#is Enormous restraint for me

[sky-scribbles]

Playlist for my Aeor longfic

I failed to figure out how to do a fancy spotify embed like the kids do but uh. Here's the playlist for Gravity!

I listened to this while planning and writing, and there are even a few shout-outs to the songs in the fic... Songs are arranged chronologically, so you should be able to hear the story happening, hopefully :'D

Further yelling about song choices under the cut!

A Matter of Time - This one is... sort of the fic's opening titles in my head? I wanted to start out with an instrumental, to capture the vibes of the months before the fic opens - Essek and Caleb apart, thinking about the T-Dock, and each other. Wondering. Waiting.

Horse to Water - Essek in Chapter 1, knowing his life as the Shadowhand is ending, waiting for Caleb to come and take him away to whatever comes next. (I'm normally very picky about not putting songs that reference modern day stuff on fantasy playlists but this one's vibes were too perfect)

Dear Fellow Traveller - Two wizards heading into Aeor together.

Conquest of Spaces - A song for Aeor. A dark, beautiful city, the remains of a people who lived by greed and power. (And two wizards in the ruins, trying to draw closer to each other.)

Neptune - This is mostly for Essek's breakdown in chapter 5, as he worries he'll never break out of his Shadowhand manipulation, wanting to be closer to Caleb and not knowing what that would even look like. And it's a little for Caleb in chapter 6, too, grappling with his feelings for Essek and his fears that they'll ultimately be bad for each other.

Please Don't Say You Love Me - ... and as they move past those fears, this song is for them tentatively acknowledging what they might be to each other. Not yet. But maybe soon.

Woodwork - This is for the chapters 6-9 span, as they learn more about Brashaar's plan. The pressure of a crisis has an odd way of making them realise just how deep their trust and care for each other runs.

Two Evils - Since we're at the point where Brashaar shows up, she gets a song now! This is pretty much her internal monologue during her confrontation with the wizards (though she really should have paid attention to 'if you're not careful, you will lose her' in reference to Quaera...)

Winter - Travelling northward, and yearning. Wishing they had more time.

Mind - A song for a young Quaera, slowly forming a personality, wondering about who she is and how her identity forms...

The Tower - ... and having their own breakdown.

What Could Have Been - I love me a good villainous breakdown, and this is a song for Brashaar's. This is how I imagine she feels during the final confrontation, raging against the gods, against Caleb and Essek, against Quaera after they turn from her. Not quite able to let go of what she thinks Aeor could have been. What, in her eyes, the world is meant to be. (As a bonus, I think the second verse sounds a bit like a retort to her from Quaera...)

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - This is such a fun cinematic cover, and I can't tell you how many times I've imagined a mental AMV of the final battle with Brashaar set to it :'D

Ori, Embracing the Light - I wanted an instrumental here too, because... Essek is dead, Caleb is in shutdown, and Essek and Quaera are communing with the Luxon, a being that doesn't really speak with words. Also, 'embracing the light' is exactly what Quaera does at this point.

Would That I - I know we all use this as Caleb's 'learning to live and love again' song... and I am no exception. This is for him after the T-Dock, finally fully acknowledging his grief, and his love for Essek.

First Day of my Life - Just two wizards realising that they have a future, and agreeing to slowly work at what's between them.

Ready to Call This Love - This one speaks for itself, honestly.

Five - Both of the wizards in the final chapter, but especially Essek realising how isolated he's been from the world, and letting it all in so he can feel it. (Also, studying the universe is a love language - )

Gravity - Gravity is a metaphor for love!!!!

[justablah56]

oOooo mutuals you wanna get into rwd sooooo bad ,,..,..,.

[thelvadams]

spending the weekend in that place from professor layton (london)

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Miguel O'Hara having you bent over the kitchen counter, legs spread wide and back arched. His enormous hands on your hips, holding onto you with bruising strength while he pounds you.

You're a sobbing, moaning mess, your every sound a pathetic whine that begs for more. And he gives it to you.

He fucks you almost too hard, his thick cock pushing your velvet walls to their limits, the bulbous head bruising your cervix.

“You're so pretty when I'm inside of you, princesa,” he grunts, an enormous hand spanking your ass. “Makes me want to take a picture of you, all full of my cock.”

You reply with more mewls and whimpers, nails digging into the counter top, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Miguel!” you cry out, cunt clenching as your orgasm grows nearer and nearer.

“Already?” he taunts, laughing almost maliciously. “I've just started with you.”

You whimper, an embarrassed blush spreading over your face.

Miguel tangles his fingers in your hair, tugs on it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. “If you come before I let you, I'm going to punish you. And it won't be pretty, princesa.”

You try to hold yourself back, but every ounce of self-restraint vanishes when his rough, calloused hand slides under you to play with your swollen, throbbing clit.

You come hard, body shaking, mouth falling open as moan after moan of ecstasy leave you.

Miguel smirks. “Oh, princesa.” He clicks his tongue. “You owe me now. You're gonna be my pretty little toy for the rest of the night,” he says, his mouth moving to your ear. “I'm going to use you over and over again until you're broken, see if you learn your lesson then, hm?”

You shudder, knowing there's no escaping this, knowing you'd never want to escape.

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Just a little thought that popped into my head while I was trying to fall asleep :)

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@yagirlheree @sukioyakio

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Blog masterlist

[lizardkingeliot]

He had taken what he called un petit coup. The little drink. Not enough to kill me, but just enough to keep him fit. It takes an enormous amount of restraint for us, the little drink. For a human, experiencing it for the first time, it was... unsettling. And not for the physical toll on my body, which was significant, but for the feelings of intimacy it awoke within me.

[katszumi]

every room stood still. your kitten, katsuki insisted on naming 'skullcrusher', also didn't dare to move.

your head hung low, feeling the stuffy air sneak into your lungs. you glanced at the clock on your watch. 7:19. the usual time katsuki arrived at the doorstep.

normally, you'd rush to the door, showering your boyfriend with short pepper kisses on his face. but you remained on the velvet couch, the same couch you picked out when house shopping with katsuki.

a click sounded, indicating the door was recently unlocked. you harshly breathed in the same stuffy air, forcing yourself to swallow the panic that resided inside of you.

katsuki slugged through the door, immediately dropping his bag at the front door. his eyes met yours then to the kitchen, his face contorting slightly at the sight. it was empty?

"no food. what's up with you?" his words came off more formidable than he liked, especially when he knew something wasn’t right.

katsuki inched towards you, his eyebrows wearing an expression of its own. they were furrowed, his right eyebrow a little deeper than the other.

"katsuki," you started, breaking your words off.

he slightly cocked his head in confusion and worry. as he came closer, not only did he see your presence shaking alongside the couch, but he also saw two suitcases behind you that were clearly filled to the brim.

you watched how his eyes widened, how his teeth unclenched leaving his jaw to drop. his ruby irises instantly shot back towards you, scanning your face for any signs that you were playing a joke on him.

"what the fuck." the words leave his mouth too quick for him to register.

you swallowed nothing. "katsuki, we need to talk."

"talk?!" his mouth opened to continue yet no words seemed to come. oddly enough, for the first time, he was speechless.

"i-i need you to listen to me." you hated the fact that you stammered on your words.

"and then what?!" he paused, "you leave me?" katsuki's voice lowered in volume, a tone of angst leaked within his words.

you attempt to stand strong. you weren't even sure if this was the right choice now by looking at his wounded face.

slowly, you nodded.

"yes."

katsuki was expecting that. hell. who wouldn't when their girlfriend has two suitcases behind her? but hearing the words leave her mouth was entirely different. it was like a shot through his heart, the bullet penetrating every piece of restraint he had.

his head turned to the side. he was battling his thoughts; every fucked up thing he did occuring to his mind.

"is it because i left my bloody rag on the counter the night before? because if so, i promise to god, i will never do it again. i know how much you despise it." he went on his own plethora, his words and body language holding enormous amounts of panic.

"katsuki." you reinstated again. if he went on like this much longer, you were afraid you'd never have the strength again to walk out of the door.

"or because i yell too loudly at ungodly hours?" he ignored your words.

"katsuki." you repeated.

"i understand i'm not the easiest person. fuck. i'm even shocked i've gotten this far." he rambled, not caring about a word you have to say. he had to say something, do something, in order to convince you. bargaining with all of his strength. "what have i done? what do i need to fix?"

you reach for his hand, molding your hand to fit in his. you placed your open hand on top, soothing small circles into his skin.

"it's not you, katsuki."

katsuki's face fell. "then, why are you leaving me?"

"i can't live like this. i was not taught to be a housewife. to clean, cook, wait for your arrival every night at seven o'clock just to eat dinner with you." you shook your head. "i don't have a job or even a hobby! i am stuck within these walls everyday, the paparazzi at damn near every corner doesn't help either. i am exhausted being alone all day."

you could feel the sweat accumulate on katsuki's palms.

"i'll tell the media to back off. i swear to it. a-and, i know somebody who's looking for help with their business, i can set it u—"

"katsuki, i am miserable here!" you interrupted his words, slightly raising your voice. "i can't do it anymore! you are a pro-hero, dedicating your life to these people everyday. and what am i doing? making sure that your stomach is filled and that there's no stains on a countertop!"

katsuki was quiet, allowing the words to settle in. taking the moment of silence of advantage, you slipped your hands from his.

"you're a pro hero. you've made the ranks. you've accomplished everything you've hoped for." you sighed. "i just don't fit within your schedule."

katsuki remained silent, reality now kicking in for him. he bit the inside of his cheek to restrain the tears that were welling in his eyes.

"i'm sorry. i truly, really am. i just need to accomplish my own goals before it's too late."

katsuki's eyes fell to the ground, a very slow nod coming from him. he cleared his throat, also sniffling to remove the snot that was aching to run down his nose.

"where will you be staying?"

you echoed his action from earlier, turning your head sideways. you couldn't face him anymore after utterly destroying his heart.

"it's best if you don't know."

he paused. "right."

you spun on your heel to bend down behind you, grabbing your overly stuffed suitcases. you increased the height on the handles, slowly trudging them towards the door.

you couldn't believe that this was happening. it was a last minute decision. lying down in bed, realizing that if this continued, you'd be nothing more but a trophy wife that's made no true accomplishments on her own.

you were more than that. more than a cleaner and cook.

"i didn't accomplish everything." katsuki broke the silence.

you halted your steps, peering at him over your shoulder. you hoped he took the silence as permission to continue.

"i wanted to marry you. have a big ass wedding reception and drink until we could barely see anymore." he dryly chuckled. "maybe even have a few flowergirls of our own. that goal mattered more to me than any accomplishments i've made before in this life." your heart clenched at the fact.

tears covered your vision, your breathing starting to become sporadic.

"you can keep skullcrusher." you faced forward, grabbing the door handle. "i love you, kats. thank you for everything." your words trembled, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face.

as the door shut behind you, katsuki buried his face into his hands, and cried like a little boy in his now empty, silent home.

[moonlightndaydreams]

Little Deaths | a ghostly ot8 story

MDNI 🔞 this is an adult story!!!

La petite mort. ‘the little death' is an expression that refers to a brief loss or weakening of consciousness, and in modern usage refers specifically to a post-orgasm sensation as likened to death.

fem!reader x ghost!Skz

Your driver abandons you at a creepy mansion that turns out to be haunted by 8 cursed, horny ghosts. Their mission is your pleasure.

Word count: 6.8k

Content Warning below

CW: ot8 are ghosts, drugging/intoxication of reader, seduction?coercion?, sexual acts with ghosts, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m & f), vaginal and anal penetration, blow jobs, double pen in 2 holes, double pen one hole, restraints, rough sex, spitting, it's basically a gangbang, sub reader, there is a part where a cock alternates between readers vagina and anus - this is not recommended irl, choking, name calling, pet names. The sexual acts in this story are not meant to reflect how things work irl.

a/n: this story isn't a love story, like I often write here on this blog. It's basically self indulgent ot8 porn. It's my first oneshot that features all 8 members fully, and it was actually so hard to write. I considered posting this story on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark where I write my unhinged shit, but it took so much energy and thought, that I wanted to keep it over here with my other oneshots of similar length.

I hope you enjoy this oneshot. If you do, please let me know your favourite part, and consider a reblog. x. Sorsha.

“Ma’m, I think we need to stop the car, this weather is just making it too hard to see.” your driver called over his shoulder. The rain outside was falling harder than ever, and with it being the dead of night, and on a windy deserted road, you knew he was right. It wasn’t safe.

“But where on earth do we stop?” You replied, trying to see out of the window.

“I think I’ve taken a wrong turn.” He said in a shaky voice. “But… I think I’ve found somewhere we can pull over.”

You leaned around to look between the two front seats of the car, and could just make out the shape of a mansion ahead of you. Your driver pulled the car to a stop in front of the dwelling. “Should we go knock on the door?” You wondered, but your driver was getting out of the car and pulled out your suitcase.

“I think so. I could barely see the road.” He insisted.

You let out a big sigh and climbed out of the car. From what you could tell, the mansion was enormous, and very old. 

Stepping up to the front door you saw there was no doorbell. Just a big brass knocker. “You know,” you turn to your driver who plonked down your suitcase beside your feet. “This feels a lot like that Backstreet Boys music video. The one with a haunted mansion.” You gripped the knocker in your hand and knocked three times and waited. “You know, Backstreets Bac-“ You turned to your driver but he was running back to the car, jumping back in and driving away. The fucker! 

“Hey!” You yelled after him, but he was gone.

The big front door creaked open, capturing your attention. A young man with fluffy long blonde hair peeked his head around the door.

“Oh my goodness!” You wailed. “I…it was raining…and…well…my driver…he’s just left me here.”

The young man looked at you curiously. “Come in out of the cold.” He smiled warmly. He immediately put you at ease.

“My name’s Felix.” He said picking up your suitcase.

“Y/n.” You replied following him into the mansion. It was quite dark, but you could make out that you were in a large entry hall, with a grand staircase in the centre.

“You will need to stay the night.” he stated. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“Stay the night?” You turned to him. “But I just need to make a phone call, have someone come collect me.”

Felix shook his head. We haven’t any mobile reception, and the landline is down. Due to the storm.”

You frowned.

“Plus,” he began as he started up the stairs. “No one should be driving in this weather.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. He was right. You followed Felix up the winding staircase and along a dimly lit hall. The place was creepy. It felt deserted and cold. Such a contrast from the man leading you to your room. Felix seemed so warm, like sunshine. Why would someone like him live here?

“Here we are.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “You will be staying here. I’ll bring you up some supper and a cup of hot…chocolate. Yes, hot chocolate.” he rambled. “Please-” he gestured for you to enter the room and placed your suitcase on the floor beside you.

“Feli-?” you turned to the blond man, but he was gone. Weird. “Felix?” you called and popped your head back out into the hallway. But he had completely disappeared. Vanished into thin air.

Despite the cold emptiness of the mansion, your room was stunning. Even if it did look like it came out of a haunted house movie. It had Victorian gothic themed decor, with a huge bed that had four thick posts, and the bedhead itself was a feature piece. It came almost up to the high ceiling. Dim lamps around the walls illuminated the room. The entire space was grand and of another time.

“I suppose I could spend the night here.” you patted the bed. The bedding seemed freshly cleaned, and you noticed there was no dust on anything. It was like whoever lived here was expecting a guest. Was Felix the only one here? You wondered as you opened your suitcase and pulled out your silk nightie. 

Your sleepwear seemed far too vulnerable and sexy for such a room and as you climbed into the giant bed, you had thoughts of some beast coming and ruining you in your sleep. Maybe you’d need to stay awake just to be safe?

Knock knock. 

You pulled your knees to your chest, and your heart began to pound. Someone’s come to rape you and murder you. Your mind had really spiraled over the past ten minutes.

“Y/n? It’s Felix. I’ve brought you some food and a a-drink.”

You scampered over to the door. “Fel-” you started. But again no one was there. How was he so quick?

On the floor at your feet was a tray with a slice of cake and a big mug of hot chocolate. You took the tray back to your bed. You were hungrier than you thought, practically inhaling the cake within a minute.

You turned your attention to the hot drink, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. It was delicious. Rich, creamy, with a hint of something you couldn’t put your finger on. You took another sip, allowing the warmth to wash over you. By the time you had drunk the last of it, you were feeling floaty and fuzzy, almost like you were drunk. 

All thoughts about your safety left you as you snuggled down and fell asleep.

Your core ached as you felt your body buzz and swirl. Sensations of cool hands all over your body, caressing your legs, and your breasts, making you moan. More. You needed more. Whatever this was, you had to have more or you’d die. Your body felt hot, like it was on fire, and you needed the relief of the coolness that was caressing you. 

The sensation moved up your inner thigh, while elsewhere on your body it wrapped around your neck. More across your stomach and breasts. It reached the top of your inner thigh and, ‘oh god yes, touch me there’, slipped inside of you. You felt like you were writhing on the bed, back arching off the mattress. But then it seemed you couldn’t move at all. It was like you were being held down. You tried to cry out, the pleasure becoming unbearable, but your mouth was filled with the same coldness that was inside your pussy. Again, your body cried ‘More’. You needed more. The cool sensation then filled you deeper and deeper and stretched you open, fuller, wider than ever before. Your throat felt full too, and you were certain you were going to choke. Your dreamy vision blurred further until you were seeing white, and the tension in your body reached breaking point. A surge of cold energy filled you and your core burst with a relief like you’d never experienced in your entire life. Your walls squeezed and pulsed around the coldness inside of you.

Your eyes flung open. Your chest was heaving. Your body was hot. Your cunt still fluttering. Fuck. That was some dream. You ran your hands over your body, down between your legs. Your panties! They were gone. You sat up abruptly, your eyes darting around to locate your missing underwear. There they were, at the far corner of the bed. Torn. What the actual fuck?

“You did that to yourself, you know.” a voice said from the corner of the room.

“Huh?” your eyes shot to a man sitting in the shadows in the corner. 

“We didn’t touch you.” he added.

You were confused. “We?” you arched an eyebrow, trying to calm your racing heart.

The man disappeared, startling you, then reappeared sitting on the edge of the mattress.

You pulled your knees into your chest. “How the fuck did you do that? Who are you? What are you? How’d you just do that?” you cried shrilly.

The man smiled, his dimpled cheeks and kind eyes making him appear non-threatening. But that didn’t mean he wasn't a psycho killer. A magic psycho killer.

“Here, have another hot chocolate.” he passed you a mug.

The hot chocolate. You scowled at the man. “You drugged me!” you hissed.

The man shrugged. “It’s an ancient remedy. We needed to know if you were compatible with us.”

“Compatible? Compatible for what? What do you mean, ‘us’? You and Felix? What does this drink do?”

“Shh..babygirl. It’s okay.” he hushed you. “The drink merely relaxes you and unlocks what you crave most. I promise it wears off within twelve hours. The drink you had earlier was only one eighth the strength of this one here.” he pointed to the drink in your hands.

You brought the drink to your nose and inhaled. It smelled irresistible, and you resisted the strong compulsion to drink it down. “But why do you want me to drink more? Couldn’t you tell if I was compatible or not from…” 

“You are compatible. It was clear the moment you called for us.” He said simply.

Your eyes widened. “Called for you? But I don’t even know you.” you whispered.

“The coldness you felt.” he leaned closer. “On your body. Inside your body. That was us. You could feel us even though we hadn’t touched you.”

You held your breath.

“We could feel you too. We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness. It wrapped around us.”  he whispered.

You whimpered. He, they, could feel you? You bit your lip. “So why drink more?” you arched an eyebrow. “If you know I’m compatible with…whatever this is.”

“Because what I’m about to tell you might be,” he sucked in a breath. “Overwhelming.”

You locked eyes with this stranger and carefully took a big gulp of the hot chocolate. You immediately felt a sense of warmth flow through your body and pooling in your core.

“You see, y/n, we’re ghosts.”

You just stared at him. “What?” you laughed. “Just ‘cos you did some magic disappear-reappear thing before, I don’t believe in-” 

The man in front of you turned translucent. Fuck. Your mouth fell open. You could still see him, but his colours were muted, and he wasn’t….solid.

“You’re a fucking ghost?” you choked. This wasn’t happening. Surely the drink has some kind of hallucinogen?

“Y/n, allow me to introduce you to my brothers.” he gestured for you to look around the room. Gradually, seven young, translucent, men emerged from the shadows. 

“Holy shit!” you whispered and swallowed hard.

“My name is Chan.” the dimpled mad said. “And here we have Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung.” he pointed to three of the men who waved at you. ‘And over there we have Suengmin, Jeongin, Minho, and you’ve already met Felix.”

“Sorry I drugged you.” Felix blushed and lowered his gaze.

“May we come sit on the bed?” the one named Hyunjin asked. “We won’t touch you unless you ask.” he added.

Why did that something to your insides?

You nodded and the ghost men gathered around and hopped on the bed. That’s when you noticed they were all quite young and very handsome. And they were all wearing the same thing. A gold and black silk bathrobe.

The words of Chan resounded in your head. “You called to us”,  “We could feel your desire. Your warmth. You aliveness. Your tightness.” 

You pulled the blanket up higher and stared at your drink, considering whether or not to drink more if it was going to help you relax.

“W-what did you do when I called to you?” you asked in a small voice.

“We came straight away.” Another man said. Seungmin, you think.

“We watched you, kitten.” Minho smirked.

“You were so receptive.” Changbin added.

“Your body begged us to fill you, squeeze you. Fuck you.” Hyunjin said silkily.

“But you didn’t… touch me, right?” 

“No, babygirl. Like I said, your body showed us what you craved most. We didn’t touch you. I promise. But we could feel you.”

“But why do I crave you?” you were confused as to how this could even be happening.

“We think it’s part of the curse.” The chubby cheeked boy, Jisung, said. “Every so often a woman will stumble upon our mansion. We give them a drink,” he nodded to the cup in your hand, “to see if they’re compatible. Sometimes they just sleep soundly.”

“Those ones aren’t compatible.” Seungmin chimes in.

“And some, like you, are receptive.” Jisung continued.

“Compatible.” Added Minho.

You looked around the room. So you craved these… ghosts? Sexually? Was this a trick? You thought about your dream and how incredible it felt to be consumed by whatever it was that was touching you. Would it feel like that?

“What happens when you find a compatible woman?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“We have to pleasure her.” Chan said flatly.

Your eyes flicked to his.

“And what happens if you don’t?”

“We get tortured.”

Your eyes widen. “Tortured? Why? By who?”

“I think we need to tell her the whole story.” Said Jeongin.

Chan rubbed his chin. “Hmm, you’re right.” He took a moment before he spoke.

“Y/n. When we were alive we were… a harem. Or reverse harem, I suppose. We had our Mistress whom we served… sexually. She wasn’t right, in the head. She went mad. She didn’t want us to age, to get older. So she hired a witch who was meant to concoct a spell that would keep us young for eternity. The spell was not only to keep us youthful either, but also bind us,” he looked around at the other men. “To be sex slaves forever.” 

“But it went wrong.” Exclaimed Jisung. “It killed us. Now we’re young, dead, sex slaves forever.” He looked down at the bedspread.

The mood in the room suddenly dropped and you could tell all the men were in a moment of reflection.

“So,” you started slowly. “When a woman comes along who subconsciously requires your… services… then you are bound to fulfill her needs?”

They all nodded.

“Our bodies naturally respond. It’s intoxicating.” Hyunjin said softly. “All of us are aching for you.” His hand reached out and touched your arm. Cold. Cold just like the sensation in your dream.

“What if I say no? What happens?”

“We won’t touch you.” Chan states. 

“But we’d be in pain until the next compatible woman comes along.” Said Felix.

“The urge and desire won’t dissipate until we have found another compatible woman.” added Seungmin.

You considered everything they just told you. It was wild. It was far-fetched, and absolutely unbelievable. But here you were. On a bed with a room full of ghosts. Ghosts that were horny for you. You should say no. But you couldn’t. It seemed you were horny for them too.

They were alluring. Tempting. Could they make you feel the way you did in your dream? They weren’t even touching you then, supposedly, and you wondered what it’d feel like to have them really do those things to you, and more.

You took the cup to your mouth. “What happens if I drink this stronger version?” You looked at Felix.

“It will relax you. But more importantly it shows us what your body truly needs to be sated, and who want to do it to you.” Said Changbin.

“There’s no hiding if you drink that. You won’t be able to hold back.” Minho smirked.

“And everything will feel more intense.” Added Jeongin. 

“Babygirl.” Chan gripped your arm. “You need to give us your permission. Will you let us pleasure you… fuck you until you can’t take any more?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.” you whispered, and gulped the entire drink down. 

“That’s it, baby.”  Clapped Jisung.

“I knew from how hard she came earlier that she’d be up for this.” Seungmin added.

“She’s just drank the whole thing. Chan, that was full strength.” Felix was horrified.

“Means she’ll be pliable, we can do anything.” Seungmin said slyly.

“Well, anything she wants.” Corrected Changbin..

“She’ll want us to do absolutely everything. I can tell. This one’s a fucking freak.” Said Minho.

You immediately became lightheaded. And hot. So fucking hot. You threw the blanket off and started clawing at your skimpy nightie. “Hot!” you cried. “So hot.”

Ice cold hands came to your body, ripping the garment from you, leaving you naked, on fire, your skin burning. “Please!” you cried, searching for the cool relief of those hands.

A hand wrapped around your leg, dragging you into the middle of the mattress. More hands started to explore your body. Firm, freezing, so relieving against your scorching skin. 

You opened your eyes to find that all eight ghosts were surrounding you on the bed. But they weren’t translucent anymore. They appeared as real as living men. “Touch me.” you sobbed as your eyes darted around to each of them.

“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Whispered Jisung.

You didn’t know whose hands were who’s, but there were so many on your body. So cooling to the skin. A hand cupped a breast, while another pinched your other nipple. Your legs were spread wide and a frozen cold tongue pressed against your pussy. 

“Fuck!” you cried out and looked down to find Jisung sucking on your clit. “Fuck! Feels so good.” you panted.

“How does she taste, brother?” someone asked. 

“Like pussy.” he groaned. “I fucking missed this taste.”

While your eyes had rolled back into your head from the intensity of what was happening, you felt your arms being pulled above your head, and soft velvet ropes were tied around your wrists. You looked up behind you to see Minho tying the other ends of the ropes to the headposts. “Kitten likes to be tied up.” he winked at you.

Meanwhile, Jisung had peeled himself away from between your legs and Hyunjin was kneeling between them, gazing at your pussy. Just the way he was looking at you and licking his lips made your cunt gush. He noticed and swiped his finger over your dripping arousal, then took his finger to his lips. He proceeded to wink at you, slip off his robe. With the most deranged look you’d ever seen on a man, he lifted your hips to line your entrance up with his cock, and slammed you onto him. His cock felt like a hard block of ice. Thick, hard, rigid. But so relieving inside your searing heat.

He was so strong, he wasn’t even thrusting. He was simply making you fuck him. The binds on your arms were pulled taut every time you were fully impaled on him.

“So pliable.” Jeongin said as he leaned down to suck one of your nipples. 

“Like a fucking ragdoll.’ Seungmin mused. “Look how her eyes roll back every time he fucks into her.”

It was so hard to focus on where everyone was and what they were doing. All you knew is that you needed them to touch you. You needed Hyunjin to keep doing whatever he was doing. He felt so long, so deep, and after a while the sharp coldness eased off and his cock started to feel more warm. More alive. You weren’t sure whether your body was warming him up, or if he was cooling you down.

Your core tightened, your orgasm was approaching fast. As if on cue, a finger landed on your clit, and rubbed hard, rough circles on it.

“Please…please…I’m gonna…I…I…so close..” you cried and babbled. 

Hyunjin thrust you onto you harder, digging his fingers into your flesh, and the fingers on your clit became more forceful.

“It’s okay, Hyunin’s gonna make you cum.” Chan cooed.

A sudden powerful surge of cold energy exploded inside your cunt, causing your walls to automatically contract around it. “Holy fucking shit!” you panted. “I’m…fuck!!!” your walls clenched tighter than they ever had before, and you were coming so hard you thought your body had split apart. It felt as though your entire pelvic region was pulsing around Hyunjin’s cock. It lasted so long, maybe an entire minute, and by the time you came down, you were sobbing. Hyunjin leaned over and took you in a deep kiss before slipping out.

“No! No!” you cried out. You were too empty now. Your body relaxed into the bed when a few sets of lips soothed you through kisses to your body. “More.” you whispered softly.

“Shh. You’re gonna be plenty filled tonight, baby.” Jisung whispered in your ear, before he hooked his hands under your arms and dragged you so your head hung off the edge of the mattress. He opened his robe to reveal his delicious cock, and you immediately opened your mouth for him. He smirked as he pushed his cock into your warm, wet mouth. He too was was ice cold, but you noticed he began to warm up quickly. 

“Baby likes to choke on big cocks, huh?” he snarled. “I never expected such a perfect little lady to turn up on our doorstep tonight.” he pushed himself all the way into the back of your throat. You couldn’t breathe. But you didn’t care. Right now being filled with cock was more important to your survival than air. 

“Fuck. You can see it pressing into her throat.” Jeongin hissed. He was setting himself up to fuck you now. 

“If you put your hand on her neck, you can feel it.” Jisung said excitedly.

Jeongin reached up and pressed his hand to your neck, squeezing your throat and making Jisung feel so much bigger. He pulled out to let you catch your breath, and then he was stretching your throat out again.

Jeongin twisted your lower half so you were on your side from your waist down. He straddled your bottom leg, pinning it into position, whilst lifting your upper leg to rest on his shoulder. He pressed his hips, pushing his cock into you, and immediately started fucking you fast. He was hitting you so deep that you were certain he was pushing your cervix deeper and deeper into your body, and the way Jisung seemed to be pushing deeper and deeper into your throat, you thought they would eventually meet up in the middle.

Your hands were guided to wrap around two rock hard, ice cold cocks. You had no clue who they belonged to. You didn’t care. All these ghost men were fuckable. You wanted to touch and feel every single one of them.

“Grrr…I’m fucking coming.” cried Jeongin. 

“Let’s cum in her at the same time.” Said Jisung.

Then you felt it. The same as with Hyunjin. The cold surge of energy, filling you up from both ends. Your back arched off the bed as you came again. Your hands squeezed around the cocks you were holding. Cries and hisses rang out around the room at the sight before them.

“Good girl. So fucking good.” Purred Jisung as he eased his cock from your mouth. 

“Noooo!” You cried. He leaned down and kissed you. Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good later. I already know what you’re gonna want me to do.” He winked.

Jeongin was gone too. The dicks in your hands also gone, and you whimpered at so much loss. You didn’t have time to cry for too long when you were suddenly dragged by your feet further onto the bed and flung into your stomach. “You’re such a filthy little slut, pup.” Seungmin laid against you, whispering nasty words in your ear. He’d grasped your arms, holding them both behind your back with one hand. Your hair was plastered on your cheek, and he spat on it before pushing your face against the mattress below.

“Please-” you choked. 

“Oh, my slutty little pup. I know exactly what you want. But I wanna hear you say it for the whole class to hear.”

How does he know? You wondered to yourself in your delirious state. Seungmin pressed the length of his hardness against your ass. 

“Please…fill my ass.” You sobbed. A collective hum spread around the room at your admission.

“That’s right.” Seungmin pressed his tip against your rim. You still weren’t used to how cold their cocks were to begin with. “Such a slut wanting me to put it in without loosening you up first.” He spat on the side of your face again, his saliva sticking in your hair. You needed him to hurry. You needed him to fill you. You were so fucking empty. 

Seungmin’s cock breached your rim as he pressed his body further on top of you. The stretch felt overwhelmingly satisfying, while the coolness of his cock soothed the sting. The feeling of being trapped beneath him, arms held tight behind you, the feeling of helplessness intensified your need for him to penetrate you.

Finally, his hips met the curve of your ass cheeks. “Such a tight little hole. He grunted as he started to grind against you. “Not sure how tight it’ll be by morning.” He whispered low in your ear. He started with a slow, steady pace, allowing your body to warm his cock. “Harder…harder.” You mumbled into the mattress. 

Seungmin growled and fucked into you, pressing your face further into the mattress. It felt like he was fucking you forever, yet not long enough. You were mumbling and dribbling all over the bed. Then, the familiar feeling of what seemed to be their orgasms, filled you once again, making you come hard. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you were already desperate to have someone fill it again. 

It was as though Minho read your mind, and as soon as Seungmin dislodged himself from your ass, he was dragging you to the otherside of the bed. He stood on the floor and pressed your legs up into a mating press position and drank you in with hungry eyes. “I love watching my cock sink into a pussy.” He said. “Watch with me.”

You looked down just in time to see his cock push inside of you. “Kittie’s hungry.” He smirked as you sucked in his entire cock, and glanced up at you. “Does it feel good?” He asked.

You nodded fervently. “Yes! So good.” You squeaked. He cocked an eyebrow. “What about your ass?” He pulled out of your cunt and pushed fully into into your ass.

“Fuck! So deep. So fucking deep.” You cried. This position allowed Minho to reach the deepest part of you. He fit your cunt so well, but, oh fuck, he felt incredible in your ass too. You wanted him to fuck both hol-

“You really are filthy.” Minho said disbelief. He pulled out of your ass and plunged back into your pussy.

You knew, you really knew, that this wasn’t a good idea, but you wanted him to do it so fucking bad. And he knew! He knew what you wanted. They all seemed to know. You didn’t have to say a word and they knew all the filthy things you craved.

You glanced around you to see some of the others had gathered around to watch Minho fuck your pussy, then your ass, then back to your pussy, while he held you still on the bed.

“Look how her holes stay open waiting for him to put it back in again.” Felix said mesmerised.

Despite your delirium, you had an idea. You wanted someone to finger fuck you when Minho was in your ass. He pulled out of your cunt once more and as he pushed back into your now gaping asshole, Changbin slipped two fingers into your pussy. 

“That’s it, Bunny. Binnie’s fingers stretch you good don’t they?” He purred.

Your hands flailed around looking for cocks to jerk off, relieved to find Felix and Jeongin in your hands. “My mouth! Need someone in my mouth.” You whimpered.

“Fuck, she’s perfect.” Cooed Jisung again. “Chan, you should fill her mouth. She’s begging you.”

“Yeah Channie, you haven’t felt her. She’s fucking incredible.” Seungmin encouraged. 

Yes. You wanted Chan in your mouth. “Please.” You were crying because you wanted it so bad. Chan straddled your chest and pressed the tip of his cock against your lip. “Open wide, babygirl. Daddy needs to make you choke.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as he pushed his cock into your mouth. “That’s it. Suck on it.” He pushed deeper.

Minho picked up his pace, slamming into your ass at an alarming pace, and Changbin was digging into your g-spot aggressively. You were feeling so used, but at the same time so special.

“Changbin’s got four fingers in you, baby. You should see your pretty little holes.” Jisung panted as he fucked into his own hand. 

Chan gripped your hair and started to fuck your throat at the same rhythm as Minho was fucking your ass. You didn’t know why taking their cocks down your throat was so incredibly arousing, but it was. You couldn’t get enough. It was almost like you didn’t need to breathe when they were in your mouth, and you wondered if it was some weird ghost magic.

You were pinned down and held still as they forced another orgasm out of you. How much more could your body take? You hadn’t even fucked all of them yet. You started to feel drowsy and your eyes fluttered closed. Chan withdrew his cock from your mouth, and some saliva dribbled down your chin. 

“Babygirl.” He stroked your cheek. “Are you okay? You need to wake up for us. You still need more to be sated.”

Minho and Changbin pulled out of you too and came up to check on you. 

“We can’t keep doing this if you’re asleep, pretty lady.” Felix stroked your hair and gazed down at you. 

You opened your eyes and grinned with a fucked out expression. “Why am I empty?” You whispered.

“Atta girl.” Chan slapped your face, pulling you out of your sleepy moment, and just like that you were ready for more.

“Come ride me, bunny.” Changbin coaxed you over by gripping his cock and pumping it a few times. You licked your lips and crawled towards him, and a few hard slaps landed on your ass as you did so.

Changbin had a thick cock. Maybe the thickest you’d ever seen. You threw a leg over him and reached down to line his cock up with your entrance. You both sighed in relief as you slid effortlessly onto his thickness and immediately began to roll your hips. “Fuck, yeah, bunny. Still so tight, even after we’ve fucked you open.”

You grinned down at him as you found a rhythm with him rolling his hips up into you in the most delicious way. “Kiss me.” he sighed, and pulled you down on top of him and captured you in a deep kiss. You melted against him, as he cupped your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. You panted into Chanbgin’s mouth. “You want Felix at the same time?” he whispered. You nodded.

Like clockwork, you felt the mattress dip behind you. “It’s okay, love. Lixi’s gonna help keep you feeling full.” he positioned himself behind you and lined himself up with your ass. 

Although your ass had been stretched by two cocks already, Felix was met with some resistance due to Changbin already filling you up so good. But Felix persevered, pressing and pushing until he was fully seated inside of you.

A few of the other men gasped at the sight of seeing you filled like this. 

“Felix,” said Changbin. “You know what she wants us to do. Are you ready to give it to her?” Felix grabbed hold of your hips, pressing his fingers into you hard, and began to fuck you with hard, sharp thrusts. He snapped his hips quickly, forcing you to cry out in choked sobs. At the same time, Changbin gently rolled his hips up into you. The difference in technique and pace was driving you insane. The feeling of both your holes stretched like this was overwhelming. They were going to break you into pieces. You were sure of it. You were crying and sobbing, eventually collapsing onto Changbin and letting them fuck you dumb. Drool was dribbling out of your mouth onto Changbin’s shoulder, and you felt like you were losing your sense of consciousness.

“P-please…please…ruin me…fuck me…feels s’good…so deep… full.” You babbled.

“She’s so dumb from cock. Look at her. Eyes unfocused. Drooling.” Minho observed. 

“Her cunt is gushing around Binnie too. You all know what she wants next, don’t you?” Jisung winked at Chan. 

“C’mon fellas. Fuck her harder. She’ll fall asleep if you’re too gentle.” Minho snickered.

Both Changbin and Felix doubled down, both finding a matching rhythm, and slamming into your holes. Even though you knew what to expect from theirs orgasms, it still hit you hard, taking you over the edge with them. The three of you were a trembling mess by the time they pulled out of you.

“Pup, show us your pretty used holes.” Seungmin requested. You happily obliged by leaning your head into the bed, ass in the air, and spreading your cheeks with your shaky hands. 

Whines, whimpers, sighs, and mumbled “fucks” filled the room as they all gazed hungrily at your sloppy, used holes. “Fuck, I wish I could ejaculate. I’d cum all over that ass.” sighed Hyunjin.

“I’d fucking cum in there and watch it ooze out.” added Minho.

“Babygirl.” Chan had laid himself on his back, leaning against the pillows. “My turn to feel your pussy. I’m out of patience.” 

You sauntered over to him, and kissed him. “Turn around, babygirl. Show ‘em how you ride reverse.” You straddled him, reverse cowgirl, and swallowed up his cock whole. Chan’s cock was ice cold like the rest of the men, but he was much, much bigger. He stretched you out like you were made for him. “That’s it. There you go. There you go.” he cooed once you planted your feet into the mattress and used your legs as leverage to bounce yourself up and down his length. 

All eyes were on your hole swallowing Chan’s cock, and then sliding up to reveal just how wet and slippery you were. Hyunjin was lying on his stomach watching everything curiously. A few of the others were pumping their still hard cocks. You even noticed a couple of the men were translucent again.

You eyes landed on the one man you hadn’t fucked yet. Jisung. He looked at your pussy desperately, like he was in pain. He needed you. He looked up, locking eyes with you, and in an instant, he crawled over to you. “Hey baby. You ready for me?” he grinned.

“I am.” you whimpered.

“Okay, lean back on me…that’s it.” instructed Chan. “Let’s push your legs up. Good girl. That’s it. Make room for Jisung.”

Jisung kneeled in front of you and rubbed his cock against your clit. “Please.” you plead. You watched as Jisung pushed against your entrance, beside Chan, and when the tip slipped in you cried out. “Fuck.” you squeaked. “It’s so…fuck…the stretch…it’s” your hands gripped onto Jisung’s arms to hold yourself in place as Jisung pushed further into your cunt. 

Jisung’s cock was cold, where Chan’s had warmed up and the difference in temperature allowed you to feel the two distinct penises that were inside you.

“I’m gonna push all the way in now, baby.” Jisung pushed his hips hard, and with your pussy so wet, it gave way just enough for the rest to slip in.

“Fuck, it’s so tight.” Jisung’s eyes squeezed closed. 

“Full…S’full.” You groaned.

“Stuffed full of cock.” Seungmin admired.

The other men had gathered around and watched in awe as they watched your pussy being fucked by two cocks at once. Chan continued to hold your legs up out of the way while he fucked you from below. Han leaned over you as he snapped his hips as vigorously as your cunt would allow.

‘’Open.” demanded jisung. You opened your mouth for him and he spat into it before crashing his mouth onto yours. Apparently ghosts don’t ejaculate, but oddly enough they have saliva. 

“This what you wanted, babygirl?” Chan nibbled your neck. You answered with a whimper. 

“You love being stretched like this. Filled so deep with cock?” Jisung said, panting. “You don’t have to say anything. We already know. We know how after this you want us to all take turns double penetrating you.”

You moaned in agreement.

“One in the pussy…one in the ass. Or two in your tight cunt like right now.” Jisung pressed his mouth against your ear. “Maybe even two in the ass?” he whispered. “Maybe we should get everyone to pair up ready?” 

You yelped, and clenched tighter around the two men.

“She likes that idea.” Chan chuckled.

“Well it’s her idea, remember? We’re the sex slaves.” Jisung grunted as he pushed in as deep as possible.

“Good thing our erections last so long. Our pretty Babygirl is so needy. Lucky we're here to take care of her.”

Your body felt floppy, like they could bend you and stretch you however they wanted, and your body would accommodate. All of your attention was focused on the sensation in your core. You felt so full. Their cocks reaching deep inside you. What state would it be in when they’re finished? You didn’t care because after this you wanted them to do it all again. 

Jisung changed his angle to concentrate on your g-spot, causing your body to start shaking. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. You were a helpless, sobbing mess, needing to come, but not wanting to yet.

Minho and Felix moved closer, one on either side of you, and took hold of your trembling legs, freeing up Chan’s hands.

Subconsciously, your hands found their cocks and you started to jerk them off.

“You gonna come with us, babygirl? I can feel you’re so close.” Chan encouraged as he wrapped a hand around your neck to choke you.

Jisung sat back on his knees and began to rub your clit as he and Chan continued to abuse your pussy with hard, relentless thrusts.

You threw your head back, wanting to cry out, but with Chan’s hand squeezing you, it turned into a gurgling sound. Hands groped at your tits, most likely Minho and Felix while they held your legs. You felt the tip of a cock on your cheek, and Chan turned your head so you could open up for Changbin.

You couldn’t hold on any longer. 

“That’s it, babygirl… let go.” Chan whispered.

“Come for us.” Hyunjin said. Words of encouragement resonated around the room.

The tension inside you snapped, setting off your orgasm. Your cunt clamped down, causing Chan and Jisung to come too, moaning and cursing under their breaths. The force of both of their cold energies extended your orgasm, thrusting you into a new realm of pleasure. It had you pulsing, squeezing, shaking, and then squirting all over their cocks.

“Fuck, she squirted so much! Like a fucking faucet.” Someone growled. 

Changbin came in your mouth, and with Chan still choking you, it heightened the feeling of your orgasm and you squirted a second time. 

“Good fucking girl.” Purred Chan as he continued to roll his hips into you.

“She’s the most compatible we’ve ever seen.” Noted Jeongin.

“We’re gonna pull out now, baby.” Jisung stroked your cheek. You grasped his arm and shook your head.

“No! Need more!” You sobbed.

“I thought she was meant to be satisfied by now.” Said Hyunjin, confused.

“It’s like the more we give her, the more she needs.” Observed Felix.

“We have to keep going until she’s satisfied.” Confirmed Minho.

“What a fucking shame.” Sneered Seungmin as he approached the bed and pulled Jisung out of your cunt and lined himself up.

A/n: I have similarly unhinged oneshots and drabbles that you may enjoy on my side blog @daydreams-after-dark .

General Taglist is open for both blogs.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @chansbabyg @kangnina @vanillacupcakefrosting @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @newhope8 @jehhskz @weareapackofstrays @bethanysnow @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows

Again, my tag links have been messing up. 😫😫

[ozzgin]

I really hope you continue the eldrich God story. I may or may not have become obsessed with the idea, and i think it's actually really funny and I also just love the idea of a God being in love with a human.

Also, I love your writing and art! I hope you're doing well!

Yandere! Eldritch God x Detective! Reader

Based on this prompt and this meme. You're sent to a remote island to investigate a string of murders, and end up with a horde of cultists and their Lovecraftian God who is very much obsessed with you. Don't worry, he just wants to help you with your case!

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, tentacle tomfoolery again

[More Monsters]

The island checks all the boxes for a stereotypical shady place: the grimy boat captain who talks in riddles and vague warnings, the constant fog, the tavern filled with rumors and fears, the bizarre statue of a creature with tentacles. You were expecting most of it, save for their patron God being a literal monster.

Soon after your arrival, you discover that you’re being followed by men in dark robes. Could it be related to your case? A little alcohol-aided interrogation, and the locals confess to you about the existence of a cult. The dots begin to connect.

Unfortunately for you, whatever theory is cooking up in your mind couldn’t be further from the truth. The patron Beast of the land has been watching you from the moment of your arrival. He’s rather intrigued by your nonchalant city attitude, your stubbornness, your lack of any sense of danger. Thus he demands that you’re brought to his lair.

A game of cat and mouse. You are now convinced this said cult is responsible for the murders, so you delve deeper into their secrets. At the same time, the men put all their efforts into chasing you down. The Lord's wishes are their command; for how long can you outsmart sheer numbers?

At last, they succeed. You’re dragged over, cocooned in thick rope. “My Lord, we’ve brought you the sacrifice”, one cultist proclaims victoriously. Sacrifice? The ancient creature gazes at the men with utmost confusion. He frees you from your restraints with a mere point of his tentacle appendage, and proceeds to lecture his devout following for treating his special guest with such shameful brutality. Everyone blinks in disbelief, you included.

What the hell is this, some beastly romcom? Once everything is cleared up, you dust your knees, stand up unceremoniously, and tell the cosmic deity you’ve no time for idle gossip. “There’s a criminal running free and it’s my task to stop it”, you bark. Aha, that’s the very same attitude that got his nebulous heart pumping with curious desire. He cannot explain the maddening interest he’s taken into you. The monster releases a monotonous hum, causing you to jolt in surprise. The cult leader gasps. “He…he wants to help you solve the case”, the man concludes, defeat in his voice.

“Does it have to be all of you?” You whine, clicking your tongue at the sight. It’s the morning after the godly encounter, and you’re greeted outside your room by the cult leaders and their monster. “I can’t be discreet with a dozen monks after me. Not to mention…” your eyebrows furrow. “What on Earth is he wearing? Is that a detective hat and a mustache? Are you mocking my job?” You demand, glaring at the eldritch beast and his ridiculous disguise.

“Excuse me, I’ll have to ask you to quiet down”, an employee suddenly interrupts. “You and the gentlemen over there.” You stare at him incredulously. Can he really not see he’s facing an enormous, tentacle monstrosity? You swear you can discern a grin forming across the creature’s amorphous, unholy features. Alright, you’ve been convinced. What now?

As a child, Sherlock Holmes was one of your favorite books. You'd flip through the pages and daydream about your own future as a detective, though your little fantasies never included Watson as a cursed entity of a thousand tentacles. The eldritch creature seems to be more interested in you than the case itself. Eyes always fixated on your movements, tendrils creeping around you, never leaving your proximity.

Why would he need to look elsewhere? He can already tell how things will unfold. He is, after all, the God of this land. He knew your wanted culprit had been hiding in a sealed room right under your nose, as you dusted for footprints and scribbled hurried notes. He knew the underground tunnel had deadly traps, which would have normally put your investigation to a swift end. "Kind of suspicious to leave his trail unguarded like this", you mumble in deep thought. The cosmic God smiles.

He wouldn't dare ruin your fun. Consequently, he only interferes when your safety is involved. As annoyed as he is by the criminal's persistent attempts to kill you, he doesn't want to steal your grand capture. Besides, he is very much content with the current circumstances.

As the two of you follow along the dark passageway, you clear your throat, lips pursed awkwardly. "Uh...Thank you for dealing with the obstacles", you finally say. The monster pretends to ponder your words. "Hey now, don't play dumb with me. The conveniently deactivated bombs? The mutilated guards clumsily stuffed behind the door? I am a detective, after all."

You feel a thick tendril wrapping around your arm, and you turn to glance at the creature. His eyes of spiraling depths regard you intensely. A voice suddenly echoes in your head; is he trying to communicate with you? Deep, resounding, and imposing. "I am looking forward to our next case."

"Next case? Sorry pal, I work alone-" your throat clenches involuntarily. Somehow, your innards are flooded with a particular kind of certainty, dictating an ironclad truth: you do not have the option to refuse. You sigh, exasperated. "Fine! Have it your way. At least skip the fake mustache", you beg, then pause. You slap a second tentacle that has made its way under your shirt. "And avoid groping me when I'm thinking. You interrupt the little gray cells at work." You tap your temple to prove your point, and the eldritch God bows lightly. Of course.

He'll refrain himself until you're off work, Detective.

[comicaurora]

hi red!! i'm doing an analysis of sun wukong's (and journey to the west in general's) impact on modern culture for my world mythology final, and for some reason i'm having a hard time finding sources. is there anything you can recommend?

The fact that Journey to the West has contributed an enormous number of tropes to modern media is very clear when the media in question is examined, but I don't know of a specific secondary source that's already done that analysis for you. However, this IS a very good excuse for you to plow through a metric buttload of shonen manga, since the lineage is basically Sun Wukong -> Son Goku -> like a solid third of all shonen action heroes written in the last forty years.

Dragon Ball kicks things off:

Started in 1984 and almost unquestionably the most influential manga ever made. Its first arc features the weird super-strong monkey-kid Son Goku - which is just the japanese pronunciation of the characters of Sun Wukong's name - meeting up with a wacky crew of thinly-veiled expys of the Journey to the West crew, with teen inventor Bulma filling the role of Tripitaka, Oolong the pig-man filling Zhu Bajie's role and Yamcha the desert-based bandit as Sha Wujing.

Hijinks ensue, and while the story drifts pretty far from Journey to the West's original plot, it actually stays pretty solidly referential in weirdly unexpected ways. Several the villains of the week are JttW references, and even the later appearance of three more Saiyans lines up with the surprise reveal of three more Wukong-like mystical apes in the original story.

The connection between Dragon Ball and JttW is very unsubtle and a frequent reference in the chapter covers and supplemental art.

Not every subsequent JttW reference is the result of Dragon Ball popularizing it or anything, since it was already enormously popular, but I think it's pretty hard to extricate Dragon Ball's influence on anime and manga from the original influence of Journey to the West itself.

One way that a distinction can be drawn is in the differences in characterization between Goku and Sun Wukong himself. A lot of the next generation of shonen protagonists were kind of Goku-alikes - pure-hearted dumbasses who only care for the three Fs: Food, Fighting and Friendship.

But the original characterization of Sun Wukong is not really all that similar. He's a trickster, sure, but he's far from a young, friendship-motivated goober. He's profoundly intelligent, pretty much the most well-educated entity on the planet, and routinely brings up that he's centuries older than most of his peers. The Goku-alikes from the later decades of shonen anime are tellingly far-removed from that original characterization. So you get characters based on Goku's cheerful idiocy, but it's just a small subset of the broader influence of Journey to the West on the space of literature.

In general, Journey to the West frequently shows up in very small, bite-sized tropes in other stories. It's less "this is wholly based on Journey to the West" and more "oh, I know where they maybe got this idea/aesthetic/power/weapon/villain of the week from." There are way too many to list, but some of the ones that tend to jump out at me are-

Sneaky characters with monkey motifs:

Tricksy, highly mobile characters who fight with a staff:

Characters afflicted with a magical restraint artifact that allows a much weaker character to stop them from misbehaving:

Specific esoteric weapons, eg. magical fans, rakes, gourds, namedropping The Sword of Seven Stars, etc.

Villains with prominent ox or pig design motifs:

Characters whose primary combat strat is just making Shitloads Of Disposable Copies Of Themselves:

Honestly it just keeps going like this. It's kinda everywhere. Finding the JttW in things is my favorite conspiracy theory rabbit hole because it's 100% harmless and more often than not completely correct.

[firstofficerkittycat]

its the way spock closes his eyes when kirk says "you've been called the best first officer in the fleet" like he knows he's trying to tell him he needs him without saying that and the mask of professionalism is unbearable. and the way he follows it up with "that's an enormous asset to me" with way too much emphasis and way too much restraint just for the love of god. the secrecy of it all and the mutual understanding and the pleading pleading pleading and neither of them can say it out loud

[jayybugg]

dreams come true

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.

Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.

Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banners as always! Hope you enjoy!

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.

“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.

“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”

Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”

“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.

“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”

Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.

“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”

Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”

He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.

“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”

Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”

You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.

“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”

Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”

You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”

Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.

The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.

To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.

You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.

“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.

“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.

It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.

“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”

You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.

With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.

“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”

You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.

“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”

Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”

He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”

“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”

“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”

Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.

“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”

He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.

Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”

Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”

Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.

Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”

“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”

“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”

“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.

“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”

Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”

Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”

You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.

“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”

“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.

“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”

Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”

“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.

“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”

You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.

Today was truly a dream come true.

[theoxenfree]

LUCID

sleep paralysis demon x reader | 3k | 18+

you've never known a true, good night of sleep in your entire life. when your doctor and best friend, dr. sujay patel, offers to vouch for you as the perfect candidate for a "last resort" sleep study and medication trial, you don't have high hopes. the first night of the trial, things go sideways very quickly.

warnings; technically somnophilia, dubcon, hair-pulling, restraint, some eerie/unsettling details, breech of patient-doctor boundaries, alcoholism, implied addiction/addictive personality, academic cheating, some culturally sensitive discussion, roughly proofread.

this is the first concept piece for my upcoming sleep paralysis demon x reader story!! to help me shape the story, pls answer feedback questions + reblog!!!

Children at your daycare liked to draw you fanciful pictures of the other lives they lived in their dreams during afternoon nap time. You were shown orange tabby cats with green eyes garbed in full-plates of knight’s armor, brandishing a fish sword against a foe to save the world. Most often, they dreamed of their families and drew bright, brave versions of themselves holding hands with a parent, a sibling, a bipedal family dog with an electric collar. A few of the children never smiled in their self-portraits.

The proportions of everything were always silly: gigantic tree trunks with tiny, green bundles sitting atop of them, three enormous fruits supported by brittle vines and growth in bushes, cats and dogs with ears as tall as their bodies, Mom with purple skin instead of brown, Big Sis looking particularly volatile with a theratrically large snarl. Despite this, the children beamed in pride whenever yesterday's drawings would come down off the wall to be replaced with the new.

For some of these kids, this was their own equivalent of having art hung on a refrigerator; to you, it evoked dull, thready jealousy because they were in possession so simple, so biologically normal to them and everyone else around them that to be incapable of the same thing was, surely, a major defect.

Sleep was already a treasure you were seldom allotted the pleasure of greedily surrendering to, but to dream sounded like a terrifying experience to you altogether. It took work; a stringent routine of warm showers (hot and scalding water was forbidden), with an array of chalky, dissolvable tabs and shower gels and shampoos and moisturizers and essential oil dehumidifiers and soy candles and hot tea and special pillow sleep spray you’d seen in an online ad while thumbing through socials.

It took pajamas that were loose, soft but not silky, it took a satin bonnet and a satin eye covering (the kind with pockets for your eyelashes to move), comforters soused in lavender spray meant to magically work out the tightness in your shoulders and calves without the need of paying for a masseuse’s bony elbow. It took purchasing a battery-operated alarm clock to wake yourself for work so you could shut off your phone and leave it plugged into the wall downstairs.

You'd nearly forgotten—you couldn't have sugar after half past six, you had to stagger your water consumption after that time as well because the urge to piss would keep you awake for hours after the fact. The television needed to be off once you finished putting away dishes after dinner.

If you were lucky, this would work and you'd sleep a total of two or three hours uninterrupted—never fully tipping over the edge of wakefulness into deep sleep, but enough to keep yourself going during the day, grocery shop, wrangle the small children, scrape at a bar, get dicked down into your mattress every now and then, and visit Sujay for your usual appointments.

“How do you feel about trying something different?” he always gestured to one of the modern-looking armchairs upholstered in teal polyester before bringing you a tea of some sort. Today was a floral white tea with a spoonful of honey. “Ah, my friend, I worry for you. We've done so many studies, we've tried so many different things. Does none of it help? At all?”

“Not really.” you admitted after a sip, singing your tongue once and placing aside the cup and saucer pair. “I don't know if I can keep doing this until the day I die, Sujay. What do you recommend next?”

Dr. Sujay Patel was your neurologist, an utterly brilliant man, and a close friend from your early university days. Despite the rest of your friend group falling apart, pulled in separate directions by the strings of fate and temptation of money, you'd managed to stay in contact with Sujay throughout grad school. There'd been an intermission, probably a period of two years, where you'd forgotten he even existed.

You were out making a disaster of your life on sleepless, drunken benders because you hoped enough alcohol would either knock you out or kill you. The normal distractions came with it: your entire family dynamic corroding and combusting, an ex getting too big for their britches, and a roommate suspiciously eager to rally behind that ex.

Sujay came back into the picture following a nasty incident of alcohol poisoning that left you bedridden in the hospital for a week. You had decided then, in that uncomfortable bed with their starchy, crunchy white sheets and the bathroom being too far away to simply get up and walk to, that you'd abstain from alcohol forevermore.

He'd seen you in a state of soul-weary disarray not long after you were discharged and had decided to take you on as a patient.

“Now, you have a choice here, just remember that.” Sujay sat adjacent to you in the exact chair you were in. He wasn't daunted by the heat from his tea and took some time with it, whether to savor the subtle notes of it or to consider his words, you weren't sure. “But, a colleague of mine at a… pharmaceutical company has been working to get an experimental sedative into some studies. Testing periods, I guess you could say.”

You're convinced by his dedication to his tea to pick up yours again. “Does it work?”

“As of now, one-hundred percent of those who have participated have reported high-efficacy, or at least have claimed it to be effective in some manner.” His mustache moved as he sipped. You drank as well. “I think you should submit to the study and if you're accepted into one of the control groups—commit to it. We're running out of options otherwise. I don't want you to start mixing up your own cocktail of things. All it takes is the wrong thing once, y'know?”

The chair groaned while you adjusted your weight in it. You sighed. “Would that once be such a bad thing, though? At least I could sleep.”

“I'm a doctor,” Sujay looked over his square-rimmed glasses at you, forehead wrinkles enormous, whites of his eyes showing more than the hazel of his irises. “Behave yourself.”

“Fine.” Mesmerized by the stray tea leaves that had managed to escape the metal ball steeper, you said, “tell me what I need to do.”

Sujay had sent you away that day with a whole host of follow-up appointments and a glowing review to his colleague in hopes of skipping the line as much as possible. Sometimes, it was beneficial to have friends in high places, especially when that means you get a call two days later for preliminary, formal interviews and an offer to participate in said study once clearances came through and your blood work came back as desired.

A month to the day when Sujay first mentioned the possibility of a magical cure all to your relentless insomnia, you were brought into a minimally furnished room—the standard, bland cookie cutter type that hadn't an ounce of personality—dotted from head-to-toe in stickers for neuromonitoring, heart rhythm, and whatever else they fancied, you supposed.

It was only after you had changed into your soft, but not too soft, pajamas and covered in wires that you were handed a tiny purple pill. The color of it was obviously a dissolvable casing and food coloring, but what amazed you was the fact a drug this small was meant to induce the best sleep of your life.

“Take the pill, drink at least four ounces of water, and lie supine.” The technologists outside your room, speaking into an intercom, elaborated afterward that they wanted you to stay on your back while you slept. You didn't bother to point out that you weren't stupid—just tired. “We understand that not everyone finds this position comfortable, but to receive adequate results and to measure your vitals at all times, we ask that you try your best.”

You weren't going to hassle them about this and did precisely as they instructed. Shoved the pill down the back of your throat, drank the bottled water, and tried to get comfortable on your back.

You closed your eyes.

A part of you wondered why you had assented to Sujay’s suggestion so easily, especially where everything else had failed. He was one hell of a friend, and had always been that way for you, but as a doctor, you wondered if two years of cheating through medical school, so as to not royally piss off his parents and be disowned for failing, was finally catching up with him somewhat.

You recalled being startled when he told you he hadn’t married yet and didn't intend to as some deep-rooted act of spite against his family and the traditions they had held over his head all his life. Traditions that had been weaponized against him, rather than supplement his life as an extension of his history, of the things he loved, of a chance to explore more of himself.

You had listened wordlessly the entire time he spoke about it, still sipping on his tea, the results from your latest brain scan clamped to a clipboard on his lap—

This wasn't working.

This was so stupid.

You opened your eyes and sat up in the stiff bed, carefully maneuvering your fingers around your orbital bone to force away the puffiness and exhaustion still lingering behind them. It was only as you rubbed your eyes that you noticed your face was empty of cold stickers and a thousand wires. You didn't hear distant blips in the machine measuring your heart rate, nor track the voices of anyone outside your door.

The room was still the same—the outdated, bulky dresser with claw feet, a few gray chairs you could buy on display in a window somewhere, a low oval table, a bedside table for your glass of water and a crisp, neatly folded change of clothes for the next day.

It was only unusual that you were bare of the technologist’s monitoring equipment and sitting amid an unfaltering, deep silence that amplified the sounds of your very existence. Your slow breaths with a quickening heartbeat, blood pumping in your ears, and the coarse rustle of bedsheets as you shifted around the mattress to bring some sense to what was going on.

Would the technologists have come into the room and removed everything from your body without waking you? More miraculously, without you rousing and throwing your hands on them for touching you first?

“Maybe the drug worked?” you had to consider the possibility, even though it still felt as far-fetched as the holistic medicine practitioners online telling you that an herbal cleansing juice could regenerate organs entirely. “Did I actually sleep? I don't remember dreaming, though. Aren't I supposed to dream?”

You looked to the one, single-paned window across the bedroom to spy how far along the morning had progressed, but found yourself sucking in and holding in a breath instead.

There, standing in your view of the outside, was the silhouette of a tall man. Everything about him was indistinguishable aside from the depth of darkness that made him up. Within the confines of the dim room, alight by a single lamp with an amber bulb that seemed to weaken by the second, this man stood apart from the shadows as something deeper, blacker, but corporeal.

He was every bit a part of the dark as much as he wasn't. And you couldn't tell if he was fading you or turned to look out the window at the parking lot two stories below.

“Hi—hello. Are—are you one of the techs?” you had finally let out that breath, now focusing on gauging the guy’s level of sociability, and by extension, his friendliness and the likelihood of him lunging at you. “I, uh, just would've really appreciated it if someone had woken me up before taking off the stickers.”

You were able to see out the window from the gaps around his body, taking note that it was still dark. Very dark. Beyond that, nothing else was discernible from where you sat and what he blocked.

The study wouldn't have finished yet.

Those techs would've taken precaution to wake you up if something had happened.

“Am I asleep?” you asked the wordlese man. “Am I dreaming now? Are you a dream? Is that what it's like?

You never imagined that there could be so much lucidity within a dream, a level of consciousness so similar to a state of wakefulness. When you thought about moving, you could perfectly flex your fingers, curl your toes into the high-pile carpet underfoot, touch the airy fabric covering your body and feel it touching you in turn.

How normal was this really, though? No one had ever told you about dreams like this. Theirs were always fragmented and discombobulated, just like the kids in daycare who drew pictures of pig astronauts and flame extinguishing spatulas. You knew of a rare few in the population capable of controlling their dreams, steering the outcome in the direction they pleased, but even those people were overrode by their own brains.

This was something completely different.

You became especially convinced of this when you thought the stifled air suddenly shifted with a light breeze, a soft whoosh in your ear. A chill erupted over you, making your skin burst with goose flesh, your brain chasing a shiver down your spine as if cold fingers stroked you all the way down the length of it. Those same fingers stayed low, hovering across your lower back before pushing into you, arching you down onto the mattress.

That freedom you thought you had only moments ago was gone, stolen by this invisible hand on your body that was rounding to you and reaching for your chest. Until now, you thought this had simply been a part of the dream—something you had believed to be in control in when the reality was much different—but, as the buttons on your sleep shirt unfastened before your eyes, the thin layers opening you to the cold, inky air, you weren't sure what to think, to do.

Another hand joined the first with long, heavy fingers to knead at your body and take your pants off of your hips until you were fully exposed to the darkness and the thing still dwelling within the room. It hadn't moved an inch since you'd noticed it a while ago; it never became any clearer, any more defined in the clothes or wore, and trying to look upon its face only filled you with puzzlement and dread.

The large hands were so cold despite all their movement on your hot skin, all of the work they did to start riling you up and making you moan. One of them groped your chest, felt your throat, squeezed your jaw as though to force your gaze at one point in particular (the ceiling), pushed apart your lips to dip into your mouth and wet its fingers on your tongue.

You did so as it was the only thing you could do freely right now.

Those fingers, covered in your spit, caressed you between your legs, stroking you in motions neither gentle or harsh. The muscles in your thighs flinched, stomach tightening, your throat vibrating to produce a moan smothered by the second hand circling your throat, gripping firmly enough where you could breathe, but just barely.

The thing couldn’t stop your thoughts, as much as it seemed to try, so it took to interrupting them—distracting you but squeezing your neck, yanking your head back into the pillow by your hair, adjusting itself to thrust multiple fingers into your body, burying them to the knuckle.

You tried to win this war of willpower by thinking about Sujay and his mustache and his stupid glasses. They were green, sometimes blue; seldom did he like the tortoiseshell look.

The thing lunged at your neck again, this time taking you underside the jaw and forced your head back into the pillow while it fucked you deeper on three fingers.

You wanted to make a sound; a moan, a scream, a torturous whimper or pleasure for the way your body was rocked on the bed, creaking with the weight of a pair combined and not just how it appeared. Your nostrils flared, heart rate at an uneasy high, breaths stuck in the column of your throat behind the hand holding it.

The pressure continued to stack higher and higher, building to such a point where you knew you were about to lose it, unravel, praying that this thing would grant you the kindness of fucking you out of your orgasm.

Your abdomen was wound tight, your groin ached terribly, and your thighs started to shake. Behind your eyes, the kaleidoscopic wheels of color intermingled with the darkness and it all slowly burned to white.

And then—

“Good morning!” you were being shaken awake by one of the technologists, a middle-aged woman with blue eyeliner. she didn't expect for you to jolt upright, stick straight, and launch the covers off of your body. “Oh—hey, honey, you alright? We’re done until tonight. How do you feel?”

You were slow to respond to her, occupied by the morning light filtering in through the window across the bedroom. She gave you some time to gather your bearings and took her time removing the stickers and wires from your skin, suggesting you spend some time really scrubbing in the shower later to get off all the adhesive.

“How about now, honey?” she pulled the last sticker and wire combination off of your shoulder. “You with us?”

You didn't know how to answer that, especially not with how damp you felt inside your thighs.

a/n; thank you for reading and choosing to help me shape the story further!! this is all inspired by the fact that I have frequent bouts of sleep paralysis myself and on three consecutive occasions, after taking some questionable drops from an ex-friend, I saw something. I want to make this very clear that this story is intended to be pretty extreme psychological horror. anyway, here are the questions

sujay will be a major supporting character in the story, so what would you be interested in seeing more: 1) sujay and mc further blurring that boundary and possibly becoming a pair, but their "relationship" becomes thwarted by SPD 2) sujay, possibly, ends up with more yandere tendencies as the story progresses and with the development of the plot, could result in a terrible ending for him—but interesting 3) sujay and mc are inherently a toxic duo, but he tries his best to support mc (platonically or one-sided romantically) as they spiral out of control?

in terms of SPD's appearance, what idea do you like better: 1) him, eventually, having a definitive, solid form and features across the span of the story 2) he remains like a "black silhouette" with the invisible hands, but he has the sort of voice that's lulls and lures and manipulates 3) he takes on features that mc (you) find attractive, but they're all wrong and progressively becomes more monstrous 4) he has a physical appearance that's "all wrong", but you can never figure why or what he actually looks like despite SEEING him. if you want to choose multiple, you need to get VERY specific.

I intend for this story to be incredibly dark in terms of sexual content bc SPD is a demon/monster. he is not good. he is not loving. when you think of "dark" for smut, what would you want to see??

[reareaotaku]

I read your last Yandere!Ken headcanons...so I wanted to ask you if you would ever write smut for Yandere!Ken?

I Love You Like a Doll

[God, I hope this is good... Warning, I haven't had much experience with Smut]

Yandere! Ryan! Ken x Fem! Reader Word Count: 1,674 Tw: Smut/Nsfw, Strap-on/Sex Toy, Human! Reader, Kidnapped! Reader, Slight Panic Attack, Loss of Virginity, Porn W/ Plot, Foreplay, Restraints, Dub-Con, Crying 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

He wanted it so bad. He didn't really have the parts to do it, but he learned that this 'love-making' thing is what people do when they love each other. He loves you and he wants to show it to you.

He looked at the toy, confused. It was supposedly a plastic version of human male genitals. There was a belt-like rope attached to it, that he could wrap around his waist and then there was fabric that would cover where his dick would have been. The dildo was attached to it.

It was strange to Ken. He had never seen anything like it. Was this what you liked? He thought it was strange, but he was in no place to judge you.

Speaking of you, he needed to get you food. That was also something he didn't understand about your kind. You needed this substance to survive and he didn't understand it. But because of this, he made it where food was more accessible in Kendom, but it only benifited you. No one else needed the food.

He placed the strap down, before grabbing a plate filled with small snack foods. He leaned on the door of the room you were being held in. He smiled himself when seeing you still tied up to the bed.

You saw the male and struggle against the restraints, before groaning and giving up. He closes the door and goes to your side while setting down the food. He caresses your face, moving some lose strands out of your face.

There were tears streaming down your face and your eyes were swollen and red. If there wasn't a gag in your mouth, you would have been screaming at him.

"If you promise not to scream, I'll remove the gag." He tells you, tilting his head.

You quickly nod, wanting to get the thick ball out of your mouth. When he takes it out, you take a deep breath, greedy for oxygen, since you were deprived of it. He picks up a cracker, examining it, before putting it near your mouth.

"Open."

You did as he said, hoping that maybe he'll let you go if he thinks you're accepting him.

"I was thinking of trying something..."

Your eyes widened, confused. Your mind was racing with thoughts and concerns on what he could possibly be talking about. His mind was corrupt and destroyed, so you didn't know where he was going with this.

"I was hoping you'd let me. I mean," He straightens up, almost as if he realized he was coming off more submissive, "Of course you'll let me. Why would you deny me? I deserve it."

You looked at him like he was crazy, which he was, annoyed by his statement. You almost wondered what he was like before, if this was him at his worse. How could he have fallen so far off?

"And if it goes well, I might consider letting you out of this room."

Your eyes widen in hope and excitement. You should have been more cautious... You should have known better.

He smiles down at you, "Well, I'm glad you're so open."

"What is it that you want me to do?"

He taps his chin, almost as if he was debating telling you. You frowned, tugging harder on the restraints.

"Wouldn't it be more fun if I showed you?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together, your heartbeat picking up. Your amygdala was sending glutamate into other parts of your brain, causing your body to freeze up. It felt like you were being ambushed by enormous tides of water that was quickly drowning you.

You hear the door click as he leaves, causing you to come back down to Earth- Wait, where you even still on Earth? Honestly, you didn't really know. Though, it didn't take long before Ken came back and he was holding something behind his back.

He stands at the end of the bed, before kneeling on it. The divot of his weight feels strange, when your body goes down with it. You watch him carefully, still unsure of his intents.

He finally pulls the thing out from his back. You gasp when seeing the long, thick, dildo strapped to a wrap. You wondered where he even got ahold of such a thing. As far as you knew, Ken wasn't even really human like you were. He had the body of a doll.

"Is it too big?" He asked, genuinely concerned when seeing the fear on your face. "I heard 7 inches was average."

You shook your head. You had never taken anything that big inside you. Granted, you had never taken anything inside, but it was so much bigger than anything you'd ever seen. It was thick and veiny and made you wonder why someone would put that much detail into a toy.

You can hear him unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. You avoided eye contact as he attached the strap to his waist.

"Honestly, Y/n... I don't know what I'm doing."

You looked up at him, as he struggled with your pants.

"I want to do this right," He says it as if he's trying not to cry. He wants to please you. He wants to make you happy. He wants you to love him.

You pull on your arms and he looks up at you when hearing the headboard shake.

"Right, you're still tied up." He hums, "If you promise not to fight me, I'll untie you."

You weren't stupid. If you had the ability to fight off Ken, you wouldn't be here. "Okay. Please untie me, Ken."

He blushes at your begging, before going up to untie you while avoiding eye contact. You rub your wrists, red marks imprinted on them. You groan, before looking up at Ken. He was towering over you, seemingly loss and confused on what he was supposed to do.

"None of you have genitals right?"

He looks at you, "No."

"So you've never done this?"

"No."

"Me either."

He smiles, happy that you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. Granted, he had kidnapped you and he didn't deserve you, but he didn't care. He had you now, and that's all that mattered. He's willing to learn whatever he has to, so he can please you.

He pushed his hands through your folds, playing with it. He had never seen it before, so he was curious. You bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. He wasn't doing anything special, so you felt you shouldn't give him your moans. He pushed his fingers towards your clit, rubbing the hood, before pulling it back and flicking your clit, causing you to lightly squeal.

It was cute. He had never heard a sound like that before. How could he live without it now having had heard it? He kept 2 fingers on your clit, lightly rubbing it, while his other hand lightly pushed through your pussy. He pulled back your labia minora, lightly licking where his fingers had once been.

A loud moan erupted from your throat when feeling his wet tongue. He smirked against you, before squeezing his tongue inside of your wet hole. His fingers play with the outside of your pussy, which makes you wonder if he lied to you.

He pulls away, causing you to frown, before you shook your head. This man had kidnapped you, you shouldn't be liking it! But it was so good. And he was so cute. And he really liked you, more than any man or woman has ever liked you.

He kneels over you, positioning the strap head over your pussy. This was really happening and you were letting it. You grabbed his shoulders, your nails digging into his perfect skin as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned, the strange sensation of pain foreign to him. He bottoms out and you sigh in relief.

You look up at him, but his eyes were closed, as if he couldn't look at you. He didn't want you to look into his eyes and see all of his emotions. So many feelings were rushing through him and they were all very new to him. What was this blooming feeling in his stomach? It felt... well, it felt nice.

You smacked his shoulder, causing him to open his eyes. "Move, please."

He chuckled at your submission. If he knew this is what he needed for you to love him, he would of dont it a long time ago. He pulled out, leaving only the tip, before shoving himself back in. You nearly scream at the intrusion, not expecting it. You pull yourself towards him, chest to chest.

He slowly began to thrust, finding a rhythm as you move along with him. He admired the way your eyes rolled back and drool rolled down your cheek. You were out of it. Almost like a doll.

The second the thought came into his head, he picked up his pace. You did remind him of a doll, even though you were anything but. Your moans became louder as your walls tightened around the rubber dildo. You could feel the tight squeeze and every vein imprinted on the toy.

It was slushing inside of you and the wet sounds of the balls smacking against your ass echoed in the small room. Your words became incomprehensible as your body tightened and you could feel a tight knot in your stomach.

And then, Ken hit you with one last thrust and that tight knot bursted, causing you to loudly moan Ken's name, catching him by surprise, as your cum flushed out like a waterfall. You had never came like that on your own and it was hot.

Though, you did not feel hot. You were sticky and sweaty and your hair was sticking to your face. You must have looked terrible and smelled like sex and body odor. Though, Ken seemed to think otherwise, because he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I love you."

[cloudsofbespin]

It takes an enormous amount of restraint for us, the little drink. For a human, experiencing it for the first time, it was… unsettling. And not for the physical toll on my body, which was significant, but for the feelings of intimacy it awoke within me.

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022 -) S01E01: "In Throes of Increasing Wonder…"

[oliversrarebooks]

corporate retreat part 1 / 4

I went into a fugue state and wrote nine thousand words about an overworked corporate drone being brainwashed for their own good.

Masterlist > Next

tw: brainwashing, conditioning, dehumanization, drugging, humiliation, hypnosis, restraints,  corporate culture, weight insecurity mentioned, a little kinky

"Welcome to the Brainwashing Department! You must be today's test subject. We're happy to have you!"

Quinn stared in disbelief at the receptionist's guileless and strangely familiar smile. "You're awfully cheerful about this, aren't you?"

"Well, I love my job," he said without the slightest trace of malevolence. "As I'm sure you know, the Brainwashing Department is critically important to the organization. Without us, we wouldn't have sleeper agents, puppet politicians, memory erasure... and it's interesting work, too. No two subjects are the same." He glanced at Quinn's badge and then at their face. "Say, I recognize you. You're from IT, aren't you? You're the one who always unlocks my laptop when I forget my password!"

Oh, shit, that's where they remembered this guy. Quinn wasn't sure what they found more mortifying: the fact that they'd been recognized, or the idea of letting a guy who obviously didn't know how to work a laptop be in charge of human minds. Maybe he'd been a test subject, and it affected his brain... although considering what Quinn had signed up for, that wasn't at all comforting.

"Yeah, I'm from IT," said Quinn. "Can we get started? I'd prefer to get this over with."

The receptionist laughed. "You seem like you could use a vacation. Good thing you're here. No better vacation than a vacation from your thoughts, right?" He pushed a button on his phone. "Dr. Moon, your test subject has arrived."

Quinn played with their phone and tried not to look like an anxious wreck as they waited for the doctor. This was such an awful idea, but they didn't have much of a choice. 

---

"You used to be my favorite minion. I hate to see your potential go down the drain, and I'd really, really hate to have to put you on a performance improvement plan," their boss had said. "You know, just because we're in the business of underground supervillainy doesn't mean we don't value our employees' mental health. You should take a vacation, recharge yourself."

"I'm out of PTO," said Quinn.

Their boss leaned over her desk with a frightening look in her eye. "Have you happened to see the fliers the Brainwashing Department has been posting?"

Oh, they didn't like where this was headed. "The ones looking for compliant test subjects? The ones promising a $5000 bonus and a month of PTO?"

"Exactly! Doesn't that solve your problem?"

"The month of PTO is just the month you spend as their brainwashed test subject."

"Details," she said with a handwave. "You get PTO and a chance to relax --"

"-- by being drugged and hypnotized out of my skull --"

"--and you'll come back refreshed and ready to work."

"Presumably because you'll get them to brainwash me to be a better employee."

"See, everyone wins!" she said. "I highly recommend that you volunteer."

And that was that. Quinn certainly didn't have the clout to argue, especially when they were at risk of being at the bottom of the stack ranking. You didn't want to get stack ranked in this organization. It usually involved poison in your cafeteria rations.

---

"Quinn? You're a volunteer for brainwashing testing, right?"

Quinn looked up to see a middle-aged woman wearing the aquamarine jumpsuit of the higher-status employees, along with a lab coat and a pair of enormous round glasses. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she had a strangely warm smile given her profession. 

"I'm Quinn, and yeah."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Dr. Moon," she said, holding out her hand for a shake, and her hands felt warm as well. "Thank you for volunteering. It's critically important that we have adequate testing subjects for refining our process, before we have to use the techniques on important targets. So many employees are frightened of our department, even though our work is really quite pleasant. You don't have anything to worry about, though. I promise that your mind is good hands here."

"Good to know," they said. "Hopefully I can give you some good data." It really wasn't the competency of the Brainwashing Department that worried them -- they'd seen their results firsthand. If anything, they were perhaps a little too competent.

"I'm sure your data will be invaluable. Now, if you could follow me..." She turned and swiped her keycard at the double doors next to the reception desk, ushering Quinn inside.

They stood in a short, sterile, and blindingly white hallway with several doors on each side and another large set of double glass doors at the end. "Those doors lead to the primary brainwashing floor," Dr. Moon said, gesturing to the end of the hallway. "But first, I'm going to have you go into one of our prep rooms." 

She slid her keycard on one of the side doors, which opened up to a small room with some lockers, a shower, and a bench. "Put your uniform and any personal effects -- except your glasses and anything medically necessary -- in the locker. Then, take a shower using the provided soap and dress in the clothes you find in the locker. Make sure you clip your identification tag to the gown, so we don't lose you."

"Wouldn't want that to happen."

"When you're done, just press the button and I'll be back to guide you to the next phase," she said. "Take your time. We're in no hurry."

Quinn shut the door behind them. They stripped off their sneakers, a pair of socks adorned with little green alien heads, and the gray jumpsuit that marked their middling status in the organization. The hot water felt great as they stepped into the shower, and the soap was pleasantly scented with lavender. It would've been relaxing if the shower hadn't given them a chance to be alone with their own thoughts.

Were they really going through with this? They could've told their boss no, but that would've just ended badly. The terms of the test subject agreement guaranteed that the process would be reversed at the end, but it wasn't like they trusted that. They knew what the Brainwashing Department was capable of. They could wipe any memories they didn't want them to have, they could implant suggestions of being more loyal and eager to work, they could humiliate them in so many ways, they could simply leave them brainwashed permanently... 

Quinn sighed. This was absolutely going to suck, but there was no use worrying. It wasn't like they were going to turn back now.

The provided outfit was a soft blue cotton hospital gown and padded socks. They were quite comfortable, but made Quinn feel entirely too exposed and vulnerable without their familiar jumpsuit. The badge they clipped to the gown had their name, picture, subject number, and a series of codes designating the brainwashing procedures they were going to undergo. Quinn didn't know enough about the department's work to know what the codes meant.

They pressed the button.

A few minutes later, Dr. Moon entered the room. "I hope you had a nice shower. Let's get you into the other room to do a few necessary checks."

The next room was a bit like a doctor's office. "I'll need you to stand on that scale, please," said Quinn.

"Is that really necessary?" They fucking hated this part of the doctor's visit.

"It's not for judgement or shaming, really! We just need accurate weight to make sure the medication dosage is correct. It's for your own safety. You don't even need to look."

Somehow, even the idea of being weighed for brainwashing drugs was preferable to being shamed again. They didn't look as they stood on the scale, and Dr. Moon made no comment.

"Now, if you'll sit on the table for a minute, please," she said. "Let me just check your breathing... your eyes and ears..."

Quinn sat as still as they could as Dr. Moon pressed a stethoscope to their chest and shined a light in their eyes, but they couldn't keep their knee from bouncing.

"Any vision or hearing problems, other than your need for glasses?"

"No."

"Any disabilities we should be aware of? Here in the Brainwashing Department, we pride ourselves on our commitment to diversity. We'll adjust our procedures to accommodate any disability, mental or physical, to ensure that everyone can safely and easily fall under our control."

"Uh. Not that I know of." Quinn most certainly was not going to spill their mental health difficulties to this woman. She'd probably have access to all of Quinn's secrets soon enough... ugh, they'd rather not think about that.

"All right, then. If you're ready, I can lead you to the brainwashing floor and we can get started on your procedure."

"I'm not sure I can be any more ready than I am right now, so..."

"I know it must seem nerve-wracking, but trust me, once we get started you won't be worried at all."

"That doesn't especially ease my worries."

They followed Dr. Moon through the double doors and into the main brainwashing floor. Here, thirty of the organization's brainwashing devices were arranged in neat rows, big plush reclining chairs with restraints and screens and medical tools. They were all currently occupied by people of all ages and types undergoing procedures. Most of the people were half-asleep and watching hypnotic screens, mouthing words under their breath, hooked up to gas tanks and IV lines containing the drug cocktails that made them docile and malleable. Some were being induced, surrounded by staff monitoring their vitals as they went under. Others had a staff member drilling commands into their minds. One woman at the back was thrashing and fighting as the department staff wrangled her into restraints and into a mask.

Quinn had long been desensitized to the brainwashing floor. After all, when you worked for an organization like this one, morals flew out the window with your first paycheck. The work they did was necessary to keep the organization going, and honestly less messy and more humane than some of the other departments. Quinn had had to come here plenty of times to help troubleshoot problems with the machines, and had swiftly learned to tune out the droning hypnotic inductions and sounds of quiet struggle.

But it certainly hit differently now that Quinn knew they were destined for one of the devices. They couldn't help but imagine themselves in a chair, watching a hypnotic screen with a dazed smile and glassy eyes. The idea made their skin crawl with the fear they'd been shoving aside until now. They hated the idea of not being in control, and especially the idea of other people seeing them helpless and vulnerable. But that fate was now inevitable. They weren't kidding themselves about their ability to resist. Dr. Moon would probably turn them into a drooling, tranced-out mess by lunchtime.

At least they'd get some good sleep for a change. Chemically-induced sleep with a side of mind warping, sure, but sleep nonetheless.

Masterlist > Next

[ohmenai]

Red Thong Dynamics.

Oh Men… I found myself wandering along the sun-drenched expanse of Peachy Beach, captivated by the wild beauty that unfolded with every step. The soft, golden sand beneath my feet felt like warm velvet as I approached a scene that seemed to shimmer with raw intensity, beckoning me closer. The OhMenFlex hung comfortably around my neck, ready to capture the kind of breathtaking moments that only the Manailands could provide.

The Panteras Negras were known for their mesmerizing presence—beefy and muscled, with skin so deep it seemed to absorb the sun’s rays. They were the kind of men that turned heads and made hearts race with just a glance. As I set my focus, the tantalizing trio came into view, clad in nothing but red thongs that accentuated their every curve and bulge. They were a force of nature, a seductive whirlwind of masculinity and allure.

The air was thick with the scent of sea salt and sweat as two of the men stood like dark, powerful sentinels on the sand, their large, toned legs planted firmly, displaying tan lines that drew the eye along the length of their sculpted physiques. The third man, kneeling between them, was a sight to behold—a symphony of erotic submission and fervor.

His lips were wrapped around the monstrous girth of the man on the right, whose thong had been provocatively lowered to his thighs, leaving a mark on his skin—a skindentation that was both a sign of restraint and impending release. The cock, as dark and imposing as a night without stars, plunged into the kneeling man’s throat with relentless precision, saliva glistening as it spilled over his lips, testament to the overwhelming endeavor he undertook.

The man on the left had one hand cradling the face of their willing accomplice, guiding him with a firm yet gentle insistence, each thrust a demonstration of unspoken camaraderie and raw desire. It was as though they moved to the rhythm of some ancient, primal dance, and I, the voyeuristic conductor, orchestrated each moment with the OhMenFlex. With a low aperture setting, I captured every detail—the glistening drool, the tensed muscles, the way the kneeling man’s eyes fluttered closed in utter devotion.

As the scene unfolded, the energy on the beach seemed to shift, the air vibrating with the anticipation of release. Each powerful thrust was met with a willing swallow, the kneeling man embracing the enormity of the task before him, his own red thong a vivid contrast against his deep skin. The drool that cascaded from his lips glistened like diamonds in the afternoon sun, a testament to the depth of his submission.

The moment was electric, an unbridled display of passion and power that left an indelible mark on the sands of Peachy Beach. As I stepped back, lowering the OhMenFlex, I realized that I had been privy to something more than just a scene of erotic indulgence. It was a celebration of male desire and connection, a living, breathing testament to the untamed spirit of the Manailands.

I packed away my camera, my mind already wandering to the possibilities of what the night might hold for them. Perhaps this was merely the opening act of an ongoing story, one that I might be lucky enough to witness again.