Ru/Eng (Russian is my native language but I'm sure I'm pretty good in English)
Idc about proshipping that's really not my problem I'm okay with pretty much everything unless it's really harmful
Selfshipper (my list is crazy yall)
I love supporting people and I would love to make some friends, so you can ask to be moots!
My fandoms:
Hamilton / The phantom of the opera / Turn: Washington Spies / SIG games / Until Dawn / Devil May cry / Ride the cyclone / Epic: The Musical / Mouthwashing / Detroit.... I actually have so many fandoms that I can list them for eternity, and I'm too lazy for this now
Fictionkins ( just characters I relate to in SO many ways it hurts)
I didn’t really want to post this because I don’t like it that much, but I have nothing better to post and I have people in my asks going feral for more Bobby/Erik so
“Huh?” the redhead tilted his head curiously, approaching Stein, who sat at his desk. “For what?”
For how long Spirit had known the mad doctor, and for how many experiments the man had inflicted on him, his self preservation skills were nonexistent in the presence of his former meister.
“Here,” Stein spun around in his chair, patting his leg, signaling for Spirit to sit, “I think you need a check up on those teeth of yours.”
“Ehh…” despite the dread forming in his gut, his legs disobeyed that feeling, carrying him closer to his old friend, “Says who?”
“Says your doctor,” the corner of his lips curled into a familiar smirk as Spirit obediently sat himself in his lap, the desk chair squeaking under their combined weight. “You’re overdue, in my opinion.”
“Y’know, I have to question if you’re even a real doctor,” Spirit sat rigidly, face growing red as Stein’s arms encircled his waist, holding him close, his chin resting on Spirit’s chest, looking up at him. A mouse caught in a trap. “I’ve never even seen any credentials… And if it’s my teeth you’re worried about, I’d rather see a dentist…”
“Don’t worry about that,” Stein droned, his hand cupping the other’s jaw, making Spirit flinch. “Be good and open up. Let me see.”
Spirit stared him down, squinting, but saying nothing, only wearing a flustered look on his face as Stein kept a grip on him, sweat forming at his temples.
No way he’d open his mouth for Stein to do… god knows what, and to such a sensitive area, too. What was he going to do? Pull out a few teeth? Cut out his tongue? Make a few incisions in his gums? Take a sample of his blood? Nope. Spirit would not give in, he would not allow Stein access to his body again, no matter how hard Stein tried to intimidate him.
Stein met his stare, expression blank besides a slight raise of his brows. He held Spirit's nervous gaze, eyes unblinking and void of any light, patiently waiting for his weapon to obey him.
Spirit swallowed, squirming slightly under those cold, calculating eyes. Deep, dark green, beautiful in the light, but terrifying when they were hunting you down.
Don’t give in. Don’t give in. He doesn’t control you, not anymore. You’re not asleep this time, you have a choice, he can’t do whatever he wants to your body anymore. Get out of his lap, refuse his sick desires. You’re a death scythe now, he doesn’t own you. He doesn’t control you. He doesn’t control you.
Spirit whined in defeat before slowly parting his lips.
“That’s a good boy,” Stein smirked again, those same terrifying eyes lighting up with desire, thumb tracing over Spirit’s bottom lip, then the top one, stretching the skin to reveal his front teeth. Spirit’s lips were so soft, so pink; he was nice and healthy and hydrated. “That’s very good, Spirit.”
“Don’t talk like that– mmn–”
He sputtered, cut off by Stein’s pointer and middle fingers suddenly invading his mouth, digits enveloped by the sweet heat of his opening, but Spirit kept his lips wrapped around them, refusing to open any wider.
“Come now, Spirit,” the doctor cooed, tightening his grip on Spirit’s chin, pulling down on it, forcing it open, eliciting a whine of protest from the man. That was alright, Stein enjoyed when Spirit was a bit feisty. Where was the fun if your prey didn’t fight back a little? “Don’t be shy.”
“Thith ith thtupid,” Spirit attempted to speak around the fingers in his mouth, though he had little success. His hand gripped Stein’s wrist, digging in his nails to keep him from fingering the back of his throat. “Yhou’re a fhreak.”
“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full,” Stein’s fingers pet his tongue, causing a red flush to bloom across Spirit’s cheeks, unable to make eye contact with the hungry gaze of his meister, “Now, be quiet.”
The command was spoken gently, but with intention, so Spirit obeyed, begrudgingly silencing himself, taking the probing of his mouth obediently, even as Stein’s free hand painfully dug into his jaw, keeping him still.
Starting with Spirit’s back molars, he traced the grooves they naturally formed, feeling each and every one with a concentrated attention, his eyes dark, fixated on nothing but the the feeling of the teeth under his touch. His teeth. Spirit’s teeth.
Skilled fingers smoothed over the death scythe’s front teeth now, becoming enamoured with a canine for a moment, before moving on. Stein hummed absentmindedly, smiling slowly, lost in the fantasy of whatever was cooking up in that sick little mind of his.
Spirit shuddered under the other’s hold, under that deep concentration, fearing whatever it was Stein was thinking, his tongue following those fingers as they traced each and every little node that made a home in his mouth. Maybe a reflex, maybe want for something more.
“You have beautiful teeth, Spirit,” the doctor purred, voice taking on a lower, almost loving tone, definitely a tone of endearment that made Spirit’s stomach turn. He swallowed, knowing Stein was growing excited, his past experiences teaching him that that was never a good sign. “Gorgeous. Perfect. Just like the rest of your body. I should’ve known.”
Spirit grew hot, body starting to tremble, a groan leaking from his throat at the praise. He started to drool with his mouth being held open for so long, a stream of spit running down his chin.
“I like this one especially,” Stein ran a finger along Spirit’s canine, on the right side. “It has a pleasant curve to it.”
God, he’s weird, Spirit thought, Who gets off on teeth, anyways? He could feel his pants becoming uncomfortably tight, his hips shifting in Stein's lap.
“I wonder how much you would bleed if I pulled this one out?” Stein mused, tugging slightly on one of Spirit’s molars, gaining another groan from the other man. “How much resistance would it put up? Would it be easier to remove with my hand or a tool? I think I have a pair of pliers lying around somewhere.”
The tug on his tooth, combined with Stein’s haunting statement, made Spirit perk up in alarm, his lips closing again, teeth biting down on the digits invading his mouth, his head shaking and trying to pull away, but Stein’s hard grip on him kept him held in place. Stein only chuckled at the man wiggling in his lap. He was so cute when he was scared.
“Now, now, Spirit,” the grin splitting open his face was full of affectionate malice, alarm bells ringing in Spirit’s head at the expression, his shirt clinging to his back with sweat, “Don’t get so upset. I’d numb you, of course, like I always do.”
Spirit attempted to say something around those fingers again, but they muffled his words too much to make sense of anything. Stein assumed he was being cursed out. Or called a freak. Or something along those lines. He’d heard it all before, and yet Spirit wound up at his doorstep night after night. He always had been all bark and no bite, just a dog who needed a firm hand.
“Be quiet,” that same command from earlier, his smile dropping, stone faced again. “I didn’t mean tonight. I was only thinking aloud.”
Stein finally let go of that bruising grip on his jaw, his hand moving to cradle the back of Spirit’s head, fingers getting lost in that pretty cherry-red hair of his, his hold gentler, soothing. Spirit grumbled, but settled down despite his hands shaking, heart threatening to beat out of his chest.
He was getting too old to keep dealing with so much adrenaline pumping through his veins all the time. Surely he’d have a heart attack one of these days if he kept crawling back; an overdose of Stein. It was either that or the alcohol that would do him in, and he couldn’t decide which death would be worse.
Not tonight? Spirit's anxiety made him dizzy. So he's still going to tug out my teeth some time in the future?
“Open up a little,” Stein wiggled his fingers in between Spirit’s lips to make his point, the other hesitating only slightly before parting his lips again, an annoyed look on his face. “Suck these. Be good.”
Spirit’s face grew completely red, almost matching his hair. His eyes twitched, darting away from Stein, then back to him, then away once more before squeezing shut for a moment, a grumble of embarrassment in the back of his throat.
He did as he was told, he always did in the end, his hand keeping a grip on Stein’s wrist as he began working his tongue, slipping it into the little ‘V’ between the doctor’s fingers, then swirling the muscle around the digits, hot saliva coating Stein’s calloused skin.
“That’s a good boy,” Stein praised, hand in Spirit’s hair tightening a little, keeping him in place, his fingers moving slowly in and out of the other’s pretty lips. Spirit couldn’t help but moan at the loss of control. “Keep still.”
Another moan from Spirit, more desperate this time, hot breath filling the air between them. Stein only stared, expressionless, observing, but his eyes grew dark once more with desire.
Spirit was such a pretty little thing, desperate for his touch, desperate to be torn apart, the only push he needed being a little praise. He always loved how pliable Spirit was under his hands, how easy he was to break in. His obedience was delicious and addictive, always drawing Stein back in, craving to completely destroy whatever resistance Spirit had left in him. Once his weapon, always his weapon.
Violate me, violate me, violate me, Spirit thought, eyes glazed over with need as he gave in completely. His sweet, moaning mouth took the fingers of his greatest fear over and over again, willing to surrender his body, as long as his aching need for attention was filled. Use me, use me, please use me like you love me.
The drool puddling on Spirit’s chin dribbled down his neck. Stein chuckled, finally removing his fingers from that eager mouth, a line of spit still connecting the two of them, his thumb wiping Spirit’s chin clean. The redhead whined at the loss of his mouth being invaded, panting, eyes big and needy, void of any of that pesky resistance from before. Stein thought they were the most beautiful shade of blue; the ocean on a cloudless day.
“I think that’s enough for this exam,” Stein didn’t hide a pleased smirk, wiping his dirtied fingers on Spirit’s shirt. He noticed the bulge in the other’s pants, straining against the material, but he paid no mind to it, even as it pressed needy against his own groin. Poor, deprived thing. “Now, run along.”
“What?” Spirit sputtered, finally noticing how messy he’d gotten, wiping his mouth on his sleeve in shame. “Oh, come on, you’re just going to leave me like… like this?”
He wiggled in Stein’s lap to make his point, but Stein only shrugged halfheartedly, leaning back in the chair casually.
“It was only a checkup, Spirit. It’s not my fault you got so excited.”
“Bastard…” Spirit glared down at him, pouting, “I know you must be soaked after that– that freakshow.”
“Maybe,” he adjusted his glasses. True, he was rather aroused himself, as his pants felt uncomfortably wet, but Spirit was endlessly fun to tease, and he really did have work to do. Tests wouldn’t grade themselves. “But I’m busy.”
“Busy!” Spirit pointed an accusatory finger in Stein’s face. “You weren’t too busy to rummage around in my mouth!”
“I just wanted to see,” his clean hand returned to the other’s jaw, gentle this time, thumb stroking along his burning cheek. Spirit grumbled and leaned into it, softening slightly. “If you’re a patient little dog, I’ll give you a treat later.”
Spirit squinted, staring down at the other man, frustration written all over his pretty, flushed face. Stein only blinked at him, and after a moment, Spirit sighed in defeat, looking away from him again and crossing his arms close to his chest.
“Mmh. Fine.”
“That’s a good boy,” Stein mocked, leaning forward to press a peck to the other’s lips, to which Spirit whined and pressed into, his own lips desperate for Stein’s touch to return to him. The doctor only chuckled, tapping his palm against Spirit’s cheek twice, his voice low. “Run along. I’ll make a mess of you later, Spirit Albarn.”
