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coffeebeancookiecrk · 3 years

Text

workaholic

request ; espresso x (gender neutral) reader smut warnings ; dom!espresso. cockwarming. overstimulation. desk-fucking. wc ; ~1k

════ nsfw warning 18+ ════

espresso’s dedication to perfecting his studies and work often caused him to overlook and neglect his own needs regardless of your protests. you always helped him when he did fall back into his unhealthy workaholic habits by making sure he was at least getting enough to eat and drink. today, however, you were feeling quite needy. you had woken up practically craving him after quite a sultry dream that left you aroused beyond belief. since nothing was able to satisfy your lust, you decided it was time for him to fulfill one of your needs instead.

he was in his same spot, as usual, sitting with perfect posture at his desk in his study, focused on scribbling something down in one of his notebooks. you squeezed your thighs together, feeling the surplus of heat cumulate in-between your legs from just the sight of your perfectionist lover. your mouth felt dry as you cleared your throat, announcing your arrival to him since he was too busy to even glance behind him. “what is it?” he questioned as you approached. you tried to get the words out, yet they felt stuck in your throat, and instead, you meekly let out a pathetic little whimper. thankfully, with just a single glance at your sorry state, he knew what you wanted - no, needed, from him. after a quick look at your face he chuckled before turning back to his work, “ah, i see. well, as much as i wish to give you what you seek, i am near a breakthrough and cannot bring my hands away from my work.” you let out a small whine upon hearing his refusal; however, he shook his head slowly, “now, now, none of that, i have not even finished speaking and you are complaining, always so impatient. now then, since i can see that waiting is not an answer in this equation, why not begin the process by warming up until i am finished with my work.”

with his free hand, he gestured towards himself while his other hand did not even pause from writing. with that confirmation you dropped to your knees and took the bottom of his robe into your flushed hands, pulling it up to expose his legs, thighs, and bulge that was pressing against the clothes underneath. your fingers hooked underneath the hem and you pulled the article of clothing down just enough for what you needed to pop out. you noticed that, for a split second, he stopped his writing to glance at you, but as your eyes met he went back to his work. now that he was exposed and already half-hard, you were ready to begin what he had vaguely suggested. wasting no time to strip your own clothes off, you straddle him, deciding to face toward the desk instead so that you could lean back against him comfortably. amazingly to you, he was still able to write while his view was blocked, albeit much slower than before. taking his cock in one hand, you spread your hole with the other before slowly sliding yourself down, bringing him inside your wet and warm walls. you shuddered upon feeling his length within you, already stiffening by the second. you rested your hands on the desk in front, one on either side of his paperwork, your nails slightly digging into the wood. once you became situated and stopped adjusting yourself, he rested his chin on your shoulder so he could see his work while you warmed his cock.

as time ticked on he became completely erect inside you while your hole twitched around him, squeezing him every now and again as if imploring him to move already. he brought his free hand down in-between your legs, playing with you by rolling and sliding his finger lazily in an up and down motion that completely caused your mind to cloud with arousal. you felt every single adjustment he made, and the slightest shifting of his cock made you squirm in his lap. the long wait was starting to become agonizing and, with your own liquids beginning to trickle down onto the chair below, you knew you were on the edge of coming. you began squirming far more than just when he moved as you just needed to feel something thrusting inside by now. you soon noticed his penmanship was becoming shaky - was it your movements or because he was getting close, too? on a few occasions, you’d hear his breath hitch in his throat or a small little grunt accompanied by him jerking his hips up into you ever so slightly. you couldn’t take it any longer: you began to beg him to just throw you over his desk and ram in and out of you so you could cum.

his chuckle caused a shiver down your spine. “i am always so incredibly busy between my work and your addiction to me. lucky for you, my paperwork is complete.” you watched as he calmly moved the paper and pen to the side. then, he pressed a hand against your upper back, pushing you face-first and flush against the desk. swiftly, his cock slid out of you without warning, leaving your hole twitching and aching for more as you whimpered in protest. “you lasted longer than i expected.” the chair squeaked behind you as he stood, a finger sliding around your gaping hole and collecting any liquids left behind, “and, as i calculated, we are both quite ready.” once again, with no warning, the tip began prodding at your entrance before he pressed inside you, bringing his body to lay on top of yours as he slid completely inside in one go. his hips bucked while you felt a shock of pleasure as he pressed balls-deep inside you while he kissed your temple before thrusting again. you were loud, moaning out everything from his name, expletives, to gibberish, each thrust forcing his throbbing cock so far inside that your mind became blank. he was usually the silent type and instead would rather listen and watch you, getting off from your pleasurable reactions alone.

neither you nor he was going to last long, especially with your own liquids beginning to dribble onto the desk and his precum leaking inside of you. you pressed your forehead against the desk and clenched your teeth as his speed increased and he brought a hand around to play with you. after one particularly hard thrust that left your legs shaking you felt your body relax completely against the desk as you came. your mind blanked as shockwaves of pleasure rolled over you, barely registering his own heavy breathing accompanied by a soft smacking sound while he continued to thrust into you. he pressed his face against the back of your head, desperately trying to keep himself composed yet failing as he couldn't control his quick panting. suddenly, his grip on your waist tightened, and, with one final thrust and the softest gasp ever, he finished within you; continuing to thrust until every last drop was inside of you.

you wouldn’t have even noticed him pulling out if you hadn’t gotten so used to his cock being inside you. a little moan left your lips when you felt his fingers spread you open so that he could watch his own liquids dribble slowly out of you and pool onto the floor below. with a satisfied, “hmph,” he patted your ass, pleased with the results, “looks like all my work is finished for tonight.”

#espresso cookie #crk smut #crk x reader #crk #cookie run #cookie run x gn reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #espresso crk #espresso cookie smut #espresso smut #cookie run kingdom x reader #bean.writes

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wandsandwheezes · 4 years

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Jealousy | G.W

Warnings // 2.6k // 18+ SMUT, jealousy, sex, gagging, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, use of pet names, bratty behaviour, dom/sub vibes, aftercare.

A/N // Hi the first smut of the year and it encompasses everythingI want from george weasley <3

The thing that made George Weasley tick the most was people eyeing up his girl. It got him riled up beyond belief, but the ever proud man he is, he would never admit to getting jealous over it. He'd simply let the jealousy get bottled up until it burst. For the most part you ignored the male attention you got, choosing to pretend that you simply didn’t see the lingering stares while nevertheless enjoying the way your boyfriend’s grip tightened around your waist or how he’d stalk over and pull you into an electrifying kiss. His actions quickly told you exactly how he felt about other men’s eyes drinking you in, you were his to devour and his only, so to say that you didn't play into that only the slightest bit is a lie.

You didn’t mind lending a hand in the shop on the weekend, especially when it meant being able to spend more time ogling your lover and the way his muscles tensed as he picked up boxes, how his smile would flash as his inner child came out with all the demos, how easy it was to sneak a kiss in his office and most notably how lovely it was to share lingering glances across the shop as you worked on the tills. George liked having you around because every part of him wanted you close to him, that was why it twisted the knife that little bit more when he saw you lean over the counter just a small amount, giving the man you were serving a view of your perfect chest that his eyes had been locked onto.

The action alone had him clenching his fists together, the vein in his neck popping out as he felt that bubbling jealousy reaching its capacity. Part of him had forgotten that he was holding onto some of the products he had been adjusting on the shelves, counting himself lucky that he hadn’t broken the glass bottles in his hand. He was next to you as soon as you were waving the customer goodbye, mumbling under his breath as he signed you off the till, inputting his own till code to deal with an admin task. “What the fuck was that all about, doll?”

“Sue me for me wanting to make a sale, baby” You smiled, resting your head against his bicep as you waited for him to finish up with his task, dainty hand snaking around his back to hook your fingertips gently through his belt loops. He was finding himself in heaven just by being able to breathe in your perfume.

“Those goods aren’t for sale.” He laughed, a smile hiding the sheer amount of boiling jealousy that was stirring inside of him, he raised his eyebrows and made sure to get a good look of what you had on show, wanting nothing more than to rip open your shirt, so he could see the bare tits that he loved in full view of the afternoon rush.

“Funny one George” you smirked, hand dropping from being slinked around his hips, a hand that he quickly catches, pulling you so that your chest is pressed directly against his, causing a small gasp to fall from your lips at the impact, looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile before pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, a direct contrast to the callous words whispered low enough for only you to hear. “I’m fucking serious, you’re mine.”

You knew that if he had said those words in the comfort of your own home his voice would have been several octaves deeper than his usual conversation’s tone, cut thick full of seduction as he tugged your shirt off of you, but here he had to keep himself restrained, on the low. He would bend you over the counter right now if it weren’t for the shop full of people; it wasn’t unfamiliar territory to be bent over something as George had his way. Lucky for you though, today you could be as bratty as you wanted, he would have to keep himself under wraps until you were alone.

George had sulked off in his office, causing you to follow the man you were intent on annoying all around the shop like the needy girl that you were until he gave in, trapping you between his body and a shelf of potions, careful not to push to hard in fear of drawing attention to himself. You opened your mouth to protest, only to be met with his pointer finger to your lips.

"Is this what you want, to be my little whore begging for me with her eyes?" he tutted as his lips pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck just below your ear, sucking a mark that would be visible to everyone causing a tiny little desperate moan to fall from your lips.

"You like having eyes on you though don't you? In your short little skirt and a pathetic excuse for a shirt… you're just daring me to bend you over something." He mumbled against your ear as his hand was on your breast, thumb and forefinger toying with the hardened nipple through the material of your shirt and bra.

"Baby, I don't know what you're talking abou-" You bat your lashes at your boyfriend, trying your best to act coyly at the situation, ignoring the feeling that his large hands on your chest was giving you. Trying to look away, the fear of being caught in a compromising position with George all too much to bear.

“No talking back, brat.” His hand quickly moved, now on your jaw as he forced you to look at him before crashing his lips down on yours in a fevered kiss. Hs leg had slipped between yours, knee nudging your thighs apart before giving you something to grind down on. It was one of his favourite sights, watching you desperately rut against his thigh as you got yourself off for him.

“George what if someone-” You moaned breathlessly as his hands guided the slow and teasing pace you were allowed to move your hips, It felt so good you were trying not to moan the whole shop down.

“I already said no talking back.” He growled at you, feeling the cool sensation of his rings as his hand pressed against your throat, he wasn't choking you yet, only giving your windpipe a simple squeeze as a warning sign that he was on the edge of his tether.

Fred had yelled his brother's name, as he reached the top step, searching for George around the top balcony floor. The action made your boyfriend look away frustrated as he bit the inside of his cheek. Grumbling a low, 'upstairs, now' before storming away from you, leaving you breathless.

You did as he said, waiting for him excitedly for the first 15 minutes, after 40 minutes had ticked by you grew frustrated with him, after another 15 you were ready to start teasing him again, standing bent over the kitchen counter as you text him.

<< Leaving me all desperate are you, Georgie? x

<< My fingers can't even do yours justice x

<< Bet that guy from earlier would have taken care of me x

>> Don't push your luck, kitten x

Your last text to him was enough to make him leave the stupid task that Fred had left him to do, practically storming up the stairs as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door. You hadn't even realised that George was behind you until your phone was snatched from your hands, his strong grip holding you firmly against the counter, his fingers lacing through your hair, taking a handful to grab at.

"You are such a fucking Brat, I can't even do nice things for you without the attitude." You moaned as he gave a rough tug at your hair, his hips bucking into yours in an attempt to relive some of the tension in his own trousers but to no avail, he only grew harder at your babbling moans and begs for him.

"You're begging now but you've been such a bad girl, I don't think I should really touch you at all, I may just have to use your mouth instead." You nodded, not even sure what you were agreeing too, too blinkered by wanting to have him please you that you'd do anything. He knew your limits, you knew your safe word so you knew you were safe.

He had tried to restrain himself but before you knew it you had been thrown over his shoulder, hand giving your ass a playful slap as he walked you towards the bedroom, the sound of your giggles a pure symphony to his ears as they rang about the flat.

There was no dignity in the way he had thrown you on the bed, ripped open your shirt and hitched up your skirt over your hips. Not even caring to take off your underwear, only slipping it to the side to have his fingers buried deep inside you, at first he was slow and teasing as he stretched you out with his fingers alone hut as you began to clench around him, he picked up the pace, bringing you all the way to the very edge of your release before pulling his hand away, sucking your juices off his fingers with a chuckle.

“You think you were clever did you? Bad girls don’t get to cum, not until I say so." He hummed, tapping at your clit with his wet fingers before he leans down so that his head is between your thighs, blowing cool air over your exposed heat, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

"On your knees." His voice was thick, cut sharp and letting you know that he wasn't messing around, he waited for you to be on your knees in front of him, letting you deal with unbuckling his belt to pull him free. His hands were already holding back your hair, helping guide his length down your throat as soon as it was past your lips. The sound of you gagging as he hit the back of you made his cock twitch, a single tear running down your cheek as you hummed against him, a tear that he wiped away with his thumb, smiling down lovingly at you.

"Just one tear for me, Princess? I want your makeup ruined, I know you do too." You nodded at his words, taking him further down your throat until the tears started to spill. You loved it, the way he would use your mouth, it wouldn't take him long till he took control of fucking your throat. His hand pulled your mouth from his cock, spitting in his hand to wrap around his length, mixing your saliva together before he was thrust back into your mouth, setting a relentless pace, hearing your gags as he hit the back of your throat.

"Look at those pretty tears, baby… I'm in two minds to have you cum over and over for me just to keep those tears spilling." His thumb ran over your lip, pulling you up by your jaw so that he could kiss you, the kiss was soft, almost checking in to see you were okay and still with him.

He had you lying on the bed as he rid himself of his clothes, first the tie, which was shoved into your mouth. This was a sight he would never get over, an innocent look plastered in your eyes as he lined himself up, sinking deep inside you quickly. You fit like a glove with him, stretching out perfectly to accommodate every single inch he had to give you and it felt magnificent. He was still but his thumb circled your clit in such a perfect way that he had you coming undone in minutes, that was number one.

Number two was given to you in slow purposeful thrusts as he moaned out for you, not caring who could hear his guttural grunts. All you could do was hum back as a response, wanting to moan for him and only him. The third time he had you releasing so quickly just from his rough pace, he'd pulled his tie from your mouth to kiss you, swallowing every single moan like his life was dependent on it.

"Godric I love your tight cunt. I stretch you out so good, don't I princess? Show me, where you feel me, doll." The fourth had you shaking, he was fucking you so deeply, pulling out completely and sinking back in to the hilt. Your hand grabbed his shakily, pressing it hard against your abdomen, he could literally feel the tip of his cock hitting his hand and he chucked, hooking your legs over his shoulders.

"That's pretty deep, baby, I bet I could fuck you deeper." His words and the feeling of his whole length fucking through you had you over the moon. You weren't sure if you were begging him for more or to stop, it was pain and pleasure mixed together like the perfect shot of ecstasy. The tears were falling down your cheeks like you'd been caught in the rain, but George thought you looked stunning.

"Think you could handle another, brat? Let me lick your cunt nice and clean." Your body told you to stop but your mouth was begging for it, craving a new release by his skilled mouth. You didn't want to deprive yourself of his perfect tongue. Each lick and suck had you screaming for him, your sensitive and used cunt close to release again and this time it was heaven, your thighs quaking as it released over you. You were well and truly overstimulated.

"Good Girl, such a good baby. I'm so proud of you for taking all five, doll." He praised, pressing kisses all over your makeup-ruined cheeks while his hands rubbed gently over your sides. He made sure to get you nice and cleaned up, changing you into his warmest hoodie and some pyjama bottoms, scraping your hair up into a bun and pulling on some fluffy socks.

He changed into his own pyjama bottoms, staying shirtless before picking you up, your legs wrapped around his torso as he walked to the kitchen, laying you down on the sofa, leaving you to come down from from your state of bliss as he made light work of cooking your dinner. He truly was the perfect boyfriend.

"Georgie?" you called out to him, seeing him turn around, immediately dropping what he was cutting up to tend to you.

"Hi princess, welcome back… how're you feeling." He smiled, thumb running over your cheek as he cupped your jaw.

"I love you, George, You're amazing." You hummed, pulling him in for a delicate kiss

"I love you more, baby girl… I wasn't too rough?" He asked, forehead pressed against yours, to which you shook your head tracing light circles on his chest.

"Good girl, I hope you're hungry… I'm making your favourite." You smiled, letting him hoist you up, taking you over to sit on the counter as you watched him.

You smiled dumbfounded by his sweetness, thinking to yourself, 'I'm gonna marry this man.' because George was everything, real true husband material.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #George Weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #fred and george #weasley twins smut #weasley twins #gred and forge #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #Harry potter

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minshookie · 3 years

Text

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

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xxbangchansidedishxx · 3 years

Text

Chan’s Room- Chan X Felix.

Tw~ Degrading, Rough sex, Spanking, Exhibition???

Plot: Chan has a special guest for this episode of Chan’s room. But things didn’t go quite as planned.

Note; please send requests❤️

"Hello stayyy." He smiled as he looked into the camera. His body slightly hunched over hiding one of the members.

"We have a special guest on today's episode of Chan's room!"

Felix popped up from his hidden position with a cute little smile on his face.

"Aussie Aussie Aussie!"

The two giggled and began to interact with their fans.

"So what song recommendations do you guys have today?'

~comment: Love talk-wayv.

"How about that one channie?"

Felix questioned reading out the comment.

Chan had been avoiding playing this song for months and Felix knew exactly why.

The song was suggestive to say the least, but there was no getting out of it now.

"I - uh yeah okay."

The music began to play from the speakers and Felix started to dance around in his seat.

The younger Australian ran his hands through his hair biting his lip to match the vibe of the song.

He smirked as from the corner of his eye he saw Chan gulp and flush red.

"It's hot in here isn't it? Look you've gone all red."

Felix proceeded to take off his jumper to reveal a thin tight black shirt underneath. He knew exactly what he was doing to the elder and he was having fun with it.

"You know if you are hot you could just take off your jumper?"

He knew that wasn't possible since Chan didn't wear shirts underneath.

The song came to a stop and the two continued to interact with stays.

~comment: Chan how have you been?

"I've been doing good actually. The other day me and Lix-"

He was cut off from his sentence when he felt a hand squeeze his thigh.

He shot a warning glance at his friend and continued his sentence.

"The other day me and Lix went out for food with Jackson from Got7. Yeah and it was really nice."

~comment: what did you order?

Felix read out the comment as he trailed his hand further up Chan's thigh, it was now running dangerously close to his growing erection.

"I uhh I ordered a burger and Felix had s-steak."

His voice cracked and he stuttered as Felix was now palming him through his trousers.

The sight of the elder man so desperate to come undone but trying so hard to keep what was happening a secret was turning Felix on beyond belief.

A small whimper left Chan's lips causing Felix's eyes to shoot wide open. He acted as if he had no idea what was happening and he read out a comment.

~comment: Chan are you okay?

"I- yeah I'm fine. I just remembered I have to end the live a little early today. We have schedule and I completely forgot."

Carefully not to give themselves away Chan brushed Felix's hand off his crotch and stood up to hug the camera.

"Thank you for spending your evening with me, goodbye stays goodbye baby stays."

The two waved goodbye to the camera before finishing up.

Felix was pushed against the sofa.

"Oh you are gonna pay for what you did back there baby boy."

Chan growled into his ear, attaching his lips to the youngers neck, wasting no time to cover him in hickys.

"Mmmh I'm sorry daddy."

Chan began to rip their clothes off until they were separated by nothing but the thin material of their boxers.

He attacked Felix's lips exploring his mouth roughly with his tongue as he grinded his hips against the boy Beneath him.

"Such a naughty little slut for daddy aren't you?"

All Felix could do was moan in response.

"Awe my little fuck toy is lost for words."

Chan just chuckled and leaned down to tease the boys sensitive nipples with his tongue, lapping at it slowly before moving onto the other and nibbling at it causing Felix to Yelp.

"What were you thinking trying to get me off infront of stay hm?"

Before he could get a response he leaned down to roughly kiss him again. Teasingly his fingers circled the boys nipples which were wet with salava before flicking them mercilessly while Felix whined into his mouth.

The younger was desperate, his cock ached for release from the tight restraints of his boxers and Chan could tell.

He slowly pulled them down Felix's legs admiring his cock as it sprung free.

A pink blush flushed over the bottoms cheeks.

"P-please touch me daddy." He bit his lip in anticipation.

"Shh baby, you've been naughty and naughty boys get punished, turn around."

The younger gulped as he obeyed his orders.

A loud gasp left his lips as he felt Chan's hand come into contact with his ass creating a loud smack sound and a sting.

"I want you to count for me. Take your punishment like a good little boy and then I'll reward you."

His hand smacks against Felix's ass again

"Mmh fuck o-one."

He cried out the pain making his eyes water and his leaking cock rut up against the leather of the sofa.

"T-two."

Chan's hand caressed the youngers ass, each smack getting harder leaving red stinging marks.

It felt like the punishment was going on for ages and Felix was a stuttering mess.

"Ouch mmh f-fifty."

He panted catching his breath.

"You did so well baby boy."

Chan flipped the boy over and helped him onto his knees before removing his own boxers and rubbing his dick against the boys lips.

"Suck." He demanded.

The elder threw his head back and let out a groan as Felix gave soft kitten licks to the tip, lapping at his slit before sucking slowly at it and taking it down his throat. His tongue traced the bulging veins in his cock and he hummed around him in pleasure causing it to twitch.

"Fuck, your mouth is so wet baby. I'm gonna cum."

He pulled his cock from the youngers mouth and positioned himself behind him.

"P-please."

Felix tried to press his ass against Chan's cock but he moved away teasingly.

"How pathetic. I wonder what stay would say if they saw you here begging for my cock like a little whore."

He growled grabbing a fistful of Felix's hair to pull his head to kiss him messily.

He looked at the boys face. Lips swollen cheeks flushed red, eyes narrow and begging for more.

He began to rub the tip of his cock against the youngers ass slowly to tease him.

"Daddy please need your cock." He whined.

That's when Chan slammed into the boy causing him to let out a low groan as Felix cried out with pain and pleasure.

"So fucking tight baby, your ass feels so good around my cock."

He rocked at a steady pace hitting the boys prostate with each thrust.

The sound of skin against skin and whimpers filled the room.

"F faster please."

Felix could barely speak at this point.

"Awe my little cumslut wants more hm? You take my cock so fucking well baby."

He picked up his pace, roughly slamming in and out of his tight hole.

His hand held tightly onto Felix's throat applying just enough pressure to drive him crazy.

The bottom blabbered in pleasure.

"Mmh Ugh I- fuck uh I'm gonna cum mghh."

Felix shot his load making a mess all over himself as his ass clenched around Chan's cock causing him to release inside the boy.

The two panted, riding out there highs before Chan pulled out admiring the cum dripping out of the boys ass.

"You look so fucked out and pretty baby."

Felix blushed harder as Chan spread his legs wide and licked at the cum leaking from his hole. His tongue circled around the pulsing entrance, lapping up the mess he had made before he went up to kiss Felix on the lips.

"That was amazing Channie."

Felix cuddled into the mans side feeling content until he saw something from the corner of his eye.

His eyes immediately widened and he sat up grabbing a cushion to cover himself with.

"Lix what's wrong?"

Chan's voice was full of concern.

"Look at your phone..."

Chan walked over to his phone and his mouth dropped open as he saw it.

Comments. Thousands and thousands of comments.

~comment: umm what???

~comment: fuck this is so hot.

~Comment: oh god I can't take this.

~comment: they're literally... I- I'm not complaining.

He forgot to end the live.

Thousands of people had just seen him railing his band member.

He chuckled nervously.

"Oh haha Um hi stay. I guess I didn't end the vlive properly. Well I- Yeah."

Felix burned red with embarrassment as Chan just dug the hole even deeper trying to figure out what he could say to get them out of this mess.

"Well I guess me and Lix are gonna go now. Goodbye stay. Goodbye baby stay."

Despite the awkwardness and embarrassment he felt Chan still ended the live with a hug. One hand covering his cock and the other wrapping around the camera, his abs in full view of the camera.

This time he made sure to end the live properly.

"Chan it's all over Twitter."

Felix groaned covering his face.

Chan just walked over to him embracing him in a hug.

"As awful as this whole situation was... it's kinda hot tho don't you think?"

He smirked at the younger who blushed and shyly agreed.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay. But I suppose we better get dressed and arrange a meeting with JYP and the boys."

The two cleaned up their mess before preparing to face their band members.

#skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #chanlix #chanlix smut #smut #fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #bxb

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spenciegoob · 4 years

Text

Triple Edged Sword Part 1

A/N: Hi ! This is going to be a 3 part mini series and oml I AM SO EXCITED. I haven’t written for 6 years so the updates are most definitely going to be generously spaced out. Anyways let’s get into it.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut.. so smutty, and a dash of fluff

Content Warning: sub!spencer, domfem!reader masturbation (female), penetrative sex, hand job, scratching, hair pulling, slapping

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Two | Part Three

____

When Spencer Reid looked at her, his eyes were so kind and filled with so much love for someone that had so much pain behind them. He never thought it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her. His puppy dog eyes served as a reminder to both of them of just how innocent the doctor was.

Spencer hated it. Being the brunt of Derek’s virgin jokes made him want to scream from the rooftops, or a little more civilized, tell him he had a girlfriend.

His girlfriend, however, she loved his curious eyes. The way his pupils would dilate when he looked at every inch of her or his eyes would almost double in size whenever she stripped in front of him.

It was absolutely infatuating.

Every time Spencer looked at her, it was like the first time. He couldn’t get enough, and through time he found something else he loved about her body each time he saw it.

He had his doubts for sure, his insecurities sneaking up on him late in the night after she leaves his arms and goes home, but as time progressed, his doubts faded into nothing more than a distant memory when it came to her.

She held the world in her hands, but instead of being selfish and keeping it all for herself, she shared it with him.

Like right now, as she pushed him back until his knees hit the bed and he fell onto the soft cushion with a slight bounce. Already, Spencer was growing hard with anticipation.

“You’ve been a very bad boy today, Spencer.” Even as she scolded him (in the hottest way, may Spencer add), he still looked up at her with the adoration that made it almost impossible to punish him.

Almost impossible.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Please.” What Spencer was pleading for? Not even he knew, but his right hand going to touch her waist gave both of them some idea.

The involuntary act was just as quickly shut down as it started as she backed away and tutted at him.

“Ah, ah, ah Spencer, that is not how we ask for things.” The faux disappointment on her face only made the pleading look on his deepen.

“I’m sorry, miss, it won’t happen again.”

His apology and admission got him the pleasure of her stepping between his parting legs. Spencer didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was as if his body knew how to react to her trance faster than his brain could process.

She softly grasped his jaw, tilting his head back so he had no choice but to make eye contact with her intimidating stare. A soft whimper escaped his lips at even the smallest physical contact. Her touch was electrifying, and he simply couldn’t get enough.

“What am I going to do with you?” Her hand slowly left his jaw, meeting the other one at the top button on his work shirt. Her gaze still bore into him as her fingers worked swiftly to remove his shirt.

That’s what it was about her that intrigued him beyond belief. Every move she made was calculated, meticulous in and out of the bedroom. Maybe that was his reason for looking at her with so much infatuation.

Once Spencer’s shirt was completely unbuttoned, she gave him a form of release when she broke eye contact to stare at his now bare chest. Her eyes scanned every inch of exposed skin.

She loved his body. His frame a sculpture that would put famed artists to shame. Her favorite part, however, was when she dragged her fingernails down his torso.

Starting at his jugular, she lightly scratched all the way down to the waistband of his slacks that were becoming tighter right before her eyes.

She couldn’t focus on that, however. Her focus was on the small red lines that she left in her wake as she softly clawed at his chest. Spencer marked so easy that she couldn’t stop herself from giving him a new one every chance she got.

She didn't need Spencer’s eidetic memory to know what the scene in front of her looked like. His muscles tense under her nails, a new one each time she inched further down. If she closed her eyes, the feeling could serve as her sight like their own special brail.

But she couldn’t close her eyes, not when she got to stare at those lines.

When she finally reached the end of her journey, she pulled her hand away causing Spencer to let out a whiny moan. The sound was music to her ears, and it almost made her give into him right then and there.

Almost made her give in.

“Not yet, baby boy. You haven’t even gotten your punishment for tonight.” This made Spencer let out another hushed whimper.

“Please Y/N, I need you.” Again, Spencer reached his hand to her waist, but this time, he made contact.

He expected her to grab his jaw like last time, or even pull away from his grasp, but to his surprise, she did neither.

It wasn’t until Spencer opened his hooded eyes completely to look at her face did she move.

No, not move; pounce.

The second his eyes met hers, she forcefully gripped the hair on the back of his head and yanked back hard.

The sudden contact caused Spencer’s eyes to roll back, and a pathetic moan to leave his mouth that was permanently wide open.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked through gritted teeth. Even she surprised herself at the sudden dominance, but with Spencer in front of her with barely open eyes and an eager mouth, god did she love it. And apparently so did he, but at the same time, only one thought clouded his mind.

He was fucked. So utterly fucked.

“I-.. I-” At his stuttering, she quickly released his hair with the softest push, only to bring that same palm to the side of his face.

The loud SMACK! replayed over and over in his head as his hips bucked up involuntary.

Oh.

He liked this more than she thought. Sure, they’ve been a little rough in bed before, their roles always the same. She was there to be pleased, and Spencer was there to please, but she didn’t know how far that line went.

Spencer on the other hand was turned on more than he had ever been. His cock so painfully hard under the constrictions of his work slacks that if he didn’t get some relief soon, he may burst into tears.

Spencer was still facing the left, his eyes closed and trying to control his heavy breathing. That didn’t pass in her book.

She grabbed his jaw again, this time with much more force, and brought their faces inches apart.

“I want you on your knees at the foot of the bed. Do not take your eyes off the wall in front of you, and don’t even think about touching yourself. Sit on your god damn hands if you have to. Do you understand me?” Her words came out so smooth, the calm before the storm.

Spencer nodded his head in response, but when the grip on his jaw tightened, he squeaked out “Yes ma’am.”

She released him, and immediately Spencer was on the move, crawling to where he was instructed to go. She watched closely, making sure he followed her directions to a T.

As his eyes settled on the wall the headboard rested against, she smiled and called out.

“Good boy.” The name made Spencer’s heart flutter and his cock twitch. Now with nothing more to focus on than the wall in front of him did he start to really feel the effects of his neediness.

Whatever she did next would be the death of him.

And boy, was he right!

Out of his peripherals, Spencer could see her start to undress herself. Her eyes only left his for a second to pull her shirt over her head, but Spencer didn’t dare use that split second to take a peak. He was already in enough pain shit to last him a lifetime.

But then she turned around, and he can barely hear the sound of her jeans being unzipped over the blood rushing through his ears.

‘Oh god, Spencer. Whatever you do, do not look,’ he thought to himself, and continuously repeated as she pulled her jeans down slowly. Bending down all the way, her ass on full display, Spencer could see that she was wearing her dark purple lacy thong.

His favorite.

She wasn’t even facing him. How could she possibly tell if he snuck a glance in her direction. It would be over in a second, like ripping off a band-aid, like pulling the trig-

‘No, she’ll know don’t do it.” Spencer’s thoughts were correct. If he were to look, she would turn around to find him blushing a deep shade of red that spread from his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes fully blown. So, with all of his strength and by the force of God, he kept his eyes firmly on the wall. It never looked so dull until right now.

As she slowly came back to a standing position, she turned over her shoulder to see Spencer demonstrating the most self control she’s ever seen. A proud smirk spread across her face, and she finally stalked her way over to the bed slowly.

Spencer felt his palms start to get sweaty from nerves, excitement, arousal and desperation as her body came closer to his direct line of sight. His breathing had become heavy again, and his cock twitched painfully.

When Spencer had his gun drawn on unsubs, he got tunnel vision, but right now when he needed it, that ability seemed to disappear into thin air.

What a cruel magic trick.

Once she was settled with her back resting against the headboard did she speak.

“You can look now, baby boy.” The sight in front of him almost made him come undone right then and there.

Almost made him.

She was sitting up, her arms on either side of her body, her knees were bent, and her legs were wide open. Spencer could see the wet patch from her gathering arousal on her panties, and involuntarily licked his lips.

“Your punishment is the following,” she started as she slowly hooked her fingers under the waistband of her panties. Lifting her hips to start to shimmy them down her legs, she continued, “You’re going to sit there real pretty for me, and you’re going to watch me pleasure myself. You’re not going to look away, close your eyes and most definitely you are not going to touch yourself. Am I making myself clear?”

He was not going to make that mistake again, so instead of nodding he immediately replied with, “Yes ma’am.”

She balled her discarded panties in her hand, and sat up from the incriminating position. As she shimmied her way over to Spencer on her knees, he gulped in anticipation.

“Open up, baby boy.” If she called him that, he would do anything she ever asked him to.

Spencer opened his mouth and slightly stuck his tongue out with a small idea of what was going to come next.

Even with the knowledge of her next move, when the lace of her panties hit his tongue, he couldn’t stop the groan that left him at the contact.

“Don’t wanna hear from you no matter how pretty those sounds are,” she seduced as she stroked his cheek.

Once he was now settled with the makeshift gag and clouded mind, she returned to her compromising position, her pussy on full display for Spencer’s ogling.

She started by softly grasping one of her breasts over the thin lace bra. Her head rolled back at the new sensation, a breathy sigh leaving her parted lips. She kneaded the flesh before added her other hand, squeezing both before pushing them together.

Spencer could only watch in awe as she played with herself the way he wish he could right now. The small whimpers leaving his body were muffled thanks to the gag, and she couldn’t hear them over her own heavy breathing.

When she reached her hands behind her back, and unclasped the bra, Spencer had to forcefully sit on his hands to stop himself from touching either one of them.

She was a goddess on full display, her body had to have been sculpted by the Gods above because no one had the right to be so perfect.

Nobody but her.

The same way she had done to Spencer in what felt like centuries ago, she ran her nails down her torso, only this time she didn’t stop. Her fingers slowly met her aching core, and a moan slipped from her lips at the contact.

She kept her touch featherlight, just enough to gather her arousal on her fingertips. She brought her hand back up to her clit and added more pressure as she circled it slowly.

The soft moans leaving her body were enough for Spencer, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the sight in front of him even if he was allowed to. Her pussy was glistening under the soft light from the bedside lamp, her hair was messily sprawled out around her like a halo, and her body had started to get a light sheen of sweat.

After another minute of teasing her clit, she finally stuck two fingers in her core, her back arching off the bed and letting out the loudest, filthiest moan yet as she did.

“Fuck, baby. It feels so good.” She looked to Spencer to gage his reaction, and found him bright red and hyper focused on where her fingers met her pussy.

Satisfied, she started to slowly pump her fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit her sweet spot each time. Her stomach started to tighten, her impending orgasm arriving faster than usual.

Spencer was a whiny, horny mess on the other side of the bed. He was so painfully hard, and he was sure if he looked, there would be a spot on his boxers from his pre-cum.

Her fingers starting to pump faster, and her other hand gave her breast one last squeeze before traveling down to meet her clit. She rubbed harsh circles in time with her fingers and threw her head back in pleasure as she did so.

“Oh god, I’m gonna- fuck I’m gonna come,” she breathily called out. Her moans getting louder by the second, the coil in her stomach finally snapped.

“Spencer! Oh god!” She screamed as her back arched off the bed, and she came around her fingers. Her finger rubbing circles on her clit started to slow down as her loud moaning turned to heavy breathing.

Spencer’s eyes were almost black as he stared down at her. When she came undone, it was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

Once her muscles stopped spasming, she relaxed her body and finally looked back at Spencer.

“You did so well, baby boy.” The praise made Spencer’s knees even more weak. Slowly, she crawled her way over to him and removed the panties from his mouth. He tried his best to control his breathing, but each exhale came out jagged and broken.

“Can I touch you now?” He asked timidly and this only made her smile.

“Yes, baby boy. You can to-” She didn’t get to finish her sentence because the second the word yes left her mouth, Spencer’s lips were on hers.

The kiss was sloppy and uncalculated, but there was so much passion and love behind every movement. When she grasped the waistband of his slacks and pulled his clothed body against her naked one, Spencer let out a gasp that allowed her to stick her tongue in his mouth.

She explored every inch of his mouth with hers and he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into her trance.

When she pulled away, biting his bottom lip and pulling it back slightly with her, Spencer let out a whine.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said as she pushed his unbuttoned shirt down his arms. Once that was off, she worked on his belt, pulling it out of the loops and throwing it to the floor impatiently.

Once his pants were unbuttoned, she wasted no time reaching in and grasping his cock.

Spencer let out a pornographic moan at the sensation, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

“What do you want, baby boy,” she asked as she continued her ministrations, slowly pumping her hand up and down. Panting now, Spencer did his best to answer.

“Y-you.. Y/N. I want you,” Spencer whined as he started to pat her arm that was in his pants. He looked back down at her with so much desperation and lust, there was no almost this time.

She gave in.

“Only because you’ve been such a good boy for me.” The praise caused Spencer to whimper, and she finally pulled his trousers and boxers down. His cock sprang free, and hit his stomach proudly. The tip was beet red and pre-cum was slowly dripping down the side. It looked painfully delicious.

“Lay down on you back, baby.” Spencer did as told, his head hitting the pillows and he fisted the sheets.

She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. When she grabbed the base of his cock, Spencer winced and his hands shot up to grasp her hips. She didn’t stop him this time. She ran his tip through her folds teasing him, the evidence of her previous orgasm spreading around it.

Slowly, she sank down, both of them throwing their heads back and moaning at the sensation. She didn’t stop until she was at the hilt, him fully sheathed in her. She took a minute to adjust before lifting her hips excruciatingly slow.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” When all that was left was the tip inside her, she slammed her hips back down. Spencer groaned, his grip on her hips tightening.

Her slow pace continued, teasing him just enough to get him to pat her hips again like he did earlier.

“Please Y/N, please faster.” How could she say no to that tone of voice?

She started to move her hips with feverish intent, both of their stomachs tightening as they slowly ran towards the edge together.

Spencer didn’t know where to look. He could watch the way his cock disappeared into her tight cunt, or the way her breasts bounced in his face in time with her hips, or her blissed out face, mouth wide open and eyes hooded.

All of it brought him closer and closer to the edge.

“F-fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna.. I’m gonna...”

“Me too, baby. Come for me.” With her permission, his hips thrust up to meet hers as he shoots his cum deep in her. The sensation was the final push, and she followed immediately after, milking him of everything he could give.

She collapsed on his sweaty chest, both of them heavy panting, but neither willing to move.

“I love you so much.” She said it so simply, but still it made Spencer’s heart flutter. They’ve said it so many times, but every time he still got giddy.

“I love you too,” he said and kissed the top of her head. They could’ve fallen asleep just like that, because it didn’t matter how sticky with sweat their body was, or the very compromising position they were still in.

They were in each other’s arms, and that was everything for both of them.

____

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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You found me - Loki Laufeyson smut

The one where you’re on your period.

Warnings: period sex, oral sex (f), p in v, breeding kink, praise kink

Word count: 3.5K

A/N: Day 7 of kinktober and this one is coming out unrevised because I’m fucking tired and I don’t have a beta. The prompts were praise kink and period sex. Also, Loki is nasty and if you’re squirmy about the subject of blood in sex, you probably shouldn’t read this.

Loki’s P.O.V.

I’d watched the sweet human grow more agitated with each passing day. Upon my arrival at the tower, she immediately caught my eye, not only because of her indisputable beauty, but mostly due to how charming and approachable she was even to me, someone barely considered bearable by most of the other inhabitants of the building.

And still, she didn’t seem to care. Not that the others, her friends, didn’t like if she so much as stood closer to me, and not that I had once tried to destroy her entire planet. “You’re not your mistakes, Loki,” she’d answered when I inquired, at last beaten by my own curiosity. “To me, you have a clean slate. You’ve been nothing but polite and courteous to me since you arrived. I don’t have any reason to continuously mistreat you for crimes you’ve already been acquitted for or that you’ve already suffered for.”

She truly was a mystery to me, her kindness so unusual to my being that I couldn’t help but to drink it in as much as possible, looking for her whenever I didn’t have anything else to do, which was constantly. So when she started to change, despite the small nature of the differences, it all seemed that clearer to me.

It started with her bursting into tears in the middle of breakfast when my bull of a brother accidentally bumped into her, making her drop the cup of tea in her hands. Everyone was startled by the sight, much more than by the porcelain breaking, concerned that she had somehow managed to hurt herself, but after a while, she rubbed her eyes, clearing them of tears before dismissing our preoccupations with a wave of her hand.

“‘M sorry, I’m just sensitive today. I felt guilty over breaking something, God, I’m such a klutz.” No one even had the time to note that it hadn’t been her fault or that the tin man had more than enough money to buy thousands of cups just like the one now destroyed, because she was out of the kitchen in a hurry, taking the light of the morning with her.

Or at least, that’s what it seemed like to me.

Then, the next day, she didn’t appear for breakfast at all. I knocked on her bedroom’s door to find her still lying down, completely wrapped up in her covers, a look of pain in her face. “What’s wrong, my sweet?” I asked, immediately running towards her to check for any sort of bruises, but she simply waved me away.

“‘S just cramps, Loki. Don’t worry about it. I got a heating pad over my belly, I should be down in a minute.” I actually found myself pouting, unconvinced and still worried about who I considered to be my only friend, but when she smiled softly at me, nodding to assure me of her safety, I decided to grant her the space she apparently needed.

It did not mean I wasn’t still concerned.

Then the third day came and with it, an unexpected outburst that consisted of her screaming at that new Barnes guy for being so “awful” to me when he was the person who should understand what I’d been through the most.

Overall, I was definitely very confused about seeing her that angry. She wasn’t the kind of person to lose her head like that. But my confusion was easily surpassed by how touched I was by her demonstration of loyalty.

It had also left me incredibly aroused, and once again I had to resort to taking care of myself before going to sleep, but that is something I was trying very hard to ignore, in order not to scare her away.

But then, the fourth day came, and with it, the most puzzling display of foreign emotions I’d ever seen on her so far. It started with her avoiding me for the better part of the day, before jumping three feet in the air when I managed to find her in the kitchen after everyone had gone out for drinks.

“Y-your fingers are cold,” she explained, but I’d always been cold and she’d never once seemed to have any sort of particular reaction to the temperature of my skin before. “Everyone’s gone, I think I’m gonna call it an early night.”

I wrapped my (cold) fingers around her wrist before she could run away from me. “I was hoping we could take advantage of their absence and watch that movie you’ve been talking about for a while.”

She seemed hesitant, and I tried to ignore how my heart hurt at seeing her avoid my eyes. “Please?” I asked, aware of how I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done so, much less for another person’s companion. “I miss you.”

That last confession came out unintentionally, and I could already see myself backtracking when she raised her beautiful bright eyes to meet mine, smiling softly up at me in a sweet, innocent look that shouldn’t have turned me on as much as it did.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Ok,” I agreed, biting my lip to stop a moan from surfacing at the simple sight of Loki smiling openly at me, because of me. “Let’s do it.” I pulled him to the living room, trying not to shiver from how his fingers felt interlaced with mine, knowing he’d think it was because the cold bothered me. I didn’t want him feeling worse than I’d already made him feel, I was already too guilty for my behavior these last few days.

I put on the movie we’d been commenting about before locating a nice blanket to cover us with, before hesitating at the realisation that I really shouldn’t sit as close to him as I usually did.

Unfortunately for me, he noticed, raising one of his perfect eyebrows as I tried to play it off as nothing, laughing at myself before taking a seat next to him on the sofa. “Let’s watch it!” I tried to come off as excited - I’d been the one commenting on how much I wanted him to watch Hocus Pocus for days now, but the second the movie started, I knew I was a lost cause.

Being so close to him, sharing a blanket, being engulfed by his natural perfume of spices and winter, I felt myself growing wet despite my best wishes. Fuck. He was right there. But I knew he’d never see me in any sort of flattering, attractive way, so I had to get a grip over myself, because I didn’t want him to notice that there was something wrong with me.

“Are you ok?” He asked, a few minutes into the movie, as I tried my best to remain absolutely immobile in order not to feel his skin against mine. It was only after he asked that I realized I wasn’t even breathing properly, and I must have looked pathetic, sitting there like a statue, pretending to watch the television.

“Yes, yes,” I breathed out, adjusting myself in hopes to get more comfortable and hopefully calm down his suspicions. “Don’t worry about me. Watch the movie!” The problem now was that the way I was sitting, sitting on both my legs that were now curled underneath me, the throbbing of my clit was just that much more obvious, and I was on the verge of moaning just from the little bit of friction the position offered me.

Fuck, I hate this.

I tried my best to shift in my seat as inconspicuous as possible, but every movement I made now sent a direct jolt to my desperate pussy. I was on the verge of crying when his voice interrupted my own internal monologue again.

“Okay, enough of this, Y/N. You will tell me what’s going on. Speak. Now.” The authoritative tone of his voice didn’t help my little situation at all, and at last, I found myself whimpering under his penetrating gaze. Immediately, my hands came up to cover my mouth, ashamed beyond belief that I’d done something so mortifying, especially since Loki’s eyebrows were now close to his hairline as he stared back at me with his mouth hanging open.

“Are you… Are you aroused?” I couldn’t really admit it, far too embarrassed to speak, so I just hid my face in my hands as I rested my elbows on my thighs. “Did I… Did I do this to you?”

Loki’s P.O.V.

I watched as she started giggling at my question, uncertain as to where that response would lead me as far as the question I’d asked was concerned. When I didn’t offer any sort of accompanying commentary, opting to let the silence in the room rest, she at last sighed, revealing her gorgeous face to me again.

“Yes,” she admitted, and I felt like my heart had stopped beating for a second. She bit her lower lip again, avoiding my gaze as she stared at the tv I’d turned off minutes ago. “I’m sorry, Loki. I know we’re friends, it’s just… I’m on my period and I get really fucking horny and…”

“You’re on your what?” I interrupted, unfamiliar with the term she was utilizing. She blinked a few times, like she wasn’t expecting me to be concerned about that particular part of her speech.

“My period,” she repeated, scratching the back of her neck. “I’m taking by your question that Asgardian women don’t have it, but us Misgardians do. Well, some of us, and only after we reach a certain age. Basically, we start… bleeding… from our… lower parts. And it’s very messy and emotional because our hormones start acting up and that’s why I’ve been acting crazy these last few days.”

I didn’t know what to say, too concerned with trying to process her words. “You bleed… from your lower parts. Why?” Confusion was all I could understand in the moment, but thankfully, it seemed like she didn’t mind. In fact, by the way her adorable giggle echoed around the room, she seemed very amused by my reaction.

“It’s basically nature's way of punishing us for not getting pregnant.” Well, I wasn’t expecting that. Immediately, perking up, I licked my lips as I dragged my eyes over her body once more, admiring the way her breasts moved with each breath she took.

“And you want my help to deal with that,” I clarified, but when her eyebrows shot up on her forehead, I got confused once again.

“No! I mean… No, of course not. What do you think you could do to help me with this?” She asked, hugging herself, her eyes avoiding mine once more. I huffed, getting tired of this and her sheepishness.

“Well, I could put a baby in you, for one.” By the way her mouth fell open, I could see that the idea shocked her, and I wasn’t sure if it was in a good way. “At the very least, I could help you deal with your arousal levels. Don’t you think that would be a much nicer way to spend the evening, than stealing glances at me while clenching your beautiful thighs?”

She shut her mouth but looked to the other side of the room, pondering my words as I waited for any sign of agreement so I could pounce. I was already licking my lips in expectation when she turned back to me, a supplicant look on her face.

“I-I don’t… I mean, yes, sure, but… Loki, I’m all bloodied!” I chuckled as I pulled her to my lap, enjoying her warmth against me. Carefully pushing away the stray hairs across her face, I made sure she was looking deep in my eyes when I talked to her again.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Well, I’ve always enjoyed the taste of blood.” The shiver that ran through my spine at his words and the feeling of his cold breath over my mouth stopped me from realizing what was going on until he had me in his arms, half-way through our hallway already.

“Loki…” I tried to warn him once more, despite desperately desiring anything he wanted to be doing to me, but he stopped me with a hush, his beautiful green eyes sparkling as he looked down at me in his arms.

“No more thinking, my sweet. Just feeling.”

The first thing I felt was the softness of his covers as he laid me down on his bed with all the care in the world, like I was the most precious thing he had ever held between his arms. “I never thought I’d see you here, like this,” he whispered, his eyes drinking me in, making my breath hitch at the lust I saw there.

The second thing I felt was his heart beating against mine in a quick dance as he laid down over me, both of our shirts dismissed as he kissed me deeply and languidly. “You really want this,” I noticed, finally realizing that Loki had been wishing for the same thing as I had, probably for just as long.

The only answer I got was a bruise on my neck from his icy lips, before he continued to trace a path with his tongue that took him directly to my nipples. “These look so sensitive, my dove.” He wasn’t wrong. I was sensitive all over, especially after the new nickname he’d just assigned me. “Do not worry, I’ll take proper care of them.”

He drew the nipples with the edge of his tongue, his eyes connected with mine the entire time, and I struggled to keep in the gasps and moans that were begging to be released. Almost as if he was reading my mind, he ordered, “Let them out, my sweet. I want to hear all of the delicious sounds you make. I’ve been dreaming about them for too long.”

The symphony of my own sounds of pleasure then broke free, adding to the dizzy feeling in my head as Loki continued to nibble and suck on each inch of skin available to him. The curtain of raven hair temporarily blocked him from me as he moved lower and lower across my body in a snail’s pace, until his lips were dancing on the edge of my jeans. Only then did he raise his beautiful eyes to meet mine again.

“May I take them off?” I could only nod, but it was enough for him to open that blinding smile of his, while his fingers made quick work of my pants and panties. The smell of blood then reached my nose, albeit timidly, and I groaned, suddenly snapped back to reality. “What’s this?” Loki asked, his fingers playing with the string of my tampon.

“It’s one of the tools women use to contain the blood inside our bodies. I have to change them from time to time, but at least I don’t get permanently dirty during my period.” He didn’t immediately say anything, too preoccupied with analyzing my pussy, while I trembled in expectation under his unwavering gaze.

“Can I pull it out?” Loki asked, his eyes shining with a distinctive sparkle I couldn’t really identify.

“Why?” I hesitated, unsure if I wanted him to see the mess it’d certainly become, even if I desperately wanted to have him inside of me.

“Because I want to taste you, my dove.” He teased me with tiny little kisses over my navel, a mischievous smile on his lips. “And I desperately want to feel you from the inside.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that, but Loki simply took my silence as an agreement. Soon, his tongue was tracing circles around my clit, until it finally closed in on it, before he softly sucked it inside his mouth. And I was a goner.

Thinking was impossible, and he was right, all I could do was feel. I didn’t even notice he’d already taken off my tampon until I felt his tongue going lower and lower, finding my wet hole and plunging inside of it.

He moaned at the taste of the wetness he found there, and I could only tremble in his arms and move my hips to fuck myself on his tongue. “And you wanted to deprive me of this…” He actually looked disappointed in me as he looked down on my cunt perfectly on display for him. He held my lower lips open with both of his thumbs before diving in once more, slurping and groaning and I felt myself cumming just from the deprivation of it all.

At the new flow of wetness that hit his lips, Loki actually growled against my pussy, stretching his jaw to encompass my whole pussy with his mouth. “I could taste you forever, my sweet…” he whispered when he finally pulled away, pushing two long fingers inside of me and pumping a few times as I whined when he touched my sweet spot, pressing harshly against in before pulling back and admiring the mixture of blood and cum in his fingers. “But I really need to be inside of you now.”

After sucking on his own digits until they were clean, Loki stepped out of the bed to remove his pants, revealing a gorgeously long cock, the head red and weeping as he pumped it a few times while looking down at the mess I was, sprawled out over his cover for his viewing pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, almost to himself, and I moaned at the simple comment, catching his attention as his eyes flew back to stare directly at me again. “You get aroused when I compliment you.” It wasn’t a question, and I wouldn’t know what to answer if it were. However, to both of our eyes, it was clear that it was nothing but a statement of the truth.

“Come here, my little dove. Let me ease my throbbing hardness in that perfect warm cunt of yours.” Having yanked me to the edge of the bed by one of my ankles, he pushed inside of me swiftly, cautiously watching my face for any signs of discomfort. “How does it feel, my sweet? To have me inside of your body? Because to me, it’s like reaching Valhalla while remaining on Midgard. You’re so perfect. The perfect flower for me. I think I made the right choice in deciding to deposit the future prince in you.”

He didn’t give me any time to process the information he so casually dropped on me, immediately starting to fuck me with long and deep thrusts that made me feel his cock deep inside my belly.

Loki’s P.O.V.

“Oh, look at you, my sweet… so perfect, accepting me deep inside of you. Can you see it? Look, how much of you is already mine, my love.” I carefully reached her nape to pull her so she could view the protuberance in her lower belly every time I pushed in. “This is where our child will grow. I can’t wait to see you round with my seed.”

Y/N started to sob as I quickened the pace with which I speared her, her nails carving its marks on my shoulders and back. “Lo-Loki, what are you talking about?” She screamed over the sounds of our passionate lovemaking, and I grinned, rubbing my nose on her neck.

“About me making sure you won’t have your period again, my love. Wasn’t this what we talked about just before?” Her eyes grew big at my words, but before she could say anything else, I hit her special spot repeatedly, making her head fall back against the pillow as she screamed her release. “There you go, my sweet… my perfect girl. You want my seed? Say you want to be mine, my dove, say you’ll be only mine until the end of time.”

I closed my eyes as I felt my own high fast approaching, my breathing getting heavier as our movements became even harsher, almost animalistic. “I-I want it, Loki. Make me… Make me yours.”

The sound of her melodic voice asking for my release was what brought me over the edge, and I made sure to continue to pump it further inside of her until I could no longer move, finally allowing myself to drop on top of her warm body.

“Loki…” She called out to me after a few minutes, when I was almost embraced by the sweet hands of slumber.

“Call me my prince,” I immediately interrupted, making myself more comfortable while remaining inside of her.

“My prince…” She tried again, earning an affirmative hum this time. “You know my period only stops while I’m pregnant, right?”

I took some time to think her words through, while I exchanged our positions so she’d be leaning over my chest. “That only means I’ll have to keep you pregnant until eternity, my sweet.”

#loki laufeyson smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki #smut #loki laufeyson fan fiction #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki fan fiction #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson reader #loki reader #loki reader fanfiction #loki reader smut

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renaissanceduroi-archive · 3 years

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drabble ; deserving

Hi I accidentally wrote a 5 page drabble(?) where Elysia meets Lysandre for the first time after seeking him out when he doesn’t attend Sycamore’s funeral. It’s relatively sparse and unedited because I am tired and did not intend for this to happen, but I am excited by it nonetheless so here it is:

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“You’re weak.” What a way to introduce herself. She should be shocked, or afraid, or heartbroken, but Elysia is angry. It doesn’t matter that a dead man is breathing before her; it only matters what he has done.

Despite her rancid tone, Elysia gently lets the honchkrow out of its ball, as the poor thing is not responsible for the deeds of its master. It looks so frail. Old. Like Sycamore, but without that undying glint of hope in his eye. What would Lysandre do, without the bird? Would he care enough to check in on her? Or would it have been a relief to him, to not be able to know about her or Sycamore anymore?

“I have always wanted to see what you look like,” is all that Lysandre has to say for himself. He looks rather comfortable, sitting on the ground, himself looking quite frail, but not a day over forty, despite how many years it has been.

“Shut UP!” Her voice is a screech. They are so isolated, it hardly matters -- and if they are overheard, being found out is what this pathetic excuse for a man deserves. “You have no idea how much you hurt the professor. He hurt, for you. Every. Single. Day. Every single day. You get to run away and disappear, he is left to wonder. Worry himself sick. It’s selfish. It’s disgusting of you.”

“I knew our royal genes were strong, but you are nearly the spitting image of your grandfather. Though much prettier, of course.”

“We have both known what you’ve been doing. Sending your poor honchkrow all the way out to Lumiose City to watch him. What, did you want to make sure he was still alive? Because clearly you care so much!”

“I did not intend for it to be secret.”

“Professor Sycamore thought of you every day of his life, and in his final moments. But you did not care enough to show up to his funeral. Not a care in the world. Why? Not worth the potential of being seen? Too much of a hassle? Didn’t want to have to witness how you left the world? How you left him to DIE?! He is-- was… is, the cornerstone of my life. I have loving family and friends, but he was, in a way, a soulmate. Not romantically of course, but beyond that. He taught me everything I know. He taught me how to pour love into something and create something beautiful. He taught me the virtues of balance, patience, forgiveness. He forgave you, Lysandre. And that’s a true testament to his character, because I don’t think I ever will. Not for the destruction and devastation you caused, but for how you betrayed the only person left alive who still loved you.”

“We can bring him back.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that to me.”

“We can.”

“Don’t SAY THAT TO ME! That is the last thing he would have wanted. Did he teach you nothing? Do you even now move through your life so self-absorbed that you cannot understand that someone may have different desires than you?”

“I acknowledge peoples desires.”

“You just do not care.”

“I dismiss ones that are unproductive, yes.”

“How could he have spoken so highly of you.”

“Are you seeing that he perhaps was not always of sound judgement?”

She freezes for a moment, but only a flash. “Stop. You’re trying to sow seeds of doubt into my mind.”

“I am merely attempting to show you that all is not as perfect as you want to believe.”

“What do you know of perfection? You are a flawed man who caused ugly destruction, nothing more.”

“I know more of perfection than any person. I have witnessed it, embodied it, believed in it, created it.”

“You’re insane.”

“If I were insane, would your pure Augustine have loved me so?”

She wants to spit on him. To vomit. To scream. She had imagined meeting Lysandre many times, asking him all sorts of questions, wondering what bond they would form. But today was the day she pushed herself to truly discover him, fueled by the sole desire of yelling at him for continuing to be so weak as to betray his only friend in his final moments.

“Would he?” Lysandre presses.

“Clearly, he did.”

She expected Lysandre to smirk at that, to be haughty, but he remains emotionless. “Clearly.” … “Is this all you wanted from me? You came all the way out here to scorn me?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Such a distance, fueled by the fire in your heart.”

“Everything you say is nonsense!”

“Even when I try to show my appreciation for you? What a shame.”

“The last thing I want is your appreciation.”

“Ah, but you are doing so marvelously.”

She wants to bite back with I haven’t done anything, but her curiosity overrides her. “...How so?” she asks, suspicious.

“Your beliefs are strong. Your passion consumes you. Your values dominate your every decision. And of course, you have taken wonderful care of the professor for me.”

“There was nothing stopping you from taking care of him yourself! It’s all he wanted!”

“But if I had, I would have interfered with the balance of things. Don’t you see? He imparted his value of balance upon you, correct?” He waits for an answer.

“Correct.”

“I could not have forced myself back into his life. It would have broken the delicate ground upon which he rebuilt his world. I tried to raze and rebuild the world, but the force of destruction was too strong that the force of balance overcame me, and then he, and his force of life, was meant to override that. Life must go on, Elysia.” Hearing her name in his voice sends an indescribable shudder through her body. It’s like, a snake, or an eel, something shocking and wet and cold and wrong. “And now you are the life that must go on. You see it now, don’t you? You have his teachings, but my temperament. His values, but my blood.”

“I wish I had your blood on my hands.”

“I wish you would stop threatening me, but I suppose neither of us will get what we want.”

“Speak for yourself.” Elysia slyly pulls her hand out from her pocket and tosses a pokeball in the air. The professor’s charizard -- her charizard, now -- lands on the ground with a hard stomp, shaking the earth. It wears a mega stone around its neck, matching one of the rings she wears on her right hand. The pokemon recognizes Lysandre instantly, and is visibly confused, wary, unsure of how to act. How much does the charizard understand of what Lysandre has done? It surely witnessed its trainer, its original trainer that is, cry from the anguish caused by the man below him. But Lysandre also cared for this pokemon once, too. He gave it pets and treats, looked after it while the professor was away, and looked after the professor itself. Why is it being used to threaten him, now? But the charizard can sense Elysia’s anger. And he must trust the person that Sycamore entrusted him with, rather than the man who has been absent for years.

So as Elysia fumes at him, the charizard growls at a man who once was a friend.

“Do not allow yourself to be overcome by wrath, Elysia. Anger is not becoming on you.”

“I will not be calm only when you stop inciting my rage. And I will get what I want.” She gestures forward and charizard leans in, snarling in Lysandre’s face, small embers inadvertently flurrying out of its nose as it begins to carry the same wrath as its trainer. “You have caused so much suffering to a wonderful man. And you

“I admire your determination.”

“I do not want to be someone you admire.”

“Then stop acting admirably.”

“...”

“If Augustine saw you right now, what would he say?”

This makes charizard simmer down, as well.

“Is this your way of begging for mercy?”

“I do not need your mercy.”

“How immortal is immortal, hm? Surely being decapatated by a dragon would be enough to strip the gift of life away from you.”

“I thought you said Augustine taught you about forgiveness.”

“You do not DESERVE forgiveness!”

“Ah, so people are only given what they deserve?”

“You are hardly people.”

“Yes, I am a god.”

“You are a MONSTER!”

“Do not lose track of your emotions, Elysia. You are angry about nothing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then tell me, what are you angry about? My not attending the ceremony of our friend’s death?”

“Your remorseless betrayal of a man who would have done anything for you.”

“Would he have? Elysia. He never came looking for me.”

“...What do you mean.”

“He never came looking for me. He never contacted me. You perceive my honchkrow as me being too weak to approach, but it was an invitation, open to being responded to. You found me so easily, and that was by design. He didn’t do anything for me.”

“You’re lying. The professor was passionate, and driven, and--”

“Weak. He was too weak to confront the fear of what he would find when he looked deep enough. He was like this before I fired the Weapon, and remained as such to his dying day.”

She’s still angry. She’s still so, so angry at him, a lava still sitting in her stomach and wrists and wanting to explode again. But for the first time so far, the tides change, and water strikes her now. Tears begin to prick in her eyes and warp her vision, and she falls backward, sitting on the ground. She is no longer standing over him, now.

“Call off your pokemon.”

“No.”

Lysandre looks the charizard in the eye and commands, “Dracaufeu. Retourne.”

The dragon hesitates, unsure of what to do. It continues its locked gaze with Lysandre until it decides… to not listen to him. The charizard snuffs a small ember at him and retains its stance.

“Don’t speak to the professor’s pokemon like that.”

“Its allegiance to you is admirable. And isn’t it your pokemon, now?”

“...Yes. It’s just taking some getting used to.”

“Adjusting always takes time.”

“It does.” Elysia wants to rest her head on her knees, give her body a moment’s rest, but for some reason she is afraid of letting her guard down around this man. Rationally, yes he is a threat, but she also does not feel as though he will be violent toward her. And yet, she is still on high guard. The two of them exist in a brief silence, together but separate. The air around Elysia is filled with solid utter grief and warping distorting rage; the air around Lysandre is stagnant nothingness save for the threatening dragon’s head looming above his own. Finally, though, now the calmest she has been this entire time, Elysia asks flatly, “Why didn’t you come to the funeral.”

Lysandre answers simply. “I have not seen him since before I fired the Weapon. To see him decaying, ravaged by age would have corrupted my memory of him.”

“You disregarded dignity and respect for a loved one because you did not want to perceive him as something other than perfect.”

“Yes.”

“You disgust me.”

“I know. … What are people to one another if not projections of stylized impressions?”

“Love is raw, intimate, messy, difficult. Love is not pristine, nor is any person. Relationships are more than distant idealization.”

“Then why did you yell and threaten me when I suggested Augustine was flawed?”

For the first time, she has no answer to this.

“Now. Do you have anything else to say, or will you leave me be? This was quite a lot of interaction for someone who has been isolated for as long as I have.”

“You cannot make me take pity on you.”

“I do not want your pity. I just want to be alone.”

In a huff, Elysia plants her feet firmly on the ground and stands up, fists clenched by her sides. “It’s what you deserve.” She begins to mount her charizard, only catching a quick glimpse of Lysandre’s face as she turns. He’s smirking.

“Exactly.”

Without another word, she and charizard fly off the mountainside, back toward town.

#drabble #future verse tbd #death tw #elysia ; ic

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halfway-happyyy · 5 years

Text

I Put a Spell on You

AN: This is SMUTTY beyond belief, just as a general warning. Alexander is a daddy whose been pushed to his limits, and he’s about to let his lady know. Trigger warnings include: daddy!kink, choking, spanking, praise, etc. Go forth at your own discretion.

Word count: 3660

You couldn’t say for sure where the sudden burst of rebellion had come from, and you certainly couldn’t fathom the consequences awaiting you because of it.

It had started well before the event had even begun, if you were honest with yourself. Alexander had offered you a tequila shot which you happily accepted- poured a miniscule pile of salt onto the back of your hand and grasped the wedge of a lime in the other. Both trivialities were unnecessary as the brand of tequila he favored was as smooth as anything you’d ever had. But old habits die hard, you supposed. You tossed back the liquid, set the shot glass back on the marble countertop and slid it back to where he stood in a silent gesture for one more, if you please.

Alexander uncorked the bottle and let it hover over the rim of the shot glass. He cocked an eyebrow at you in silent suspicion. “Have you had anything to eat today darling?”

“Of course, I have. I’ll make sure to video chat you the next time to be sure, though.” Despite the fact that he hadn’t meant it to, the question irritated you to no end, and your answer came out a tad more venomous than either of you had expected.

Alexander filled your glass wordlessly, cheers’ you and tipped the rest of the tequila into his open mouth, eyeing you the entire time. He grabbed your empty glass, walked the few feet over to the sink and rinsed them out. When he turned back to you, his arms were crossed firmly against his chest, his lips set in a firm line. He cocked his head to the side, his blue orbs clouded over and glittering in the low light of his kitchen. “Mustn’t forget that daddy bites harder than that tone of yours ever could, hmm?” You were silent as you regarded each other, hoping that it was dim enough in the room to disguise the blush creeping steadily into the apples of your cheeks and up your neck. “Nothing to say now?”

“No daddy.” You murmured.

Alexander pushed himself from the edge of the sink to caress an impossibly warm palm against your cheek. “There’s my good girl. You’re going to behave for me tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose. “Because what happens to little girls who don’t behave?”

You trembled at the mere inflection of his voice; could feel yourself growing ever more aroused the longer he spoke to you like this. “They get punished.”

“Mm, that’s right,” He simpered. “They get punished.” He leaned ever closer to you; lips ghosting across the sensitive skin of your neck, causing the breath to hitch in your throat. “You know all too well about that, don’t you?” His large hand traversed the dips and valleys of your back with precision, stopping only to settle against the rounded curve of your ass where he squeezed rather harshly.

“Yes daddy.”

“Very good. Are you ready to go? The limousine is here.”

It had been easy to get lost in the throng of people once you had arrived at the venue. Normally you felt most comfortable next to Alexander; there was a certain ease in having him speak first. He was painfully adept in a room full of people; utterly charismatic and humorous and wholly on- all the things you simply weren’t tonight. This was a newer element to your relationship. It had slipped out one evening whilst he was particularly deep inside of you- really, truly hitting that one spot over again, the pure shock of it sending ripples of pleasure throughout your entire body. He had wanted to talk about it the moment he’d finished, pulling you into the strength and warmth of his chest, lips hardly straying from your temple. “Talk to me baby… is this what you want?” And of course, the answer had been a resounding yes.

He tried to catch your eye multiple times throughout the evening. At one point, a waitress approached you, a single cocktail quavered perilously on her tray. “That man would like to buy you a drink,” She turned to the right and gestured with a gloved hand to Alexander through the crowd.

You raised the drink in your hand in toast, secretly hoping he’d catch your eye. “You can send it back, I’m already all set.”

Towards the end of the evening he had succeeded in finding you knee-deep in conversation with the casting director on one of his latest shoots. Ever the gentleman, he waited for you patiently, only clearing his throat when the conversation had begun to wrap up.

“My love, our car is here.”

You could feel the strength of his grip around your elbow, the pure heat emanating from his hand radiated pleasantly up your arm and caused you to shiver involuntarily into the touch.

You bid your new friend goodbye and headed to the coat-check with Alexander not much farther in tow. Once outside, the wind whipped violently around you causing you to hug your arms tighter to your frame. You ignored the fact that Alexander had failed to offer up his own jacket, a sentiment he was known for on previous occasions.

Once inside the comfort of the vehicle, you tilted your head back against the soft leather of the seat behind you. Stars swam past the lids of your closed eyes, and you smiled softly to yourself when you felt Alexander’s feather-light touch on the inside of your thigh.

“You disobeyed me this evening.” The statement had been a quiet one, you almost asked him to repeat it. “I thought we already talked about little girls who purposely disobeyed their daddies.”

His gaze was distant; trained on something unseen outside the window of the speeding vehicle. Alexander leaned over and wordlessly pressed the button that closed the partition separating you from the prying eyes of the driver. “Come here.” He patted the lap of his black dress pants twice; and you knew by the tone of his voice that he was far past the point of asking you again. You knew instantly what he wanted from you and you obliged him without fuss. You settled yourself over his lap, your clothed ass raised high in air before him. “We did discuss consequences tonight, didn’t we?”

Alexander snaked a warm hand under the hem of your dress and hooked a finger inside the lining of your tights, yanking them down over your ass in one swift motion. He rubbed his hand in soothing circles over your soft skin, marveling at the sudden appearance of goosebumps. Without word, he lifted a hand high in the air and let it land with a loud thwack against the rounded curve of your ass cheek. “We did, daddy.” You murmured, using every ounce of self-restraint you owned not to wiggle your ass in anticipation for the next one.

“We sure did baby-doll… And what did we say happened to little girls who disobeyed their daddies?” He let loose another hard smack against you, causing you to buck involuntarily against him. You tried in vain to ignore the subtle throbbing in your pussy.

“They get punished, daddy.”

Alexander began to alternate between ass cheeks, the subtle pang of fiery pain caused you to suck your bottom lip into your mouth, and whine shamelessly into the sensation. “That is right my sweet girl. They get punished.” He continued to spank you, and when he thought you’d had just about enough, he teased a long fingertip down the front of your panties, noticing the moisture that had collected there since he’d began his tirade on your ass. “So wet for me, aren’t you?” You wanted so badly for him to slip a fingertip past the flimsy material of your underwear into your warm wetness, though you stayed silent. “Of course, you are.” Another loud slap against your ass caused you to groan out loudly into the muddled air before you. “I must confess… I’m starting to think you enjoy misbehaving for me,”

At that point the limousine rolled to a halt and you sat bolt upright, fixing the front of your dress as you did so. Alexander lowered the partition, passed the driver a crisp fifty-dollar bill and exited the vehicle to his left. You followed suit after him, pathetically grateful for the impossibly chilly air around you. He was wordless as he fit the key into the lock and pushed the front door open, allowing you to move past as he did so. He stocked silently to the bedroom at the end of the hall and waited for you to join him, arms crossed over his chest, expression expectant. “Where was I doll?”

You stood in the dimly lit doorway of your bedroom, head resting lazily against the wooden, paint-chipped doorframe. “You mentioned something about me enjoying misbehaving for you.”

Alexander lifted his head an inch, eyeing you directly now. “Ah yes. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced on that to be honest with you.”

“I don’t blame you…”

Alexander cocked his head to the side. “Beg your pardon?” You leveled your gaze with his; blue orbs alight with a blaze you’d never seen before. “What do you think your punishment should be tonight, sweet girl?”

You swallowed hard, trying your absolute hardest to appear nonchalant. “I couldn’t begin to guess, daddy.”

“Come here.”

You obeyed him without question. He towered over you in almost every conceivable way and this notion did nothing to quell the arousal swirling wildly in the pit of your belly. You sighed heavily when you noticed the erection straining hard against the crotch of his trousers. He placed two fingertips underneath your chin and raised your face to meet his gaze. “What do you think your punishment should be?”

“Whatever you see fit, daddy.”

Alexander shook his head, letting out a puff of air as he did so. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes daddy.” You nodded your head, your eyes wide.

He dropped to his knees, wordlessly tugging your panties and tights along with him. You grabbed onto his shoulder for support as he pulled the material from your legs and tossed them somewhere to the side. He rose slowly, lifting the hem of your dress as he did so and pulling it over your head. It always shocked you how comfortable it was to be entirely bare in front of him. Alexander never once treated viewing you in your most natural way like anything less than seeing a priceless work of art for the first time. It was overwhelming if you were honest with yourself. “Turn around.” He murmured.

You did as you were told and leant over the foot of the bed for him. Again, he passed the palm of his hand over the still-sensitive flesh of your ass cheeks. He leant forward and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the taut skin there, causing you to gasp at the sensation of his wet tongue. He pulled back to blow a steady stream of cool air over the spit, causing you to tremble violently beneath his touch. Without warning, he let loose an open-handed smack against you, alternating between cheeks like he did in the limo on the way home. “Fuck,” You cursed under your breath as tears prickled threateningly in the depths of your eyes.

Alexander ceased his merciless attack on your ass to spread your cheeks wide open, marveling silently at the sight before him. “You know I adore you like this, don’t you? Wide open, trembling, and utterly soaked for me?” He teased two fingers up and down the length of your slit, causing you to wiggle your ass headily in his direction. “But you need to be taught a lesson little girl.” He leaned forward, his subtle facial stubble tickling the most sensitive part of your inner thighs and only enhancing the pleasure of the situation that much more. He licked a long stripe up the length of you, parting your inner lips as he did so. He worked his way to your clit slowly and methodically, and when he got there, sucked the swollen bud into his mouth and applied just the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning loudly into the still air before you. He began to fuck you with his tongue, periodically throwing in a few hard slaps to your ass as he did so. You could feel yourself start to unravel beneath him; it was the searing pain mixed with the all-encompassing pleasure, the innate push and pull of conflicting sensations sending your body into full-on meltdown mode. He pulled away without warning, the sudden loss detrimental to the orgasm that had been gradually building up inside of you. Alexander chuckled heartily and rose to his feet, shaking his head in disbelief as he did so. “Oh, sweet girl… you honestly didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” You opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head again, stopping you in your tracks. He slowly worked himself out of his crisp, white button up and un-looped the belt from his pants, tossing that aside as well. You briefly wondered if he was going to use that on you tonight, though the thought was quashed when he noticed you eyeing it and shook his head with a sly grin. “Not to worry baby girl, we won’t be needing that tonight.” He pulled his underwear and pants from his legs and stepped out of the pooled material wordlessly. “That is unless you want me to?”

“No thank you, daddy.” You hadn’t even had to think about it.

Alexander stepped behind you, lining the head of his cock at the front of your entrance. You wanted nothing more than to push your hips back, feel him inside you, though you stopped yourself. You could only imagine the consequences born from that foolish decision. He leaned forward above you, placing soft kisses up and down the length of your spine. “You think bad girls get to come whenever they feel like it?” His lips left a wake of fire everywhere they touched. “You think that’s a suitable reward for bad behavior?”

“No, daddy.”

He pushed himself inside of you, not as far in as you wanted him to be, but you would take what you could get. He rested his head against your lower back, both hands grasped either side of your hips possessively. “You are going to come for me, only when I say you can. Do you understand?” He pushed himself the rest of the way in, hitting your spot almost instantly, the pleasure causing hundreds of stars to bloom behind your closed eyes. “Tell me that you understand, sweet girl.”

He rocked against you rather roughly, causing you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down. “I understand, daddy.”

“What a good girl you’re being for me…” His movements were merciless now; he angled his hips in such a way that when he thrust into you, he was hitting your G-spot every single time. You reached for the pillow in front of you, wanting to use it to stifle the screams that were falling from your mouth at break-neck speeds. “Don’t you dare try and keep quiet…” The voice exiting his mouth was gruff, and wrecked, and his movements stilled slightly as he bent over you to toss the pillow from the bed. “Oh, my fucking god baby, you feel so good…”

He pulled himself from your warmth, groaning loudly as he did so.

“Turn around for me.” You inhaled deeply and rolled onto your back as you were told. The urge to snake a fingertip down to your near-painfully swollen clit was overpowering, though by some stretch of a miracle you managed to ignore it for the time being. Alexander made his way to your side of the bed and reached into the drawer next to it, pulling out your vibrator. He was back at your side within seconds and turning it on to its lowest vibration. “Sit up please. Now, would you like me to use this on you, sweet girl?”

You nodded your head emphatically. “More than anything, please.”

Alexander smiled softly and bent his head towards you, placing a series of kisses up your neck and jaw. You spread your legs for him and waited with bated breath as he placed the vibrator against your clit, moving it in slow, hard circles. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his lips close enough to ear that you could hear his hitched breath, could hear exactly how much this was affecting him. “Shall I bump the strength up a notch?”

You trembled helplessly beneath him. “Yes please,”

He did as you asked and began to press ever harder against your swollen clit. You dropped your head back, your eyes shut tight. Never had you ever wanted him more than you did at this exact moment. Alexander had moved his lips to your collarbone and was murmuring nonsensical things, you could hear that he was stroking himself off by the periodic moans from his mouth.

“Fuck, daddy…” Your voice wavered; the familiar coil of pressure began to build in the depths of your belly.

Alexander turned the vibrator to full strength, stilled the circles, and let it rage against you for a good minute before shutting it off with a soft sigh. “You were close weren’t you baby doll?”

“So fucking close…” You whimpered helplessly.

Alexander clicked his tongue in sympathy. “I know baby. I could feel it. I bet if I touched you right now, right how you are, I could you have you coming apart for me in seconds.” He stood up from where you were, spit into the palm of his hand, stroked himself off momentarily and then gestured for you to lie down. “I need to be inside you again, I can’t help it.” Within seconds he was there, buried to the hilt and stretching you out in the most wonderful way possible. You couldn’t explain it properly if you tried, but when he was inside of you like this… there was a fullness to it. A weight. A security. You fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces. His hand roamed up your body, stopping momentarily at your breast. He rolled a pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, earning him a long, low moan and an involuntary cock squeeze. It was his turn to throw back his head in ecstasy, his mouth hung open in a slack ‘o’. “I so love the way you squeeze my cock like that,” His hand travelled to the base of your neck, where he began to place some pressure.

You were close now; it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. “Daddy, I…”

Alexander rolled his hips against you in a circular motion, all the while applying more pressure to the hand around your neck. You began to feel lightheaded, both with the choking and with the waves of pleasure roiling around inside of you. “Would you like to touch yourself sweet girl? Make yourself come all over my cock?” His voice was low and utterly wrecked.

“Y-yes… yes please daddy.”

Alexander released his hold on your neck and beamed down at you. “Go on then.”

He never let up fucking you; he was relentless about it in every conceivable way. You wound your hand down between you and began to apply just the right amount of pressure to your clit before you began to unravel beneath him. “Oh fuck…” It really hadn’t taken long. You were right there and then-

“Look at me baby,” Alexander’s tone had grown stern and you were immediately filled with panic at the thought of not being allowed release. You forced your eyes open. He caressed an arm to your cheek and simply murmured, “You can come, sweet girl. Come for me as hard as you fucking can…”

And since you weren’t in any position to deny yourself such pleasures, you did exactly as you were told. His name rushed out of your mouth as a shattered scream, you stilled against his flush body, arched your back against the sheets beneath you and came harder than you though you ever had before. Your orgasms always had a way of spurring on his own, and as your body winded down from the high, he reached his. His hips stilled against your own, he threw his head back and let out a low, primal groan, spilling his warm seed deep inside of you. He peppered your lips and nose with kisses and begrudgingly pulled himself from you, sighing heavily and dropping onto his side.

You inhaled deeply, turning on your side to face him fully. There had never been a time where he wasn’t attractive to you, but viewing him up close? It took your breath away. You traced a soft fingertip over his nose, and around the delicate wrinkles next to his eyes. Your heart ached as he smiled sleepily into your touch. “Come here,” He murmured and gestured for you to curl into him, which you happily obliged.

Your eyes drifted shut at the sensation of his warm, measured breaths fanning out over the top of your head. “Are you alright, my love?” His voice bared the subtle weight of unsurety.

You lifted his wrist so that you could kiss the warm skin there. “Yeah Alex, I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t too… harsh on you?”

You nestled back against him, head resting easily in the crook of his neck. “No, you were good. You’d have to know that I’d let you know if there was something I was uncomfortable with or didn’t want.”

Alexander hummed softly against you. “I do love you endlessly.”

Your eyelids had grown heavy, sleep loomed close in the distance. “I love you too, Alex.”

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard smut #alexander skarsgard oneshot #alexander skarsgard imagines #writing #hooo boy #tw: daddy kink #alex sstuff

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 5 years

Note

For the smut prompts, 9 & 11 for Ben and Richie PLEASE we need more trashstack content

Hey! So I heard there’s a Trashtack Appreciation Weekend going on so I figured today was a good day to post this prompt.

This is some straight up NSFW so it’s going under the cut. Enjoy!!!

“Try to stay quiet, understand?”, “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Read on AO3

Richie squirmed in his seat, swallowing a groan when the vibrations started again. He had already lost count of how many times Ben had pushed him to the edge, only to turn off the vibrator just as he was about to come, leaving Richie gasping and on the verge of tears.

Richie stared at Ben, trying to catch his eye so he could silently beg for release, but his boyfriend was completely focused on Mike, listening to him talk about his plans to remodel the library. His face was the perfect example of innocence⎯ neither Mike nor Bill would be able to guess that there was a small remote in his pocket that he had been using to torment Richie throughout their dinner.

It was Richie’s idea.

He was the one who bought the vibrator and suggested they tried it tonight while their friends were visiting. Ben had accepted with a shy, curious smile, like any time Richie suggested that they try something new. He stretched Richie out with his fingers until he could slide the toy inside and then tested out the settings while he fucked Richie with it.

Richie thought he would be able to come once before dinner, to take the edge off and help him make it through the night. But then the doorbell rang and Ben turned the vibrator off, kissed Richie’s spine and rushed downstairs to let their guests in, leaving Richie alone to catch his breath and try to get his dick to calm down long enough to get his pants back on. It was fucking hard, pun absolutely intended, when everytime he moved the toy pressed against his prostate.

“Hey Richie. Are you okay? You’re quiet tonight.” Bill said, peering curiously at him.

“I’m fine, Big Bill.” Richie said, giving Bill a smile that was meant to be reassuring but he could tell his friend wasn’t convinced. He knew how he looked⎯ splotches of red in his cheeks, lower lip bitten red, eyes bright and slightly unfocused, a sheen of sweat across his forehead. He just hoped Mike and Bill thought it was because he was coming down with something and not because he was turned on beyond belief.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah Billy, just tired. Your mom really wore me out last- oh fuck.” Richie cursed when Ben picked that exact moment to change the setting of the toy to a faster one.

“Richie?” Mike asked with a note of concern.

“I’m fine, Mikey.” Richie said, voice shaking slightly.

“You don’t look fine.” Ben said, staring at him with a worried frown, but Richie could see the playful glint in his eyes. He was really regretting telling Ben to go crazy with it when he gave him the toy.

Richie stared right back at him, some kind of please I can’t take it anymore in his eyes. The toy was buzzing incessantly against his prostate, making his dick leak excessively in his pants. It was too much and Richie was too close. He didn’t know how he was going to hide his orgasm from his friends, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to come. He was so close, he could feel it, he⎯

“Motherfucker!” He cried out when Ben turned off the toy just as he was about to blow his load.

Mike and Bill stared at him in confusion while Ben tried to hide his smirk behind his hand. How his friends still hadn’t caught on, Richie didn’t know. All he knew was that he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I think you guys are right. I’m not feeling so good, I'm⎯” His voice cracked when he stood up and felt the toy shift inside him. He lowered the hem of his shirt over his crotch to hide the bulge in his jeans. “I think I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.”

After one last desperate look at Ben, Richie practically ran upstairs, cursing under his breath when the toy shifted inside him and his jeans dragged against his erection. He stepped into the bathroom, splashing cold water against his face in an attempt to calm down.

A knock on the door startled him.

“Rich?” Ben said from the other side. “Are you okay?” He pushed the door open, stepping inside.“Fuck Richie, you look⎯”

“Like a fucking mess?“

“Fucking hot.” Ben finished, moving to stand behind Richie, their eyes meeting through the mirror. Ben stared at him with a hungry fire in his eyes that sent a shot of arousal down Richie’s spine.

“You worked me really hard down there.” He said with a shaky laugh. “I was ready to come in my fucking pants, man.”

Ben let out a growl, pushing his hips against Richie’s ass, letting him feel the thick line of his erection. “No one gets to see you come but me.” The low, possessive tone went straight to Richie’s dick, making it twitch inside his jeans.

“Ben.” He whined. Ben was slowly rolling his hips against Richie, pushing the toy deeper inside him. “Please, I need⎯ please make me come. I can’t take it anymore.”

Ben grinned, pressing a kiss to the back of Richie’s neck. “I got you, sweetheart.”

One of his hands disappeared from Richie’s hips to reach into his pocket and then the toy whirred back to life.

Richie let out a strangled cry, gripping the sink to keep himself upright as the vibrator picked up speed until his entire body was shaking alongside with it. He pushed his ass back against Ben’s hips, fucking himself with the toy. Ben’s hand reached around him, palming Richie’s cock through his jeans. He was so hard after being edged for so long, precome was beading at the tip, Richie could feel it dragging against the wet spot on his boxers. His prostate was throbbing from the stimulation. He was so close, he was going to come, heat was burning low in his stomach, he whined. Fuck yes yes yes⎯

Then it all stopped.

The hand on his dick was gone, the toy stopped vibrating and Ben took a step back, leaving Richie with no way to press against him and fuck himself with it.

“No, fuck.” Richie groaned, panting heavily. Ben was staring at him with raw desire, looking like he wanted to eat him up. “Ben, please. I can't⎯ I can’t take it anymore.” He sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling a few tears slide down his face. “You’re killing me.”

“What do you want, Rich?” He asked, pressing his front against Richie’s back again. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come.” Richie said, his voice a desperate whisper. “Please baby, no more teasing. I just need you to make me come.”

Ben nodded before undoing Richie’s pants and sliding his hand inside, wrapping it around Richie’s dick and giving it a few strokes. “Fuck, you’re so hard.” Ben groaned, running his thumb over the slit, causing Richie to moan.

“Mmm yes. Fuck Ben yes.” Richie whimpered, pushing forward against his hand.

“Yeah. Is this what you want, sweetheart?” Ben whispered against his ear. “Or do you want something else? Come on, tell me.”

Richie drew in a shuddering breath, trying to think through the haze in his brain. “I want⎯ Your mouth.”

“On your cock?” Ben asked, kissing his neck. Richie shook his head. “Where? Tell me.”

“On my⎯ fuck. I want you to eat me out. Please.”

Ben moaned, licking his lips. “Okay.” He said, shoving Richie’s pants and underwear down his legs. “Try to stay quiet, understand? We still have guests downstairs.”

Richie nodded, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Ben pressed one last kiss to his neck before kneeling on the floor. He spread Richie’s legs apart and ran his hands up and down the dark hair that covered his thighs. Richie was breathing heavily, body taut with anticipation. When Ben’s thumb finally circled Richie’s hole, where it was stretched around the toy, he felt an electric shock go through him, a low whine escaping him at the small touch.

Ben hummed in appreciation. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” He muttered, pressing his thumb against the base of the toy, pushing it deeper inside and causing Richie’s hips to stutter forward. He fucked the vibrator into him, the silicone dragging against Richie’s abused hole and making his knees weak.

Then Ben was grabbing Richie’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart and licking around the toy.

“Oh my god.” Richie moaned, gripping the sink harder. “Fuck Ben, you're⎯ fuck. I need more.”

Ben pulled back and Richie felt like crying for a second, but then he was carefully removing the toy and tossing it aside. A loud gasp escaped Richie at the empty feeling, after such a long time of being filled.

But that feeling didn’t last long because soon he felt Ben’s tongue pushing against his entrance. He was loose from the toy and Ben’s tongue slid inside easily, then back out again until he was fucking Richie.

His beard dragged against the already sensitive skin as he ate him out and had Richie biting down on his fist to keep from screaming.

“Ben, baby I’m gonna come.” He choked out, pushing his hips back, fucking himself on Ben’s tongue. “Please let me come, please, I need⎯”

“Yeah, come for me, Rich.” Ben told him, voice hoarse and rough. “You were so good, sweetheart."

Richie whimpered at the praise. His dick was leaking steadily against his stomach, the tip red and glistening. He wanted to reach down and stroke himself, but if he let go of the sink his legs would give out underneath him.

"Ben, touch me. Please touch me, baby."

Ben shifted behind him. Richie expected to feel his hand around his cock or maybe playing with his balls⎯ what he didn’t expect was Ben pressing the vibrating toy against the tip of his cock.

"Jesus, fuck!” Richie couldn’t help but cry out as he came, exploding against the sink, his chest and even his chin.

When Richie stopped shaking Ben stood up, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his clothed erection to his naked ass. Richie’s dick gave a pathetic twitch.

“That was amazing.” Richie said, slumping back against Ben and giving him a lazy grin through the mirror.

Ben chuckled. “Yeah? I didn’t push you too hard?”

“Oh yeah. But I loved it.” He said, angling his head so he could kiss Ben’s jaw. Then he sighed happily. “Thanks for going along with my crazy ideas.”

“Anytime, Rich.”

They stood there like that until Richie’s breathing slowed down, which was hard when he could feel Ben subtly rolling his hips against him, looking for release.

When his muscles started working again, he turned around and kissed Ben. His mouth tasted like the strawberry lube that he used to open up Richie hours ago.

“Do you want me to blow you?” He asked, pulling back slightly, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. Ben’s eyes followed the movement and Richie was sure he was going to take him up on his offer, but then he shook his head.

“Why don’t you jump in the shower?"

Richie pouted, eyes darting down, towards the outline of Ben’s dick in his pants where he was still hard. "But what about you?”

“Well. I’m gonna go tell Bill and Mike that you aren’t feeling very well, see them out and then,” He grinned at Richie. “I’m gonna come back here and fuck you in the shower.”

Richie gulped loudly, his dick twitching feebly.

Yeah, that was definitely a better idea.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @stylesmelon @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @hammockrichie @jesuschristsupruvestar @mirandonsky @reddie4diaster @alargedepresso @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cry @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @reddieslashgeneralhorror @madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @lover-mouth @atownofeggs @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @a-gay-treee @twoidiotsinl0ve @spirited-marvel @rebecca-the-queen @juhavs @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @soooobr @purebloodqueen @call-me-bread @britcorm (if you want to be added, let me know!)

#trashstack #some good ol' smut #bottom richie tozier #I was surprised by how much I like this ship #I just love every Richie ship #ben x richie #richie x ben #monse writes #anon ask #notsfw

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ratedbangtann · 5 years

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"𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫!" | 𝙃𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙤𝙠 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙷𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝...

Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

Word count: 3.5k Warnings: angry sex, rough sex, spitting, dirty talk, degradation, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids, for the love of god...), a hint of consensual non-consent??, very little lubrication, breath deprivation/choking.

a/n: Everything in this fic is consensual. Yes, this is angry sex. Yes, it's spur of the moment. But please know that if y/n had ever wanted Hoseok to stop what he was doing, she would just need to tell him, and he would. Thank you. Enjoy.

"You can be such an asshole sometimes," you huffed, slamming the kitchen cupboards in the hunt for whichever saucepan you needed to make the dinner you begrudgingly decided to make for Hoseok and yourself.

"Me? You've been acting like a little bitch for days. What is it, PMS?" he yelled angrily.

At this point, neither of you knew what you were fighting about. Hoseok had done something wrong, you were sure of that, but frankly you had no idea what it was. It had been so long since, but you were still stewing, just from the cockiness and sheer arrogance he protruded. His 'can do no wrong' impression of himself was pissing you off beyond belief.

"Ever think to ask why, Hoseok? Hmm? No, of course not. You never do anything wrong; nothing is ever your fault... Prince fucking Hoseok is right again," you spat, slamming the saucepan onto the stove to fill with the chicken stock you had already made up in a jug.

"What is your problem? Is it 'cause I've been working so much again? You know there's nothing I can do about that, y/n..." It always came back to this. No, it was never the reason. Sure, it sucked; but you never got mad about it, never got pissy. There was no need; you kept yourself busy and he was living his dream. You'd always supported that.

You just rolled your eyes at him, pushing past him to collect the jug of chicken stock to pour into the pan.

"When have I ever used that against you?" you retorted. "Never. I have never said that."

"You don't need to say it, your attitude says it all," he raised his voice at you and immediately your defences went up.

"Attitude? I didn't fucking do anything, Hoseok! You come home every day fucking moody as shit with me after preaching to the damn world that you're 'they're hope', but you act like such a-" you were interrupted by the slam of the kitchen door. Hoseok had left, storming off to the bedroom in a fit of rage. You'd attacked his philosophy, his mantra; was that too far?

Possibly, but you couldn't even entertain the idea that you had done anything wrong right now. Not when he acted the way he did with you. So instead, you ignored the situation and focussed on cooking, whether he was going to eat it with you or not. He at least couldn't throw in your face that you hadn't made him any food...

Like the stew on the boil, your anger bubbled away and festered deep in you. How dare he treat you like shit every damn day and then blame you? At first you had thought it was simply frustration from work, but it never usually carried on this long. Hobi loved what he did, and he was so disgustingly optimistic that it threw you to see him in a constant state of agitation.

"Dinner!" You yelled into the open, setting the bowls of stew down across from each other at the table. You heard movement upstairs, footsteps on the landing and down the steps as he stomped down them, clearly still reeling.

You sat in your seat and started your food, completely ignoring his presence when he dropped into the chair in front of you wordlessly. You didn't even look up, only knowing it would piss him off more. If there was one thing Hoseok hated, it was being ignored.

So that's exactly what you did. You tucked into your stew, eyes never bothering to wonder even a little to look up at Hoseok sat opposite you. You looked unbothered; not pissed off, not upset, not completely heartbroken like he had hoped you would be, just a little bit, but completely and utterly indifferent.

If he were to compare you to anything, he'd say you were acting like a mother in a supermarket who was sick and tired of her child having a tantrum, still going about her daily errands with the screams and stomps of a toddler behind her.

It enraged him.

He stared at you, eyes boring into the top of your head. His pupils dilated, his irises a deeper shade of chocolate than that of a calm Hoseok. If looks could kill, you'd have been face-first in your bowl, life drained out of you. Perhaps if you looked into his eyes right now, it would have the same effect as Medusa herself.

As he watched you eat, occasionally lifting a spoonful of broth to his own mouth, his anger only grew. How could you ignore him like this? Hadn't you been upset at all? Did it not bother you that he was pissed off?

He wanted a rise out of you, and he was getting nothing back.

He started tapping his fingers on the table, annoyingly so. He was doing anything he could to get a reaction now, pathetically trying his hardest to annoy you further. But you let it slide, like water off a duck's back.

He could feel his face getting hotter, his eye starting to twitch. You remained indifferent.

Hoseok gave up on eating his food, instead he leaned on the table by his elbows, his spoon dangling between his fingers as he watched you intently. He chewed his bottom lip until it was sore, the flesh throbbing and red.

Suddenly he dropped his spoon to the table, making your shoulders jump a little at the clatter of metal on wood but you still never looked up. You just sipped on another mouthful of stew, slipping into what you could only describe as feeling absolutely tiny; threatened, almost.

He ran his hands through his hair and sat forward, leaning on both elbows with his hands clasped tightly together, thumb sticking out as he bit on the nail. He needed a reaction out of you; that little jump at the noise he made was not enough, it would never be enough.

The fury bubbled and brewed and rose inside him, tipping him over the edge until eventually, he snapped.

Suddenly, he slammed his forearms on the table, his fists colliding with the wood making the cutlery and crockery laid out clatter and jump under the force. You looked up at him immediately, eyes wide and heart racing at his outburst. He was never like this, never got this angry... The expression on his face was one of menace, looking at you as if he hated you with every fibre of his being. He had managed to wind himself up so much that he exploded beyond what he ever had with you.

"FUCK this!" he yelled, with another final punch to the table as he stood up so quickly, kicking his chair back so hard it fell and hit the wall behind him. He strode around the table to where you sat as you looked at him with a terrified expression on your face. You weren't sure what he was going to do, but of course, you trusted him to never do anything that would ever hurt or frighten you for real.

Hoseok was a master of intimidation and you expected him simply to hover over you and demand an apology, but not tonight. He didn't want that.

Instead he kicked the leg of your chair to angle you toward him, swiped the almost empty bowl of stew and the cutlery accompanying it until it fell off the table and slotted his hands under your arms to pick you up, practically throwing you onto the wooden surface.

"Hoseok, what are you-?" you started but he clamped his hand over your mouth, leaning into hover less than an inch away from your face, your noses so close to touching.

"Shut up," he demanded. "Your attitude is pissing me off, y/n. I've fucking had enough of it." He dropped his hand from your mouth and fumbled to grip onto your thighs, exposed by the rise of the skirt of your dress. He pushed his hands up slowly, forcing you to widen them so he could slot himself between them, bringing himself closer to you.

A thrill ran through you, your hands gripping onto Hoseok's wrists where he held the tops of your thighs.

"I don't have a fucking attitude," you spat, pushing him to his limit. He smiled evilly, his eyes darkening significantly.

"Oh yes you do... And you know what I'm gonna do?" You tilted your chin up a little, urging him to continue. "I'm gonna fuck that attitude right out of you," he growled. Before your body or your mind had any time to react, Hoseok was grabbing your hips and violently dragging them to the edge of the table.

Under your skirt, he ripped the material of your panties so the remnants hung around your thigh, still not completely torn off; that wasn't his concern. He just needed access.

His hands moved so quickly they could have blurred before your eyes, pulling the zipper of his jeans down and popping the button, shoving the denim down with his briefs until they were pulled taught against his thighs. His cock hovered so close to your heat, you wanted it so badly but you knew you weren't ready.

In the absence of foreplay your body didn't have the time to catch up and prepare you for any kind of penetration. It aggravated you more, knowing you needed him.

Apparently, Hoseok had already thought that through. He hocked back a glob of saliva, ducking his head to spit it onto your pussy, pushing his fingers against you to swirl it around. You had to take a deep breath to stop yourself from reacting aloud; watching him preparing you so dirtily would have had you dripping naturally if it weren't happening all so fast.

He'd only ever spat on you once before – with your permission – when he was about to devour your pussy completely, but that was not the purpose of this today. He spat another glob into his free hand, working it along his shaft until he was satisfied that the both of you were lubed enough to proceed.

He grabbed your hips again, his hands still wet and sloppy and lined himself up with your pussy, forcing himself into you. Yes, it burned. Yes, you could have been more prepared. But in the heat of the moment, you just didn't give a shit. If you had stopped him or told him to wait, he would have; there was enough trust in your relationship to know that. But you didn't stop him, you didn't want to.

With the anger coursing through the both of you still, the pain added to the experience. Angry, hot, hate sex was exactly what you fucking needed; both of you.

So when he wasted no time in pulling out of you just to thrust back in with a grunt, you squeezed your eyes shut, bit your lip and forced back a moan that was bubbling in your throat.

A few more harsh, fast thrusts of Hoseok's hips against yours had the burning stretch fading away and that wonderful full feeling taking over instead. His fingers dug into your hips, sure to leave little bruises and crescent moon shapes where his nails poked into the flesh.

His jaw clenched with every thrust, a grunt with each slap of his pelvis against yours. He wasn't sparing any aggression, using you as a way to let it all out, rampant and completely overpowering. He stared down at his cock moving in and out of you, watching the way your pussy dragged him back in and feeling your walls clenching around him. He loved this view; it turned him into a rabid dog, practically foaming at the mouth.

But you wanted him to look at you. You wanted him to see the anger in your face, the rage still burning in you. You knew it would be adding fuel to the fire and that was your exact intention.

You reached forward with one hand, fisting it in his t-shirt and pulling him forward, his face hovering inches from yours. He looked up at you immediately, his brow creased and nose scrunched up in the way he often did when he was angry, or when he hit a particular beat in his choreography.

"What is it, huh? Not fucking you hard enough? Not pounding your dirty little pussy enough?" he taunted, lifting one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the base of your neck, holding onto a fistful of it to pull your head back and expose your neck to him. "You want it harder?"

That was it; you couldn't hold it in anymore. The pleasure of his thrusts, the harshness of his words, the anger in his tone all proved too much to handle and finally, you let out the first of many long, drawn out moans. He smirked at the noise, never letting his hips falter but the grip on your hair tightened which elicited a whine from you, your hand flying up to wrap around his wrist.

You had no problem being fucked like this, no issue with Hoseok letting his anger out like this because it was having the same therapeutic effect on you, and good lord, it felt so good.

"Look at you, huh? All that bitching and moaning and you can't even string together a fucking sentence now," he mocked, before he leaned in and attacked your neck with sloppy kisses, teeth nipping at the skin and biting down every so often.

The heat between your thighs grew and grew and now, your own arousal was spilling onto Hoseok's cock, still thrusting into you without mercy. Hoseok could feel it; the warmth, the wetness... It was driving him wild. His cock was throbbing inside you with need and frankly, you both knew that neither of you were going to last much longer.

"W-why do you... always act, like... like such a... jerk?" you spluttered, not caring that you were only pissing him off more; both of you loved it.

"You gonna talk back to me, huh? Really? In this position? I don't know if you're brave or just fucking stupid," he hissed, pulling his lips from your neck and his hand from your hair only to wrap it around your throat and force you to look at him again.

He pressed his forehead to yours, staring menacingly into your eyes and watching as they fell hooded with lust and pleasure, the orgasm stirring in your groin distracting you. You could feel his fingers tightening around your throat, pressing down on those crucial points to limit your air supply, only to cut it off completely.

You tried to grasp for breath, but nothing. You held onto his wrist, feeling the tendons in it hard and unmoving as he fucked into you and held you so damn tight in his hands. Tears pricked at your eyes but you never took them from Hoseok's, letting him stare into your very soul with his tongue sticking out of his mouth and teeth bared to you.

"You gonna cum, huh? Can feel it; you're pulsing on me. Do it, fucking cum..." he commanded and that was all you needed to send you soaring to new heights.

It hit you like a runaway train on a track, shockwaves ricocheting through you just as Hoseok's grip on your throat fell away completely. You dragged in as much oxygen as your lungs would allow, forcing a dizziness on you that only added to the euphoric feeling and rushing endorphins through your system.

Your pussy clenched impossibly tight on Hoseok and he found himself barely able to move, forcing his cock to drag out of you but that drag was ultimately what was going to bring him to his end too.

You went slack in his arms, head lolling back but he wouldn't have it. He held your head up with one hand, the other behind your back to keep you upright but his hips never stopped moving, despite having to find a new rhythm to work to with how tightly your walls were clenching him over and over again.

Your arms hung by your side, too weak to move, like all the energy had been drained from you. Your eyes had rolled into the back of your head and try as he might, he couldn't manage to get you to look at him.

"Hey! Hey, y/n... look at me..." he encouraged, all anger and harshness completely void in his tone. His hips still moved as furiously as they could and his grip on you didn't loosen, but he spoke much softer now, dragging you back from the bliss you had succumbed to.

When you finally looked back to him, you saw his brow still creased, sweat dripping from the end of his nose. His chest heaved and huffed with every deep breath he had to take.

"That's it, good girl. Look at me, y/n. Watch me..." he instructed, so close to his own end. You clenched on him again, using whatever reserves of strength you could find to bring him to his high too.

He pushed his forehead to yours again, groaning like some kind of animal as finally, he hit his orgasm too. Warmth spilled inside of you, his cock twitching as his movements stuttered. His breath felt so hot on your face as he let his groans and grunts out, still trying his best to move his hips and ride out his high until he was completely empty.

You could feel a stickiness between your legs as he pulled out of you now that he was softening. You felt dirty, you felt used but above all you felt satisfied and relieved.

Hoseok hovered above you, forehead still pressed to yours as the two of you caught your breath. He held you in place still, never letting your weak little body fall.

"Hobi..." you whined, using hit pet name for the first time in over a week. It made him soften up completely, all tension releasing from his body as he looked up into your eyes to see them glistening, close to tears. Your bottom lip trembled, and you honestly felt like you were going to break down.

The last week or two had been horrendous; you hated fighting with Hobi but the two of you were just so stubborn you couldn't back down and admit when you were in the wrong. It was a trait you shared and every so often, it would be an obstacle you had to overcome.

"Shh, I'm here baby, I'm here..." he pulled you to him, letting you bury your head into his neck and grip onto his t-shirt, the first of many soft little sobs escaping your chest. "Hey, don't cry... I've got you," he reassured, stroking your hair and peppering soft kisses to the side of your head.

"Don't... wanna fight," you sobbed into his neck.

"Me neither... I'm so sorry, baby. I was an asshole, there was no need for it," he admits and honestly, a weight lifted from your shoulders. You nodded against him, clinging on.

"I was a bitch too..." you confessed.

"Doesn't matter. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry..." you pushed off his chest to sit up, looking up at him. He also had tears threatening to fall in his eyes, his features far softer now than they had been a few moments ago.

He tucked your hair behind your ear and trailed his fingers along your jawline to where your bottom lip pouted outward a little. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours with gentility, planting a sweet and lingering kiss to them.

"I love you..." he mumbled, almost ashamed of himself. He sounded small and hoped that you would accept the smallest of declarations that he could give to you in this moment. But he did feel ashamed of himself; for making you feel like this, for taking his frustrations out on you when there was no need for it, and nothing you had done had contributed to it in the slightest.

"I love you too, Hobi..." you leaned forward to press your lips to his again, just briefly. "Need a shower..." you whined, still very aware of the stickiness between your thighs that was starting to dry.

Hoseok took a step back, letting go of you to pull his jeans back up his hips and just do up the button, leaving the fly down. He'd be taking them off again shortly anyway. Scooping you up in his arms, he carried you upstairs to the bathroom so that he and he alone could take you into the shower, clean you off and spend the rest of the evening taking care of the girl he loved so dearly.

He had a lot of making up to do, and this is where he was going to start.

#hoseok #jung hoseok #hobi #jhope #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts au #smut au #angry sex #established relationship #breathplay #choking

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sunflowerhazzavol6 · 4 years

Text

Veto- Chapter One

To Genevieve, morning always seemed to be the cruelest part of the day.

Nighttime was easy. Any and all responsibility was just beyond her apartment door, the only thing left up to her at that point being what she was going to feed herself and what kind of alcoholic beverage she was in the mood for. Typically it was something mixed with vodka and some sort of take-out, or food brought home from work. She could just settle down into her worn couch, lint pebbling on its almost too-comfortable surface, and tune into the blue light that was her TV. The perfect evening to shut out a usually less than perfect day. If that wasn’t exactly the speed she was going for, she would let that responsibility tap it's probably clubbed foot on the outside of a club entrance, Genevieve dancing on top of a table with her best friends while they took turns taking shots. This of course added to the pain of mornings, her hangover rearing its head as soon as she opened her eyes. That was what made this one in particular so gruesome.

She blinked her eyes open, immediately squinting at the light drifting in through her window. She had blackout curtains for this reason exactly, but last night in her drunken haze she had forgotten to close the blinds in order to protect herself from this exact occasion. She knew she was paying for it now, burying her nose back into her pillow and letting out a strong exhale. Outside she could hear the construction crew that was already bang-bang-banging on the complex that was being built next door. While the noise bothered her to no end in the beginning of her lease, she had grown used to it and knew that it was the reason her rent was so cheap in the first place. Even the catcalling had become white noise, but she still held up a middle finger most days when she walked by to do her laundry. This morning the jackhammering reminded her of the pile overflowing from the basket, and she let out an audible groan before pushing herself up and out from under the covers.

Six months ago she had dropped out of school, packed up all her shit, and moved to a place just outside of Malibu. Cecilia, her best friend from high school, had moved there immediately after graduating with her boyfriend at the time. While they ultimately ended up breaking things off, she stayed there to work and enjoy the sun and freedom that came along with the California heat. When Genevieve had called her for probably the thirtieth time, having an anxiety attack about not being happy or knowing the true direction of her life, Cece had suggested that she move down to the West Coast to figure things out. Within a week she had officially unenrolled from the business school at NYU, dyed her brown hair blonde in a Tesco bathroom, and packed her tan colored 2007 Subaru Forester to trek across the country. She camped in her car along the way, grateful for the couple before her who had tinted the windows. She didn’t tell her mom what she had done until she was pulling onto the Pacific Coast Highway, receiving an earful that ultimately ended as soon as her back tire popped and she had to pull over. She didn’t see why it mattered anyways, leaning against the dirty vehicle while she waited for the AAA guy to pull up and save her ass. Her mom couldn’t afford to help her with school, and so really the only money at stake was her own. That was a whole other tier of stress on her shoulders; the student loan debt that she still had to pay off despite her lack of degree. She was relieved to get her own place after staying with Cece for two weeks, but even after she pushed open the door to her new apartment, the discontentment that she had felt in New York lingered in her head like a fog. It was bearable now, though, and so she took that as a sign that she was taking the right step.

She stands on the cool linoleum flooring designed to look like hardwood, stretching her hands into the air and hearing her spine pop. The rush of blood circulating through her body makes her head throb, causing her to release a pathetic whine and hold her hand to her forehead. She grabs her glasses from her nightstand, putting them on and pulling open the drawer to find god’s gift to the earth. The bottle of Tylenol rolls to the edge of the drawer, it’s only occupant besides an Altoids tin with condoms in it. She grabs the bottle and pops it open, shaking out two pills before throwing her head back to toss them in. She pops her head under the sink in her bathroom to swallow them down, wiping the bit of water that escapes with the back of her hand. Genevieve then gets ready for the day, peeing and brushing the fuzzy feeling and stale alcohol from her teeth. After getting dressed in a somewhat-clean Led Zeppelin t-shirt and shorts she grabs her laundry basket, her keys, and heads out of her studio onto the walkway outside.

Hidden Hills apartment complex was an old motel that had been converted into a low-income housing space, which had then just been converted into the complex that it was today. It was really nice for the price point and the area, and Gene was incredibly grateful that she had found it while it was still available. When she had moved in the owners had just finished remodeling and had begun work on the buildings that were going up now. Apparently they had knocked down the walls in between two motel rooms to create each space, making it a decent size for one person or a couple. The more expensive suites had become two bedroom apartments across the parking lot, so there were a few small families that lived there too. For the most part, though, it was people just like her who were calling it a rest stop on their way to something better.

When she walks into the small laundry building attached to the main complex, she’s greeted by an older man in his early sixties hanging up colorful speedos to air dry in the corner. Victor was two doors down from her, and had lived here for at least the last two owners as far as she knew. He never really disclosed how long he had been there, though, which was very purposeful on his part. It wasn’t because he was ashamed by his living situation, being the oldest in the complex by at least thirty-five years. Victor absolutely romanticized the mystery he had created, introducing himself as a flaming homosexual from the south who had participated in the Stonewall Riots of 1969. When he found out that she had moved from New York City herself, he immediately took her under his wing and became the strange gay uncle she never had. Other than his horrible habit of sunbathing in the nude on his balcony, she really liked him and valued his insights and advice on life in general.

“Well would you look at who the cat dragged in! You look something horrible, Genevieve.” He says when he sees her, crossing his arms over his wife beater and kimono. He had on bright yellow swimming shorts too, which were inappropriately small for anyone other than him. She winces at his voice, wrinkling her nose while she puts her basket on top of a dryer.

“Don’t talk so loud. I just woke up.”

“My lord Jesus almighty, honey, it's past noon.” He turns back to his pile of wet clothing, pushing them into a dryer. He starts it and watches it spin for a second before leaning against the white metal, turning to look at her. “Have a good night?”

“I’m not sure. Can’t exactly remember all of it.” Gene rubs her temples, putting in her laundry soap and starting the load.

“Those are the best kind.” He smiles at her. “You know, Genevieve, I’m very glad that you’re not a prude introvert who just stays in all the time. Have fun while you can, enjoy that hot, young body of yours to the fullest!” He shimmies his shoulders at her while she rolls her eyes. Despite being a very progressive LGBTQ+ man, he was old fashioned in that he didn’t call her by anything other than her full name. He was firm in his belief that a name was important and said a lot about a person, that it was their identity and was a part of them. Whether the name was given or not, he always called everyone by their name even if they introduced themselves with a preferred nickname. There was a guy that had moved out a few months ago, whose name was actually just Nick, but Victor called him Nicholas anyways. He felt it suited him better, and was more classy. He claimed he would get further in life as a Nicholas over just a Nick, but never really got the chance to find out. Which was just as well.

“Being a prude introvert is not a bad thing.” Gene points out, raising her eyebrows at him. “Isn’t the whole point of personality and sexuality that it’s your own?”

“Aha, my child, you’ve learned so well. I’m giving myself teacher points for that. I’m just merely pointing out that I saw a very good looking young man leaving your apartment at the asscrack of dawn two weeks ago-”

“A month ago.”

He ignores her. “-and I’m very proud of you for embracing this youth that you’ve been blessed with! Not everyone is so intelligent, Genevieve.”

“I hardly think sex is a factor to intelligence.” She laughs, hopping up onto the washer to sit.

“Perhaps not, but it's exercise, and a healthy body is a healthy mind.” He taps his hairline to emphasize his point.

“So are you keeping a healthy body for your healthy mind?” She teases, kicking her legs back and forth.

“Oh pish. Don’t trouble yourself with an old man’s sex life. That’s the last thing you want to hear about.”

“Then stop meddling in mine!” She laughs, reaching her foot out to tap his side affectionately. This draws out a smile, a chuckle escaping his lips wrinkled from thousands of Kent cigarettes.

“You don’t have to do what I say, sugar, but listen just to humor me, alright?” Gene can tell by his tone that this would be something she would want to hear, so she shuts her mouth and does as she’s told. “I’m very glad that you’re so confident in yourself. Even if you don’t think so, you’re more secure in your body and in your looks than the kids your age I’ve met. Definitely more so than I was. But maybe that's because you’re straight.” She cracks a smile at that, and he puts his hand on her knee. “That being said, honey, I don’t want you to shy away from love when it lands at your feet. Take it from an old man who has made many-a-mistake in his lifetime. When something falls in your lap, take it, run with it, and don’t let it go. Don’t chalk it up to a random hook-up just because that’s what you’re used to.”

She recognizes his seldom solemn face, nodding her head. He returns it with a tight-lipped smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m not saying don’t have casual sex, because that would make me a hypocrite. Just… when something comes along, and you can’t quite put your finger on what about it makes it so special… don’t let go, alright? Even if it scares you. Promise me.”

“I promise, Victor.” She puts her hand over his, smiling at him genuinely.

He seems to accept her sentiment, shaking his head with a small smile and moving to grab his laundry basket. “You know sweetheart, I’m going to be very sad when you become too good for this old shack.”

“Please. Even when I do manage to get out of here, I’m comin’ back to visit you and drink all your wine.”

“That’s a girl. Next time let me know when you’ve got back home safe, okay? I worry about you when your car’s gone, honey, it’s not safe for pretty young girls in the dark of the night. You know that.”

“I will. If you don’t sunbathe naked anymore.”

“Unfortunately, Genevieve my dear, you cannot ask an old man to make promises when he’s already set in his ways.”

#Harry Styles #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #Veto #sunflowerhazzavol6

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apparentlynotreallyfinnish · 5 years

Text

Think of Her

Here’s some un-edited, un-betaed college!rhink that just appeared on my Word document when I tried to write a completely different thing. Maybe you’ll like it.

---

Rhett is sitting on his bed and pouting when Link steps into their dorm room. He is buzzing with excited energy, babbling on and on about a particular class he likes and a professor he is obviously in love with. He bounces around the room, throwing his things here and there, discarding his t-shirt on the floor, going to his drawer, picking out a new shirt, pulling it on and apparently, deciding he’s made a grave error. His nose scrunches up and he sniffs his armpit. That t-shirt ends up on the floor as well but Link doesn’t bother to get another one. Instead he marches to their cupboard and takes out a box of cereal. All the while he’s gushing about the professor and the class. Rhett is irritated beyond belief.

“What have you been up to today?” Link asks as he sinks on the couch and pours himself a huge bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Rhett just crosses his arms across his chest and growls. Link’s gaze immediately snaps to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Rhett mutters and feels stupid as the word slips out. Obviously Link can see something is bothering him. So, he continues: “Everything.”

“Tell me,” Link orders mouth full of Crunch. Rhett closes his eyes and tries to drone out the sounds that seem to penetrate his soul.

“Just…I don’t know. It’s all stupid stuff. Practice sucked today and I managed to fall on my face in the cafeteria. And I got a C on that paper. I worked so hard on it but apparently it was uninspired and redundant.”

“Aww, man, I’m sorry. Sounds like one of those days. Tomorrow will be better. Besides, everyone knows Professor Miller is a hard-ass. C from him is basically an A.”

Rhett huffs, annoyed, because he knows Link is right. But he had been so proud of what he’d written and certain he’d get at least a B.

“Also, Claire cancelled our date. She claimed she wanted to concentrate on her studies. And I mean fine, that’s okay. But then I saw her kissing a guy on the courtyard so…she’s either studying dentistry now and was doing some intense homework or she was just lying to my face,” Rhett mumbles.

Honestly, the Claire thing stings way more than any of the other stuff. He’d gotten a bit ahead of himself with Claire, imagining all kinds of futures together after their first few dates. Seeing her with the guy had been like a gut punch.

“Shit, that sucks,” Link says sympathetically. He’s straightened his back and abandoned the rest of his cereal to slowly soften. He is looking at Rhett with an expression Rhett can’t read. His eyes are lit up - he almost looks excited - but he’s gnawing on his bottom lip and wiggling his leg anxiously.

“What?” Rhett asks with too much sharpness in his voice. He feels bad; it isn’t Link’s fault he’s having a bad day. But Link doesn’t seem to either mind or notice. He gets up and creeps to Rhett’s desk next to their bunk bed. Link’s eyes wander over the desk and he picks up a pencil, twirls it between his fingers a bit before putting it down and picking up a text book. Rhett frowns as he looks at Link twiddling with his things. Just as he is about to ask what Link is doing, Link mutters, without looking at Rhett.

“I could help you.”

“With what?” Rhett asks confused. The paper is already done and it isn’t like Link can help him with practice. Sometimes you just have bad days, it’s normal. And Link definitely can’t help with Claire. After watching her play tonsil tennis with a guy with a ponytail Rhett doesn’t even want her back anymore.

“I could help you feel better…help you relax,” Link whispers, still staring at the text book. A faint blush has crept on his cheeks. Rhett’s own cheeks immediately heat up and suddenly, he feels parched.

“You mean…?” Rhett asks with a hoarse voice.

“Yeah.”

Rhett feels a bit faint. A memory after memory resurfaces in his mind and he feels like hiding his crotch under a pillow. But that would be too obvious. He tries to appear nonchalant as he says:

“We decided not to do that anymore.”

“You decided. I… Anyway. What does it matter?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Link presses on. He’s looking straight at Rhett now and Rhett feels like squirming under his intense gaze. God, have his eyes always been that piercing blue? They seem almost otherworldly.

“Because,” is all Rhett manages to answer. As his dick hardens, his resolve crumbles.

“Because why?”

“Because it’s gay,” Rhett says the word under his breath, barely audible. Link snorts.

“It’s not gay if we’re not gay,” he says, like it means something. Rhett frowns.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Neither does saying no to something you clearly want. And need.”

“I don’t need it!” Rhett says aghast. That’s a bit much.

It’s not like I know how long it has been since the last time. (Two months and four days.)

It’s not like I think about Link when I go to bed every night. (He touches himself after he is sure Link is asleep.)

It’s not like I actually want him in any way. (He still hasn’t touched Link and it’s slowly killing him.)

“No?” Link asks putting the text book down and taking a step so that he’s right at the edge of Rhett’s bottom bunk.

“No,” Rhett replies with a shaky voice. He watches with wide eyes as Link sinks on his knees in front of the bed. The simmering heat inside Rhett’s stomach ignites into a blazing roar. His cock is straining against his boxer briefs, its outline clearly visible through the thin basketball shorts. Link’s hand settles on Rhett’s bare knee and starts to inch up. Rhett’s skin is buzzing with the sensation.

“I know this always makes you feel better. Helps you relax. Helps you sleep. Let me make it better, Rhett,” Link is coaxing him with a silky voice as his hand slips inside the loose pant leg of Rhett’s shorts.

We shouldn’t. (Link’s hand is so soft.)

We’re good Southern boys. (Link’s voice is soft too.)

Think of all the people we’d disappoint. (Link’s mouth is going to be even softer.)

Rhett’s shorts have been pulled mid-thigh and his cock has been drawn out of his boxer. It’s leaking precum and twitching in Link’s hands. Link is licking the head as his eyes are flitting between Rhett’s cock and Rhett’s face. Rhett’s hands are on Link’s shoulders; he’s not sure if he’s about to push him away or pull him closer.

“Fuck,” Rhett mutters voice strained and gravelly. Link looks up at him again and says: “It’s okay. You don’t have to look. Just close your eyes and think of her.”

Rhett’s eyes flutter close as Link’s soft, wet heat envelops Rhett’s cock. He bucks into his best friend’s mouth and gasps for air. He can feel Link hollow his cheeks, he can feel the pressure build, and he can feel Link hum against his overexcited skin.

It’s too much this time. It’s been too long. The waiting has been torture and now he’s in heaven. Link moves around his cock slowly, methodically, pumping Rhett with his spit-slicked fist as his mouth is fast making a ruin out of Rhett’s mind and soul.

Rhett feels the tears on his cheeks before he even realizes he’s crying.

Link stops. The warm softness of him is replaced by the sharp chill of the room and Rhett whines.

“Don’t stop,” he whimpers, not daring to open his eyes. It’s like he’s afraid that all of this has been a dream again.

“Rhett,” Link whispers, voice weirdly wet and saturated; Rhett’s cock is a ghost on his lips making his lisp more pronounced. Shiver runs through Rhett and he opens his eyes. He pats his eyelids, tries to focus his swimming vision to see the boy between his legs.

“Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” Link asks. He sounds worried.

Rhett sniffs pathetically, embarrassed over the fact that all of a sudden his soul has been laid barer than his cock that’s still throbbing between his legs, uncaring of the emotional turmoil going on above it.

“C’mere,” Rhett beckons voice thick with emotion. Link’s eyes widen and he awkwardly climbs into Rhett’s lap, crushing Rhett’s dick between them and making Rhett moan and push against him.

“What’s wrong?” Link whispers. He looks at Rhett like he’s afraid he’ll break at any moment. Rhett thinks he might be onto something. He’s never felt this fragile before.

Rhett lifts his hands. They tremble as he cups Link’s face. Link responds without much prompting and closes the distance between them. Rhett tastes himself on Link’s lips. He doesn’t care. They fall onto the bed; shaky breaths and whispered words. Link is everywhere. He’s tugging Rhett closer. His hands are making Rhett bolder. His words are making Rhett stronger.

This can’t be wrong. (It feels like fate.)

It took me too long to let myself love him. (It was inevitable.)

They’ll learn to love us like this. (How could anyone hate something so pure?)

Link’s hands find Rhett’s impatient cock again.

“Don’t think of her,” Link pleads against Rhett’s neck.

“I won’t,” Rhett breaths.

“Think of me,” Link continues as his hands move with familiar pressure.

“Always have,” Rhett confesses with a whimper.

Link groans as Rhett’s hand palms the bulge in his jeans. They move away from each other, just enough to release Link from the confines of his pants. A wide smile spreads across Rhett’s face as his hands wrap around Link’s length.

“I’ve dreamt of this. Dreamt of touching you. Dreamt of making you cum. Dreamt of making you mine,” Rhett whispers making Link whine and thrust his hips against Rhett’s eager hands.

“Tell me your mine,” Link orders voice rough and breathless.

“Yours. Only yours!” Rhett cries out and finds Link’s lips again with his own. They breathe into each other’s mouths, barely kissing but needing to be as close as they can.

Rhett comes first, calling out Link’s name in the peak of his passion. It still echoes off the walls as Link follows him over the edge.

Their breaths slow down. Their hands still. Their eyes open.

They look at each other and smile.

#rhink #rhink fic #college!rhink #internalized homophobia #angst #smut #fluff?#it's a mess #but it's a rhinky mess #Appa writes fic

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starlightments · 5 years

Text

Perfect Fit

written by starlightment

In honor of today being Julance’s “Garrison Trio” day, I thought it’d be appropriate to finally post the fic I wrote for @cosmicdustzine! Featuring everyone’s favorite underdog flight crew :’)

Lance stares miserably into his bedroom mirror. Tilts his head to one side. Then the other. Blinks. Shuffles his feet, and wiggles his fingers. Blinks again.

His reflection, naturally, does the same.

It’s too small, he decides at once, and he’s right. The crisp, perfectly starched cuffs of his brand new Galaxy Garrison uniform barely reach the middle of his wrists. Lance supposes this is what he deserves for waiting up until the final deadline to place his size order. And for that unforeseen growth spurt over the summer, stretching him out at least an extra three inches.

Great, Lance thinks again, tugging at those godforsaken sleeves. He’s too big for his uniform, and too big for this bedroom, with its rocket ship bedsheets, and mason jar full of seashells, and the sleek mahogany acoustic his dad just got him for his fourteenth birthday. It’s a young boy’s room — not a cadet’s.

And yet, here he stands, wide-eyed and garishly orange. The program starts in a month. Textbooks have been purchased, and dorm assignments have been given out, and Lance still feels like this is some big fluke. Like a glitch in the system. Like he doesn’t fit.

But he has to fit.

When his grip unfurls, the fabric of his sleeves spring back up his wrists. Useless. He twitches, and pouts, and squirms, and just keeps staring until he realizes some time has passed, and he hears Rachel banging on his door, yelling at him to come down for dinner.

His reflection, naturally, does the same.

* * * * * *

On the very first day of classes, Lance gets lost on his way to Aviation 101, and wonders, darkly, if this is the Garrison’s sick, watered-down version of hazing. Weed out the weaklings who can’t even navigate these convoluted halls, let alone entire solar systems.

He curses at himself, vehemently, schedule sheet wrinkled in his sweaty clutches, all the way to the North Wing.

The lecture has already begun by the time Lance finally stumbles through the door, breathless and mortified beyond belief. He slips into the back row all by himself because it’s not like he has any friends he can cozy up to just yet. So far, the only person Lance has had the so-called pleasure of meeting is his roommate — a smug-looking kid named James, who actually had the audacity to laugh when he caught Lance pinning posters of star constellations and the Cuban flag over his bed — and it’s not like Lance would’ve wanted to sit by that guy, anyway.

“McClain,” his instructor — a gruff and notorious hard-ass by the name of Iverson — shouts from the front of the room.

Desks creak and chairs squeak as every single head swivels around to gawk in Lance’s direction. He slithers down in his seat, pretends not to notice how their eyes burn straight through his skin.

“Y-Yes, sir,” he whimpers.

“McClain,” Iverson says again, narrowing his beady eyes. “As in Veronica. Correct?”

Lance swallows around something thick and bitter inside his throat, and manages to get out another feeble, “Yes, sir.”

“She was in my class for her first year, too. One of our brightest minds,” the man goes on. “Hardworking. Responsible. Diligent.”

“Yes, sir,” repeats Lance, just a pathetic shiver of sound.

“It’s a shame that not all good traits run in the family.”

From somewhere near the front row, someone snorts out loud, and Lance feels every muscle, every bone inside his body shrivel up into nothing. He bites down on his lip until he tastes blood, balls up his fists until his nails dig into skin, and holds his breath until he can’t feel the sting of emotion pricking the corners of his eyes anymore.

Then the class resumes, just like that, and Lance feels left behind, tugging roughly at his sleeves.

* * * * * *

Stupid, Lance’s mind chants in a rabid frenzy as he bursts into the second-floor men’s restroom. Stupid, stupid, stupid —

With his big, clunky, perfectly-regulation boots squelching against the tiled floor, he all but throws himself into one of the empty stalls, slamming the door shut so that it rattles on its flimsy hinges. He sits down on the toilet lid, face buried into his trembling hands, and he thinks, resoundingly — god, this is low. This is the lowest of the low. Pathetic. Disgraceful. And so, so stupid.

Stupid for the knot in his throat, and the tears streaking hot trails down his cheeks. Stupid for the ache in his chest that throbs like the swollen tides of home. Stupid for thinking he could find his place here, amongst a school of brilliant minds and skilled prodigies, who look at Lance as if they can smell the inferiority on him like a billow of smoke. Stupid for hiding behind a uniform that isn’t made for him. Stupid for wanting to call his mother, and tell her he’s sorry because he needs to come home, and he needs to keep his dreams out of the stars, and he’s scared that he’ll never, ever make her proud.

A sob writhes its way past Lance’s lips, quivering and quiet, but he clamps down on it, hard, knowing that if he starts he might not be able to stop. So, sniffling, his fingers grapple at the toilet paper dispenser, pulling at nothing but a bare cardboard roll because — of course. Naturally. He’s seconds away from resorting to his sleeve as a tissue when he feels something soft and timid nudging at his ankle.

Lance resists the embarrassing urge to jump or gasp in surprise, and, instead, glances down to find —

A hand.

All plump, brown skin with fingernails that look like they’ve maybe been nibbled on. It’s reaching out from the next stall over, offering a wad of crumpled up toilet paper.

Lance stares at it, dumbfounded.

“Not to be an eavesdropper here, but, uh… just in case you need some —”

“Um, thanks,” says Lance, snatching the handful of toilet paper, and — damn, could he sound more wrecked right now? It has to be painfully obvious that he’s locked himself away in here to bawl his eyes out, like a loser. And this guy is just too polite to point it out. Part of Lance is grateful for it, but most of him is just downright humiliated.

The hand disappears, and Lance dabs silently at his eyes and nose before clearing his throat, and trying again: “Sorry, man. I didn’t think — I thought I was alone in here.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” the guy tells him a bit breezily. “I wasn’t even gonna say anything — just kinda let you, y’know, do your thing. But I would’ve felt pretty bad leaving you hanging, so.”

“Thanks,” Lance repeats.

“Sure, dude. Anytime.”

Silence. Lance counts his breaths until they start coming out even, and his neighbor must be able to hear it, all ragged and strangled, because suddenly he’s piping up again.

“So, uh — bad day?” he wonders tentatively.

Lance hiccups around some sad excuse for a scoff. “The worst. Iverson basically ripped me a new one in front of the whole class.”

“I accidentally hit my engineering partner in the head with a wrench, and then puked all over my instructor’s shoes.”

“Wow,” Lance croaks. “You win.”

They both chuckle weakly, and Lance feels something loosen slightly in his chest.

“Yeah, could’ve just been first day jitters,” the guy goes on, “or it could’ve been that mystery meat casserole from the cafeteria. Man, I would kill for some of my mom’s home-cooking.”

“Aw, man, don’t even remind me,” groans Lance. “Now all I can think about are garlic knots.”

“Ooh, or burritos.”

“Mac and cheese —”

“—And pizza!” they end up exclaiming at the same time, which promptly spurs them into a bout of unbridled laughter. Lance’s cheeks rise and brighten beneath the tear stains.

“My name’s Hunk, by the way,” the guy says eventually.

“Lance,” he replies with a wet, happy sniffle. “Y’know, we should just order a pizza sometime. It definitely won’t beat the stuff from home, but it’s better than nothing, right?”

Hunk sighs longingly. “I’m down for anything that’s not grey and swimming in lumpy gravy.”

And Lance can’t quite explain it, but he feels something settle — in the air, in his mind. And he feels, for the first time all day, like maybe things won’t be so awful, after all.

* * * * * *

The next time Iverson screams in his face, Lance takes it like a champ.

Well. Kind of.

“I hope I don’t need to remind you,” the man sneers, nostrils flared, jaw clenched, “that the only reason you’re here is that the best pilot in your class had a discipline issue and flunked out.”

Lance shivers down to the bone, hairline dappling with sweat, legs going numb beneath him, but he does not break — and, right now, he considers that a win. He remembers all the times he could’ve — and did — and then allows himself a fleeting swell of pride at how far he’s come. He stands here now, slightly older, taller, newly steeled. Still clawing and searching for something to hold fast to. Something that fits.

The next squadron of cadets file into the simulator, and Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are shuffled to the back of the line again. Their pace is heavy and slow with shame. And, in Pidge’s case, rage. Every muscle inside her tiny body seizes up, standing on edge like an electric jolt. Lance, perhaps unwisely, reaches for her elbow.

“So that was pretty wack, huh —”

She jerks away, sharply and at once. “What’s pretty wack is that they actually let an idiot like you sit in the pilot’s chair.”

“Hey, look, we’re supposed to be a team here,” Lance argues. “If we go down, we go down together, got it? So don’t shove all the blame on me just ‘cause you couldn’t handle my skills!”

“Well, those supposed skills of yours are the reason why we crashed!”

“Guys, guys, c’mon,” Hunk pleads, stepping between them. “Can’t we just agree it was kind of a group effort fail? I mean, this is exactly what Iverson is talking about. If we can’t learn to work together, then there’s no hope for us.”

Arms crossed, and lips pouting, Lance heaves a weighty sigh, and admits, “Hunk’s right. This calls for some emergency bonding time. I’m talkin’ drinks, ladies, a night out on the town — the works. How about we —”

“Whatever you’re planning, count me out.”

Pidge turns, and starts stomping toward the exit with Lance on the pursuit.

“Dude, get a grip,” he calls out to her. “After a day like today? What you need is some fun. A night to loosen up with your pals —”

“I’m not here to make friends!” is what she flings out, whirling around to pin him with a glare that pierces like a bullet. And Lance feels it, stopping dead in his tracks, stunned from the stinging whiplash of it all. Then, her voice lowers, slipping past her gritted teeth: “Especially not with some arrogant prick like you.”

She storms off, and Lance — older, taller, newly steeled — still does not break.

But, damn, if it doesn’t hurt.

* * * * * *

The stars look different out here.

But, then again, drifting out into the endless abyss of deep space is a very far cry from standing on Cuba’s silken shores, with the dark sky hanging overhead, spreading its glitter over the ocean’s rolling surface. There were some nights, Lance recalls, when the sky was so clear, he swore he could reach out and touch those shivering bits of starlight until he could feel them burning his fingertips. Every twinkling light, so close and intimate.

Now, he sits in the center of the Castle’s control room, with his legs outstretched and his neck craned back, staring at the swirling cosmos just beyond the glass barrier that surrounds him. Here, he’s never been closer to the stars. Or farther from home.

Behind him, the door whooshes open. His eyes drift lazily over his shoulder, then back again. Pidge lingers in the doorway. “Hey,” says Lance.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” she asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs, eyes tracing foreign patterns across the sky, “so I thought I’d do some stargazing — but none of these constellations are making any sense to me. Guess we really are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

A pause. Just the quiet hum of the crystal that gleams down from the ceiling, and then:

“Shouldn’t you be resting, too?”

Pidge straightens, looking a bit caught. “Oh, I’m just — couldn’t sleep either. But I didn’t think I’d run into anyone else at this hour,” and there’s a smirk in her voice — just a subtle one — as she adds, “Least of all the guy who never stops complaining about needing beauty sleep. Whatever that means.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be as beautiful as me,” sniffs Lance, and maybe it would’ve been a more effective retort if he weren’t donning his robe and blue lion slippers at present. But still — he stands by his quip.

Chuckling, the sound of Pidge’s footsteps pad closer and closer until she’s lowering herself next to Lance, knees tucked into her chest.

“Man, it never ends, does it?” It’s just a whisper, just a breathless afterthought that he mutters into the pause of their words, as if he weren’t speaking to anyone in particular but himself. “It’s kinda freaky, right? Like, putting everything in perspective. The galaxy’s this big honkin’ thing… and we’re supposed to defend it? Couple weeks ago my biggest responsibility was getting my homework done in time, and now it’s like —”

“Everything’s changed?” guesses Pidge, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, almost ruefully. “But just think about it. I mean, you’re way more help out here than you are back home doing homework and stuff.”

A haunting cavern of his mind wonders: but am I, really?

And, oh, Lance hates how quickly these unsolicited negativities gather inside his head, smothering his thoughts like a dense fog. If he could shake himself free of them, he would, but there’s something about sitting here — beneath a vast skyscape of planets and moons and sparkling nebula — that makes him feel exponentially smaller than he ever thought possible. Just a flicker of life, tragically outshined by every star in the galaxy. For the briefest of moments, he idly wonders if Pidge ever feels the same way, but — no. Of course not. Not someone with an invaluable brain like hers.

So Lance swallows it all down, through the dryness of his throat, and mumbles a faint, “Sometimes I think they picked the wrong guy, y’know?”

“They didn’t.” Her response is immediate, and takes Lance by surprise. He tears his gaze away from the sky, and stares at Pidge in the half-light, eyes blown wide. “And you proved that the other day when you helped take down Sendak, when you saved Coran —”

Her words spark flames along his skin — tiny pricks of memory that converge and bloom around his shoulder blades, where a starburst scar now mars his flesh. The brand of a newly fledged soldier. Something even hours in a healing pod couldn’t take away from him.

“You put your life on the line for us, Lance,” she tells him firmly. “You could’ve died. You could’ve —”

All at once, she turns away, pressing her face into her knees.

Lance blinks, speaks soft. “Pidge?”

“Just —” she grumbles, sounding muffled and choked up. And when she eventually glances up again, it’s to furrow her brow, and shove at Lance’s shoulder until he nearly topples over. “—just be more careful next time, you big dummy, okay?”

Lance takes one look at her glossy-eyed gaze, and laughs, deep from his stomach. His arm flops around her tiny frame, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, clinging to the soft fabric of his robe, nestling against him.

“Aw, squirt,” he coos, while the universe glows above their heads, “you do care.”

* * * * * *

Somehow, he finds himself on a beach.

Which instantly strikes him as odd because, last he remembers, they were all lifting that crazy robeast straight into the stratosphere, and then nosediving right back down to Earth, bracing for impact, but — okay. Beach. Lance can roll with that.

Below him, the sand is rich and butter-soft between his toes. Behind him, waves lick the edge of the shoreline in a gentle, rolling rhythm. And all around him, thick summer heat clings to his skin, swarming him all at once.

And there, right before him, is home.

His home.

That small, idyllic cottage by the water hasn’t aged a single day, it seems. The same wispy white curtains frame every window. His abuela’s antique rocking chair still sits out on the wooden deck. His mother’s laundry still hangs out to dry on the clothes line, fluttering in the crisp ocean breeze. He can still hear the giggles of his nieces and nephews, and see the same tree branch he fell out of and broke his wrist when he was eight. It’s like he never even left. It’s like —

Lance takes a slow stride forward, and then the entire house goes up in flames.

Burning. Raging. Destroying.

“No,” Lance tries to say, but no sound comes out. He watches in sheer, debilitating panic as the roof collapses, crumbles, caves in on everything he’s ever known. The smell of smog fills his lungs, chokes him until his throat is raw and there’s blood on his tongue. Another silent scream rips out of his chest as he starts to run, but the sand is suddenly sinking below him, swallowing him whole, dragging him under, under, under —

Then Lance wakes up.

He sits up with a gasp on his lips, and a shudder in his heart. The stark white bedsheets are wrinkled in his iron grasp, the thin fabric of his hospital attire sticking to his spine, slightly damp with perspiration. Eyes darting back and forth in the darkness, Lance can feel his breath returning to him at last. He’s still here. They really did it. Earth is safe. Everyone is safe. It was only a nightmare.

It takes his mind a delayed second to catch up to reality, and, in that time, the lights flicker on. Lance squints, startled, as something small, fast, and wiggly scurries onto his bed, and then starts panting in his face, licking his cheeks.

“Bae Bae!” Lance laughs, squirming and writhing happily against the bull terrier’s show of affection.

“Well, look who’s finally awake!”

That’s when something else small, fast, and wiggly leaps onto Lance’s bed, but this something is decidedly Pidge-shaped. As Bae Bae scampers around by his feet, Pidge throws her arms around Lance, and he responds with a quiet ‘oof’.

“Jeez, give a guy some warning before you koala attack him outta nowhere,” grunts Lance.

Pidge only squeezes harder. “Nope.”

“See, Pidge? Told you the smell of pizza would wake him up.”

Then, from the doorway, Hunk comes marching through with a grin on his face, and about three pizza boxes stacked in his arms. Bae Bae rushes to greet him first, jumping and yipping around his legs.

“Hunk, my hero,” cries Lance, pressing his palms together, and throwing his gaze to the ceiling. “My savior! The greatest paladin of them all!”

“The pineapple one’s all yours, buddy,” says Hunk.

“Gross,” snorts Pidge.

It takes them no time at all to devour all three of those pizzas, even sparing a few slices of pepperoni for Bae Bae to enjoy. It’s with Hunk on the edge of his bed, and Pidge curled up to his right, and melted cheese on his fingertips that Lance finally feels at peace. It’s with a brimming heart, and a satisfying warmth in his gut, and a smile splitting his face in two that Lance thinks — this.

This, he thinks again with profound momentousness.

This fits.

#star writes #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #hunk garrett #garrison trio

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keenerparkerstark · 6 years

Text

All I see is green (5/?)

All I see is green (4/?)

Ship: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Summary: Peter Parker feels on top of the world! Getting good grades in high school, spending time with Tony Stark (!!!) on his weekends, and at night, he roams the city as the hero known as Spider-Man! Everything changes when a new student shows up at Midtown who seems determined to take it all away from him.

AO3 | FF.net

“Slow your roll, asshole, unless you want some extra holes in that body of yours.”

Harley put up his hands, immediately without turning around, and stopped walking, remembering what Tony had told him about the dangers of walking around on your own in New York. He couldn’t help but glance down at the, most likely, ridiculously expensive jacket he was wearing, which Tony had insisted on buying him. Combine this with his lithe, youthful appearance, and you basically had a bright neon sign over his head that says: ‘Rob me, please!’

“I don’t want any trouble,” he states for good measure, and turns his head slightly to try and catch a glimpse of what his attacker is doing. He barely caught sight of a figure with a hoodie drawn over his cap, casting an impenetrable shadow over his face, with a black-clad arm reaching out to the back of Harley’s head, when he felt a harsh cold pressure to the back of his head, and flinched away when he realised that it was the barrel of a handgun.

“No funny games,” the figure behind him grunted. “Just slowly reach down, take out your wallet and phone and hand them to me. Don’t even think about turning around, screaming, fighting or running away, because I will put a bullet in your brain before you can finish the thought.” Harley shivered, a lump in his throat making it difficult to breath. His hand trembled as it reached into his jacket pocket, and took out his phone, reaching back to hold it out for the figure to take. It was yanked out of his hands without warning.

“Your wallet,” the voice pressed urgently behind him, “and hand over your watch too.” His watch… Harley’s heart skipped a beat as he was reminded of the elaborate smart watch that sat on his wrist, equipped with all kinds of applications and gadgets, and a panic button that sends a distress signal straight to Tony. Of course!

“M-my wallet is in my backpack,” Harley stuttered out, raising his hands up again. “Let me take off my watch.” Keeping his hands in the air to show that he wasn’t taking out anything else, Harley started fidgeting with the claps of his watch. With as much subtlety as he could muster, he pressed the tiny red knob on his watch, which vibrated gently in acknowledgement. Just as he finished unclasping the watch, another voice echoed through the alley, this time from up high.

“You know, most people don’t really appreciate being held at gun point. You might want to stop that.” Harley let out a sigh as relief washed over him, making his knees buckle under him. He knew that voice… He had heard it hundreds of times before in YouTube videos and the like. Immediately, an arm wrapped around his neck in a choke hold, his own hands involuntarily flying up to desperately grasp at the grip, and he was drawn backwards until his back met the figure’s chest. The cold pressure of the gun has shifted to his temple, and he squeezed his eyes closed in fear as he gasped for breath.

“Get the fuck out of here, Spider-Man, or I’ll put a bullet in this fucking kid!” Harley heard a thud as Spider-Man landed in front of them, but didn’t dare open his eyes, his world narrowed down to the metal against his temple and the arm around his throat. He felt the chest behind him rapidly moving up and down as his attacker takes in one panic breath after another.

“Okay, hey, slow down, there’s no need for that.” Spider-Man’s voice had lost its earlier lightness, and sounded almost stern. “I ain’t looking for trouble if you’re not making it. You got what you wanted. Just let the kid go, and walk away.” Suddenly, Harley felt the gun being taken away from his temple as the figure behind him shoved him aggressively, and he stumbled forward, eyes snapping open and only seeing red and blue as a pair of spandex clad arms caught him gracefully. He looked up at Spider-Man’s mask, but it was facing forward determinedly, as he helped Harley stay upright.

“Stay here, Harley,” he spoke firmly, and he was off, a web slinging him to the furthest end of the alley, where, as Harley now noticed, the perpetrator was making a quick escape. He did not get far, however, as Spider-Man made quick work of webbing up his feet, and dragging him by his lower body towards the wall, continuously shooting webs at him to make the robber stick to it.

Harley let out a shaky breath as all adrenaline seemed to rush out of him simultaneously, and he could barely make it to the wall before his knees gave out entirely, dropping down on the concrete below, which emitted a strong stank of urine. He felt tired beyond belief, and wanted nothing more in that moment than to close his eyes, and fall asleep, be unconscious for a while and wake up in his bed in Tennessee by his sister jumping on his bed, and the smell of freshly fried eggs. He didn’t notice when the tears started falling, but soon enough there were wet patches on his jeans where his face was pressed against his knees, which he had drawn to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible.

A sudden presence beside him startled him, but he calmed down when he realised it was none other than New York’s wallcrawler, sitting on a urine-flooded alley next to a crying teenager who felt home sick. He didn’t even say thank you… Harley started furiously wiping at his eyes, and sniffed a few times before he managed to find some form of composure. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was cut off by Spider-Man, who spoke first.

“I got your phone back.” It was then that Harley noticed the hand that was holding out the phone to him. He took it with a grateful smile, and an unreadable mask with white lenses glared back at him. Say thank you, say thank you, say thank you…

“I’m sorry.” Wait, what? Spider-Man’s head cocked in confusion.

“What are you sorry for, Harley? None of this was your fault.”

“I know, I know, but I should have known better than to- Wait a minute… How do you know my name?” Harley suddenly remembered Spider-Man calling him ‘Harley’ earlier as well, although he had been too out-of-it to notice at the time. Suddenly, the mask was not as unreadable as it had seemed earlier when the white lenses gave away the widening of the eyes underneath. “Uh, I mean, I know all the names of the citizens of New York!”

“What, like Santa Claus, or something,” Harley laughed incredulously, both curious, worried and amused about the situation.

“I mean, would you believe me if I said yes?” Harley just raised an eyebrow in return, slowly feeling the weight on his shoulders lift some more. “Yeah, I figured as much. Okay, so, here’s the truth. Mr. Stark told me about you.” Of course!

“That makes sense. Tony mentioned you to me before too! But don’t worry, nothing about your identity, or anything. Just that you had needed his help.” Spider-Man let out an awkward laugh at that.

“Yeah, Mr. Iron Man and I are what I like to call co-dependant. He needs me as much as I need him.”

“I really don’t, Underoos,” a voice from beside them spoke, uncharacteristically quiet. Both Harley’s and Spider-Man’s heads snapped up at the sound of Tony Stark’s voice, and stared at him as he stood before them, the Iron Man armour only a couple steps behind him, opened up. “I think of it more as a mentor-mentee relationship, where you screw up sometimes, and I try to help you not screw up.”

“Mr. Stark,” Spider-Man laughed, but he was cut off by Harley getting up and launching himself at Tony, trembling from head to toe, the impact of the evening hitting him again at full force at the sight of his pseudo-dad.

“Shh, it’s okay, kiddo,” the older man whispered in his ear, as he pressed him close to his chest. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.” As Harley stood there, tightly wrapped up in Tony’s embrace, a soft thwip was the only thing indicating Spider-Man’s quiet departure from the scene. Distant police sirens could be heard approaching.

“You, my friend, have had the craziest week ever, and that including the one where you were bitten by a radioactive spider and gained superpowers.” Peter groaned pathetically from his position on Ned’s lap, the latter of whom simply ignored him for the sake of stealthing his way across whatever video game he was playing, his hands holding the controller resting on Peter’s chest.

“Tell me about it,” Peter whined. “At least getting bitten by that spider and everything that followed was just facts, you know? This all involves feelings and social behaviour and puberty-”

“As much as you’re my best friend, and I truly sympathise with you,” Ned interjected, as he casually took out at least four other players as he was talking. “I think you’re overthinking this. Be honest with yourself! The answer to all your current problems is right there: just talk to Harley! God knows he could use some friendship after what he went through, and by the way he was hunting you down in school today, it seems he’s really eager to talk to you too.” Peter groaned again, opening his eyes and absentmindedly glancing up at his best friend, who’s full focus seemed to be on the TV screen in front of him. “Something’s holding you back from talking to him though, am I right? What is it?”

What was it? Honestly, Peter wished he could answer that question. Harley genuinely seemed to want to talk things out with him, and after his conversation with Mr. Stark, there was no real grudge that Peter found himself holding against the other teenager. It sounded like the boy was going through a lot, and in his own way, he was standing up for somebody he loved, or, at least, he thought he was. What had happened that evening was intense, much more than anybody should ever have to go through. Peter had been held at gun point more times that he could count, a job hazard, you could call it, but he never got used to the feeling that the person holding the gun could end everything in a split second, no questions asked, no going back. All they had to do was pull the trigger, and it would all be over. Peter squeezed his eyes closed again as his mind flashed with memories of his uncle, lying there surrounded by a puddle of his own blood…

“I don’t know, Ned,” he responded, a slight tremor in his voice giving away his current emotional state. Ned, ever the graceful friend, did not look away from the screen, but dropped one hand away from his controller, and onto Peter’s chest as a sign of comfort. “I want to talk to him, especially after what happened tonight… Mr. Stark will be there for him, but I just want to know if he’s okay, you know? But then again, I wasn’t there. Spider-Man was. And Spider-Man didn’t get into a fight with him about Tony Stark.”

“Having a secret identity is not easy, Peter.”

“I never thought it would be,” Peter sighed in response. “I just want to know what’s holding me back from talking to Mr. Stark and Harley. I want to, I really do, but every single time I think about it, I feel like some freaky disembodied hand is trying to choke the life out of me.”

“Of course, you’re going to feel anxious about it, Pete,” Ned responded, his hand pressing down slightly. “You feel hurt by both of them. But the only way to get rid of that anxiety is to communicate. Hell, even telling them that the idea of talking to them makes you anxious is already better than the radio silence you’re giving now. Harley’s not stupid: he knows you were avoiding him yesterday.” Peter nodded in understanding, letting his friend’s words sink in.

Honestly, knowing that Harley probably wanted to talk to him about something was both dauntingly terrifying and infinitely comforting. The situation was a chip on both of their shoulders, and they seemed equally eager to move past it, but Peter had no way of knowing how. After all, Harley still seemed awfully friendly with Flash, who hadn’t let up on bullying Peter constantly since their last year of Middle School. He doubted Harley could change his mind about that. But not giving him a chance to redeem himself seemed wrong too, and he could almost hear his aunt in his head, telling him to ‘never write of strangers at first sight, because strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet’. Naïve, but not necessarily wrong.

Tomorrow, Peter promised himself. Tomorrow, he would set aside whatever was holding him back, and talk to Harley.

#peter parker/harley keener #peter parker x harley keener #peter parker #harley keener #fanfic #pls share and review

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