Space Invader

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: EDM

Ships: Skrillmau5

Warnings: skrillien, noncon, oviposition, hypnosis

Skrillex is weird.

You’ve known that since you first met the kid and he gave you this unsettling stare as you took that USB from him, noticed him blinking his eyes just out of sync, one after the other. You haven’t seen him blink since. You’ve never seen him get carded for alcohol, even though he looks like he should be in college. Actually, in all the flying you’ve done together, you’ve never even seen him show his ID to TSA. He’s never met a happy medium between spacing out completely and looking straight into the depths of your soul. Sometimes, you overhear him talking to himself in a language you don’t recognize.

You’re so used to that sort of unsettling vibe that you don’t question his hand on your waist as you exit the club, or how cold it is. And you don’t question how you’ve only had a beer or two, but for some reason feel like the world is teetering on a pinpoint. The only thing swimming in your head right now is a vague sense of gratitude that he’s letting you prop yourself against him as you make your way out back toward the bus. 

The stars seem brighter than usual, even through a haze of city lights. They twinkle like they’re talking to you. 

Something shimmers in your peripheral vision, but when you look back, it’s just Sonny, smiling warmly and rubbing your arm. 

“You’re really out of it. How much did you drink?” He asks, and you start to double-guess yourself. Before you can think, much less say anything, he pulls you closer and tugs you along. “You should be glad I’m taking care of you.”

You’re not sure what words are trying to come out of your mouth, but when you go to speak, you find your tongue feeling impossibly numb and useless. You slur out something like uhuh.

“You really need the rest,” Sonny agrees.

You find yourself on your back in Sonny’s bunk soon enough, and he’s pushing you into the sheets, fingertips strangely warm compared to the rest of his hand. You look up at him, and something glints in his eye just for a second. Did he always have freckles? Or does he have glitter on his face? Where’d the glitter come from?

“I’m just helping you, Joel,” he mutters when you raise an arm, and pushes it back down into the pillow palm-up. “Don’t fight it.”

You don’t know what it is and you’re not sure you’re fighting anything, but you feel the resistance leave your muscles. As Sonny shifts under the sheets with you, something cool and slimy touches your leg. 

“Wha…”

“Shh, Joel…” His finger rests on your lips. He straddles you, and you feel the slimy thing wriggle. The light catches his cheek in just such a way it distracts you. 

“That’s it. Follow the light.”

You don’t really hear the words, but you obey them, because something in the light is mesmerizing. It fades from blue to teal to green, back to teal to blue, to teal to green to teal to blue.

Sonny spreads your legs. You feel the wetness against your thigh, but don’t notice at first when it slips inside you, until you feel his hips press against yours and begin to rock. It’s slippery inside, rubbing against your walls, and- oh. A shudder runs up your spine. That felt nice, and really, the only sensation you take in is that gentle wave of pleasure.

The light is hypnotic, swaying from one hue to another like the ebb and flow of the tide. 

Your mouth opens a little as he pushes into you deeper, opening you up and stretching your virgin hole. Something in the back of your brain begins to register the situation and half-protests, but before the sound can fully escape your mouth, his fingers are inside it, stroking your tongue as he coos, “ You’re doing well. ”

You’re not sure why the praise works so effectively to soothe you, get you to lower your hackles and relax and keep taking it. The word stop exits your brain, just as softly as it had entered and thrice as swift. Another wave of pleasure wracks you as he thrusts, brushing over a spot that makes your mind blank and your eyes flutter. You feel tears beginning to well up, and you try to blink them away, and your eyes are wet and all you can see is the slow transition of green, teal, blue, teal, green.

You only remember where you are when you feel something decidedly too big press at your entrance. You open your eyes and Sonny is staring down into them, and his eyes- they’re that same shade of blue-teal-green, ebbing and flowing.

You feel the mass- large but soft- enter you, passing through his slimy appendage. You want to ask what’s happening to you, what he’s doing, but his hand is in your mouth again, and his eyes are so captivating all of a sudden and…

“Just a little more,” he assures you, and something in his voice sounds unnatural, synthetic, but something in your head feels primed to simply accept it. His hand runs through your hair. “You won’t feel a thing.”

Despite the promise, you do feel it. You feel another mass enter you, and another, unsure what they are except that they’re slippery and cool inside you. You shudder as one by one, the foreign intrusions begin to fill you, starting at a gentle pressure, and working their way up until your belly feels well and truly taut- only then does he pull out, leaving something gooey to drip between your legs and rub into the covers of his bunk. 

In the morning, you have a stomachache and a hangover, and all you can remember of the night previous is how Sonny brought you back to the bus and tucked you into his bunk. 

Weird guy, but he’s such a good friend to you.