is groan. “Daddy wants you so bad, baby.”

Rain’s whimper turns into a gasp as Aether runs a hand down his thigh. “Oh . . . but—clothes,” he says dumbly, still grabbing at them.

“Don’t worry, guppy—” he breathes, tracking that hand back up to the waistband of his pants, then his fly. Rain’s groan is soft, trailing off at the end as he starts to slip somewhere distant, putty in the quint ghoul’s hands. Aether pops the snap and pulls the zipper down with one claw, pushing past Rain’s fly to cup him over his now damp underwear. His mouth brushes against the water ghoul’s messily, hungrily, and lets the momentum of it all take them both down onto the bed.

“—Daddy’ll take good care of you.”

#crow writes #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #aether/rain #quintosis #aether x rain #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #quintessence as hypnosis #cw: intox kink #cw: daddy kink #cw: dubcon

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emjiroki · 1 year ago

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Vampire Cult Leader Geto Suguru x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: sacrifice, blood drinking, hypnosis, predator/prey dynamics, death (not reader or geto), venom as an aphrodisiac, pet names with a little degradation (pet, little lamb), dubcon (it will be tagged appropriately multiple times)

A/N: Happy Halloween Ghouls and Goblins! What's more perfect to celebrate wrapping up this spooky season than with a Vampire Geto fic? I hope everyone enjoys and has a safe holiday!

Likes, comments, reblogs, and tags are appreciated and treasured

‘Why is it so cold? Where are they taking me? Why am I in only a thin sheet?’ all of these questions swarmed through your mind as whoever it was had their freezing hands around your wrists just over the leather they had used to tie them. They kept growling to “Keep moving”, your feet shuffling cautiously across the cold concrete.

You couldn't see who they were due to the cloth tied across your vision but they would shove you if you stopped moving or stumbled, sending you to the ground before dragging you back up harshly from the floor. With the adrenaline coursing through you, it felt as if your blood should be cold; not hot as it oozed from the scrapes across your knees.

A rush of air from an opening door greeted you before you were dragged forward again, forced to your knees in a kneeling position, a cold hand pushing your head down before yanking the blindfold off. You squinted even in the low light of the massive room, flickering candles in massive standing candelabras lined the room and cast dancing shadows across the stone walls; shadows that seemed to mock you.

It seemed to be a jumble of senses as you tried to figure out just where the hell you were; the temperature of the room, the smell of incense permeating the air, the rough feeling of stone beneath your knees and toes, the sensation of light cloth against your skin from a white gown like dress you had never seen before, and the massive door being the only way in or out lined with guards in black robes.

There were other captives kneeling next to you in a line, a few of them crying softly and the others with their heads down and their eyes closed, lips mumbling words you couldn't quite hear but you assumed they were a prayer. All dressed in identical gowns to yours.

You turned your head slightly to try and get a look at the people behind you, all of them in robes of various shades of red, a symbol carved into the flesh below their collarbones. The guard behind you turned your head back to face the stage again, his eyes a feral shade of orangey yellow as he bared his teeth. Fangs, not teeth, you realize, your body begins to shake. What was going on here? A sharp cry echoed through the room as a woman down the line was bashed across the back of the head with a wooden pole after seemingly trying to get up, her sobs only seemed to grow as they began poking and prodding her, laughing at her anguish and fear.

“Now now we know better than to play with our food don’t we?” a deep voice rang out from the front of the stage, one light turning on to showcase exactly who was talking. The room erupted in applause as the dark-haired man bowed, smiling as he motioned for the crowd to settle, “What is rule number three?”.

“Pain ruins the blood” the crowd answered together.

“That’s right” He commended, seemingly pleased for the moment until he turned his gaze to the two offenders who had been pushing the woman around.

With a wave of his hand, they were turned to mist, blood spraying across the ground and walls as they turned to wet atoms. Your jaw dropped, stomach twisting. What the hell was going on?

“And we have no room for anyone who can’t follow my simple rules, correct?”

“Yes Master Suguru” the crowd chanted back.

“Help us!” one man cried, his head raised to stare at the master with pleading eyes. Suguru laughed, something airy and almost gleeful.

“But I am helping you,” He replied, “Helping you reach your potential, true enlightenment”. The crowd erupted in applause again, their clapping unnerving you. He continued to speak once the group died down again, explaining their cult mission in a voice that seemed as if he was speaking directly into your brain, whispering in your ear; the words curling around your brainstem and invading your nervous system. Despite the urge to flee, the primal need to get as far away as possible screaming, you couldn’t move. Frozen to the floor watching him gliding across the stone stage, back and forth in his long robes the color of garnet stone.

“Don't you see? You are but simple nourishment, akin to cattle for the slaughter, it's your true purpose".

Fresh adrenaline flared when the icy hand of the guard standing behind you wrapped around the back of your neck, the shrill scream that left your mouth didn't sound human; feral and desperate. The strap they had used to tie your hands dug deeply into your wrists as you thrashed, managing to throw the guard off balance enough to shoulder his thigh and send him to the floor before forcing yourself to your feet. The cult was swarming now, circling like a pack of wolves waiting for their prey to make the wrong move, their unnatural eyes bright with bloodlust.

“Enough” The dark voice of their leader brought them to a halt.

Like scolded dogs, they moved away from you, the guy you had knocked to the floor staring like he wanted to break your neck. Your knees throb from kneeling as you stand on unsteady feet, suppressing every urge not to shake as their leader approaches you in his unnerving gliding stride.

“Well well, a strong one aren’t you?” He asked in a seemingly pleased tone, drawing so close to you it felt like he was enveloping you, so close that you could see the delicate gleam of hunger in his carnelian eyes. The moment you looked into his gaze it felt as if your body had frozen, like prey in a trap. His pointed nails dragged smoothly across your cheek, riddling your skin with goosebumps.

The longer his cold fingers lingered the more it felt as if he was invading your body through every nerve ending, every pulse of your blood seemed to be at his will like he was pumping your heart manually.

Your mouth felt iron-locked, eyes unable to tear away from his as one hand held your jaw, keeping you steady as he reached behind you and easily sliced through the leather, the sound of the strap falling to the floor barely audible over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

‘Why can’t I feel the floor? Am I… floating?’ all of these questioning thoughts ran through your mind as you focused on the feeling of what seemed like your entire body was balancing in the palm of his hand.

“See? So easily subdued, such a good pet”.

It felt as if your heart should be pounding, adrenaline and cortisol spiking through your blood as a vague primal panic tensed every muscle to flee. But it wasn’t and nothing was happening except a boneless calm. Glass water in a lake. He leaned in close, his nose grazing the line of your pulse as his dark eyes flickered closed for a moment, a deep inhale drifting his warm exhale against your flesh as the energy buzzing around you reflected the restraint he was exuding to keep his lips from your throat.

“On your knees” He murmured, his hand releasing your jaw the second your legs gave out under you as he turned away, beginning to walk back with merely a glance down at you.

“Crawl”.

Your limbs weren’t your own as you dropped to your hands, your knees throbbing as the scrapes met the floor and shuffled across it; your head up with your eyes still trained on him and watching every fluid movement of his steps. You grit your teeth against the pain of the cuts opening again but are unable to stop trailing behind him, parading yourself for his power move. But as long as you weren’t being swarmed by these bloodsuckers you’d stay on your knees all night.

He ascended the stairs silent as a ghost, no sound reached your ears other than the whimpering of the others held captive cutting the pin-drop silence. He reached the stone landing three stairs before you did, two of his henchmen struggling but quickly moving a chair in for him that should be described as a throne, all dark wood and deep obsidian velvet cushions. They bowed graciously to him before skirring away as you moved to his feet.

“Look at you, come closer”. You shuffled forward until you were between his parted thighs, his hand cold as he traced the back of his fingers against your cheek, “So warm and supple”. You felt air invade your lungs again, the fog in your brain lifting, if only momentarily, and you finally move on your own accord. You rubbed your wrists where the strap had been cutting in, your white gown pooling around your legs now. A soft, unsatisfied noise escaped him as his dark eyes followed your brief glance down to your clothing, a sharp clawing-like nail pricking just under your chin to drag you up again. The room's cool air had fresh goosebumps erupting across your skin as he raised his hands to your shoulders before pushing the gown down and off to settle at your feet. You stayed still as he observed you in your bare form, your heart hammering in nervousness, fear taking the back burner for now. It felt like he was analyzing you. Not an inch of skin or cell in your body unseen as he regarded you with a sort of… interest.

“No need to be so nervous pet,” He said, leaning back comfortably, “You’re in capable hands now”.

“Who-Who are you?” You stuttered, your voice breaking as you lifted your arms to cover yourself. The chuckle surprised you.

“I am Geto Suguru, Master of this cult of… well animals, bloodsuckers, the discarded scraps I suppose”

“Why are you doing this?”. Another almost unnerving chuckle.

"Feeding them, and myself, so we don't get too restless, tends to cause more chaos when hungry" He mused, glancing behind you once and waving his hand dismissively before training his predatory gaze back to you. "but I must say I don't think I've ever had a meal as pretty as you".

You fight the shamed redness from your cheeks, your spine chilling as a shrill scream shattered the near quiet; the ravenous sounds of the bloodsuckers descending upon those sacrificed to their feral appetites had your stomach tied in knots.

"No no, eyes on me" Geto murmured, a strange tingling behind your eyes prompting you to face forward again, to ignore the carnage behind you unsuccessfully. The sickening sounds of teeth popping flesh had your stomach churning, skin crawling, and saliva pooling against your tongue as you forced the vomit down at the images your brain was conjuring up at the sucking wet sounds. You were so focused on not throwing up that you didn’t notice the cool hand wrapping around your wrist, Geto pulling you forward until you were stumbling into his lap. He settled your knees on either side of his lap, effectively straddling him in the chair and baring everything to his wandering gaze. Your body began to shake, afraid to put your hands anywhere but clutched to your chest, every alarm bell ringing loudly but your muscles froze.

“Geto I-” You stammered past your trembling jaw, only for one of his slender fingers to press against your lips.

“Master” He corrected in a hushed tone, “you’ll address me as Master while under my care”, He leaned forward slightly to draw his nose along your throat again, “at least for now”.

“M-Master”, the name foreign to your tongue and making something stir in your guts, “I’m-”.

“Scared, I know, Your blood is practically burning” He hummed, a soft smile on his lips that revealed his fangs, “purely divine”.

It felt wrong to be aroused at the feeling of this deadly man running his hands along your sides, his claw-like nails on one hand running tantalizing lines along your ribs. The other was planted flat on the small of your back, almost encouraging you to lean closer into him.

You squeaked at the feeling of his lips meeting your collarbone, his tongue slipping against the skin, tasting you, reveling in the sound of your heart beating like a racing horse.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You asked, finally putting your hands against his shoulders to keep balanced. His dark eyes flicked up to you, flames from the surrounding candlelight dancing in those black pools.

“I truly despise repeating myself,” He said, a more stern edge to his voice as he moved his hand up to thread in your hair, arching your neck back a little to expose your throat.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment, take a deep breath”.

You could do nothing but follow his instructions, air filling your lungs for a moment before a sharp stinging pain erupted across your throat, bringing tears to your eyes as you let the breath escape in a shaky whimper, your hands shoving against his shoulders in a futile effort to move him.

His hold was unbreakable. Pinning you to his lap and barely allowing any movement. The pain radiated through your body, a flash burn that made every nerve under your skin ignite. But suddenly there was nothing. No pain. No fear. Just a blooming euphoric feeling.

Were you dying? No no that couldn’t be this. Nothing could be this.

You felt a soft chuckling growl tremor against your throat as sagged a little against Geto’s chest, the hand against your moving for his arm to encircle you and keep you steady.

“It’s the venom” He murmured into your skin, answering your silent question. It was then you noticed all other sounds past this were numbed. Muffled like someone had filled your ears with cotton. It was as if you were in a bubble, the only feeling being Geto beneath you. The feeling of his lips on your throat, his cool hands caressing your skin, the softness of his robes. Like all the nerve endings in your body were firing at once. Your hips bucked against him as he dragged his nails softly down your spine, releasing your hair to make you shiver. The stimulation of your heat had a choked moan escaping, bucking your hips involuntarily again and feeling a prominent bulge forming.

“Easy now pet” He hissed, his hands going to your hips as rocked against him again and again, the stimulation buzzing through your body like you were touching a live wire. You couldn’t help how wet you were, the stickiness of your thighs drawing a burning heat to your face. Your gasp echoed around you when Geto unlatched himself from your throat, his lips red and shining in the dim candlelight, beckoning you in to steal a sinful kiss. As if reading your mind he leaned forward, one hand softly against the back of your next pulling you to meet him halfway and taste yourself against his lips. It should have been gross, downright revolting to have your blood smearing against your lips and swallowed against your tongue, but you let him devour you. Panting with a soft moan as his tongue slid against your lower lip, his sharp canines nicking against the soft flesh and drawing fresh blood into both of your mouths.

“You want it that bad?” He questioned and you realized your hips hadn’t stopped moving, the wetness leaking against the material of his robes. With the way this dizzying need consumed your brain and body, you couldn’t say no. Wouldn’t say no. Not when you were balancing on a precipice this steep. If all you needed to do was give yourself to him, blood and body, then it was much preferable over anything that would have happened with those fiendish goons still devouring on the floor behind you. You gasped as he lifted you up slightly, hands against your hips as he shifted the front of his robes open. The groan that tumbled from his lips as you wrapped your hand around his cock sent a shiver through you, his dark eyes peering up at you through heavy lids as his sensitive head grazed across your wet heat. You tried to sink down and take him all at once but his sharp nails dug into your hips and ass the moment he breached your entrance.

“Ah ah, go slow” He instructed, squeezing your flesh and pulling you down an inch at a time, your head swimming as he stretched you so well, stuffing himself right up against the soft spot inside of you. A sharp hiss escaped you as he roughly prodded your cervix.

“It’s- too much” You whined, shifting your hips uncomfortably.

“You’ll learn to take it” He murmured, his lips grazing your chest as he panted out a heavy groan, “So tight”. Another sharp pain against the side of your breast and suddenly you were buzzing again, that euphoria leaking back into your bloodstream. You could feel him drawing your blood in against his tongue, drinking you down greedily like he was a dehydrated man receiving water, his hands beginning to guide you along his length. It felt like he was dissolving into you, your warmth gripping him and filling his stomach at the same time as you began to bounce, your clit smashing into the hair at his pelvis as moans crumbled passed your lips more freely.

“That’s right, fall apart for me,” Geto encouraged as he broke from your skin, the side of your breast slick with blood as it rolled down your stomach, his tongue tracing the line to clean up his spill. Your climax was edging embarrassingly fast, your wetness leaking out and staining the material of his robes as you panted and whimpered wantonly, completely disregarding anyone who could be watching at that moment. You could feel eyes on you, burning into your back with hunger but you ignored it, sparks popping behind your tightly closed eyes as Geto began thrusting up into your body.

“M-Master I’m-” You tried to tell him how close you were as his hand moved up to squeeze your cheeks, prompting you to open your eyes for him. Looking into his gaze had you under his spell again, like a mouse about to be consumed whole by a snake. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, a surprised hum bubbling from his chest as he pulled you in closer and began hammering against the soft sensitive spot deep inside and dragging you closer to your end.

“Cum for me” He whispered against your lips, the prick of his nails in your flesh sending you careening over the edge. Your arousal soaked your thighs and dripped from his balls to the chair as you shrieked, never having had an orgasm this intense before in your life. He chuckled darkly as he moved his thumb down to your clit, pressing in tight circles and sending you spiraling again, your hips moving without any rhythm as your second release crashed through you and further soaked his lap. You sagged against him as if boneless, your breath escaping in heavy pants and your heart thumping so loudly it sounded like it was leaking from your ears.

“Look at the mess you made, little lamb” He commented, his thumb going down to run across your folds and bring your juices to his lips, “you’ll have to do your part and clean me up with that exploring tongue of yours”.

A weak groan was all you were able to manage, not able to even move your arms. You felt so weak.

“But that will come later, need to have you in top shape to take my seed and produce my strong little spawns”.

You weakly raised your head to look at him, feeling the surprise on your face before he mentioned it.

“Don’t look so surprised little lamb, you’ve proven yourself a worthy vessel and an even worthier snack” He dipped his lips down to your ear, nipping lightly but drawing no blood as you twitched against him, “think I’ll keep you, make you my bloodsucking bride and give you true purpose, to be mine. Forever”.

#happy halloween #geto suguru #vampire geto suguru #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #tw monsterfucking #tw dubcon #tw blood #em writes ✍#em talks 👄

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 6 months ago

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Escaping Lucien

Lucien Masterlist

Y/N was just starting to stir when she felt it- pressure on her neck, two tiny pinches, then…nothing. Her breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at her host. Lucien started to drink, and Y/N barely felt it at all. As the seconds ticked by however, she began to feel warm and dizzy.

“S-stop, stop!” she protested weakly.

She tried raising her arm to strike him, but Lucien took it with his free hand and gently set it back down.

Dark spots encroached on her vision, and her struggles started to die down. Only when she felt her body going limp did Lucien detach his mouth from her neck. Y/N stared up at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes that slowly fluttered shut once more.

…

Lucien wiped the excess blood from his chin, licking it from his fingers. He looked down at Y/N. Unlike his servants or those in the village, her blood was intoxicating. Such a fine source of nourishment should not be squandered. She would need to stay here indefinitely. Yes, it would be much safer here.

“Well done, Y/N. Well done.”

…

It was only when a sliver of early morning light filtered through the deep crimson curtains that Y/N woke up once again. She bolted upright in bed. Her clothes had been replaced with silk sleepwear, and there was a soreness on one side of her neck. The memories of last night were hazy, but the alarm bells ringing in her head were loud and clear. She needed to leave, and fast.

Y/N sprang out of bed. She shoved on the closest pair of shoes she could find and threw the door open. She grabbed a brass candelabra, wielding it like a club, and sprinted from the room. She didn’t bother to wonder what had happened to her day clothes or her luggage. Adrenaline pumped through her every vein, making her face a soft red. The manor was enormous, and with so many twists and turns, it was more like a labyrinth.

She just had her hand on the front doorknob when a gentle breeze wisped through. That wouldn’t be frightening if it weren’t for the fact that all the windows were closed with the heavy curtains drawn shut.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her candelabra. Lucien stood there, a great pair of bat wings sprouting from his back and his eyes glowing in the early morning light. Y/N stood frozen a moment, before tearing the nearest curtain from its rod, letting the entryway flood with sunlight.

Lucien blinked, seemingly unaffected by the bane of his kind. Y/N’s eyes widened; she clutched her weapon tighter.

“You’re causing quite a stir so late,” Lucien remarked, “or rather, so early.”

“Y-you,” Y/N stammered, “you should be dead!”

“Oh, I’ll probably have quite a few burns after this,” Lucien said, squinting against the light, “but I’m afraid Mr. Stoker has misinformed you. A bit of sunlight is not going to turn me into a puff of dust. Though I am a bit hurt that your first instinct was to kill me.”

“You kidnapped me!”

“Strange, I seem to recall you coming to my domain quite willingly.”

“You did something to my head!”

“Hypnosis.”

“And you bit me!”

“Only to get the blood.”

Lucien looked so calm in the midst of this, even a little amused. It enraged and further frightened Y/N.

She fumbled for the doorknob behind her back.

“Ah, now I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Lucien said, stepping forward.

Y/N found the knob, turned it, and went to push the great oaken door open. It… barely budged. She put all her weight on it, but before she could open it all the way, Lucien yanked her back by the arm, pinning her back against his chest.

“Let me go!” Y/N said, thrashing in his hold.

She did about as much good as a worm on a fisherman’s hook.

“Behave,” Lucien hissed in her ear, “or I will resort to ‘doing something with your head’.”

Lucien picked Y/N up in a bridal carry and started to take her back to the room she had woken up in. He deposited her on the bed.

“If you want to live, then you are not to leave this manor. In fact, it might do well if you didn’t leave this room until I come for you.”

Lucien turned, slamming the door shut. It locked with a gentle but audible click. Y/N sat there for a moment, staring at the door, before jumping up and trying to open it. She banged on the door.

“Let me out!” she shouted.

…

Y/N shouts echoed throughout the halls. Lucien rubbed his temples and turned to his servant.

“Make sure she doesn’t starve,” he said, “and bring up the ointment, I’m going to need it.”

Lucien glided away, the beginnings of angry burns forming on his face and wings.

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oliversrarebooks · 3 months ago

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The Rare Bookseller Part 64: Alexander's Plans

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tw: mind control, hypnosis

September 1905

Oscar couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had seeped into his every waking hour. He was no stranger to dread, of course. As an unusually long-lived vampire hunter, he'd been through so many moments where he was sure he was about to die that they all tended to blend together.

But something was different about this. The guild headquarters seemed eerily quiet. Raucous celebrations of successful vampire slayings had gradually vanished. In their place, the hunters shuffled silently through the halls, barely acknowledging each other.

He was their leader, as much as such a disorganized, scattered group even had a leader, and he took the responsibility seriously. He owed it both to the younger hunters and to the civilians of the city to have a well-run vampire hunters' guild. They deserved a city where they could walk freely at night without fear of a vile bloodsucker stealing them away, warping their minds, and draining their very lives to fuel a shambling corpse. They deserved better than what he could give, but there was no one else for the job.

Oscar pulled his lieutenant Grace into his tiny office partially to discuss the situation with her and partially to escape from the oppressive atmosphere. She was an uncanny sure-shot with a crossbow, and Oscar had trusted her with his life on many occasions. If there was anyone he could confide in about his concerns, it was Grace.

"Have you noticed anything strange about Maggie lately?" Oscar asked.

"Maggie… she's seemed tired, I think," Grace replied. "I've always suspected she's not quite cut out for this life. Don't tell her I said this, but if you ask me, she's lucky she hasn't become a meal yet." She scratched at the scar on her neck, the eternal reminder that Grace had been a vampire's last meal herself.

"It's not just Maggie. It's others. Leo, too. Chuck. And Frank -- he hasn't been bringing in kills, but he hasn't been bugging me for drinking money, either. He has a look in his eye…"

"Hunters go a bit mad all the time. Hell, I'm sure we have too."

"It's different this time, Grace! I can feel it in the air." Oscar clenched his fists, wracking his mind for the right words to explain what he felt in his bones, coming up empty. "Maybe I am a bit mad."

Grace laid an understanding hand on his shoulder. "Your intuition has never steered me wrong. If you think there's something going on with the rest of the hunters, I believe you. I'm just not sure what you think it is."

"I'm not entirely sure myself," he admitted, "but sometimes I wonder if they've been compromised."

"Compromised?"

"By a vampire. There's too many powerful bloodsuckers we've failed to keep under control. We wouldn't be the first guild to be taken down from the inside by one of them."

Grace's eyes flickered with thought. "It's possible. But what would you propose, then? We're so short-handed as it is -- I don't think we can afford to kick all of those hunters out of the guild just on a suspicion."

"Of course not. I just want to keep an eye on them. See if there are signs. Stop them before they betray us, if it is true," he said. "You have a way with people, Grace. I don't. I've spent too much time hidden away in crumbling buildings watching for monsters. But you can talk to them, watch them. I need you for this."

Maybe it was his imagination, but Grace looked strangely conflicted by such a simple request. For a moment, Oscar was afraid that his imagined infiltrator had reached her, too. But no, it couldn't be -- someone as sensible and willful as Grace would never let herself be trapped by a vampire's crude charms.

"All right, Oscar," she said after a too-long pause. "All right. I'll watch them. But I'm worried about you. You've hardly slept lately, haven't you?"

"Are you saying I'm only being paranoid because of lack of sleep?"

"No. I told you that I believe your intuition. But I'm also concerned about your health. Don't you think you should rest?"

"I'll rest when I have time to rest," said Oscar. Grace was right, of course, but it still irritated him -- he asked for a lieutenant, not a mother. "Tonight, I have to --"

Oscar's words stopped abruptly. He heard something odd. Something almost like music. But it wasn't like one of the hunters singing after a kill, or drunkenly playing an instrument. It was something else, something eerie and unsettling.

"Grace, do you hear that? That music?"

"I don't hear anything. Are you trying to change the --"

"Shush! Listen." It was a low hum, the sort that could build in your mind over time and drive you mad, getting louder all the time. "You must hear that now."

"No, I don't," she said. "You must be hearing things. This is what I was talking about -- you need to rest."

"I am not hearing things!" he hissed. The hum was growing louder, making it difficult to concentrate. "Grace -- you --"

Her eyes had taken on such a faraway look as she swayed in place before Oscar. "Rest… you need to rest…"

"Shit!" He knew it! There was a vampire in the guild, somehow, working its vile charms, and the only way that could happen was if one of the hunters was compromised enough to invite them past the wards. "Grace! Snap out of it!"

Life returned to her eyes as Oscar shook her. "What…?"

"There's a vampire in the guild -- exactly as I feared. It's trying to put us under its spell." He drew his silver knife, long and sharp, and tried to block the infernal song from his mind. "Draw your weapon and help me find it."

"I'll help you," she said, still looking unsteady.

"Don't listen to the --"

Grace unexpectedly slammed Oscar up against the wall, nearly knocking the knife from his hand. She'd always been strong, but now she seemed driven by something unnatural. "I'll help you," she repeated in that dazed monotone. "I'll help you rest…"

"Snap out of it!" he said, shoving her away. She'd always been more resilient to enthrallment than any other hunter he knew, and it was terrifying to see her so far under a vampire's spell. The vampire wasn't even here yet, although the song was echoing faintly through the walls. How could she possibly be taken so quickly?

"I'll help you listen…" She regained her footing and lurched towards Oscar. "Help you listen… help you sleep…"

Unless she had been one of the compromised hunters all along.

Oscar cursed under his breath. "Sorry, this is for your own good," he said, pushing her away and slamming the thick door to his office behind him, hands trembling slightly as he grabbed the key from his pocket and locked it tight. He could free Grace from her spell once he'd dealt with the vampire, but right now, she was little more than a liability.

The sight of his trusted lieutenant, utterly and unquestionably hypnotized, kept repeating in his thoughts. That would be him, if he weren't careful, especially with the song growing louder and sweeter.

If only he had his wax earplugs! Thrall could affect you even if you didn't hear it, so it wasn't perfect protection, but it was better than nothing. Without that, he had nothing to rely on but his own willpower. Still, his willpower had allowed him to triumph over many formidable vampires, and he refused to see the guild fall on his watch.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He was tired already.

Oscar ran down the hall, encountering one of the newest hunters, Rich, slowly sliding down the wall in a half-entranced state. He snapped next to Rich's ear. "Rich! Hey, Rich, you have to fight it! Stay with me."

Rich looked up at Oscar with lidded, drowsy eyes, and let out a huge yawn, one which left Oscar struggling to keep himself from yawning in turn. "Sorry, Captain, I'm just… I've just gotta take a nap first…"

"No, you have to fight the vampire's influence! Stay awake!"

"I have to… I gotta… I gotta sleep, gotta go to sleep…" Rich plopped onto the floor and slumped over, eyes closing.

Oscar had no choice but to leave him behind, too, hoping that he wouldn't get caught by a vampire while he was unconscious. The song was closer and stronger now, and Oscar could feel its seductive pull. He hadn't ever experienced enthrallment quite like it -- a soothing lullaby of deceptive, dangerous power. And he was already so tired.

All he had to do was stay awake, take down this vampire, and save his guild. All he had to do…

In his mind, he was turning the corner and running towards the source of the voice, knife held at the ready, steeling his mind for the fight.

In reality, didn't fully notice how slow and methodical his footsteps were becoming. How he was beginning to slump over. How his eyelids were drooping.

Oscar found his target in the main training hall. He had a young hunter in his arms, gently stroking her hair and rocking her as she succumbed to slumber, pouring his song in her vulnerable ears. June, whose whole family had been killed by a vampire, was peacefully asleep in the arms of one of the most dangerous vampires Oscar had ever seen, a blissful smile on her placid face. Nearby, several hunters lay in heaps on the floor.

He tightened his slackening grip on his silver knife, tried to block the spell from his mind, and prepared to rush at the vampire. But his limbs were already heavy, clumsy. Instead of rushing forward, he found himself taking slow, ponderous steps.

The vampire set June carefully on the floor and turned to Oscar, directing his full power at the seasoned leader of the vampire guild. The urge to close his heavy eyelids was almost overwhelming as the spell of deep sleep and deep submission washed over him.

No… he had to fight. He must. He didn't want to end like this. He didn't want to…

He was sleepwalking towards the vampire, his head bobbing as he struggled to wake up every time he started to doze. The knife slipped from his fingers, forgotten. Cold fingers stroked the side of his face, and he leaned into them, so lost.

He'd always been so, so lost. Always fighting, never resting. Never allowing himself a moment of peace and comfort.

"It's all right, hunter, it's all right," the vampire crooned, as Oscar found himself looking straight into intense, blue eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Mmm." He had to wake up. He had to fight this.

"I'm looking for your guild's leader."

"I'm… that's me. I'm the guild's leader."

A soft but triumphant smile blossomed on the vampire's face. "That's very good. I'm glad to meet you," he said, and Oscar felt warm inside despite himself. "In that case, I'm just going to put you to sleep now, all right? A nice, deep, comfortable sleep where you can listen."

No. No! He had to resist. "All right…" he heard his own voice say, meek and mild.

"Deep, deep sleep. Shut down those tired eyes for me. You can rest now, hunter. Nothing but deep sleep and irresistible comfort."

He was so lost.

The vampire cradled Oscar against his shoulder, and the song flooded his mind utterly. All he could think of now was how good it felt to be allowed to sleep. A comforting hand was rubbing a circle on his back as he started to drift off, his eyelids sealing shut and refusing to open again.

"Good, good hunter. Fast asleep and dreaming," said the vampire. "You just want to protect them, don't you? Your guild, your friends."

"Mmm… I need to protect them…"

"I have someone I want to protect too. A human -- he's the stars and the sunshine to me. You understand."

A long-ago memory of better times flit through Oscar's mind, and then evaporated. "I understand."

"Thank goodness," the vampire said, with what seemed to be deep, genuine relief. "I'm finally, finally, finally going to get what I need, after so long." He held Oscar tight, the vampire actually held him in a soothing embrace, and Oscar couldn't help but lean into it, sinking deeper asleep. The vampire's song began to change, then, still a lullaby, but one of obedience and submission, and Oscar's mind seemed to know exactly how to respond. "What's your name?"

"Oscar…"

"Oscar, sir."

"Oscar, sir." The manner of a thrall. He was merely a thrall, now. He always knew, deep down inside, that he would end up like this someday. How many times had he looked into the eyes of a poor, ensorcelled man and wondered if that might have been him?

"Very good, Oscar. Nice and obedient. I'm Alexander. I just want to ask you a few questions now, and you're going to answer them so easily and truthfully, dropping deeper into trance for me."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I have sixteen of your hunters, plus you and two more tonight -- nineteen so far."

Oscar's breath caught. Nineteen! They didn't stand a chance.

"How many more are there in the guild?"

"Twenty-seven in total, sir," he reported dutifully. "And occasionally some freelancers. We've always been too short-staffed for this city."

Alexander chuckled. "That's what I always suspected, but I didn't realize it was quite that few. Not enough humans willing to throw their lives away on a pointless cause, I suppose."

Even under this heavy spell, Oscar couldn't help but bristle. "Pointless, sir?"

"No, no, forget I said that. Back asleep, Oscar, back to sleep and dreams and answering all of my questions." Alexander hummed into Oscar's ear, and his momentary offense disappeared. "Twenty-seven will have to be enough. Which out of your guild is most resistant to vampiric influence?"

"Grace, sir."

"Grace. Yes, I suppose I could have guessed that myself. She shot me, you know, before I took her mind. You should be proud."

Oscar's smile at hearing how Grace fought turned sour. "You took her mind, sir."

"Yes."

"Please spare her life, sir. If you must feed, you can feed on me, but spare her life. She has a daughter."

"You needn't fear that. I'm not going to kill her or feed from her -- and that goes for you all."

"Sir…?" Oscar couldn't fathom what else a vampire would do with an enthralled hunter apart from feed and kill.

"I only need you to do what you're best at, killing a vampire. Do that, and I'll wipe the memory and let you go." His song drove his words home, convincing Oscar's sleeping mind to obey, to give the vampire what he needs. "You're going to help me capture the rest of your guild, easily and without bloodshed, and you're going to help me formulate a plan to destroy a very ancient and dangerous vampire. Do this for me, succeed in killing my sire, and you and your guild will walk free. You want to protect your guild, don't you?"

"I want to protect my guild, sir…"

A vision flashed through his head of the hunters crumpled on the floor, of June sinking into enchanted sleep, of Grace's haunted eyes. Of himself, so docile in the arms of a vampire. He hadn't protected them, had he?

That unpleasant thought was washed away as Alexander continued to speak.

----

Lex was exhausted by the time he arrived back at the manor, but his exhaustion was mixed with relief at having actually succeeded. If this had gone wrong, it could've easily been his last night on Earth -- but instead, he had managed to enthrall an entire hunter's guild.

Would even that be enough?

"Lex!" Fitz came running out of the music room and into the foyer as soon as Lex was in the door. His eyes swept over Lex. "I don't see any crossbow bolts or silver knives sticking from you -- was your mission a success?"

Lex felt himself breaking into a smile. "It went as well as it possibly could have. I'm now in control of the vampire hunter's guild."

In an instant, Fitz was pressing against him so hard that he stumbled backwards into the door, soft warm lips meeting his. He was so warm, and his hair was so soft…

"Now you'll be able to take care of your sire, right?" said Fitz eagerly.

"Soon. I have more preparation to do. I have to enforce their enthrallment, especially the ones I only caught tonight, and I have to assist with formulating the plan. I need to tell them everything I know about my sire and his manor, to give them the best chance of success."

Anxiety bubbled within him as he looked down at Fitz's adoring grin. If he failed here, it wouldn't just be his own wellbeing on the line. He could take his sire's punishments. But he couldn't stand to see Fitz's happiness crushed, his joy turned to despair, his light gone forever.

"I have my first comeback performance in a few days, remember?" said Fitz. "I'll be back on the stage, you'll get rid of your sire… we'll both be free."

"Free," Lex repeated.

Fitz wasn't free, not really, but…

Without his sire's curse…

It was something he rarely dared to dream about. With his sire gone, he and Fitz could do as they pleased for the rest of their lives. They could leave this city and travel the world. He could help Fitz become a major success, see his name in lights like he deserved. He could collect books in peace, play music without his sire's voice echoing in his mind. He could love Fitz properly, give him everything he wanted and needed. No one would hurt either of them, not ever again.

He couldn't fail here. It simply wasn't an option.

"Yes. We're going to be free."

Fitz wrapped one hand around his waist and took his other hand, and began leading him around the foyer in a lively dance to imaginary music.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week, a young Lex meets his new music teacher.

For more mind control fun, consider reading my side story for Augusnippets, Human Resistance. It's about a ragged band of humans trying to keep their autonomy in the face of an unstoppable alien threat.

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#whump #whump writing #vampires #mind control #hypnosis #vampire hunter #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz #oscar #grace

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whumpsoda · 8 months ago

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Coming Back to Bite You Part 1 - Swept Up

Masterlist

Finally putting this out there, hopefully I continue it :) updates will probably be pretty slow and gradual!

cw: vampire whumper, kidnapping, hypnosis, alcohol use, mention of death

———————————————————————

He was going to throw up.

Marshall gripped the can of beer in one calloused hand, taking an aggressive swig of the beverage, still cold droplets of liquid dribbling over his fingers. His throat bobbed with each continuing gulp, and his stomach churned in a boil of acidic bile. The bitter taste of alcohol coated his mouth, swishing off his tongue and dancing down his throat, until he realized he was going to choke. Marshall’s moist lips released the can with a weak gasp.

He lazily dropped it to the concrete with a clang, the last sip of liquid slipping And seeping into the cracks of the concrete. With a groan he dug his trembling hands into the skin of his flushed face, bits of dried and cracked blood still crammed in rings underneath his crooked nails.

The sour smell of gore still tainted his runny nostrils, infecting the scent of his several tossed away and half finished drinks. Begrudged tears pricked at his eyes, leaving his vision glassy and wet as he desperately tried to wipe them gone.

He should’ve be used to it. Five plus years of vampire hunting experience should’ve prepared him, but it didn’t. It never did.

Marshall choked back a soft sob, brushing at his face roughly in an attempt to rid the tears stained with embarrassment. He didn’t know why he did it. Why he had for five years, and why he continued to. Why he still didn’t quit after seeing yet another young newbie die a gruesome death at the hand of a monstrous creature, with nothing to do to stop it.

How pathetic.

“Something wrong?”

His limbs froze rigid, the sharp, close words cutting through the nightly silence. He shifted, gaze meeting with that of a small woman seated neatly beside him.

Her face was shadowed by the light shining upon her back, but he could still clearly see her soft grin and glittering eyes.

“Um,” he sputtered, gears turning to catch his mind up with his mouth. “Leave, leave me alone.”

She grinned, eerily soft and sweet, tilting her head a smidge. The essence of a mother speaking to her child. “I’d love to help.”

Help? Puzzled anger bubbled bigger in his belly, only strengthened by her audaciousness. “I said,” he snarled, face twisting and seething, his crooked teeth bared in likeness to that of the creatures he was trained to kill. “Leave me alone.”

“Driving home?”

Marshall groaned, sickly, taking a peek at his tattered old truck sitting in the empty lot. His vision shifted, rolling down to the can he’d placed beside his foot, previously filled with alcohol.

He gritted his teeth, grabbing the can once again and lifting it to his lips as the stranger watched. “Yeah? So what?” He spat, taking a petty sip.

The woman sighed, her smug grin never so much as faltering. “Just thought I’d remind you.” She huffed, holding back a chuckle.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?” Marshall grumbled, glaring sharply at the stranger. She simply giggled, dripping with condescension, waving him off. Was it so hard to get five minutes to himself?

“Oh, you are very funny, dear. A bit temperamental as well, I see.” She chuckled again.

What was her problem?

That was it. It was not the time. The stranger obviously didn’t have anything better to do than irritate someone crying in the middle of nowhere covered in grime and vampire blood, and seemed to be having a good time with it. Marshall, on the other hand, was no short of seething.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his cheeks of sweat and tears and adjusting his coat. Without another word he stepped to leave.

To his surprise, shocking strength wrapped around his wrist, holding him back and leaving him unable to walk off.

“Oh, please don’t go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sit back down with me, won’t you?”

Marshall stared back in bewilderment at the woman firmly clutching his wrist. What? Confusion was boggling him, poking at his brain. Was she crazy? Who was she to think he would follow her request? After she’d been practically taunting him when he was obviously distressed?

Though-

He paused. He had meant to snap another insolent response, but nothing came out. Why did he-

His vision swiftly glazed over blurry, fogging up his eyes as they turned glassy and unfocused. Marshall wobbled in his spot, legs buckling and shivering with weakness. The ground spun under him, dizzying his head and coating his mind with wretched nausea. His fingers reached out for something to grab, something to stabilize him.

He needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit-

He lazily stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, plopping right back into his seat. This time, he was a smidge closer to the woman. Marshall’s head lolled into his hand, catching himself from such dizzying disorientation.

Why was he… back on the bench? Was he not just about to leave? Was she touching him?

Lightly she rubbed in circles over his back, a motion he almost took no notice of. “Sorry about that, dear. It’s alright now.”

“I… what…?” Marshall slurred, his mind still a thick sludge that desperately gripped the walls of his, hopeful not to slip further into befuddlement.

He… he’d felt similar. Before. Marshall knew the sensation well, the sensation of his brain slipping through his fingers like water, liquified and stolen right out from his own control. Stomped to mush.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no-

“Very pretty rings you have. Mind if I take a look?” She held his hand between both of her gloved ones, fingers trailing over silver that glimmered in the light.

“Um…”

Not waiting for an answer, the stranger swiftly slipped each ring off each finger, holding them oh so carefully. “Very nice. Very.” She inspected them for a moment, right before turning and tossing them in a garbage bin behind her.

With widened eyes he sputtered, lazily trying to claw for them a second too late. She swept right back into his personal space, forcing him to retreat back with distraction. “Hm. And what might that be?”

She pointed to his pocket.

To his wooden stake, a necessity for vampire hunters.

It couldn’t be-

“I- you, that’s-”

Before he could so much as react, she slipped it right from him with her impossibly quick and nimble hands. “A wooden stake? Silly, silly.” She tisked, ignoring his growing concern and tossing it to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, and with drowsy, draped eyes Marshall watched it crawl out of reach. “You won’t be needing that.”

Please, no-

“You! You- you’re-!” Voice rising with muddled heat, his brain’s realization was catching up with his mouth.

Oh, God-

“Relax. I’m just here to help you. Calm down, dear.”

“N-no… you’re-! Get off me!” He swiped at her outstretched hand, feebly slapping it away.

How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let a vampire so close? How? He’d been so distressed and out of it from that nights job he hadn’t even noticed. What a fool, what a fool, what a fool.

He recoiled, jumping right off the bench and running. With his brain already such a mangled mess he nearly fell over, only catching himself with one hand and pushing himself back up.

His steps were slow and drowsy, swaying arduously and dramatically on his weighted feet. Nonchalantly the stranger stood behind him, taking her sweet time to catch up.

“Go-! Go away! Go away!” he hollered, stumbling around in a growing daze toward his truck, slipping over nothing several times. Her follow persisted. “Go away!”

Her vampiric aura strengthened by the second, taking hold of his susceptible mind and pushing him back into a distant, fuzzy haze. His words were tumbling and quieting, his movements gradually decreasing.

“N- no… no… leave…! Go…”

Soon enough subtle fingers trailed swiftly down his spine, stopping him in place. “Shhh, shhh… relax, dear. Just allow your limbs to go all numb and sleepy.”

His shoulders buckled, jaw falling slack under the immense weight of hypnotic force. Even still, infected by disgusting pleasure, his stomach tensed with sour acid. “Nooo…”

She walked around him, meeting his gaze with sweet, mind melting eyes. “I know you must be scared, little one. My apologies for messing with you, I just couldn’t help it. I’ll be nice now, okay? So be a good boy and just sleep.”

Easy. She’d overpowered him, so easily. Five years of practice and he’d lost just like that. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. How could he not hate himself? How could he not detest the world for such a fate he never deserved? Five years of service and he was going to lose his life at the hands of a vampire?

He’d been so careful.

“Just calm, oh so calm. Your mind settles, all sleepy and exhausted. Just let go for now. I won’t hurt you.” She soothed, cupping his face in her palms.

“Nuh… no… go…”

He didn’t want to let go. He had to escape. He wanted to escape. He wanted…

He wanted…

“Let… go…”

She smiled, warmth spreading through his belly, a blissful, distracting sensation that scattered any coherent thoughts clawing to the edges of his mind. “Good, good. Let go, dear. Just for a bit. You’ll have a very nice nap, okay? It’s all dark out here, which means you must be very tired. And nighttime means you sleep, doesn’t it?”

Marshall yawned, head lolling and body melting. He’d like a nap. He’d been working so dreadfully hard, he deserved one, did he not? A nap would be just wonderful.

“Aw, how cute. You’re so drowsy. Just falling asleep right in my arms, huh? Lovely. An easy catch, weren’t you?” He hummed in agreement, her words flowing through one ear and out the other. He was swiftly floating into unconsciousness, head gradually falling forward into his chest. “Shh… so very relaxed, sleep just holding your putty like mind in it’s hands. Just let go to the call of sleep and exhaustion. I know you want to, dear.”

It was strange, how delightful it felt. He’d been enthralled before, but never so deeply and thoroughly. His brain never so overridden. Why had he ever fought it? Why had he ever rejected such heaven? Marshall couldn’t so much as think of an answer.

Or, think at all, really.

Placing the kind pressure of her hand on the back of his neck, she easily guided the exhausted Marshall’s slick with sweat forehead into the nape of her neck.

“Good boy, good boy. Just let all your worries go. I tried so hard to make this easy on you, I know how easily fussy you humans can get. But everything is fine and calm. Calm and sleepy. Sleepy and relaxed. The darkness of the night makes you oh so exhausted and ready for bed.”

He shivered from the sound of praise, as well as the vampire stroking down his arms and stirring more pleasant feel as he drifted, brain coming to a stop. It felt better than it ever had to fall asleep. He smiled, and so did she. Even in the middle of winter, he’d never felt so pleasantly warm.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She whispered sweetly, rocking him gently like a small child into an entranced sleep. “I’ll take great care of you, dear.”

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Coming back to bite you #Whump #whumpblr #whump story #vampire #vampire story #vampire whumper #whump writing #my writing #Marshall oc #Evangeline oc #Vampire hunter #enthralled #hypnotized #hypnosis #hypnosis whump #hypnotized whumpee #kidnapping

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master-of-humiliations · 2 months ago

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An Old Project of Mine...

There was a girl I was working with some years ago, for some years, on hypnotizing and bimbofying her, or more accurately, making her into a perfect cow.

To start with, she was a C-cup, A-B student with multiple honors classes, and was a switch, submissive to men, dominant to women. She was an avid roleplayer, as she couldn't get the itch scratched IRL due to a lack of community, hence how we met online.

It started slowly, nightly audio tracks for her to sleep to, seep the messages into her subconscious mind, cam sessions to keep her nice and happy in the mean time!

Eventually, we started on the physical changes. Changing up her diet to include foods such as almonds, eggs, cheese, and milk, as well as some name brand lactation-inducing medication she included into her meals and drinks.

The first change to happen was her starting to have difficulty reading. It started bit by bit, where she would lose sentences and have to go back, but eventually got to the point where she fully lost the ability to focus while reading, losing the ability to roleplay in the process and having to fully rely on our cam sessions for any sort of relief. She ended up dropping out of school for failing.

Second thing to change, was the change from a switch to a full-on sub with no desire to dominate, unless it was, as we discussed, a "fellow cow to help teach the ropes".

Third, and this took the longest, was the gradual increase in bust size. She went up to a DD cup, and at her peak of lactation when she was properly hydrated, could produce half a cup. She leaked constantly, usually keeping pads under her bra or shirt when ordered to go braless.

Fourth change was the most fun, in my opinion. She started to get desperately masochistic. We were planning on how to get here from there to here, and as it would be a multiple-day drive, she insisted that I fist until her holes were ruined the night we'd be at a hotel/motel. Another cam session, she wanted orders for nipple torture, all quite fun!

There was one moment deep in the hypnosis where her old self peaked through, and was utterly terrified that she was failing every class, couldn't stop mooing, and had a hard time reading, but the new her returned fairly quickly. Was rather amusing, honestly.

Unfortunately, this story doesn't have as happy an ending as you'd hope. She had a mental break and completely ghosted without warning, so... the long and short of it is, make sure, if you go down this path, your mental fortitude is either strong enough to endure, or weak enough to crumble completely.

#bimbofied #mind control #brainwashing #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #bimbo doll #dumbimbofication #hypnotized #hypnotism #bimbo training #humiliation kink

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chronically-ghosted · 1 year ago

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the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour.

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round.

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known.

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity.

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it.

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying.

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth.

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.”

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?”

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.”

Trish smacked him over the back of the head.

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks.

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious.

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely.

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled.

“To Ned!”

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye.

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?”

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick.

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?”

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat.

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo.

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap.

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour.

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening.

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you.

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement.

At least, the only person you can see.

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing.

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked.

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all.

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze.

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here!

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way.

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap.

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.”

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint.

Caravaggio, eat your heart out.

“Max, what the fuck was that?”

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall.

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple.

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth.

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise.

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder.

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you.

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier.

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth.

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt.

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose.

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?”

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.”

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,”

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits.

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around.

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down.

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat.

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt.

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .”

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you.

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation.

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.”

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear.

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this.

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily.

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,”

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you.

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning.

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.”

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.”

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs.

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.”

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours.

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office.

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be.

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable.

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin.

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that.

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks.

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.”

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.”

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.”

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours.

It is dangerous, your feelings for him.

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes.

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door.

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water.

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches.

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords.

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term.

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world.

#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters

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healthyhypnosisau · 2 years ago

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How To Quit Alcohol Using Clinical Hypnosis

So, you want to quit alcohol using clinical hypnosis? Congratulations! This article will provide you with an overview of how to use clinical hypnosis to quit alcohol.

Step 1: Research

Before you begin using clinical hypnosis to quit alcohol, it is important that you do your research. You need to find a clinical hypnotherapist who specialises in helping people quit alcohol and has experience with this type of therapy. Once you have found a therapist, it is important that you schedule an appointment and discuss your goals for quitting alcohol.

Step 2: Make a List of Your Goals

Before you begin using hypnosis to quit alcohol, it is important that you make a list of your goals. You need to be specific about what you want to achieve.

For example, if your goal is to stop drinking alcohol completely, make a list of all the things that will need to change in order for you to achieve this goal. These might include:

-Making a commitment to yourself that you will not drink alcohol again

-Identifying any triggers that lead you to drink alcohol

-Creating a plan of action that will help you avoid drinking alcohol when these triggers are present.

Step 3: Begin the Clinical Hypnosis Session

Clinical Hypnosis can be a very effective tool for quitting alcohol. In this session, we will explore how hypnosis can help you make the decision to quit alcohol and live a healthier life.

Once you have made your goals and identified your triggers, it is time to start the hypnosis session

Once you have researched how to quit alcohol using hypnosis, the next step is to make a list of your goals. This list should include things like reducing your drinking frequency, cutting back on how much you drink each day, or quitting completely. You should also make a list of any other goals that are important to you such as improving your

Step 4: Choose a Clinical Hypnotherapist in Your Area

The next step is to find a clinical hypnotherapist in your area who can help you quit alcohol. There are many resources available online that can help you find a therapist. You can also ask friends, family, or your doctor for recommendations. OR search Australia’s peak body for clinically trained hypnotherapists website- GoAH. Guild of Australian hypnotherapist.

In that website, based in Woonona, just outside Wollongong, you will find Michael Haber’s details. He has held a practice for 10 years and specialises in addictions.

Call Michael now to chat about creating a brighter, clearer and focused future. Simply call Michael on 1300-114-557 today.

#hypnosis to quit drinking #quit drinking hypnosis #hypnosis to stop drinking #stop drinking alcohol hypnosis #hypnosis to stop drinking wine #quit alcohol hypnosis #hypnosis stop drinking #can hypnosis help you stop drinking #hypnosis for alcohol #hypnosis for alcoholism #alcohol hypnosis #hypnosis for alcohol addiction #hypnosis for drinking #hypnotherapy alcohol #hypnotherapy for alcoholism

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 month ago

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Through the Veil of Darkness

Also on AO3

Pairing: Father Paul/Monsignor Pruitt x Fem!Reader

Summary: Inspired by the myth of Eros and Psyche -- two souls that meet in the darkness find ways to love without seeing each other… even if the darkness conceals more than just appearances.

WC: 6.5k words

Warnings: MINORS DNI this fic is 18+, vampirism, accidental vampire hypnosis kinda?, sleepwalking, blood drinking, some mentions of violence, hierophilia, fluff with eventual smut, some angst, unprotected p in v, ummm I think that's it but lmk if anything else!

-------------------

“Love looks not with the eyes.”

— William Shakespeare.

————————

First, you felt the balmy ocean breeze slicking your skin. The not-so-distant roar of the waves reached your ears and you tasted salt on your lips all too vividly, piercing through the fog of your unconscious state. Whatever it was you were dreaming of dissolved like seafoam on the sand, leaving behind the nebulous blue darkness of your eyelids.

Consciousness returned to you unhurriedly, weighing down your limbs until you were fully aware of them. A tingling sensation ran up your spine, and your eyes fluttered beneath the lids. You opened them to find more darkness, but you could immediately tell you weren’t anywhere near your bedroom.

It was a moonless night, with only the pinprick lights of the stars to accompany you. You could feel the damp earth beneath your bare feet, a chill threatening to seep into your bones, but you had nothing else to cover yourself with.

There was no fear at first, though, only a mild curiosity – a sort of compelling that you couldn’t ignore. Your eyes adjusted slightly to the darkness, allowing you to better see the silhouettes of the pine trees huddling close together in front of you. Behind you, there was the incessant roll and pull of the waves, spraying over the rocks as they crashed against them.

In all the years you’d had sleepwalking issues, you had never strayed so far from home. What’s more, you didn’t feel entirely there, but instead in an in-between place, like you were an outside witness to yourself. You couldn’t help but stare at the water, vast and unfathomable. Had it been the sea that called to you in dreams?

No, that didn’t feel quite right. But then, what was it?

Your heart skipped a beat as the reality of the situation slowly sank in, the beginnings of anxiety dancing in your sternum. You glanced around, but you didn’t really have a sense of direction without being able to see clearly. Still, it was a good idea to get as far away from the water as possible, just in case.

You walked slowly, your hands raised in front of you uncertainly. When you reached the treeline, you realized it would be impossible to navigate through the thick foliage in your current condition. Your best bet would be to wait until morning came…

You couldn’t help a small whimper as dread sank to the pit of your stomach like a stone. You wrung your hands agitatedly, mind starting to scramble for another solution. How long until twilight? You wondered. Should be able to see a little better by then, right?

“A little lost, are we?” A low voice suddenly said, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

You froze in place, fear unleashing itself in hot and cold flashes all over your body. You hadn’t even considered that you wouldn’t be alone out there. For a terrible moment that temporarily halted time, it occurred to you that you might be dead.

But a violent somersault in your chest made you finally inhale sharply, reassuring you that you were very much alive – and very much vulnerable. The voice had sounded like it was close by, but you couldn’t be sure which side. Still, you could feel a heavy gaze on you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Your own voice was tremulous as you asked. “Who’s there?”

You heard the foliage gently rustling a little too close for comfort, a snapping twig nearly making you bolt like a spooked deer. The harsh pounding of your heart was like a dinner bell that had him salivating like a Pavlovian dog. All of his senses urged him to leap forward and secure his meal, but his body was tense and rooted to the spot.

He silently chastised himself, holding on tight of his self-control. It was precisely because of his nature that he did not reveal himself to you, but he could see you clear as day. In fact, he had seen you wandering out there, slow, deliberate steps leading you in his direction.

He hadn’t been conscious of his compelling you, but he still did not fully understand all the new gifts that had been bestowed upon him. He thought it was perhaps due to the dangerous hunger stirring in his gut, an instinctual blind search for his next meal. He swallowed hard before continuing.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said soothingly, his voice still barely above a whisper. “Trust me, I realize how this must seem, but I’m just here to help.”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, considering this. “How come you don’t have a flashlight with you?”

“Oh, er, I… guess I just forgot one. Silly me, didn’t cross my mind,” he said, and it partly sounded like he was admonishing himself for the slip-up.

You took a small step back, apprehensive but trying not to show it. You figured it was best to stay on his good side, just in case, but putting up a front didn’t mean you would be so trusting.

“I suppose I should count myself lucky that you were out searching for lost souls…” you said, a sarcastic edge to your tone.

He let out an amused breath. “Couldn’t sleep, more like. I saw you out on the road and followed to make sure you were safe. I’ve heard it’s wiser not to wake up sleepwalkers.”

“Deal with them much, do you?”

“No, you happen to be my first one.”

You hummed in thought. The whole thing was so bizarre that you couldn’t entirely believe you weren’t still dreaming. Somehow though, despite your general standoffishness, the fear seemed to be dissipating. Perhaps it was better just to go along with it for the time being.

“So… Will you tell me who you are?” You asked.

“Do you always ask so many questions?” He countered, stalling.

“Valid ones, yes.”

His hesitation was palpable in the following silence. Your heart rate was slowing down, though, which was a good sign. Some tension left his body in a long exhale, but he still wasn’t sure what to say.

“Just think of me as…” He trailed off.

“My guardian angel, of sorts?” You offered.

He couldn’t help a faint smile, which you couldn’t see but you could hear as he said. “Of sorts, yes.”

You let out an amused huff, deciding not to press it. Crockett Island was a rather small place, so you figured you’d find out your savior’s identity soon enough. A gust of wind blew in from the water and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest to try to fend off the chill.

“Well then, angel,” you said, trying to keep your teeth from chattering. “Will you help me get home before I die of hypothermia?”

“Yes,” he said, and you heard rustling once more, growing closer. “Hold out your hand.”

“What for?”

He merely chuckled in response, and you pursed your lips. Perhaps it was a little silly, but how could he expect you not to ask so many questions?

You swallowed hard and flexed your fingers, not knowing what to expect. Slowly, you reached a shaky hand out, your skin prickling with hyperawareness. For a moment, you thought you wouldn’t feel anything at all — That he might just be a fear-induced hallucination to get you through the worst of it.

But then you felt his cool, steady hand wrap around yours, making you gasp.

Your heartbeat spiked once more, but it was short-lived. Still, he held his breath as he drew you closer, so you could actually feel his physical presence. He saw your eyes widen and your lips part slightly, perhaps in marvel, or alarm, or a combination of both, but it was a charming look all the same.

“Stay close and just follow me,” he said. “I’ll let you know if there are any obstacles.”

You bit back any further questions on how he would be able to do that, instead just humming in assent. He couldn’t help another chuckle at this, sensing it must have taken a great effort.

The walk through the woods was awkward and halting at first, but soon the two of you found a rhythm. He kept to his word, patiently leading you around anything that came up on your path.

Once, he even had to lift you off a larger boulder, his hands securely gripping your waist. He didn’t even grunt with effort, as if you were light as a feather. Your face felt hot and you were glad he couldn’t see you getting flustered… Or at least, that’s what you thought. He had the strangest urge to cup your face and swipe his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek to feel its warmth.

Instead, he took your hand again and kept going. There was the faintest glimmer of light in the distance, through a small gap in the trees. You thought your mind might be playing tricks on you again, but as you continued, it grew in brightness, and you let out a little laugh of relief.

“Almost there,” he said. “There’s a break in the trees just up ahead.”

Excitement made you go faster, walking by his side and eventually surpassing him. The world beyond the forest became more and more visible, as if you were passing through a tunnel leading out of a nightmare. You nearly tripped over a large rock in your haste, yelping in surprise, but he swiftly caught and steadied you.

“Careful.” He chuckled. “Eager to leave me behind, are you?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, still walking ahead. “Aren’t you going to walk me back to my house?”

“Er… Not quite. This is as far as I can take you.”

You reached the break in the trees, glancing back over your shoulder and realizing that he truly wouldn’t follow you any further. He hadn’t emerged and you couldn’t even see his silhouette amongst the trees. You frowned, your momentary relief melting back into confusion.

“Can’t you at least come out into the light?” You asked. “I’d like to see what my savior looks like.”

For a moment, he said nothing, watching you from his spot further in. He chewed on his thumbnail anxiously, trying to think. Already the night had a strange quality to it, but the consequences of him revealing himself – and therefore what he was – would be very much real. And besides, the sun’s rising was imminent, and he had to get back to the rectory before that happened.

“Afraid not,” he said finally.

“Why?”

“Some things are best left as mysteries,” he said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

You hummed noncommittally, biting back the urge to continue being stubborn. The sky was just beginning to lighten on the horizon, tinting it a deep red. A part of you wanted to stay and watch the sunrise, but exhaustion was beginning to weigh on you. It would be a little silly to keep questioning him at that point, anyway. Things would regain their normalcy once again in the daylight, and all you had to do was go back to sleep until then.

“Well, thank you for helping me,” you said defeatedly, trying to stifle a yawn. “I would say I owe you one, but I’m not even sure if we’ll ever meet again…”

“Maybe in another dream,” he said, the smallest note of sadness in his tone.

You smiled faintly, and for the briefest second, you thought you saw a pair of eyes reflecting a hint of light through the foliage. “Maybe, indeed.”

—————————

It rained for a whole week after that night, the dense showers droning on at all hours of the day. The sound of it lulled you into a state of reminiscence, going over what happened over and over again. The finer details had become foggier, slipping through your fingers slowly as time passed.

Sometimes they were clearer in dreams, like a beacon calling you back out into the night. You even woke up to find yourself standing on the porch once, one foot already on the steps. After that, you made sure to set up extra precautions around the house so you wouldn’t end up walking right out into the downpour. It was one thing to get lost when the weather was mild, but you didn’t think you’d be so lucky in harsher conditions.

You spent some of those days researching angels and other sorts of spiritual figures, but all that influx of information – oftentimes filled with contradictions or addendums – only served to confuse you further. There were even forums with accounts of people supposedly having similar encounters, but somehow you still felt like you were dealing with something else entirely. After a time, you figured that trying to find answers on the internet was likely a worthless pursuit.

Even in dreams, you were unable to conjure what he might look like, this angel of yours. You hadn’t told anyone else about the encounter, not only for fear of seeming like you were losing your mind, but also because it was kind of nice to have something just for yourself.

You wondered if somehow, he’d been keeping an eye on you since you’d returned home. The idea was both titillating and unnerving, since you weren’t sure which answer to that question would be better. But of course, it was impossible he’d be anywhere nearby in such conditions.

Gradually, without you noticing before it was too late, the storm worsened. Lightning streaked the bruise colored sky, the low rumble of thunder following soon after. The wind howled furiously, battering at your windows, and it wasn’t long before the lights went out.

Plunged in that nearly cavernous darkness, you had a slight sense of déjà vu, your skin prickling slightly once more. You didn’t move at first, listening instead for anything out of the ordinary. But there was nothing, of course, and you were still very much alone.

With little options left, you sighed heavily and slowly made your way to your room to try to get some sleep. With the storm raging on, it wasn’t that hard, and before you even realized it, you passed out. There were no dreams then, only a blissful unconsciousness where the hours ticked by unnoticed.

When the storm finally abated, you woke up to silence in the middle of the night. When you tried to switch on your bedside lamp, you found that the power was still out. You wondered what time it was as you threw open your window to let in the fresh, lingering smell of petrichor.

You leaned against the windowsill and the first verdant lungful of it seemed to revitalize you, the cool breeze caressing your face. There was another smell, too, so faint you couldn’t really place it. Something metallic. Copper, maybe?

The only sound was that of the wind rustling the trees as it rushed past. Then suddenly, you heard the squelch of wet leaves as someone took a step. Immediately, all of your senses were alert. Your eyes scanned the dark outdoors, but you saw nothing but vague silhouettes.

Another step to your left side, closer than before, and you leaned a little further out the window. The metallic scent seemed to grow a little stronger, and you thought you heard a breath. A small tinge of fear nearly made you shudder, but it was at the uncertainty more than anything else.

Could it really be…?

There was only one way to find out.

“Hello, my angel. Seems like you’ve found me again,” you said to the darkness, unable to help smiling a little. “How did you manage it this time?”

A moment of silence passed, in which you weren’t sure if you’d even get a response. Then, you heard him clear his throat.

“Let’s just call it a stroke of luck,” he said, humor in his tone. “Missed me much, dear somnambulist?”

“I was curious when our dreams might intersect again…” you said, skirting the question. “What about you? Couldn’t keep away?”

“So it seems,” he said, the words softer than you’d expected. You could swear he was smiling, too. “Now, don’t go interrogating me again, alright?”

“Oh, you’re not fair. I have so many questions I wanted to ask.”

“Such as?”

“Such as… Why won’t you let me see you?” you said, deciding not to beat around the bush. “Surely you’re not one of those monstrous beings from biblical times, are you? I would think it would be easier to tell if you were…”

He chuckled, but the word monstrous still gave him pause. Oh, if only you knew. The angel he had met back in that ancient cave had been something magnificently horrifying to behold, but though he was now of that ilk, their physical differences could not be greater.

Even so, the acts he’d committed since his transfiguration were far from saintly. He wondered how you would react if you found out the truth… and he found that he did not really want to know the answer.

“The dark just suits me better,” he said simply, watching as you pursed your lips in annoyance. “You’ve been trying to envision me, hm?”

“To no avail…” you muttered, but then an idea struck you. “Come closer, will you?”

“What for?”

“Well, if I can’t see you, then maybe I could just trace your features with my fingers instead,” you said. “Maybe that’ll help improve my imagination.”

He swallowed hard, torn between wanting to cave in immediately and wanting to be sensible. He was already craving you deeply — had been absolutely tormented by it for days, even — so he didn’t entirely trust himself not to get too lost in the smallest touch.

He wanted you, he couldn’t lie to himself about that, but he also wanted to eat you. It was quite the conundrum… but of course, he wouldn’t let himself do the latter.

“I’m not so sure…” he said finally.

“You can touch mine too, if you’d like. That’d make us even.” You offered, unable to ignore a small tingle of anticipation.

Tentatively, you reached out a hand, both in a placating and inviting manner. You heard him shift his weight, but after a moment, he stepped closer. He took your outstretched hand and helped guide it slowly towards his face, cupping his cheek. He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and keeping himself still.

His skin was soft as if he had just shaved the previous morning, but you could feel the very beginning of stubble regrowing. Your fingers moved up to his cheekbone, slowly tracing underneath his eye until you found his nose.

The tip of your index finger gently went down the bridge of it, and he exhaled with amusement as you tapped the tip of his nose. You smiled, not daring to go lower at that moment, but instead moving back up and feeling his full eyebrows, his lightly lined forehead, and his eyelids.

Then finally, you moved towards the junction where his ear met his jaw, tracing its outline downwards. You found he had a dimple on his chin, which you immediately found charming. There was also a small rough spot near it where something had dried and crusted.

You didn’t really pay it any mind though, as you were too distracted by how close your fingers were to his lips. There was a small sound in his throat that told you he was just as aware of it.

He tilted his head sideways and brushed his lips against your palm delicately, but with a hint of desperation. He kissed every single one of your digits and you, nearly breathless, swiped your thumb slowly over his bottom lip. Unconsciously, you leaned in closer, his breath intermingling with yours.

“I’m starting to think you’re not an angel at all…” you whispered.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Unless that’s what you want.”

Desire made you all too bold, immediately saying, “What I want is to kiss you right now.”

And he didn’t need to be told twice, his mouth immediately melding with yours. His lips were full and softer than you’d expected, his kiss slow and exploratory like he was holding himself back. You threaded your fingers through his hair, which was damp with condensation, and pulled him even closer.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth and he nearly lost his wits entirely. He had already fed, but hunger rose like a tidal wave within him. His hands cupped your face, his tongue dragging over yours. It was like being kissed for the first time all over again, because it felt like nothing you had previously experienced.

You pulled away for air, your faces still inches apart. Your heartbeat was still pounding like a symphony in his head, nearly hypnotizing him. He could spend all of eternity right there, in that perfectly crafted heaven of a moment.

“Do you want to come inside?” You asked, lightly curling a strand of hair at the back of his head around your finger. “I can unlock the front door.”

That seemed to slightly shake him out of his daze, and he licked his lips nervously.

“I… do. I really do, more than anything,” he said slowly, still returning to himself as he fought against his instincts. “But the sun is coming out soon.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m afraid I’m not.”

“This isn’t your way of getting me to beg you to stay, is it?”

He chuckled despite himself. “We both know you wouldn’t need to beg.”

You sighed, but conceded with a hum. “When will I see you again?”

“Tomorrow night… or I guess tonight, technically,” he said, taking your hands as he pulled back and kissing them. “Leave the lights off, I’ll be here as soon as I’m able.”

—————————————————

And he kept his word, returning when the shadows had deepened enough. A soft knock at the front door announced his arrival, and you quickly brought him inside.

You were getting better at navigating in the darkness, so leading him to your room wasn’t such an arduous task. There, you melted into his embrace, breathing him in – something smokey, like incense, with traces of juniper and copper. You could get lost in it, given the chance.

“You know,” he said between kisses. “I don’t believe I had the opportunity to see you for myself.”

“Well, I’m all yours now, and I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

You heard his breath catch at that, making you smile impishly. Even if he was actually able to see you, he repeated the same sacred ritual of anointing your features with his fingers, his hands trembling slightly. But his fingers dared to go lower, tracing down your throat. He felt it work as you swallowed hard.

His ravenous mouth found yours again, unable to help himself. He had you against the wall, his body flush against yours. His knee was inching between your legs, but he seemed in no rush to move things along, his hands remaining in place.

You slid the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, inciting him to get a feel of your clavicles next. His lips ghosted over your jaw, tilting your head sideways to give him more access to your neck. For one delirious moment, his lips parted and he almost let his teeth graze over the sensitive skin of your throat, but he stopped himself.

“May I?” he asked, referring to the thin piece of fabric that just barely covered your chest.

“Yes,” you breathed, barely able to find your voice.

He pulled it down slowly, revealing even more. He made a desirous sound as you arched your back invitingly, silently giving him permission to touch, as well. You took his wrist gently and guided his hand, a small hum in your throat as it made contact with one of your breasts.

“Good lord,” he whispered roughly. “I… What are you doing to me?”

“I just thought you’d want to get a proper look, is all,” you said. “I have nothing to hold back from you.”

He nearly fell to his knees then, still partially in disbelief that this was happening. Your trust was not a gift he had been expecting, but the enormity of it rocked him. He couldn’t just take advantage of that, having already hidden so much from you. His fingers splayed over your sternum as he thought, enjoying what could be the last moments of your warmth.

“I… must make a confession first,” he said, swallowing hard. “I am not what you think I am.”

“Oh?” you prompted, intrigued even if you’d thought you were past that for the moment.

“I am not an angel, that much is true, but I am not just a human, either.”

You frowned, unsure if he was just pulling your leg. “Okay… What then?”

It was his turn to grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to his face. His lips parted, and you felt your index finger against his canine. A small, quick movement of his head and you felt a sharp sting that made you gasp. His lips wrapped around your digit, where a bead of blood had formed, and realization sunk in like a stone to the bottom of a lake – heavy, and yet slow.

“Oh…” you said breathlessly. “Oh. You’re, um, you’re not going to… Are you?”

“No, no, I won’t hurt you,” he said hastily as you pulled your hand back. “But I cannot lie and say a part of me doesn’t want to… Though I will not let myself.”

You didn’t move, trying to finish processing the revelation as a million thoughts raced through your mind. You hadn’t noticed anything strange when you’d felt his face, but you weren’t entirely sure if he was able to change his features. Could vampires even do that?

“Are you afraid?” he asked, the barest hint of hurt in his tone.

You realized you werent, but maybe you were still numb with shock. Perhaps a part of you even expected something like this, given the circumstances of your meetings.

“I should be, shouldn’t I?” You said, partially to yourself.

He let out a sigh of what seemed to be relief, and it was then you also realized you were still willing to give him a chance, foolish as it may be. But that would be contingent on his being completely truthful with you going forward.

You wrung your hands together, antsy. Curse your tender heart, and what consequences it may bring!

“Can I see you, then?” You asked. “I deserve that much, at least.”

Your floorboards creaked as he shifted his weight. “Yes, though I think you’ll find this is not my only confession.”

“Two for one,” you murmured, half-heartedly joking. “Have you been… fearing it might drive me away for good?”

“Yes. Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

You hummed pensively, further moved by his sincerity. “I’m more open minded than you might think, but don’t push your luck.”

He let out an amused huff, stepping back to give you space. You partially pulled your shirt back up, holding it in place with one hand.

“I am completely at your mercy,” he said thickly as you reached blindly for your bedside lamp.

“And I yours.”

You finally found it and switched it on, repeatedly blinking at the sudden change. And so you saw him, lean and tall, with locks of jet black hair that matched his equally dark eyes. His handsome face was actually familiar, but it was not one you had ever greeted up close… Well, at least not in the daylight.

“You-you are the new…”

“Priest,” he finished for you, nodding.

Your eyes widened some and you tried to cover yourself up more. “And you’re really, um…?”

“Proof that there is something higher than ourselves,” he said, sighing once more. “At least, that’s how I try to think of it.”

“I was going to say vampire, but I guess you’re not really wrong there.”

You slumped down on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. It was strange to see that he was made of flesh and blood instead of just mysticism and starlight, but there was a certain comfort in his solidity. Even knowing what — and who — he was, it was more reassuring than the uncertainty of darkness.

Thrilling as that may have been before, the change in circumstances brought about a different type of thrill that you couldn’t very well deny. You just had to organize your thoughts first.

“I’m really sorry, I never meant to deceive you,” he said, gingerly sitting down next to you. “I… never even thought we would get here, to this moment. I thought I would become a distant fantasy that you’d eventually forget.”

“But we just couldn’t help ourselves, could we?” You said, looking over at him and studying his features more closely. “I mean, really, I’d have walked right out into that storm for you to find me again, I don’t have any doubts about that. I… still think I would.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle and the two of you shared a lingering look that held a certain tenderness. Then you bit your lower lip in contemplative hunger, the fluttering feeling in your lower belly not having simmered out.

“What about your vows?” You asked.

“I believe it’s much too late for those, seeing as I’ve irreparably broken them already,” he said without a hint of remorse, steadily holding your gaze.

“Can I ask you something else?”

“Anything.”

“You said a part of you wanted to hurt me…” You swallowed hard. “How would you do that?”

His cheeks visibly reddened as he averted his gaze momentarily. You even thought he looked ashamed, perhaps guilty, but you couldn’t be sure it was just that.

“Well, I, um,” he began, but you stopped him by placing a hand on his arm.

“I want you to demonstrate,” you said softly. “Gently, if you can.”

To his immense surprise, he noticed that trust hadn’t entirely left your eyes. You were a little more guarded, yes, but you were still clearly willing to render yourself vulnerable for him. Perhaps as a way to test him as well, he realized, immediately unwilling to let himself fail.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Then you might want to turn off the light for that,” he murmured.

“You don’t want me to look at you while you do it?”

“It’s not that.” He licked his lips, glancing down at your lips, and then lower. “I just want you to be able to feel things better, is all.”

You suppressed a shiver that threatened to violently jolt through you. Reaching for your bedside lamp once again, you looked at him one last time before the two of you were plunged in darkness once again. Your heartbeat kicked up again.

“Lie back,” he said, half request and half command.

You did as told, propping your head against your pillow as he stood up. The mattress shifted under his weight as he slowly crawled over you, his breath close to your face. With his nose, he nudged your chin upward, exposing more of your throat.

“I would start here, where I think you are most tender,” he whispered against your skin, his teeth just barely grazing the side of your neck, then kissing away the phantom of pain that you momentarily imagined. “Oh, I would make such a mess of you.”

He moved to the other side of your neck, his lips barely breaking contact. Then he moved down to your clavicles, making you arch your back again, eyes fluttering closed. He left some love bites in his wake, and you found yourself clutching his arms if only so you wouldn’t become unmoored.

“This just so happens to be in my way, so… Got to get rid of it,” he said, hooking his fingers over the top of your shirt and pulling it down hastily.

He made a desirous sound, cupping your breasts in his hands. Your heart seemed to leap against the palm of his hand, an incitation if there ever was one. The flames of his desire were stoked, exponentially growing.

“Hmmm, or maybe I would take my time ravaging these,” he husked, saliva pooling on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Your fingers squeezed his arms urgently, feeling on the edge of pure, exquisite agony. His tongue then circled around one of your nipples, the light pinch of his teeth sending electricity to your core. You exhaled sharply, knees drawing together in search of some friction. It made you hunger for more, but you knew he was being deliberate.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, and for a moment he thought you might pull his head back, but you did the exact opposite, holding him in place. There was a low, wanton groan in his throat.

His body slid downwards as he began to trail his lips lower. The way he was kissing your body felt like he was holding himself back from actually biting into you, but in that moment, you wouldn’t have minded being devoured. He hiked up your legs to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing the supple skin of your inner thigh.

“Ah, but here’s another tender spot that could become quite messy,” he rasped, warm breath fanning over your navel. “I have to admit, I’ve been tempted by this one the most. It’s really taking all of my self control, you know?”

“I w-wonder why,” you choked out, half attempting humor but failing with a squirm of your hips. “I think this is far more torturous than whatever you had been fantasizing about…”

“But it excites you, doesn’t it?” He said, a smug edge to his tone. “I can smell it.”

You were about to grumble a retort, but dexterous fingers glided over the soaked fabric of your pajama shorts, where you were aching most. He saw your head drop back against the pillow, biting into your first to keep from making a debauched noise.

“Oh, God….” you breathed out shakily.

“Not quite my name, but it’ll do for now,” he murmured, his tongue teasing the spot where the fabric clung to your inner thigh, mere inches away from fully revealing you.

Your knees drew close around his head. “I-I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“Oh, but we were just getting started… Can’t I enjoy my meal properly?”

You extended your arms to invite him back into your embrace, needing more of him melding against you. “Please.”

“Alright, alright, we’ll have time enough for that, then,” he said, but the slightest tremble in his voice told you he was just as eager. “Lift your hips.”

You complied as best as you could, and he slowly peeled your shorts off like he was unwrapping his favorite candy. His mouth watered once more, totally enraptured at the sight of you fully bared for him. You were the true angel in his eyes, soft gazed and supplicant. Did that make him the serpent that was meant to lure you away from Eden?

No, he told himself. He would give you nothing but paradise, whatever form it might take. Forever and ever, amen.

You heard the soft rasp of his zipper and one of his hands came to rest on your leg when you tried to lower them back onto the mattress.

“No, keep those up,” he instructed, voice thick with desire.

The rustle of fabric and the clink of a belt as he undid his pants, shoving them down his legs. Your body jerked at the contact of warm, velvety flesh against your slick folds. Your brows furrowed together and your mouth fell slack wantonly at the realization. A rough sound behind his teeth as he coated himself in your slick, the delicious friction an immediate addiction.

“Yes, just like that…” He notched himself against your entrance, slowly pushing in as he leaned more of his weight on you, practically folding you in half.

His mouth found yours again, a shuddery exhale against your lips as he made you feel every single inch that claimed you. You gripped his arms again, lifting your head if only to lean your forehead against his, wishing you could hold his gaze. Perhaps you already were, through the veil of darkness.

You were nearly shaking from all the stimulation, pleasure coursing through you like the most delectable warmth. His hips rolled against you like the cresting waves of the sea, an all consuming power within each movement. Nothing had ever felt more right, and you doubted anything ever would again, if it wasn’t with him.

“Don’t stop,” you begged him, ecstasy beginning to ascend in a spiral up from your navel.

“Never,” he vowed, panting.

His hips pressed against yours, pelvis grinding against your sensitive clit. Almost instinctively, you offered him the inside of your wrist, trying to bring it closer to his lips. You knew he was close, and you were more than willing to give him what he so wanted. He tried to protest, but you shook your head and quietly insisted.

He planted an apologetic kiss on your pulse and squeezed your hip before his teeth cleanly pierced through your flesh. The pain was sharp and white hot, but it only lasted for a moment before pleasure replaced it once more. The full, robust taste of your life’s essence filled his mouth like the finest ambrosia.

A few more thrusts and your muscles tensed, your belly flipping like you were in a free fall. Your soul felt as if it was flung out of your body as you came, clenching down on him. His moans were ragged and muffled as he followed after you, rocking into you through every aftershock.

Then, mercifully, he let you wrap your legs around his waist, not in a hurry to separate from you but making sure you were more comfortable. He sealed the wound with his tongue, cleaning the smears of crimson left behind. You pulled him in for another kiss, something slower and more reverent, like a pact being made. Your head swam as if you had drunk the sweetest of wines, and you slackened into the mattress.

“Well, I’ll be your every meal, if that’s what you want,” you said as you pulled away for air, making him laugh.

“You’ve ruined me. I cannot possibly taste anything else now,” he said, knuckles gently tracing your cheek in adoration. “It wasn’t too painful, was it?”

“No, I can endure it,” you said reassuringly, biting your lip as you gathered courage to speak up again. “So, does that mean… You’ll stay this time? Even when the darkness vanishes?”

He laced his fingers through yours, squeezing reassuringly and kissing the back of your hand. “As long as you’ll have me… Anything else is unthinkable.”

You reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling as he leaned into your touch like he couldn’t get enough of it – enough of you. The feeling was mutual, and it was a comforting thought that at least as shadows, you were indistinguishable from each other.

“Yeah, I think I’ll keep you around.” You smiled, luminous as all the stars in the sky, the culmination of everything he’d ever dreamed of. “After all, I need my guardian angel looking after me.”

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#monsignor pruitt x reader #father paul x reader #monsignor pruitt x you #father paul x you #midnight mass fanfiction #father paul smut #minors dni #father paul fanfiction #monsignor pruitt fanfiction #midnight mass #father paul #monsignor pruitt #john pruitt

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madangel19 · 9 months ago

Note

For the writing requests. Maybe ssoommeee SwissDew annoying each other bc they don’t wanna admit they’re attracted to each other

NSFW or not up to u whatever inspiration strikes

~ @atmosghoul

Oh boy this was a fun one to do >;3 I love me some SwissDew. It didn't quite turn out the way you asked for it, but it's still something @atmosghoul :D Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: Oral (Swiss licking a dirty Dewdrop clean), quintessence use, hypnosis kink

Word Count: 1383

It was a seemingly peaceful evening down in the ghoul den. Swiss was enjoying some sweet liquor while watching a movie with the ghoulettes. It was nice to relax after such a long day of band practice and chores.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Dewdrop walking into the room. The fire ghoul’s gaze first fell on him and there was a playful glint in his fiery eyes as he smirked.

“Hey there, Dewy! You wanna join us?” Sunshine asked, her smile beaming.

“Sure,” the fire ghoul replied, still keeping his focus on Swiss.

The fire ghoul had been acting off around Swiss recently. He was always a bit standoffish whenever he encountered him in the halls and Swiss always caught him staring during some rehearsals. The multi ghoul tried his best to charm him in his usual ways, but Dewdrop always ignored him despite the noticeable glow to his cheeks. It was only a manner of time before he made the fire ghoul crack. He would just have to try harder.

Swiss looked down at his half empty cup and got an idea as Dewdrop walked over to sit on the couch. The fire ghoul spread his legs out, taking up as much space as possible with a loud sigh.

“You wanna drink?” Cumulus chimed, offering an open beer can to Dewdrop.

“You don’t want that,” Swiss said, slapping the can out of Dewdrop’s hand and spilling it on his pants. The fire ghoul let out a surprised yelp and was on his feet in an instant. The ghoulettes chittered worriedly amongst themselves

“What the fuck, Swiss?! Those were my favorite pants!” Dewdrop hissed.

“Aw, it’s okay, hon. I’ll get a towel,” Cumulus said.

“I can help him. Just come with me, Spitfire,” Swiss crowed, getting up and taking Dewdrop by the hand. Dewdrop grumbled something under his breath, but he didn’t resist as Swiss guided him to a bathroom. Swiss gave a thumbs up to Cirrus who nodded at him before turning her attention back to the movie.

“I liked these pants. You better do a good job cleaning me up,” Dewdrop growled once they were in the bathroom.

Swiss looked around the bathroom and noticed that there were no towels to be used. It was cleaning day. They would be returned later.

“Well, it looks like we don’t have any towels in here, but I’ll still clean you up, Spitfire. Sit,” Swiss ordered.

“Why? How are you gonna clean me with no towels?” Dewdrop questioned, crossing his arms, his tail lashing around angrily. Despite him being pissed off, the fire ghoul looked absolutely adorable.

“I’m gonna lick you clean. Now sit or else you’ll be all sticky and I’ll have to take longer,” Swiss said, looming over the smaller ghoul.

The blush had returned to his cheeks and there was a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked up at him. Swiss noticed a bulge forming in the fire ghoul’s pants and he chuckled as he placed both hands on his hips and pushed him onto the toilet seat with ease. Dewdrop didn’t resist. Swiss took a deep breath as he sniffed the air, catching the mixed smell of his arousal mixed with the sweet beer. It was a delicious scent.

“Make sure you do a good job of cleaning me. I don’t want to miss the movie,” Dewdrop said.

“We can always watch it later. We’re not leaving until you’re spotless,” Swiss purred, kneeling between Dewdrop’s legs.

“Aether will be looking for me,” Dewdrop murmured.

“Cirrus will tell him that you’re busy. Don’t you worry, Spitfire. I’ll take good care of you,” Swiss purred before slowly licking up the beer from Dewdrop’s pants.

The fire ghoul was tense at first, not daring to move his hands. Swiss noticed and smirked as he licked around his tight pants. He knew just the thing to relax the smaller ghoul.

“You okay there, Dew?”

“I…I’m fine.”

“You sure? I can help you out some.”

“How?”

Swiss’s smile grew as he pulled away from his pants. He wagged his tail excitedly as he thought of all the things he wanted to do with the smaller ghoul.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered.

Dewdrop cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms again.

“I know what you’re gonna do. Aether does the same thing with me. You’re not as strong as he is,” he said smugly.

“Is that so? Wanna bet on it?” Swiss suggested.

“Absolutely. If you can turn my whole brain off, then you can do whatever the fuck you want with me and if you can’t, then I’m leaving,” Dewdrop said.

“Deal. Open your mouth, Dewy,” Swiss purred.

Dewdrop rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Swiss placed both of his hands on either side of Dewdrop’s head as he pulled him into a deep kiss. Dewdrop’s mouth was hot as he kissed him hungrily, pushing his tongue against his. Swiss exhaled, filling Dewdrop’s lungs and his head with his magic. Dewdrop gasped softly and moaned into the kiss as he grabbed a hold of Swiss’s strong arms. They were trembling as if trying to fight his magic before becoming limp. It was working. All those evenings of practicing with Aether really did help him.

Swiss reached down with his right hand and palmed at Dewdrop’s tight sticky pants, getting another moan out from him as he thrusted desperately against his hand.

After a few seconds, Swiss pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips. Dewdrop looked completely different now. He swayed from side to side, eyes half-lidded as if high out of his mind. He hiccupped, breathing a small cloud of smoke with a giggle.

“Well, what do you think, Dewy?” Swiss asked, lightly patting the smaller ghoul’s cheek.

“I…I like that. Just…like…Aether…,” Dewdrop murmured.

“Mm, I like the sound of that. Looks like I won,” Swiss purred as he moved to unbutton Dewdrop’s pants. He was stopped when the fire ghoul grabbed his hand.

“I’m….still conscious, dickhead,” Dewdrop growled despite looking like he was about to fall over.

“You sure, Dew? Looks like you’re gonna fall over any moment now,” Swiss replied, curious to see what was going to happen next.

“I’m…one-hundred…percent….sure. You lose…and now…I’m going to…bed,” Dewdrop slurred as he pushed Swiss to the side and got up in slow motion. He immediately fell forward and Swiss stopped his fall, wrapping his arms and his tail around him.

“Aw shit. Looks like I gave you too much, little guy. Let’s get you to bed,” Swiss said, picking him up and tossing him over his shoulder with ease.

“I…can walk. Let…me…go…,” Dewdrop grumbled while weakly pounding his fists against his back. Swiss chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom and made his way to his room.

This wasn’t exactly how Swiss had imagined his evening to go, but it was an amusing end to a long day. Hopefully the effects of his quintessence would ease off of Dew and he could give him a proper apology and make things up to him.

“Why are you…taking me to…your room? I wanna go to…my room,” Dewdrop complained.

“Relax, Dew. I’m not gonna do anything funny unless you want me to. You can have one of my pajama pants,” Swiss said once he was in his room.

“You got…a fat ass…They’ll be…too big,” Dewdrop said.

“It’s either that or your sticky pants or nothing at all. You pick,” Swiss said while putting Dewdrop on his nest of a bed. The fire ghoul was silent before unbuttoning his pants and tossing them to the side.

“You…did a shit job of…cleaning them,” he grumbled while curling up amongst the blankets and pillows.

“I tried my best. How you feeling?” Swiss asked, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Like I….ate an edible and…smoked a whole bong…,” Dewdrop replied.

“You still hard?”

“...Yeah…”

Swiss was silent as he thought of what to say next. He scooched closer to the smaller ghoul and hummed when the familiar smell came to him.

“You want me to help you out?”

More silence. Dewdrop grunted as he turned to face him with a pleading look in his eyes. Swiss already knew the answer that he was going to get.

“Yes…please.”

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss x dewdrop #fanfiction #ghost fanfiction

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