AN: Fellas, my life is in shambles, and yet I can write a smutty fic for a fandom that’s miniscule.
Summary: Dokuga can’t kiss you… But you can definitely kiss him (just not on the lips, wah wah) I didn't proofread this so like... sue me.
Warnings: The Devil's Tango, Marijuanna usage (don’t do drugs fellas), blowjobs
It was an odd day. Odd because the hideout was empty besides Dokuga and yourself. It was a rare occasion that Dokuga wasn’t busy and even more so that you were alone. You and Dokuga had a sort of… situation. The both of you had flirted in the past and he seemed to open up to you the most. You were a step and a half away from being official, and the reason for that being his poison saliva.
So there you both sat; Stoned as all hell lounging on the couch. Dokuga was always very reserved (or cautious if you’re putting it bluntly). However, when Dokuga was high, he seemed to chill out immensely. He was much more lax when it came to talking about personal matters and how cautious he was with his spit. This isn’t the first time both of you have smoked together, but it’s a very rare occasion considering if someone found out you definitely wouldn’t have enough to share with everyone. Although, you did let him have his own joint for obvious reasons.
Dokuga laid his head back against the couch with his eyes closed whilst you had your head resting on his shoulder.
“I have a question for you,” Dokuga said, his words slurring together very slightly. “Have you… Have you ever kissed anyone?”
You giggled lightly, your head buzzing pleasantly. “I have, as surprising as it may be.”
“Nah, that’s not surprising,” He said, barely thinking about the compliment he just let slip. “I’m sure you had plenty of people lining up to kiss you.”
“Mmm… not really.” Your voice was relaxed as you pulled your head off of his shoulder to look at him.
There was a pause before he spoke again. “What was it like?” His voice was much softer than it had been all night, almost longing.
You thought for a moment before replying. “It was… nice,” heat crept up the back of your neck. “You’d like it I think… I’m sorry.” You say softly. There was always a certain disappointment in your heart that you’d never get to actually experience it with him.
“That’s okay…” He said, though you could hear the longing in his voice as he stared at the ceiling.
You think for a moment before leaning in close to him to press a kiss against his cheek. “What’re you…?”
You cut off his sentence before he can finish. “Well you can’t kiss me… but I can kiss you.” Heat rushed to his cheeks as he looked at you in awe. “May I…?”
He only nods, flustered beyond belief. “Okay…”
He meets your eyes as you lean in again to press a light kiss against his other cheek. Feeling how he makes no move to resist, you start to kiss down to his jaw and inevitably to his neck. The breath catches in his throat when you bite down gently on the soft area under his ear, licking the sensitive flesh to soothe whatever pain there is. His hands hover just above your hips, unsure of himself.
“You can touch me,” You say gently. “I trust you.” Taking initiative, you move so you’re straddling one of his thighs, his hands grab your hips instinctively. Holding his shoulders for support, you lean in to continue the loving assault on his neck. There would definitely be marks that would be difficult to cover up, though neither of you could seem to care at the moment. Dokuga starts to become lost in the feeling, between the weed and how touch starved he is, it doesn’t take long before he’s putty in your hands. His body shudders as he leans his head back to give you more access.
It doesn’t take very long for both of you to become restless. Dokuga’s breath comes out heavier, his hands grasping at your flesh greedily as they slip just under your shirt. You pull back to whisper in his ear, your breath coming out in small pants. “ Do you want more?”
Dokuga barely holds back a groan from escaping his throat as he eagerly replies. “Yes… please continue…”
You don’t hesitate as you go to nip at his collarbone, slowly pressing your hands under his shirt. Lost in the sensation, you don’t realize immediately that you’re starting to rock your hips against his thigh. He, however, notices immediately and nearly blows his load right then and there. Small whines escape his throat as he tries to hold back his moans.
“Please…” His voice is merely a desperate whisper and for half a second you almost want to deny him just to see him beg.
Carefully you move from your place on his leg, causing him to whine quietly at the loss. Settling yourself on your knees in between his legs, you run your hands up both his thighs. “Is this okay?”
Dokuga tries not to answer too quickly but the words are leaving his mouth before he can really think about it too hard. “Yes… Yes that’s- It’s more than okay!”
Trying your best not to laugh at his reaction, you run your nails lightly against his thighs before slowly going for the fly of his pants, giving him plenty of time if he wishes to stop you. He in fact does the opposite, helping you undo his pants and pulling them down just enough to let his erection free.
Wasting no time, you made eye contact with him and licked the tip of his cock, already starting to leak precum. A choked sound got caught in his throat and his eyebrows knit together as he bites down on his bottom lip. His face is red and he’s beginning to sweat, his breaths more like small puffs of air at this point.
His mouth falls open when you swirl your tongue around the head of him before trying to take all of him in one go. Gripping his thighs, you bob your head, his hand instinctively threading itself in your hair. You let him guide your movements before he starts to get restless.
Dokuga holds your hair at the base of your head tightly, thrusting his hips up slightly whilst moving your head along with it. On instinct, you gag around him, but the feeling of your throat tightening only enhances the feeling for him. He whines as he chases the peak of his pleasure, effectively fucking your face. As his peak rapidly approaches he quickens his movements before shoving your head down as far as it’ll go as he cums down your throat. A whimper escapes his throat as the pleasure washes over him, the weed greatly enhancing the feeling of your warm mouth.
Tears run down your cheeks from gagging around his length, Dokuga notices when he starts to come down and gently holds your face in his hand, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He studies your face, wanting to memorize every detail, engrave it all in his mind. Using one of his thumbs, he gently runs it across your bottom lip covered in your own saliva. Without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his lips, tasting you without endangering you.
It’s quiet as he guides you to the couch to lay on his chest, running his hand through your hair gently. “Thank you,” he says, voice just above a whisper. “I’ll find a way to repay the favor.” You can hear the determination in his voice, both of you drifting off to sleep, knowing that you both have each other.
The problem with playing smash or pass is that there's a lot of characters which I'm not sexually attracted to but I would fuck in a heartbeat out of sheer curiosity and ego, like I don't find Mickey Mouse attractive at all but if he approached me at a bar and went "Hey sexy, want me to show you my mouseketool?" I would say yes because then I get to tell my friends I fucked Mickey Mouse
I have been playing the fuck out of this game from months now. I absolutely love it. 10/10 would recommend. Had to do some artwork for my favorite class <3
(Little upset that it was too high up on the page and went over the perforated edge, but what can you do.)
Art Tag ↓ | Pinned | Writing Masterlist | Etsy | InPrnt
Mmmm I may be toasted but let me cook for a second
TW: Freeuse!Logan, pot usage
Imagine coming home pent up as all hell, frustrated as search for Logan who’s just chillin. He’s got hockey on, it’s his team so his entire attention is on the game. You quickly strip your pants off, leaving them on the floor as you straddle his thick thighs. He goes to speak but you just put your finger over his lips as you hug him around the shoulders.
It takes less than a minute for you to start grinding your damp underwear over his jeans where his cock resides. Logan can smell your cunt as the fabric becomes progressively more see through. Imagine he pulls out a fat joint from the end table and places it between your lips before lighting it.
His cock is hard and pressing against his zipper by now, just begging to be used and fucked. His hands go for his fly but you quickly stop them and guide them to rest against the back of the couch.
When you pull him out of his pants and boxers his cock is hard and leaking, the tip red and glistening, desperate for attention. It’s not long before your cunt swallows it whole, taking the dick meat right off the bone. He has to focus his attention on the game as to not cum immediately following the warmth and grip of your cunt.
Instead of bouncing as you normally would when having sex, you begin to grind down against him, puffing from the joint in your lips before offering it to him. His length massages your walls in all the right places as you grip his shoulders for support. Inadvertent edging him while you reach your own finish.
Okay it’s been one of my dreams for awhile now to go to clown college… but like can you imagine fuckin Wade silly style? Like true silly style? I’m talkin like loony toons shit. Like cumming out of a little flower that you have pinned on a hat or something. Just a thought. :-) also I love your works you’re amazing!
OMG lbr he’d joke about it but Wade would be so down for some clussy. You honk your nose when he first pushes inside you and he laughs so hard he has to stop for a second. Cum and the little flower on your hat squirts directly into his face. You go to offer him a wet flannel to clean up and just keep pulling a string of them out of your sleeve……….
part of the fun of the original alien is the horror of the nostromo itself imo. it’s a cell of corporate greed ferrying narrowly-trained workers across barren space. it’s huge and yet claustrophobic, cockpits crammed with machinery giving way to yawning berths dripping chains and water. the supercomputer is named mother in a stroke of human anthropomorphization, but instead of providing comfort or protection, it’s only a courier between its creator and its wailing brood. ripley yells “mother! mother!” at a matronly-voiced computer that speaks calmly over her helplessness. the ship is full of endless details and patterns and unlabeled buttons and dials the audience can’t entirely make sense of; to do anything on the ship is a rigorous, technical process, and we must depend on the characters to know it. the internal mechanics of the ship are so alien that a literal alien can hide among the bits and bobs and not be noticed. it’s great.
discoholicmusic
janainaart
theartofmadeline
germansingergirl
snowghoul
