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x-reader-writer · 3 years

Note

Hii can I request for Peter parker x male reader.

The reader is taller than him, dominant and has piercings, and peter comes out to the avengers as bi and tells them that he has a boyfriend. They're sceptical first but then they see peter sitting on readers lap and them being affectionate and sweet and laughing at jokes they make.

If this contains anything that makes you uncomfortable pls ignore this.

Thank uuu.

A/N: Hi!! Of course you can. I don't do nsfw posts, but I can make the reader seem more confident to fill that gap!

Sorry it's taken so long!! I hope this is alright!

I'm coming out

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male! Reader

~~~~~

"Baby, it's gonna be okay."

"But what if it's not! What if they yell, or they hate me, or Mr. Stark wants to never see me again, or-"

You quickly grab your boyfriend's hands to stop him from talking. "Babe, none of that will happen," you say calmly, with a gentle tone. "Do you know why? It's because they're decent people who adore you, Pete, just like I do."

"You think so?" Peter asks nervously, blushing from the compliment from his partner.

"I know so," you reply, a gentle smile gracing your face.

~~~~~

Peter was stood in the elevator, his foot anxiously tapping on the slightly metallic flooring. He lets out a long, deep breath, trying to control his anxiety.

The doors then open, on the penthouse of the Avengers Tower (formerly Stark Tower). Peter steps out and looks around the common room.

All of the Avengers were sat on the sofas and little chairs, lounging around and watching a Disney movie. Peter was amused slightly as he saw that Bucky was sat on Sam's lap as a joke (Peter could tell he just wanted to sit there-).

Peter then quietly clears his throat. It wasn't the best idea, as the movie was playing quite loudly, so nobody could hear him. He takes a deep breath and then loudly cough.

Everyone in the room jumps, even causing Tony to make his popcorn go flying. Everyone looks over at the teen, who nervously rubs his arm.

"Oh hey, Pete," Tony says, picking up a handful of his popcorn that had landed on his lap. "What're you doing here? It's not Friday yet."

"Sorry about scaring you all," Peter says quickly. He then replies to his mentor saying, "Yeah, sorry about coming earlier than expected Mr. Stark, but I wanted to talk to you. To you all."

"What is it, son?" Steve asks, smiling gently at the teen (no, Peter isn't actually his son, Steve's just old). Peter stays looking awkward and nervous, so he encourages, "It's okay, we're here for whatever it is, Peter."

"I'm bisexual," Peter blurts out. The room goes silent. He then quietly mumbles, "And I have a boyfriend."

Peter grips at his arm tightly waiting for some type of reaction, the silence dragging on.

"No," is the first thing said after minutes of silence. Unsurprisingly, it was Steve who had said this. Peter had kind of expected him and Bucky to react slightly badly towards this as they were from a different time period where they didn't accept gay people.

Peter then feels hope as he sees Tony going to say something. However it is shattered when the words 'I'm sorry Pete, but bisexuality isn't a thing' come out of his mentors mouth.

"What?" Peter whimpers, taking a step back in surprise and hurt.

"Tony, that's a bit harsh," Natasha says, glaring at the man. She then looks at Peter with a straight face and states, "However, that doesn't mean that you are Bisexual. You're just confused and need to find the right girl for you."

Peter shakes his head and turns back around to leave the penthouse, ignoring the calls from the avengers, especially the shouts and demands to come back and to stop being stupid.

~~~~~

Peter was sat in your lap, crying into your shoulder. You were gently shushing him and smoothing his hair, whispering in his ear it was okay.

"I'm really sorry, Petey, I pushed you into this-"

"It's not your fault," Peter replies, sniffling as he wiped his nose.

"And it's not yours either," you reply, gently poking his chest to prove your point. "They were wrong to say that and do that to you, I'm glad I was here waiting for you so you could come to me. Otherwise, I don't know what would have happened."

Peter nods and sniffles, wiping his nose with his hand. You chuckle softly and grab a tissue from your pocket (what? Peter cried a lot, you liked to be prepared!) and hand it to him with a smile. He smiles back at you and blows his nose.

"Better, Dumbo?" You ask, teasing him with the name.

Peter giggles and says, "Better, n/n."

You grin and then say, "uh oh, I see someone coming.." Peter looks at you confused, but you simply raise your hands slowly. Peter pales slightly before squealing and trying to get away from you as you start tickling his sides. He laughs and giggles, kicking and squirming on your lap. "Tickle monster!"

After a few minutes, Peter's sad tears had turned into tears of laughter. So you stopped and smirked at him as he was still laughing and blushing from the tickle 'fight'.

You lean down and kiss his nose, which makes him blush gently. then you start kissing all over his face, making him a blushing mess.

"Ksh, mission complete boys, ksh," you state, pretending you had a Walkie talkie, making Peter giggle at you and move up to cuddle up to you. You grin and gently smooth his back.

"And who are you?" A male voice says, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere between the two.

You look up and glare at the group who had approached you. The Avengers. The ones who hurt your boyfriend.

"What do you want?"

"We heard from security there was a random guy sat here, so we came to see who you were, and then we saw you touching up Peter," Clint says, glaring at you.

"Excuse me?" You state, shocked at what he had said, as you had hardly even touched your boyfriend, only holding his head and hugging him.

"Who. Are. You?" Bucky says, getting angry.

"I'm Y/n L/n, aka, Peter's boyfriend," you growl. You then hold Peter gently as you pull him closer, feeling extra protective over him as everyone starts yelling their complaints and how much they disagreed.

"What on Midgard is going on here?" You hear a booming voice call out.

Both you and Peter look over first. You see that the owner of the voice was Thor Odinson, next to him was stood a very pissed looking Loki.

"I think we both know what is happening here, brother," Loki replies, a muscle in their forehead spasming, almost comically. You would have found it amusing if not for the situation at hand.

Tony replies to Thor's question, ignoring Loki had said anything, "Peter is apparently 'Bisexual' and this random guy is his 'boyfriend'. I'm thinking he's a hydra agents and has brainwashed-"

"Enough!" Thor yells, glaring at Tony and the group. "How dare you make rude comments about these poor boys! Bisexuality is a common thing among Asgardians, Loki himself is one! Bisexuality is common amongst many things, even the animals on your own planet are bisexual, gay or any of the other LGBTQ community! You should not slander such a group, especially as they are such a huge quantity of the population, and not only of this planet or your species!"

The room was silent, even you included.

Loki walks over to Peter and gently pat's his head, their face soft and a gentle smile was placed upon their lips. "You are the Peter child, yes?" The brunette nods at the god, who smiles more in return. "Here is a little secret of my own that I've been keeping from everyone, that I shall share. It will mean that I'm joining you in, as Midgardians say, 'coming out'."

Loki then turns to the group and says, "I have something to say too. I, myself, am genderfluid. And I identify as a female today."

The room is silent again.

"I have a sister!" Thor says excitedly, picking Loki up and twirling her around. Loki smiles, happy Thor had accepted her.

"Woah, that's so cool, Ms. Loki!" Peter squeals, smiling brightly. "Oh wait, do you still want to be called that?"

"Yes, Loki is perfectly fine, child" she replies, smiling back.

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

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now everything is easy

do not interact with this post if you are under 18.

Katsuki wakes next to you the morning after your heat reaches its peak.

c: katsuki bakugou x reader

wc: 3.7k

cw: smut (18+), morning sex, subtle alpha/beta/omega dynamics (knotting, heat cycles, descriptions of scent & slick), vaginal & oral sex, aftercare if you squint, katsuki is like lovingly disgruntled through most of this but he adores you i promise

notes: Bakugou lovers, what’s up? It’s been a minute... 😅I can’t BELIEVE how long it’s been since I’ve written about Bakugou. But I signed up to write him for a few collabs over the summer, so here’s my warmup. I think I did this trope wrong but he goes down on u so like that’s fun, right? 👀

(MASTERLIST)

Morning comes hot and sticky, drizzling like honey into Katsuki’s slowly waking mind.

For a long time, waking slowly like this seemed little more than a far-off dream, for the man who could never be caught off guard. Most days his eyes still spring open, fully alert to the sound of his six o’clock alarm. But when she needs him, he loses himself easily to her.

To you.

He’s not sure what time it is exactly, only that midmorning sun splashes obscenely across the mussed bedclothes, lighting up the soft green of the worn linen and the buttery eggshell-painted wall beyond. His muscles settle into a dutiful ache. His thighs are still a little stuck together. He kind of needs to piss.

But you, fragile and perfect with the dew of your leftover heat drying on your spine, are worth lingering for.

You’re still fast asleep as he rolls onto one hip, fresh scratches pulling and stinging in the muscles of his back. The sheet’s tucked haphazardly over the curve of your hip, but you’re sprawled on your side with your torso left carelessly bare.

He can’t help himself, leaning forward to bury his nose against your scent glands, pulling the strong reek of you into his head. Your scent is so easy to read- maple-sweet, fragrant like orange blossom and deliciously mingled with his own. Last night, he fucked you both into sheer exhaustion, and the sheets still waft puffs of your mingled scents with every shift of his body.

Still, you’ll be wanting more soon. He gives your petal-soft skin a devilish little nip, rolling away to stretch yesterday’s exertion from his tendons.

Before he can even shift to climb out of bed for the bathroom, you’re squirming beside him.

Too late.

Those long, peaceful breaths of sleepy silence quickly give way to strained little whimpers as your senses come back to you. Last night, your heat cycle had reached its peak. But after a full measure of sleep- and eight hours without the fill of your alpha- he knew this was coming.

“Alpha,” you keen, struggling with even one coherent word. Katsuki’s instincts flare to life while you wake up, fresh waves of your needy scent filling his head and bringing his alpha to the surface. His cock stirs greedily against one thigh, stiffening traitorously in response to your voice.

He sighs harshly, flopping back against the pillows. His jaw ticks, letting firm throbs of desire swell in his gut.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to take a piss, could you?” He growls, no shortage of affection in his rough tone. You’re already rolling over, tangling clumsy, slick thighs in the soiled sheets.

“Please,” you sigh. “One more. I need one more.”

“C’mere,” he grunts, palming your ass to bring you close. “Let me see you.”

Your flesh is hot and sticky beneath his touch, and he knows how badly you need him but he can’t help indulging. Not now, when you’re so pliable and needy for him. It’s cruel to think so, but he loves you most when you’re desperate like this. His mean streak doesn’t come for you very often, but he can’t help it. You’re so easy to tease, and so much cuter when you want something.

He slips between your thighs to quell your squirming, letting you settle onto your back. You spread your legs as far as they’ll go, staring up at him with that wide, vulnerable, irresistible expression you always get at this time in your cycle. It’s how can tell your heat’s coming, far before the changes to your scent. The first time you look up at him like this every season, he knows it’s all over.

Your thighs are still crusted with last night’s slick and dried remnants of cum, but when you spread them, long strings of fresh fluid break and drip onto the mattress. The warm slip of your sex is glistening already.

Katsuki decides in that moment that he’s going to take his time with you, whether you’re ready to wait for it or not.

“You feeling patient?” he chuckles, lip curling as he flicks his eyes back to yours. You’re still staring up at him like that, an extra flash of panic lighting your eyes when the word patient reaches your ears.

“W-what,” you plead. “N-no, please, just- now, just do it now…”

Your voice trails into a strangled little squeak of pleasure when he dips his head between your thighs and seals his mouth to your dripping cunt. The familiar sweet musk of you pours into his mouth, cocktailed with the overwhelmingly heady flavor of your heat slick. The tightness in his balls is getting blurry now, half-full-bladder, half-swelling desire. But he can hold it, if it means he gets to pull more of those little cries from your needy throat.

He glides the flat of his tongue up between your folds, knowing that it makes you squeal without actually pushing you any closer to the edge. As he predicted, your thigh twitches by his left ear and your toes curl, but the whine that leaves you is not a satisfied one.

“K-katsuki,” you beg. The shape of his name on your lips comes as a surprise to him, and he glances up at you with a flinch of his brow. While there’s nothing quite like the way you shout “alpha” in the throes of your heat, when you’re all sleepy and sticky and half-conscious like this, his name feels good, too, hanging in the bleary air between you.

It sounds nice.

He rewards you with a lift of his chin, bringing the fat press of his tongue over your swollen clit just once. The sharp flick of it makes you yelp and flinch, slamming your hips into his face so hard he nearly bites his lip.

“Fuck,” he curses without pulling away, “cut it out.” He flattens one palm over the low plane of your pelvis, pressing weight into his wrist and pinning your wriggling hips to the mattress. The angle’s a little more awkward like this, but your toes are starting to twitch and he can tell you’re losing yourself to the pleasure.

He presses one finger to the weeping silk of your slippery folds, nudging it forward to find your needing hole and pushing smoothly inside.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he croons into your cunt, “y’re fuckin’ grabbing me already.”

Your walls flutter in near-instant reaction to his touch, closing down hard around his middle finger. You squeeze so tightly he can barely draw back out of you again, curling the pad of his finger to find the spongy flesh near your entrance. It’s the tenderest part of you, and when he rubs it just right, you’ll descend into the kind of shivers that’ll make it hard to hold back.

It’s worth it every time, though, to watch you lose your mind under his diligent hands.

Katsuki refreshes the weight in his palm, pinning you freshly down while he re-adjusts to the slick pull of your clutching depths. He cups his tongue against your clit, feeling the heat in its swollen ridge, and dips his ring finger into you, alongside the first. His cock’s fully hard now, drooling wet preek into the sheets and burning with bright, hot tension.

Fuck, it’s going to feel good to get you on his knot again.

He focuses once more on the task at hand, finished revelling in your taste and ready to focus on your pleasure. You like it when he flutters his tongue quick and sharp against your clit, and your cunt’s most sensitive in the shallow parts near your slit. He curls his fingers, rubbing all along the hottest planes. He can practically feel the spots where your nerves sit closest to your skin, making your body spasm when he pins them under his fingers.

“Kah!” The first syllable of his name flies from your lips. He knows you sense his intent now, and your body’s already beginning to stiffen with the promise of climax. He knows you have to tense up a little to make it happen, so when you tense your core beneath the press of his free hand, he knows you’re getting close.

“Close,” you pant anyway, slipping one hand between your thighs and raking your fingers into his hair. When you grab the longest strands at his crown and pull, it sends an unexpected little shock of pleasure to his dick that pulls the air from his chest.

You’re already starting to pitch and shake, but he knows better than to let up now. He keeps the pleasure coming steady and strong, pushing out out a solid rhythm between his tongue and his fingers as he feels you pass the point of no return.

“Right there,” comes your desperate voice, crawling into your upper register. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s it, y-you’re-“

It’s kind of beautiful, how easy to read you’ve become. He’s pretty sure he could satisfy you like this by feel alone at this point, blindfolded with his ears stuffed full of cotton.

A heartbeat and a half later you’re falling, tense muscles suddenly going slack as you dig your heels into the mattress and arch your back off the bed and contract so tight around his fingers he almost busts it right there, trying not to think about how maddening you’re going to feel around his cock in a few seconds. You let out one, long, hushed draw of his name, a “Katsuki,” that wafts by his ears like a fragrant breeze. Then you’re collapsing between his hands, fitful and whimpering and fighting him off.

“Better?” he grunts, sitting back on his heels. He wipes his mouth off with the back of one hand, dipping the pad of his thumb into the corners as he licks your heat-slick from his lips.

The look you give him suggests everything he intended. Better after a peak, perhaps, but there’s only one thing that’s going to satisfy you enough to function today.

Fuck, his knot’s already starting to swell a little when he closes his fingers around himself. He grits his teeth, ignoring the flush of heat that creeps down the back of his neck and willing it to stay small enough to fuck you properly.

He looks up at you again, and your scent crashes into his mind, filling every hollow of his blurry mind. You’re already gushing fresh slick, reaching for him to grab him by the face and pull him back down to your level.

He probably shouldn’t have teased you so long.

He lets you tug him against you, bracing his hands at either side of your head to drop his mouth to yours. He laves his tongue affectionately across your teeth, tasting notes of his scent in the lingering flavour of you. The hint of his own musk serves as a pleasant memory from the night before, when he’d poured his scent into every hollow of your body, claiming you as wholly as you’d given yourself to him.

You’re already humping your hips down against his, with his cock pressing up into the crook of your thigh. Katsuki groans long and low into your mouth, fitting one hand between you to bring his weeping tip to the hot gush of your cunt.

“That’s what you want?” He grunts, dipping his mouth from yours, tucking it against the shell of your ear.

“Katsuki, hmmm,” you whine, dragging your hard nipples against his chest. When he doesn’t move right away you whine again, clutching at his back and trying to rock yourself down onto him.

“Alpha, plea-hah!”

Katsuki delights in the way he can still startle you, after all this time. He cuts off your begging by snapping his hips sharply forward, bottoming out in one clean thrust. He’s never pretended to have the biggest cock in the world. But he’ll be damned if you’re not satisfied by it anyway.

“That’s right,” he pants, closing his eyes against the crook of your neck. “I got what you need.”

He pets a hand down your sternum as he straightens up a little, thumbing the tender swell of one nipple. He slides his fingers into the dip of your waist to brace at the curve of your hip, digging the pads of his fingers into your flesh as he rolls smoothly in and out of your clingy heat.

He closes his eyes again, overcome by the feelings he swallowed to tease you earlier. You are still tender and gooey from last night, molded perfectly to the size of him and sucking him forward every time he tries to pull away. Your slick leaks out around the edges of his cock with every push of his hips, and the quiet, satisfied cries from beneath him send pulses of deep affection into the hollows of his chest.

There’s nothing quite like this, the physical manifestation of the intimacy that lies between you. He is the only one who can do this for you anymore, the only person in the world who can quell the trembling tides of your heat.

He’s not gonna last long at all, getting sweet on you in his head like this.

Determined to make use of the time that he has, he slides his fingers into the back of your knee, pushing your thigh up toward your torso until he can reach up and grab you by the ankle. Slowly, deftly, he straightens your leg, gliding his palm down the length of your shin and guiding the curve of your heel into the crook of his shoulder.

“Pretty like this,” he croons without thinking, turning his head and feathering a quiet little kiss to the inside of your ankle. He spies your reaction out of the corner of his eye, a blissful little sleepy smile that paints your warmed features. Affection clutches low and hot in his belly, a feeling he’s only now grown used to embracing. Tenderly, he wraps his arm around your leg, braces it against his chest, and begins to thrust.

He takes up a slow, heady pace, pulling slowly out of you and then slamming forward with a harsh snap of his hips, revelling in the way your body jerks every time. He can feel the breath rattle against his palate as he sucks it in through his clenched teeth, losing himself in the maddening grip of you. It’s woven into the very fabric of him, loving you. He doesn’t have to say it anymore, not when he can practically read it out of your skin. But he’s promised himself, more fiercely than anything, to take care of you.

He promises you in the way he fucks you through this, muscles stretched thin, balls aching. Worn out on a weeknight’s worth of sleep, calling out of work for the second day in a row, undoubtedly leaving you in bed to put together a decent meal from the fridge he’d stocked this time last week, when you started looking at him Like That and he couldn’t even bring himself to dread it.

You clench, shifting your foot against his shoulder and lifting your hips into his. The tight little ripple around the base of his cock shoots all the way to the base of his spine, and with a sharp little grunt Katsuki slips his free hand down your belly, stretching his thumb over your tender clit. He can already feel his knot beginning to swell again, pleasure spiking hard when he traps your clit under his thumb and starts to stroke, making you cry out and tense into him all over again.

“Kat…suki, I’m.. g-gonna,” you plead, like he can’t already feel it happening again. Even your scent fluctuates when you’re about to cum, rippled with a sharp little spice that peters into sweetness all over again when you bleed down from that high.

“I gotcha,” he promises gently, hooking his arm more firmly around your calf. “Come on, baby. I gotcha. Come on.”

He dips his hips as low as he can, paying extra attention to the beginning and end of every thrust, to overstimulate those tender spots that line your entrance. It works, because before long you’re digging your heel into the meat of his shoulder and convulsing around his pounding length and gushing hot slick that drips down his balls and coats his pelvis and smears across the low end of his stomach.

“Fuck.” The word hisses from his throat, his body taking the green light of your waning climax long before his brain clues in. He digs his fingers into your thigh and leans forward, stretching it up toward your chest and lets himself go, shoving his hips madly against yours and milking every cruel draw of pleasure from his own body until his thighs are shaking with the resistance of it. When the ecstasy finally boils over he slams his hips as far forward as they’ll go, squeezing his eyes shut and shooting long spurts of cum up into your belly. Your walls stretch eagerly around him as his knot expands completely, sealing his pelvis to yours.

Finally, he shrugs your ankle down his arm, gently straightening your leg out over his thigh as you catch your breath. He’s a little winded, too, never quite ready for the overwhelming sensations of taking you.

“That’s never gonna get old,” he mumbles, bowing over your supine form to rest his dewy forehead on yours.

You’re still panting hard, but you laugh airily, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. His eyes are closed again but he can feel you grinning and it’s too contagious not to crack a little smile. He ducks his forehead away from yours to nose against the shell of your ear, mouthing gently at your jaw and sliding both hands up and down either side of your torso.

“Better?” he asks, sincere this time. And, sincerely soothed this time, you nod.

“Much better.”

He knows you’re telling the truth, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be on you all day. He can’t keep himself off of you when you’re coming down from the worst of it, all sweet and pliable and soft in a way that you most certainly are not for the other days in your cycle. You kick his ass without hesitation, and he loves you for it. But you’re irresistible like this.

“Now,” he grunts, still nosing his way down your neck, tonguing the sweet hollow of your scent glands, “hurry up and calm down. I gotta take a leak.”

That urge hasn’t gone anywhere fast, growing shallow and tight in the pit of his groin. But it’s not urgent. Not when he’s locked so sweetly (and securely) into your relaxing depths.

“You’re the one that needs to calm down,” you retort in good humour, glancing down for a heartbeat.

“Say that again and I might not bother waiting,” he threatens easily. The noise that escapes your throat is enough to make him snort, pillowing his head in the crook of your shoulder as you turn sharply to find his eyes.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

“You gonna stop me?” He regrets challenging you immediately when you flail instinctively beneath him, wrenching on the base of his knot and drawing a strangled, pained little wheeze from his chest.

“Fuck, I was kidding,” he scolds, pinning your shoulders to the mattress. “Jesus. Welcome back.”

You’re getting your fire back early. Maybe he’s kind of missed it, after all.

He keeps himself curled over you like that until his knot’s gone down almost all the way, cock softening out of you and letting fresh drips of slick and cum leak onto his thighs. Finally he pulls himself away from you, padding blindly into the bathroom and flipping on the harsh fluorescent light.

He braces one hand on the wall over the toilet as he relieves himself, still half-hard and wavering on his overworked thighs. After he’s washed his hands he wagers a look in the mirror, turning his back and twisting to look over his shoulder and examine the damage.

He goes back to bed smirking, thinking of the long, angry scratches while the memory of their infliction is still fresh.

You are already half-asleep again when he finds you, so he just pulls the sheets up around your shoulders and drops a kiss to your temple. You’re going to want coffee soon, and you’re going to need breakfast. Neither of you have had a proper meal in longer than he’d care to calculate.

When he steps into some undershorts and eases into the open space that makes up the rest of your apartment, he opens the kitchen windows, since you’ll want fresh air when you come out to join him. He’d stopped by the bagel shop on the corner by the agency the last time he was there, leaving work early to come home to you, because he knew you’d want fried eggs on your favourite sesame bagel when you were finally coherent enough to crave food again.

The routines that make up his devotion to you aren’t the things he learned about in health class. They weren’t written down in the books that were unceremoniously shoved at him after he’d presented, nor did the details of your post-heat care list appear on any neatly packaged powerpoint presentation.

He’s picked them up slowly, the hard way, by messing up over and over and over again. They’re things he never even realized he knew about you, until he looks down at his hands and he’s flipping his own egg every few seconds to keep it from browning but leaving yours in the pan to get crisp around the edges.

It feels good to know you so deeply. Even when, sometimes, the flipside is still a little too vulnerable and scary. Even when he’s still harsh and mean, when he still messes up, when he still catches himself on the edge of fury so often.

You picked him anyway, and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to let that mean something.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo #reader insert #tw a/b/o #this isn't showing up in the taaaaags #help meeeeeeeee #;.;

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 16

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter takes the ride into town as an opportunity to be extra annoying, but you also finally find out just how he got into space. The prank war continues. Will you finally declare Peter "The Prank Master," or has he finally met his match?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: This is a long one! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 29 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,661

Peter's face was still red by the time you finished pulling your boots on. He had just come out of the bathroom and stood near you as you got up from the bench. He had a strange look about his face and when you went to ask, "What?" he grabbed your wrist with a wet hand and said, "Don't ya hate when you pee on your hands?"

This, of course, was revenge for you embarrassing him just a few minutes prior.

Your expression turned murderous and you ripped your arm away. Was he serious? How dare he! What the hell was wrong with him!? Just as you were angrily saying, "I'm going to fucking kill you!" and absolutely looking like you'd actually follow through, Peter held up his hands and said through laughter, "It's a joke! It's just a joke! It's just water! I promise!"

You backed down slightly, anger still burning in your eyes. "You know I don't have to take you, right? Fury said I could take anyone who passes for human." Just then Kraglin walked by and you gestured to him. "I could just take him instead if you want to start out being a little shit."

Kraglin grinned at the two of you and, clearly seeing that Peter had managed to push your buttons already, said, "Nah. I can catch the next one," and continued on his way up the stairs.

You huffed in his direction before turning to Peter in frustration. "Just get in the car. And don't piss me off."

Peter gave a little mock-salute and followed you out.

You could have killed him on the ride into town. The annoyance was constant.

He started by turning up the radio and singly badly along with the songs, made worse due to the fact that most of which he didn't know the words to. Eventually you couldn't take it anymore and you shut the radio off.

He tried to turn it back on a bit later and you smacked his hand away, only able to do so now that your braced arm wasn't in a sling and you could now grip the wheel with both hands.

He then started asking, "Are we there yet?" about every minute. He knew you weren't close.

This was coupled with the classic, "I'm not touching you!" game. You almost didn't notice for the first five minutes, intent on ignoring him and keeping your eyes on the road. When you finally did notice and tell him to knock it off, well, you know what he responded with.

You were fuming when you finally pulled into the post office. You threw the car into park and angrily ordered him to sit quietly and promptly left him.

He was actually starting to wonder if maybe he should cool it for a bit. You did look pretty mad... probably still weren't over the whole fake pee on hands prank. Maybe he shouldn't go through with what he was considering next?

When you finished your business in the mail office and returned to the car you were actually surprised to find that he had behaved. You don't know what you had actually expected him to do- maybe get out and crouch beside the car to make you think he'd run off?- but no. He was still sitting right where you left him.

You get back behind the wheel and toss your mail on the dash, prepared to head to the grocery shop. Peter doesn't say anything.

The short ride over you were a little leery of just how quiet he was being. He was too quiet. When you pulled in park at the grocery lot you turned to give him a suspicious look.

"What?" he asked innocently, returning your gaze.

"You. What are you up to?"

"What ever do you mean?" He wore a face of innocence, but you knew better.

"The whole ride into town you didn't let up with all your annoying shit, now on the ride from the post office to here you act like a perfect angel. I don't trust it."

"Thought you could use a break is all, you seemed really cranky." A grin was starting to crack Peter's innocent façade. "You know... I think I know what might cheer you up..."

Your eyes narrowed. "Peter-" Whatever he intended, judging by his tone you knew it couldn't be good.

Before you could say more his hand darted out to connect with that spot above your knee, which of course made you spasm in your seat and cackle loudly. Whatever you had been expecting, for some reason you foolishly didn't consider that. You really should have though, considering how often you would now get teased with little pokes and squeezes. Unfortunately for you, a good portion of your guests were apparently an affectionate bunch... Or maybe they just liked to annoy you. You weren't sure which.

You smacked and pushed at his hand but he didn't let up. "Peter! Peter stop that this instant!" you scolded through your laughter.

"Come on, cheer up sour-puss!" he teased in a high voice, still squeezing rapidly into the muscle. "Being stuck with me isn't that bad."

"You little shit!" you cried, smacking at him again, your eyes closed tightly as you laughed and kicked to the best of your ability, trying your best not to accidentally lash out and hit the horn. You were effectively trapped by having a car as your surroundings. So unfair. "Stop it! Cut it out!"

Peter finally stopped and grinned at you as you caught your breath, chuckling when you punched him in the shoulder.

"You're such a brat!" you said, residual giggles still slipping out. However, you didn't seem quite as angry as you had been, so Peter counted it as a win. Maybe now you wouldn't be quite as cranky with him when you discovered the prank he had pulled on you. Honestly he was surprised you hadn't noticed before you sat down...

After a moment you spoke again. "Come on, let's get this over- aw shit."

"What?" Peter asked, confused by your sudden change of tone.

"You didn't bring those sunglasses with you this time, did you?"

"Oh..." Peter's eyes widened in realization. Not wanting to have to wait out in the car he thought to reason. "I think it'll be ok. I mean, It's been what- like 26 years since I went missing? And I wasn't even from this area of Earth so I really doubt anyone would recognize me-"

Your eyes widen as big as saucers. "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"Went missing??" Had you seriously heard him right? Did Fury know?Who were you kidding? Of course Fury knew. Fury knew everything.

"Oh... so you didn't know about that... Ha- well it's fine! Honest! I was just trying to let you know it'll be fine if I don't wear some lame disguise like sunglasses-"

"That's not why I had insisted on the sunglasses! It was for any possible undercover aliens looking for you! I didn't know you'd be on the missing persons bulletin!"

Peter could see you were stressed. That wasn't good in his opinion. You'd be no fun to pick on if you were worried, so he tried to smooth it over. After all, it really was fine. "Look, everything's fine. Ok? I was on that list for missing people, Fury told me that shortly after we arrived, but we talked about it and he made sure I was wiped from it just in case."

You relaxed a little, sitting back in your seat. You turn to look at him again. "Twenty-six years... that means you were, what? Ten?"

"Eight," he corrected.

"That's not better." you reply, and then a realization hit you. "Wait- is that how you got into space? Were you literally abducted by aliens?" Yes, you might have been aware of aliens due to your employment by SHIELD, but from the little you had seen of and about them you had come to assume that the whole "alien abduction" thing was a myth crazy people talked about. They just barely came here, let alone had use for random Earth people.

"Like I said, it's a long story." Peter answered, "We should probably get going." he cracked his door open and gestured with his head towards the store.

Remembering yourself, you give a half nod and exit your vehicle so you could complete the shop visit.

As the two of you walked towards the shop you speak up. "Is it alright if I ask what happened? You don't have to answer if it's a bad memory or anything. I'm just curious about... you know..."

"What?"

"Like, you must have had a family? Now that you're here, why haven't you tried to find them?"

Peter looked like he was searching for the right words. "It's kinda complicated."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's fine." he said as the two of you entered the shop.

You grabbed a trolley and looked at him to see if he would continue, but hoping that he wouldn't feel you were pressuring him.

After a moment he did continue. "My mom died right before it happened. Literally minutes before." Seeing the look on your face and realizing what you might be assuming he clarified. "It was cancer. She'd been sick a long time."

"I'm so sorry." You say, leading him towards the haircare section of the store to start knocking things off your list.

He shook his head, trying to vanish the memory of her lying in that hospital bed. "Yeah... me too." He sighed and went on to say how when it happened he was upset, and angry. She was gone just like that and he didn't know what to do. So he just ran. He ran outside the hospital and then just collapsed on the lawn. Next thing he knew there was the bright light of a spaceship right above him, and it took him.

"It just randomly came by took you? For no reason?" You ask, approaching the hair wash section and deciding on a conditioner that you thought Gamora might like the scent of. You turned to Peter for his opinion and he pointed out a lavender scented one before answering about the motives of his abductors.

"No, they had a reason" he said, "Turned out my father was this celestial being and sent them to fetch me. But of course I didn't know that at the time. Like I said, mom had cancer. In her brain. So when she said my dad was this 'angel' composed of 'pure light', of course no one believed her. They just thought it was the tumor."

"Oh. Wow." You didn't know what to say to that as the two of you were now walking over to the moisturizers. Eventually you settled on, "So you've been with your dad then?" Just as you finished that sentence something clicked in your brain, but you thought for sure it couldn't be right, could it? "Wait, do you mean Yondu? He's your father?"

Peter laughed. "Are you serious? Drax thought the same thing. "

You frowned slightly, picking out a decent smelling lotion and dropping it into the basket. "Well, I have heard him refer to you as "my boy" at least a couple times, and you just said your dad was alien. I think you could see why I might now make that connection there."

Peter smiled softly, seeming lost in thought. "Yeah, yeah I guess. But not exactly. You see, Yondu was the guy my father hired to fetch me. He was supposed to take me to him, but he didn't. He kept me."

You gave Peter a confused look as you led the way towards the razors. You knew from Peter's last story that Yondu had been the captain of a faction of space-pirates called Ravagers before joining the Guardians, but this bit was news to you. Apparently Peter was with the Ravagers before the Guardians of the Galaxy, but why had Yondu kept him? Why not just give him to his father?

Peter continues. "I know what you're thinking, but like I said, it's complicated. He kept me to protect me. 'Course, for the longest time he never told me that. Always said he kept me 'cause I was skinny and good for thieving."

"Protect you from... your father?" You asked. How bad must his father have been for a space pirate captain to decide the kid was better off joining the crew? You raised an eyebrow at him as you grabbed some decent disposable razors off the shelf. Upon second thought, you grabbed some refill-heads as well.

"Yeah. Remember how I told you about that time we saved the galaxy from Ronan, and I was able to touch the Infinity stone without immediately dying?"

"Yeah?" You now led the way towards the DIY section. You knew it was unlikely, but hopped that maybe the shop carried some filler so you might finally repair that chip in the wall above the back door from where Yondu killed that spider for you. You would have already fixed it by now, but the tub of filler you did have was long dried up. Kraglin asked about it the other day, stating he didn't remember that being there when they arrived, and you passed it off as the house being old, unwilling to admit what had actually happened.

"Well, word spread about that pretty fast because I shouldn't have been able to do that." Peter continued, following beside you. "My father caught word of a man who was able to hold an infinity stone and live, and knew it had to be me, so he tracked me down."

"And that was... bad?" You asked, turning into your desired aisle.

"Not at first. At first it was cool. He took us back to his planet- that's where we met Mantis- and this next part is really gonna blow your mind, the whole planet was him."

"What? How does that even work?"

"Honestly, I don't even fully get it, but like I said, he was a celestial. He just was the planet. The guy who we met was just like this... avatar version he made of himself to travel and stuff. He had like these magic powers, and he taught me how to use them... kinda."

"Wait, so you have special powers?" you ask, "I had no idea." You were so surprised by these revelations that you almost missed the small tubs of repair filler the shop did carry, but recovered and placed one in the basket.

Peter rubbed the back of his head. "Well, not exactly. Not anymore. You see, they came from his celestial genes- it's the only reason I was able to hold onto that infinity stone and live- but anyway, I don't have them anymore. I um, I kinda had to... kill him. And when he died so did the light, so I'm just a regular Terran now."

"What?!" you gave him a very confused look. "Did you just say you killed your own dad?" You tried to keep your voice low. You had been lucky to avoid too many other shoppers during this conversation, but just then a couple of boys walked by. You eyed them, but they were lost in their own conversation and didn't seem to have heard or cared about what you had said. You continued towards the cleaning supplies, remembering you were dangerously low on various cleaners for the bathrooms.

"Again, complicated," Peter replied. "He turned out to be not such a good dude. Long story short, He had this plan to expand and make the entire universe him, like he would literally be the only thing left, but he needed another celestial to help him- that's where I came in. Apparently he had a butt-load of other kids, but I was the only one that actually inherited the celestial gene. Well, obviously I had doubts about his whole plan. I mean, all my friends would be gone, for one." He chuckled. "But he was... quite convincing. I don't even think I could describe the things he showed me..." He trailed off, and then seemed to remember himself a moment later. "Anyway, eventually he told me he was the one who put the tumor in my mom's head and that finally snapped me out of it."

You were taken aback. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's awful!"

He shrugged. "Nah. Don't be. That guy was a jackass. I mean, who names themself "Ego" anyways?"

"Probably the type of person who wants to literally be the center of the universe," you quipped.

Peter chuckled and nudged you in the shoulder, apparently appreciative of the joke. "Yeah. I suppose it probably was fitting for him..." he stared off for a moment. "Anyway, it's funny that you thought that Yondu was my father, because all that happening made me realize that Yondu had actually kinda been my dad all along."

You give him a quizzical look as the two of you reach the aisle you were looking for, and he just grins knowingly in return. "Complicated?" you say, sure that that would be his answer.

"Yes and no." Peter answered, and then just let the silence linger.

After a bit you asked him. "You said Ego had other children? Do you know what ever happened to them?"

Peter frowned. "He killed them. They didn't have what he needed, so he just killed them. There was a whole cavern on the planet filled with their bones."

You only managed a soft, "Oh." You felt your stomach twist. What kind of bastard would kill their own- You shook that thought away, telling yourself to compose yourself. Not now.

"Yeah. I know. Pretty dark." Peter said, his tone obvious he was trying his best to keep it light. He didn't say anything, but he saw something in you change a little when he revealed Ego just murdered his own kids like it was nothing, and he remembered a previous conversation he had with you about that job you had in Romania and part of him wished he had lied just then. He tried to steer the conversation in a happier direction for both of your sakes. He didn't like to think about it either. "Apparently at some point Yondu had found out what Ego had been doing with all those kids he had him fetch, and that's why he kept me. I think I turned out alright, all things considered." He nudged you and gave you a wide cheeky grin.

You couldn't help but grin as you responded, "I dunno... depends if any of that contributed to how annoying you are." You located the toilet cleaners and plunked a couple bottles in the trolley.

"Hey!" Peter mock-pouted, but he was glad that the mood had been lifted again.

The two of you walked in silence towards the tub cleaners when Peter suddenly says, "Oh hey, you dropped something."

You stop and look around for whatever might have fallen out of the trolley, asking him what you had dropped.

Peter grinned and said, "Your speed."

You roll your eyes at him. You weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the lameness of the joke, or the fact that you fell for it. "Really? You're gonna start that again?"

"Yup." Peter grinned.

You just shook your head and continued down the aisle to grab some disinfectant wipes, but little did he know you had a trick up your sleeve.

The wipes were just before the air fresheners and after you grabbed the wipes and were walking past you picked up a refill at random and said, "Oh hey, you should smell this."

"Nice try, I'm not falling for that." Peter said.

"Falling for what?" you ask innocently.

"I bet it smells like crap, you're just trying to get me back for the other day."

You roll your eyes dramatically. "It says on the package it's 'Blossom and Breeze.' Here," you smell it yourself to prove to him it wasn't nasty. "See? You're so paranoid. They wouldn't sell these if they smelled bad." You offer the item back to him with an unimpressed look.

Seeming mostly convinced he hesitantly takes the item from you and slowly brings it up to sniff it. Then he looks confused. "I don't smell anything?"

You knew he wouldn't, it was encased in plastic, but that wasn't the prank. "Oh, you might need to breathe deeper, they put the scent in the cardboard bit so people can test it before they buy it, it can be a little faint." This was a blatant lie. Sure, this could have made a decent prank on it's own, but it still wasn't the prank you were going for. It was more of a distraction until that group of pretty young women you clocked entering the aisle earlier when grabbing the wipes had made their way close enough, which they would in 3... 2... 1...

You snatched the item away from a now very confused Peter.

"These don't go in your mouth! How many times do I gotta tell you!?" you ask, acting exasperated.

Peter opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words. Then he noticed the handful of pretty women walking by who were now staring at him and giggling to each other behind their hands as you said, "They're not gonna taste like how they smell, we've been over this!"

His cheeks started to redden and he turned his attention from the departing group of young ladies to you, his expression switching from wide-eyed and embarrassed to unamused, having now understood what you did.

You were giggling now and he narrowed his eyes at you. "Not cool, dude!"

You tossed the item back on the shelf and, still giggling, said, "But it sure was funny."

Peter just grumbled and followed you to the grocery section.

You spotted some brownie mix and asked him if he thought his friends might like to try brownies.

"Probably. And if they don't like them, more for us." He punctuated the sentence by taking the box from your hand and plopping it in the trolley, making you shake your head and giggle at him.

You then grabbed the couple snacks that had been requested as well as a few things you'd enjoy, including some ice-cream since you found the guys had eaten all of it when you returned from your last trip into town.

Just as you were dropping the ice cream in the trolley Peter decided that would be time for his revenge. There were several people about doing their shopping in that particular aisle when he suddenly said out loud, "Hey, is that rash still contagious?"

You looked at him, mortified, and you noticed the people start to quietly but quickly clear out of the aisle. You give him a glare, but just sigh and say, "Well played."

"I thought so." Peter replied, looking proud of himself.

"Still not 'The Master.'"

"We'll see," he chuckled.

You finished up the trip, and headed home. Gratefully, Peter wasn't nearly as annoying on the return trip.

You supposed the whole trip could have gone worse. It really was too bad you didn't get a chance to go alone though. You might have been able to grab some glitter for... nefarious purposes. Though, you supposed you could always order it online. Oh well, at least you managed to pick up some jelly. He wouldn't be suspicious of jelly... until you used it against him, that is.

***

It wouldn't be until you had been home for a little bit that you would discover what prank Peter had pulled on you in the car. Or rather, Kraglin discovered it.

You were getting a glass of water when Kraglin cleared his throat and awkwardly asked you why there was blue tape on your bottom.

You raised and eyebrow and reached back while Rocket snickered and teased Kraglin, asking him why he had been looking at your ass.

Kraglin began to stutter. "I-I wasn't! It's just- The tape is bright blue! Her pants are black! How was I not supposed to see it!?" He was blushing now and decided to just leave the room. Why did the rat have to be such a dick?

You peeled the strip of blue tape off your butt and looked at it with a half frown before looking up at Peter who was standing with Rocket and grinning. "You have anything to do with this?" you ask accusingly. Who were you kidding? It's not like you just happened to sit on blue tape. Of course he had something to do with it, but how?

Peter grinned wider then pulled the rest of the roll out of one of his pockets. "I put a piece of this sticky side up in your car seat before you got out of the Post Office." He then tossed the roll to you. "Found it in one of those drawers," he said, pointing to the drawers behind you.

"I see you fancy yourself the Artful Dodger," you say in annoyance to his confession that he had knicked the tape with the sole purpose of annoying you. You also realized this meant you had walked around the whole shop with blue tape on your bottom. Well, you supposed there were worse things... like what you were sure to do with that blue dye tonight.

"I have no idea what that means." Peter replied.

You roll your eyes at him, but not altogether surprised he didn't get the reference. "Nevermind." you say, tossing the tape back in the drawer. "Childish..."

Peter just chuckled and left the kitchen.

***

If you hadn't been set on using that food dye to prank Peter the past few days, you definitely were now.

Sometime after discovering the blue tape, you went upstairs and thought you might put one of your sticky notes to use. You stuck with the classic, 'kick me', sign, and thought it'd be a good idea to sneak up behind and jump-scare him and use that as a diversion to stick it to his back. It worked as expected.

It took him less than half an hour to find it. Or rather, Mantis found it, and asked him why he had a sign telling people to kick him on his back. She plucked the sign from his shirt and he turned to see what she was talking about. Taking the sticky note from her, he frowned in annoyance for becoming victim to one of the oldest tricks in the book, and then shouted your name.

You, of course, didn't answer. Just smiled behind your book in your room, of course not realizing that your prank had technically failed.

In revenge, Peter decided to bring up a video on YouTube he came across the previous day titled, "Broken TV screen 1 hour" and set it to play on full screen. Then he went to fetch you.

***

You were in the kitchen when Rocket startled you by jumping up to climb up your back without warning. He had managed to climb all the way up to your head when you let out a startled yelp and asked, "What are you doing??" as you jerked from the unexpected sensation of being climbed on.

"Hold still, will ya? Just needed a boost up to reach up to this cabinet, don't get your panties in a bunch," he said with half a chuckle, balancing himself on your head as he opened the cupboard.

"You never needed one before now!" you said, irritated. That was the cupboard you kept the glasses in, and you'd seen him get up there just fine plenty of times without needing a human ladder.

"Eh. You were there," he said, amusement in his voice. It was seemingly clear he had only done this to annoy you.

"Will you hurry up and get down!" you said, trying to keep the giggles out of your voice as his tail was flitting over your ear.

"What, ya got somewhere to be?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes! Anywhere without a rac- a furry little beast sitting on my head!" you replied through gritted teeth. You were still trying- and mostly failing- to hide your giggles. Yes, maybe you could have told him to cut it out with the tail twitching, but you didn't want to admit that it tickled. Last thing you needed was to reveal a weakness for the raccoon to exploit.

Rocket heard how you almost called him a raccoon, but let it slide because you stopped yourself. Mostly. He'd allow you to live, however, he stayed up there a couple moments more, pretending to take his time deciding on a cup and grinning as he continued flitting his tail over your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. The little shit.

He finally grabbed a cup and closed the cupboard, teasingly scolding, "Hey, hold still!" when his tail "accidentally" brushed your neck on the way down and you jerked your head to the side from the sensation, and then twitched when he hit a particularly sensitive area of your shoulder blade on his descent. That one actually had been an accident, but he still logged it away for later. Knowing Peter's tickle spots had proved useful as a payback method, he was sure yours would too if needed.

Rocket had just touched down on the floor when Peter sheepishly came in to tell you to come into the sitting room because he needed to show you something. Having a feeling it wasn't going to be good, you sighed and followed him, leaving the raccoon behind.

He was dismayed, however, when your only response to seeing the "broken" TV was to just sigh and say flatly, "Well, I hope you enjoy reading then. Like I told you before, I'm not replacing it."

He blinked. "Wait- you're not mad??" This was not the reaction he expected. He was sure you'd yell at him. You yelled at Rocket when he spilled tomato sauce all over the kitchen, surely you would have had a similar reaction now?

You just stare at him. "While I'm frustrated that you can't respect other people's property enough not to break it, I barely use it anymore since I'm always- well, I was almost always gone for work. Soon as you guys leave it'll be the same. No sense in rewarding bad behavior by getting another for you guys to use when I doubt I'll be using it much once you leave."

Peter rolled his eyes and picked up the controller. "Ugh, you're no fun!" he complained, turning off the video and revealing the TV wasn't actually broken.

"Wait, so that was a prank?" You say in realization.

"Well, yeah!" Peter said in frustration. "It was supposed to be!" Honestly, he was hoping you world have been mad. It would have been funny to reveal the lack after you lost it. But no, of course you would have just hit him with some version of "I'm not mad, just disappointed."

"You know, for someone who keeps claiming to be 'the prank master,' your pranks are kinda lame." You grinned at him. Sure, maybe not all his pranks were lame- the broken screen on might have been a good one had he done it to anyone else, but you'd still say they were to annoy him.

"Oh yeah?" Peter said with a mischievous grin before lunging forward to aim a squeeze-y tickle attack on your sides, making you let out a squeak as you jumped back and smacked him out of reflex.

Giggling, you scold him for being a child and turn to head out of the room, only to bump into Kraglin who just said, "Hi there," before tweaking your ribs.

You laugh and push him away, telling them that they played too much before heading upstairs.

The two men watch you leave and then share a grin. Little did you know, the TV had only been Peter's diversion prank. Not the one that finally made you fully resolve to use the food dye on him.

***

To get him back for both the TV prank and the tickle attack you decided to take a thumbtack from your desk and use it to poke a hole in a can of fizzy drink that you knew only you and he really ever drank. You placed the hole near the top so that when he took a drink it would dribble down onto his shirt and then positioned the can in the fridge towards the front so that he'd grab that one first. It was a clear drink, so you were sure it wouldn't stain. You weren't a complete asshole.

This consideration could be considered ironic, considering what you'd do to him that night.

You grinned from your room when you heard him loudly cursing your name sometime later.

To get you back for that he made use of a few pieces of macaroni pasta he found in the pantry. He went upstairs and placed them under the toilet rim so that when you sat down the sound of them crunching would startle you. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but he knew you were reading upstairs, and most everyone else was downstairs, so he rolled the dice that you'd be the next person to use that toilet.

Awhile later he heard you shout his name in frustration from upstairs and he chuckled in victory. And no, this still wasn't the prank that sealed his fate, although that one was currently in progress...

Sometime later you were in your room on your laptop doing some research and contemplating what a suitable prank might be to get Peter back for the macaroni thing when Mantis came into the room to retrieve something. You switch away from the tab you were in researching tunnel maintenance to one you had open of tumblr and offer her a short greeting.

She returned the greeting and went about her business behind you for a couple minutes.

Then, out of the blue, you felt her fingers skitter up your side. You nearly jump out of your skin from both the startle and the ticklish sensation and a startled laugh escaped your throat as you jerked away in your seat and squeaked out a giggly, "Mantis! What are you doing?!"

She stopped tickling and just giggled in response before jogging out of the room.

You stared after her before returning to your work with a shake of your head. 'Awfully playful bunch tonight,' you thought.

***

A bit later you decided to go out back for some fresh air. When you do, you notice Yondu already out there, leant against the stone of the house and just looking at the clouds pass by.

Not wanting to disturb him you just nod in his direction and say, "Hey," before walking by towards the garden. He returns your greeting and leaves you to it. Or so it seemed.

You reach the garden and stand there in the peace and quiet, glancing over the plants for any sign of insect damage. It's not too long, however, before Yondu walks up behind you and shouts, "Boo!"

You jump right out of your skin and turn to face him. You frown, but before you can ask him what the hell that was for, he starts to tickle your stomach. You laugh out a protest, but he only switches to tickling your ribs instead. You laugh some more and latch onto his wrists to push him away and he relents. Residual giggles still coating your words you scold him. "Jeeze! What was that for?!"

Yondu just grins at you like he was privy to some joke you weren't in on, shrugs, and turns to head back inside without explanation.

You watched him go, beginning to wonder what had gotten into everyone.

***

Turned out it would be Drax who would spill the beans on Peter's prank.

You were minding your own business, washing the dish you had just used for your supper, when you are rudely interrupted by Drax spidering his fingers over your ribs, causing you to laugh out loud and drop the dish in the sink. Luckily it didn't break, but you quickly turn off the tap and spun around to scold him and ask what the big deal was.

You knew something was up now. Rocket might have done it on accident. Peter and Kraglin- well, they just routinely did stuff like that to mess with you. Yondu could also fall in the category of "just did it to mess with you." Mantis- she was playful and it wasn't out of the realm of normal for her to randomly decide to do that just to make you laugh.

Drax, however, though friendly, hadn't shown himself to be the type to just randomly up and decide to tickle someone, namely you, without reason, or ever.

And all of them deciding to do it in one afternoon? No. Something was up.

Drax looked almost confused by your annoyance. "Well the note-"

Your eyes narrowed. "What note?"

"The one on your back."

You quickly reach behind you and feel a piece of paper. Peter. You rip it off and look at it, but find you can't read it. It was written in some alien text. "What's this?" you ask Drax.

"It's the note you taped on your back?" He answers, confused.

"I didn't put this there! I can't even read this! What does it say?" You hand it out towards him, but he doesn't take it.

Instead a look of realization comes over his face and he says. "Oh! This must be one of Peter's practical jokes! Haha! That's a good one. No wonder you looked so surprised!"

"Drax-" you say, your tone frustrated.

"What's going on here?" Gamora asked, having just moments prior walked in on the scene. She walked up to the two of you, concerned she might need to stop a fight before it began. You'd never be able to take on Drax, but she could almost see you trying if he made you angry enough.

You thought that maybe she'd be more help. "Could you tell me what this says? Apparently Peter taped it to my back."

Gamora took the paper and read it. Then she rolled her eyes and huffed a short laugh. "This note reads, 'tickle me.'" It was indeed written in Peter's handwriting, but of all the things he could have written, at least this was innocent enough.

You look up to the ceiling, unamused. You meet her gaze again and say, "Thank you, though respectfully, your boyfriend is a brat."

Gamora smiled. "I'm aware."

You then start towards the frontmost doorway of the kitchen, dish forgotten in the sink, and yell, "PETER! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

This was then followed by the sound of Peter laughing, the sound of running footsteps, and then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.

You stop in your pursuit. "Coward." you mutter.

You knew you might be able to catch him, but decided there was better things you could do with your time. Like refine your plan of counter-attack. You change course and head upstairs to lie in wait.

Unfortunately for Peter, his running away ended up giving you the perfect opportunity to strike.

***

Peter spent his time outside walking about the property and listening to his Zune, which he luckily had in his pocket when he fled from the house. He was almost surprised you didn't try to track him down, but he brushed it off, satisfied with his prank and how well it had apparently worked/ how long it took you to realize what he'd done.

He knew it was bold to try and get you back with basically the same prank you had just attempted to pull on him, and so that's why he paid Rocket to pretend like he was climbing on you to reach something so he could be the one to plant it on you. You would have absolutely suspected Peter if he came patting a sign on your back right after you had just pulled that prank on him. The other pranks he pulled were mostly just to cover his tracks. And because it was too fun not to pull them.

It was getting dark by the time he came back in and was late enough that everyone else had apparently already gone to bed as no one was downstairs. He was getting pretty tired himself and almost considered skipping showering that night, but decided against it. Big mistake for him.

Once he got upstairs and gathered his things to go shower he headed for the bathroom. Upon getting closer to the door you emerged from the room and seemed to jump back, startled to see him.

Peter snickered. "Did I scare you?"

You roll your eyes and turn towards your room. "No," you answer.

"Uh huh, sure." He grinned smugly.

"Oh, just go wash your stinky ass, already." you call back as you walk towards your room.

Peter gasped in mock-offense. "I'll let you know my 'stinky ass' smells like a pretty flower!" he joked.

You turn back at your doorway and retort with, "A corpse flower, maybe."

Peter scrunches up his face. "That's not a thing. You just made that up!"

"No, it's totally a thing. Look it up," you respond, laughing. You shut your door before he can respond further.

He shakes his head and enters the bathroom, muttering, "That's so not a thing."

***

You stayed up to hear the aftermath, and it didn't take too long.

Maybe ten minutes later you hear Peter curse your name, followed by, "What did you do?!"

You couldn't help yourself. You stand up to go peak out your door, biting your lip to hold back giggles. When you look out you see that Peter is now standing outside the bathroom, and that his outburst had also prompted the others to look out their doors as well. Kraglin was the first to start laughing.

The prank went better than you might have hoped. Peter only had a towel around his waist, allowing you to see that he was stained in an uneven coat of blue. Most of it was around his head, chest, and shoulders. It seemed to get lighter the further down his body it went, but it was more than enough to satisfy you. You hadn't been fully certain it would work.

When Peter didn't come back until after most everyone had gone to bed, you realized you had the perfect opportunity to carry out the prank. You did still have to wait until everyone else had finished showering though. You didn't want anyone get caught in the crossfire.

You waited for the second you heard him come back inside, just in case, and then you made your way into the bathroom with the vial of food gel. You unscrewed the shower head from its hose, squirted the whole vial in the head portion, then carefully screwed it back on. You were sure he'd take his shower before bed like always and felt safe to boobie-trap the shower head now since everyone else had already washed up for bed.

You did see his bottle of shower gel in the bath as you set up the prank and realized in hindsight that you could have just put the food dye in there instead so you wouldn't have needed to time everything so perfectly. On the other hand, you also didn't quite want to ruin his whole bottle of soap, so it was probably best you went for the shower head method instead.

Either way, it didn't disappoint.

You bit back laughter as you said, "Feeling a little... blue, there, Peter?"

He shot a look at you and responded with, "You massive turd! What did you do?!"

You feel Mantis come to look over your shoulder and she starts giggling at the sight of Peter. "Did you play a practical joke?" Mantis asks you. "That's so funny!"

Peter looks like he's about to storm over to you when Drax can be heard saying, "See! I knew Yondu was his father! Quill's finally starting to grow into his color!"

You couldn't tell if Drax was joking or not, but his comment started off a new round of giggles from Mantis, Kraglin, Rocket, and little Groot.

Peter just glared at him.

Yondu was standing next to Kraglin in the doorway of their room looking both contemplative and sleepy.

"Hey, Quill," Yondu said, getting Peter's attention. "Remember how ya rigged those dye packs up in my dresser drawers as a boy? Looks like ya finally got someone to give ya a taste of your own medicine." With that he made a sleepy retreat back to bed. His comment earned a laugh from Gamora, which made Peter pout.

A slight blush over Peter's cheeks appeared violet through the blue dye. He looked at you again and said, "You're so gonna get it!"

This of course prompted you to quickly usher Mantis back so you could shut the door and flick the lock, laughing as you did so.

It was totally worth it.

#gotg #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #starlord #pranks #rocket raccoon #mantis #kraglin obfonteri #drax the destroyer

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1kook · 4 years

Text

commercial break ; SIX

this is part of my netflix & chill series this is foreshadowing for the next fic 👀

summary; Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. warnings; smut in the forms of riding, penetration, soft sex rating; mature (18+) misceallenous; jungkook thinks a lot.... and they're not always pg things... word count; 1.8k

notes; i have been neglecting my og jk dream team couple so here we are! anyway please look [ here ] and remember this face ....

He’s never minded taking the reins before, but there’s something distinctly carnal that flashes in Jungkook’s chest when you ask to ride him that morning. The sun filtering in through the window beside him captures the entirety of your beauty on top of him, endless expanses of soft skin and dips and curves. “Pretty,” he sighs, hands on your hips. You’re so tired but so gorgeous, supple breasts bouncing in his face, eyelashes kissing your cheeks with each sleepy blink. Rarely do you push him down like this, hands on his chest as you whimper and grind yourself to completion, but Jungkook certainly wasn’t complaining.

In all the time he’s known you, Jungkook’s become quite familiar with your sexual prowess. You liked to play the opposite game with him, seduce him and push him until he snapped and took you over a table or cuffed you to a bed, all blessed experiences that he treasures very much. He loved how you sounded bent over the kitchen counter, or shoved against the sheets. If Jungkook had to pinpoint the exact moment his horniness skyrocketed, it was definitely the second his name left your lips in a breathy little whimper. He adored you and your body, liked taking care of you.

But every now and then… he liked to be pampered.

Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. Blindfolding you and having you cum on a riding crop was definitely the highest on the list and that was done; after that incident he’s woken many a night with a rock hard cock in his sleep shorts like some dorky teenager fantasizing about his girlfriend. And on the nights you didn’t sleep over, he was forced to fend for himself, the tape recorder in his brain recalling every single thing that had happened that night.

But now it was time to move onto the next, and that next bullet point on his imaginary list was letting you fuck yourself on his cock with no help at all.

Most times you rode him you tended to give up halfway through. You started off strong, overexcited glint in your eyes as you rabidly fucked yourself on him. But your natural pillow princess tendencies (no shade) always won over, always had you softly begging him to help. He’s always been more than happy to, especially if it meant coming sooner, but sometimes Jungkook just wanted to be used. Wanted to be pushed down and taken advantage of, especially if that was at your hands. It was a concept that probably went against everything your sexual relationship was built upon; him being the submissive one was about as rare as you not play-fighting back. And still, Jungkook wanted more than anything in the world to see that side of you, that femdom, as Doyeon had so meanly teased him about once.

So here he is, partially living that fantasy as you slide up and down on his cock. You’ve got one hand on his lower abdomen, the other on the top of a thigh, working yourself against him lazily. It’s not at the intensity of Jungkook’s dreams, but it sure is a sight. “B-Bend your knee for me, honey,” you pant, and Jungkook does, pulling his leg up until you’re sloppily using it as leverage to bounce on him. “G-Good boy,” you rasp.

It’s that word, that wretched word that makes something in Jungkook go soft, throw the past year of training out the window. He likes to think he’s in charge— he is —but every now and then you use that word against Jungkook and it’s like everything is reversed and always has been. Like it’s always been you leading sex, you telling him how good he is, and not the other way around.

He groans, tightens his hands on your hips as you continue bouncing away. Every glide of your warm folds around his cock makes his heart lurch, makes him want to bury himself inside of you and never leave. Jungkook would never admit it to your or anyone, but there was this rather clingy side of him that reared its ugly head when you were involved. He never wants anyone else to see you like this, never wants anyone else to feel you like this, which is where his spiraling begins.

You see, below that being-pushed-down-by-my-girlfriend point was another, slightly overlooked point, that entrenched upon dangerous, almost taboo territory. And that was stuffing you full of his cum— off birth control —and watching you swell and swell until there was no way you couldn’t be pregnant. And Jungkook, for some odd reason, wanted that really badly.

A soft groan above him, a lazy smile on your face as you reach down to idly toy with your clit, pussy flush against the base of his cock now. He knows better than to tell you to move because it’ll break this tender moment, this unique experience of you using him like some glorified dildo like he so desperately wanted sometimes. So he shuts his lips, goes back to that other fantasy that is only fueled by the soft swell of your tits when you move.

God, they would get so big, he thinks. Would be so round, just like the rest of you, and bursting with milk. It’s for the baby, for the baby, he tells himself, but there’s image in his head, this so terribly wrong image, of him suckling your breasts, holding your waist as the milk drips down his chin and over your skin, senses overwhelmed as he does something he’s definitely not supposed to. But you’d be so sweet, his mind says, would be so sweet and... full of life.

Above him, you giggle deliriously, sweat dripping down the slope of your neck. For a second he wonders if you’ve somehow tapped into his thoughts, seen all his perverted fantasies, but then you’re looking at him with that adoring gaze that makes his heart burst. “Pretty boy,” you tease, rolling your hips forward until that cute little button above your slit is grinding against him.

Yes, he certainly was your pretty boy, your good boy— he was whatever boy you wanted him to be. Why? Because he was so in love with you that the mere thought of you not being his and him not being yours made him gag. He just wanted you, so soft and warm around him, for the rest of his life. Maybe a belly? Maybe a child? Jungkook wanted it all, and his dick throbs at the mere idea of you possibly giving him that and more.

He was completely lost in his thoughts, never to be seen again.

A muffled whimper, so airy that it takes Jungkook a moment to realize it came from him. He’s too riled up to feel embarrassed, simply rolls his head from side to side as you clench those puffy walls around him. “C-Cum inside?” he pants, “can I— can I cum inside?” You lean forward; the tip of his engorged cock brushes against a sensitive spot inside of you, pulling a sinful moan from your lips. “P- Please?”

You smile, so pretty and sweet, it makes his dick twitch. “Of course,” you murmur, small hand on the side of his face, hips rolling rhythmically. “Wh- what’s that thing you said the other day?” you shiver, sleek skin catching the rays of the sun perfectly. A glittering highlight decorates your body, and that only tightens the coil in his stomach until it’s springing up with insane force. “Baby?”

“Yes?” he grunts, every muscle fiber in his body needed to hold even the smallest semblance of self control.

A giggle from you as he dazedly looks up. “Not you,” you chuckle, leaning down to sweetly peck him on the lips. It’s so soft and gentle, just like everything else about you. It takes everything in his body to keep him stable. “Remember?” you purr, hot breathe flush against his skin. “You wanted to put a baby in me.”

His hips jerk, a moan spilling from his lips that he doesn’t catch fast enough. “N-No,” he mewls, turning his face away from you like maybe it’ll prolong his orgasm, maybe it’ll lessen the aching heat around his cock. He can’t possibly hear those words from your lips, not when he knows you’re on birth control and that that notion is physically impossible right now. It’ll plant a terrible seed in his head, ruin Jungkook for weeks.

But you’re nothing if not persistent, forcing yourself down against him as he begins violently blushing, trying to mask his excitement. “Baby?” you repeat, as if he’s a puppy hearing the words ‘outside;’ fuck it, Jungkook thinks, he was whatever you wanted him to be. “Wanna fuck a baby into me, Jungkookie?” you exhale, hot breath against his ear. His hips spasm a second time, send you rolling down his cock with those perky nipples flush against his chest. “Mmmh, come on, honey… need you to work for it.”

And work Jungkook does.

His hands wrap around your frame, pull you flush against his body. Feet against the bed, thighs tense, he begins rapidly thrusting up into the warm entrance of your pussy, where yours and his cum seep out together. It’s slippery and wet, but not wet enough — he wants to feel his cum around himself, feel it bulge inside your stomach until you physically can’t hold anymore. “G-Good boy,” you whine, lips raining down featherlight smooches along his jawline. “Doing so good for me, honey—“

You’re cut off by the earth-shattering orgasm that consumes Jungkook, an almost feral groan that tears itself from his throat. “Mine, mine,” he sobs, doesn’t recognize his own voice in his ears. “Gonna be mine.”

A stuttered reply as your juices join his, leak down his softening cock until the sticky sweet fluid makes him feel dirty. It’s not even 8 AM yet and he’s already covered in cum. But it’s worth it when you lean back with that pretty smile, push his damp hair away from his sweaty face with the practiced touch of an angel. “Did you like that?” you ask softly, not making to move off of him. In fact, Jungkook swears you squeeze around his quickly limpening cock.

Any other woman he thinks he might have been embarrassed, die from humiliation of presenting her with a soft dick. But with you, it’s comfortable. It’s sweet and soft, your silky folds milking the last of his cum straight out of his cock. Jungkook whimpers, head bobbing at your question. You cup his face in your hands, fingers like butterflies against his skin. He swears he could transcend right now.

Another languid kiss, tongue lazily toying with his until his mouth feels heavy from the saliva you push down his throat. The light filtering in through the window paints your skin in soft colors, makes him feel so warm and loved; he could die like this and not feel an inch of remorse.

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut #mine

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

hi nat! huge fan of your blog and finally taking the time to send a request of my own in ❤ I'd like to request a fem reader total power exchange with either Kars or Diavolo (dealer's choice!). I just absolutely love them both so much and really love the idea of them just having total control over me and taking care of me in what they know is best for me 🥺 ideally I'd like size difference and breeding kink featured as well if that's possible! thank you so much in advance if you decide to do this!

obedience - kars x fem!reader

it’s so easy to give yourself up to kars.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. breeding kink, total power exchange, size difference - coming inside, dub-con if you squint but it’s not intended to be (reader is just very happy to have kars be utterly in charge of them). nsfw, minors dni!

It’s so easy to give yourself up to Kars.

So simple, to let him take the reins and to just do what he wants. Despite the power that thrums in his veins, he is gentle with you – reminded of your human frailty, as he treats you like a favoured doll. He bids you to do things, and you do them with a smile on your face and your head empty of anything but pleasing him. It’s freeing. It’s wonderful. And you’re often rewarded for your obedience to the tune of fingers carding through your hair, Kars’ soft murmurs that you’re doing well, and the feel of being pressed into a bed so soft you can barely stand it.

“Kiss me,” murmurs the creature bent over you. He dwarfs you in stature and breadth; towering over your smaller form, his muscles rippling in the light. He’s so strong as he touches you, readjusting your body beneath him to ensure that you’re helpless and splayed and he can drink you in like a glass of fine wine.

You do; not listening to one of his orders is utterly unthinkable. You arch your back to press your lips against his (there’s the faintest taste of blood on him, but that is quickly overtaken by the way that his scent wraps around you in a comforting embrace). He takes control of the kiss easily, sharp teeth tugging at your lower lip, a pleased hum reverberating into the cavern of your mouth. Big hands come to your hips, gently pushing up the filmy material that he gives you to wear.

It leaves little to the imagination, but Kars bids you wear it, so you wrap the diaphanous fabrics about yourself and smile. Kars’ eyes drink you in; the way the sheer fabric clings to your body, and you feel transformed and beautiful and his.

His hands are so large on your hips; he could toss you anywhere he wanted and it would probably not bring forth more than a smile from his lips. He slides them further up, so that they brush the curve of your waist and the swell of your breast – your breath catches at that, his palms rough against your sensitive nipples. He’s so cold; you find yourself shivering. And then, Kars murmurs;

“Be still, little pet,” and you steel yourself for the cold of his fingertips and touch, pushing back the shivers that want to wrack your body. He rewards you with a curve of his lips, a light squeeze to your breast that has your face flushing hot and desire pooling between your thighs. “Good.”

You relish the praise. He does not need to praise you – you are his already, and if he degraded you you would take it with a soft smile and the knowledge that he has total power over you – but it still makes heat bloom in your stomach, your own mouth curving in a mirror of his as he lets out a soft noise as thumbs brush your collarbone.

“Pet,” he says, soft and dark, his voice so deep and commanding that it makes your toes curl. “Tonight I am going to breed you.”

A soft noise escapes your throat at the way he’s looking at you; all hungry and wanting. He does not ask it as a question – you are his unconditionally, and that means his body is yours to do as he wills with. Your teeth bite down into your bottom lip as you look into his clear, certain gaze.

He smiles at your obedience; the way that as his hands once more travel down your soft skin, you push yourself into his grip, relishing the feel of his fingers upon your skin.

“So small,” he murmurs, as his hands wrap almost entirely around your thigh. It’s not that you are a particularly small person – it’s merely that Kars is so huge that all humans are like delicate little dolls to him. He could snap you in half if he wanted – and if he did, you think, you his so completely and utterly that you would probably merely thank him for it. His hands pry your thighs apart, so he can look at the glistening space between your thighs; needy and slick with how he touches you and how he speaks to you. “Ah. You’re ready for me already.”

You always are. You’re trained to hear the sound of his voice and feel the slick pool between your legs; you had trained yourself into doing it, wanting so badly to impress him and be the perfect little pet he’d murmured that he thought you would make.

You don’t speak, because he has not bid you to do so; but your hips tilt in a wordless plea to touch you there before you go mad with the want of it. The pad of one huge finger descends, swiping through your slit with a pleased hum – you open your mouth obediently as he brings it to your lips. His finger alone is bigger than some human cocks. Your tongue pliantly swirls around it, the essence of you flooding your mouth.

“How do you taste?” He asks, with a light lilt – and where once you would have been embarrassed and stammering, now you simply blink honey-slow at him and murmur;

“Sweet.”

“Yes,” he hums in agreement.

He shifts closer to you on the bed, your body sinking into the feather-soft pillows as your hips are rearranged just so and Kars slots his muscular thighs in between you. The stretch of how far apart your legs need to be to allow for his girth burns, but you do not say anything because you are in exactly the position you are meant to be in.

His thick cock brushes your thigh and you shiver, feeling your hole flutter in excitement. The head of him pushes against your entrance – thick, and wide, and perfect. You relax into the feeling of him pushing his cock inside you. The stretch of him inside of your tight channel is familiar in its intensity; comforting in its inexorable progress. This is what you are supposed to do. This is right.

His hands fasten beneath your knees, pushing you into a position that has you feeling every ridge and vein of his cock inside of you. He does not bottom out – you cannot handle that, even with all of your careful training and desire to please. But you take two thirds of his cock and he seems pleased as he pulls back, readying himself to take you at the brutal, punishing pace that he always uses with you.

You do not mind. You like being beneath him, as his thrusts make your entire body shiver. There is nothing in the world except Kars’ skin on yours, the feel of him stretching you wide open, the insistent pounding as his cock hits that spongy spot of pleasure inside of you with every thrust. You can feel your breasts bouncing as you’re pounded into the mattress below, but you do not make any sound more than soft whimpers and pants – Kars prefers that, and you want nothing more than to be his perfect little pet.

You easily lose track of how long you’ve been bent in half like this; Kars’ stamina is unrivalled. You feel yourself ache and sweat and pant, tears in your eyes and drool trickling from the corner of your mouth, but you say nothing. Kars uses you as he sees fit, and you enjoy being used.

His cock continues to brush against that centre of pleasure buried inside of you, and you feel yourself teeter on the brink of an orgasm. Your fingers dig hard into the bed beneath you, head thrown back, vulnerable throat exposed as all of the tension inside of you fades to one pinprick point and you come around his cock, gushing and spasming. You’re hot and oversensitive all over, but you do not make a noise about it aside from the heavy breathing – Kars has not reached his own peak yet, and that is far more important than your trembling body. Kars groans in pleasure at the submissive way you let him use you, the way you do not plead tearfully that it is too much – it is never too much for you, if Kars is the one making you feel this way. You treasure the noise – Kars is so often silent when he fucks you with nothing more than the pleased half-lidded look of his eyes to suggest that he’s even enjoying himself.

He continues to fuck into you, as the aftershocks finally recede and you simply feel a little sore and sensitive. His hips are getting faster (how long as it been? Beneath Kars, it often feels as though time has no meaning – there is no important way to mark it except ‘Kars has not come yet’). You look at him with tears of pleasure still blearing your vision, and you swear that you see his fangs dig into his bottom lip as his eyes sweep over your sweet, submissive form. His hips falter. His cock – huge and hot and thick – twitches.

And you feel him come inside of you, ropes of his release painting your insides white as the sensation pushes you over into another trembling orgasm.

Well. Not quite just the sensation, though the feel of being flooded and filled certainly helps; but the knowledge that Kars sees you as worthy of taking his seed, of breeding you . . . That pushes you over the edge too, his cock not stilling as he pumps his load as deep into you as it can possibly go.

You’re limp as he slides his cock out of you. He does not let go of your thighs, where he’s practically pressing your knees to your chest – he kneels between them, satisfied as he looks down at the dripping mess of his come (he always comes so much, so your stomach distends slightly – sometimes he pushes on the light bulge and watches it leak out of you with hunger in his eye) where it decorates your slit.

“I’ll keep you in this position for a while,” he rumbles. “To make sure it takes. And if not . . .” His smile is the smile of a wolf looking at a little rabbit. “Well. You’ll let me try again, won’t you?”

Your answer is instantaneous.

“Always, My Lord.”

#kars x reader #jjba x reader #not sfw #writing #kars #afab reader #fem pronouns #breeding kink for ts #jojo postin #Anonymous

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itszemo · 3 years

Text

( * & . --- RESCUE ME .

* helmut zemo x gn!reader . warnings for heavy angst, referenced rape ( not by zemo ), aftermath of torture, suicidal ideation & suicide attempt . — ‘ 1812 words ’

( BLOOD ) IT'S THE SMELL of blood that makes Zemo gag. Not the sight of the wounds themselves, or the knowledge of what your captors must have done to you: it’s the thick and heady scent of copper in the air that shoves its way down his throat and almost makes him sick.

Almost. His hands are steady — slick with sweat and clammy from adrenaline, but perfectly capable of aiming his gun. He takes out the jailer in your cell. He takes out the men who rush to his aid. He stuns the agents running toward him down the hall.

He doesn’t touch you. The smell of burned armor and burnt skin replaces the scent of blood. He turns, and through the smoke he sees little flashes that will stay with him forever: hair matted with blood, skin bruised so dark that for one brief moment Zemo thinks it’s rotting.

Open wounds, circular burn marks from where someone pressed a hot weapon against your stomach and thighs. Dried blood, the crust of cum on your legs, your back, your chest, your face. The deep lines worn into your wrists from where your captors used wire instead of handcuffs, favoring pain over efficiency, confident that they’d broken you so badly you couldn’t escape.

You are his target. You are nude and barely breathing. You are the person who helped Wanda and Pietro which resulted in the destruction of his country. You are lying in your own urine on the floor, unable to stand.

You are one of Hydra's super powered experiment, and you've been raped by men who once called themselves SHIELD agents.

Zemo takes a deep breath and cuts the ties around your wrists.

( THE SERUM ) “That’s all I can do.” Zemo says, standing from a crouch. He tosses his hands up, a muted gesture of helplessness. Your eyes follow his hands like you're expecting a blow, but your expression is weary, not cautious; if Zemo were to hit you, he doubts you would even flinch.

The serum running through your body has taken care of the deep wounds around your wrists, and it’s eradicated the infected cuts on your back and thighs. Perhaps it will dull the pain of your burn wounds; perhaps not. There was little that could be done by the time Zemo got to them. He stands over you, who sit half-dressed on a sofa in Zemo's hotel room, wrists crossed loosely over your knee.

Head bowed. If not for the strain and exhaustion in your posture, you might look natural. Even if you did look natural, the antiseptic smell hanging around you would give you away.

“You want to talk about it?” Zemo asks. He can see you staring at his worn leather boots; your own feet are bare, your bruised and bloody toes peeking out from behind bandages. Your toenails are gone, your soles flogged raw.

“What information do you need?” You ask, tone placid, conversational.

It takes Zemo a moment to realize you’re having different conversations. He wants to know how badly you were hurt; you think this is an interrogation. He hesitates, sits beside you on the sofa.

“They raped you.” He says.

You don’t meet his gaze. You lift your chin, stare at the tv opposite you with cool eyes and a tight jaw.

“I am their soldier.” You say with neither pride nor shame, just stating a fact. “I have been tortured before, Colonel. Haven’t you?”

Zemo’s lips lift in a half-smile, no real amusement. He says nothing.

After a moment, so subtly it could be classified as an accident, you shift in your seat, your arm brushing against his. A light touch, barely there. Zemo sneaks a glance at your face, sees a glaze of confusion in your eyes, a hint of fear. He understands the touch for what it is: not comfort, exactly, but grounding.

There are a million things Zemo could be doing, plotting his revenge plan against the avengers chief among them, but for now, he doesn’t move.

( BRUISES ) They won’t fade for weeks. They limit your movements in the shower. Zemo offers help, and you snap out a refusal so harsh that it makes you both freeze, Zemo flushing, you pale. You struggle on your own beneath the water spray, can barely move your arms or bend your legs.

You won’t be clean — truly clean — for quite some time. Won’t be able to rid yourself of the smell of humiliation which lingers on your skin. You wear one of Zemo's old shirts, but beneath the fresh scent of the clean shirt, you swear you catch whiffs of semen and piss. It doesn’t matter that it’s been days since you were rescued; the smell of blood is gone, but those two scents remain.

You stand before the mirror afterward, examine your face. The hum of the shower offers flawless soundproofing, allows you to do whatever you want in here without Zemo finding out. There are a thousand options.

What you do is line your knuckles up with your cheekbone, pull your fist back, and punch yourself in the face.

The first blow is soft, less painful than you want it to be. Your self-preservations instincts have kicked in, making you pull the punch. You don’t let that happen again. You pull back, strike yourself again and again in the same place, until every blow jars you, makes your bones shake in your head, leaves your skin heated and fragile to the touch.

You press your fingers to your cheekbone. You can almost feel the broken blood vessels stinging beneath your skin.

When you sit next to Zemo on the sofa that night, his eyes track up and linger on your new bruise.

He doesn’t say a word.

( BED ) At night, you lie stiff in your bed, unable to find comfort. Your body screams at you no matter how you sleep, but this is best: on your back, arms crossed as much as you can manage over your stomach, legs straight and slightly spread. You stare up at the ceiling, Zemo’s bed next to yours. You listen to the former soldier toss and turn in his sleep.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest. You tell yourself the sounds mean nothing; your nervous system tells you otherwise, insists that Zemo is waking, getting out of bed, coming your way. A trickle of heat burns through your chest, into your stomach and bladder, leaves you struggling to breathe as your muscles go limp. You can think of nothing but keeping yourself in control, not letting fight-or-flight get the best of you. You focus so hard on this that you can’t stop your breath from whistling through your teeth, nor can you stifle the frightened groan that escapes your lips, completely involuntary.

In the bed next to you, Zemo goes still. His voice is thick and rough from sleep.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

You clench your fist, drive your knuckles into a bruise on your ribs, let the pain bring you back. Your captor is asking you if you’re alright. When you say nothing, Zemo looks to his side and peeks at you, his face impossible to read.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “I won't harm you.”

He won't harm you. How the hell are you supposed to answer to that?

( GUN ) Zemo notices it’s missing from his holster at the worst time: when he’s fighting two HYDRA agents that came looking for you. He manages to fight them off, kills them and stands, nerves jangling, crossing to the cramped hotel room space that he and you have made into a temporary home.

He finds you sitting on the edge of your bed. Your shirt is lifted, revealing the blood-stained bandages beneath; they need changing, but there’s nothing left to change them with. Clasped loosely in your hand, which rests at your side, is Zemo's gun.

Zemo swallows. His throat is dry.

“Hey.” He says, his voice a rasp.

Your eyes meet his. You lift the gun a little, point it not at Zemo but at yourself. There’s no expression on your face, no emotion in your eyes, as you raise it and press the barrel beneath your chin.

You don’t speak as Zemo approaches. Your grip on the gun stays loose; you make no attempt to pull the trigger. When Zemo takes the gun away, sets it aside, you put up only the briefest of fights: your grip on the handle tightens, your hand spasms, you let it go.

You don’t react when Zemo's hands land on your shoulders, squeezing gently, turning you to face him. Your gaze is haughty, exasperated, dignified and unashamed; you're ready to argue that you have a right to kill yourself, that you won’t reveal any new secrets about your powers in another round of torture, that you don’t trust him and there’s nothing Zemo can do to convince you. Zemo can see the arguments boiling in your eyes.

But when he pulls you forward, you crumble into his arms.

( BREATHE ) The air in Sokovia is cold and misty in the morning, the kind of air that can coat your lungs in frost. But it will warm up soon, when the sun is high. For now, Zemo drapes his coat over your shoulders, places one hand flat between your shoulder blades for support.

You stand on the stairs of Zemo’s private plane, looking down at the rubble that remains of Sokovia. A few curious looks are thrown your way. Nobody rushes to put you in cuffs; few people seem to recognize you from the battle, and those who do only look at Zemo in surprise, then scowl and move along.

“I told you nobody would pay you too much attention.” Zemo says softly.

You say nothing. Your teeth are clenched, your face blank. You blink rapidly and wait for the mist to crash to the ground, for the image before you to fracture into nothing. For the space in front of you to glitch and turn into your cell walls, the scent of blood.

You blink. You blink again, the bruise on your cheekbone stinging in the cool air. Zemo's hand on your back is warm and broad and magnetic, keeping you upright, keeping you still. You swallow past a tight throat and watch the sky blur.

Now. Now it will dissolve, reveal itself for a hallucination. Now it will become your cell again.

But you blink and the blurriness intensifies then fades, a tear blazing down your cheek, over your self-inflicted bruise, too hot and immediate to ignore or classify as a delusion. You feel Zemo’s hand flex on your back, reminding you that he’s there.

“Breathe.” Zemo says. “And we can go down when you’re ready.”

You breathe.

‘ @noavengers ’ — comment to be added to my taglist .

#* • HELMUT ZEMO x READER ; ———————— ONESHOT.#zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader

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pxnk-velvet · 4 years

Note

congrats on the milestone !! can i get kuroo x reader to the song moments by alextbh ? ❤️

𝑀𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 [NSFW!]

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑜 𝑇𝑒𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑜 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

✧ word count :: 1.5k

✧ summary :: After a pretty bad break up, Kuroo finally gets the chance to tell Y/n how he really feels about her. Not only leading to confession of heart and mind, but body too.

✧ warnings :: nsfw!, mentions of a breakup (not w/ kuroo), fluff, intended for mature readers only

✧ a/n :: This is my first time writing for Kuroo so I’m sorry if it doesn’t seem like him lol 😅 and as always reblogs and feed back are always appreciated. Come stop by the party and have some fun for a while!

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

It had already been weeks since Y/n had broken up with her ex, yet she was still experiencing repercussions. It felt like the pieces of her heart were scattered in her chest, in desperate need of being put back together.

Her friends had suggested hooking up with another guy to get her mind off of things but inevitably she simply wasn’t the type to do so. Often developing feelings quickly and getting attached at the snap of a finger.

It had taken so much of a toll on her to the point where it had begun to affect her academics. Her grades automatically plummeted right after her heartbreak and now she was having a hard time getting them back to where they used to be.

Hence why she was now currently seated against Kuroo’s headboard while he sat in his desk chair by the edge of the bed. Open textbooks and notes scattered across the bed sheets, her head tucked between her knees as she groaned.

“Why do I have to do so much work?” Y/n whined, setting her notebook beside her to stretch her legs out and rest her eyes for a bit.

As her eyes were closed Kuroo’s trailed up the length of her legs, admiring how soft they looked, appreciating the fact that she didn’t wear tights today. Sporting only the cute little skirt that was part of the girls uniform.

“Well for starters, if you hadn’t slacked off for so long then maybe you wouldn’t have fallen so behind?” He mused, picking up an inquisitive tone towards the end of his sentence. Softening the words, hoping they wouldn’t hit a nerve considering her situation.

Since the day he had heard about what happened, he had done everything he could to help out. Granted that they had only been friends before hand, not nearly as close as they are now. But still, he worried for his team’s manager, his friend, the girl he cared so deeply for. He rode out his feelings hoping that they would dissipate while she was dating her ex, only to discover that he had simply fallen for her even harder. Now, he figured it was the perfect time to tell her how he felt. Using every opportunity he could make to spend time with her.

“It’s not like I chose to be broken up with Tetsu…” Y/n muttered, turning away from him, curling her legs up to her chest, which was now starting to fill with the sad sinking feeling she was trying so hard not to acknowledge anymore.

Ever since she had started spending more time with Kuroo, she had begun to actually appreciate time with him outside of volleyball. Getting excited, a giddy feeling bubbling in her chest whenever she realized she had a tutoring session with him. She wanted to be around him so often because he made her forget it all. Like she was herself again and not some heart broken girl that moped around all day. Yet she didn’t know if she was ready to pursue another relationship so quickly, still hesitant about making any moves. Hell, she didn’t even know if he actually liked her or if it was his usual flirtatious, friendly attitude. He truly was a good friend but that is what made it so hard to decipher.

Little did she know he was essentially thinking the same thing, he wanted so badly to make Y/n his but he didn’t want to overwhelm her so quickly. He had spent countless nights laying awake, thinking about her. The way she walked, the way she talked, wondering what her lips felt like. Thinking about waking up next to her, making her breakfast in the mornings. Just spending time with her, he wanted to treat her right. Make moments with her that would last forever. Engraved in their hearts and minds, and hopefully, eventually seal it all with a ring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He tried to apologize, placing his hand on her leg to get her attention.

“I know, it’s fine. I’m just tired.” She sighed heavily as she turned back to him, sitting up to face him properly, “Like I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I know I’m over him but I just can't get rid of all these feelings swirling around in my chest and I don’t know what to do, Tetsu.” She spoke softly in hopes he wouldn’t hear the shakiness in her words as her eyes glassed over.

In that moment, Kuroo thought long and hard in the matter of seconds. Was this his chance? That one opportunity, that one moment where he could finally change things for the better?

“Y/n,” He began, the confident demeanor he usually dawned all of a sudden gone, “I honestly don’t know if this is the right time to say this. And I totally understand if you’re not ready and never want to talk to me again but I just need to tell you. I think it’ll be better for the both of us.”

As he spoke, Y/n’s heart rate began to pick up, suddenly hyper aware of how loud it was beating. Echoing in her head, trying to dismiss it as Kuroo continued. Yet someone how her mind was already jumping to conclusions, a million scenarios playing out in her head all at once.

“Um- I, uh-...I like you a lot. I have for a while now. And obviously I’m hoping you like me to but, again, no pressure especially since you just got out of a relationship not too long ago and you might not be ready-” Kuroo’s rambling was interrupted by the feeling of warm, soft lips.

A wave of euphoria took over his senses as he was pulled by the collar of his shirt to meet Y/n’s lips in the middle. The shock that was evident on his wide eyes immediately washed away, allowing himself to fall victim to the moment. A warmth growing in his chest realizing that he finally got to fulfill it all with her, every waking moment he had spent with her was all starting to make even more sense.

Relishing in her touch, her presence. Savoring every time their lips would part and meet again in yet another passionate kiss. Her lips plush and sweet, tasting of her strawberry chapstick.

Eventually, the books and papers that littered the bed earlier were long forgotten and scattered on the floor. The soft, gentle kisses had grown to ones of desire and lust, clothes being shed by the minute as Y/n and Kuroo became tangled in the sheets.

It didn’t take long until they were pressed chest to chest, hands wandering as Kuroo’s lips trailed from her lips, nipping her jaw, eventually trailing lower to her neck. Paying extra attention to the column of her throat, noting the sultry moans that fell from her lips as he did so.

“Y/n,” Kuroo abruptly pulled away from her, towering over her smaller frame, “Are you sure you want to do this? Because like I said before I don’t want to rush-”

“Kuroo, do you really think I’d be naked under you if I didn’t?” Her voice dripping with sarcasm, correcting herself a second later with a softer voice, “But thank you for your concern. I appreciate you being so thoughtful.” A blush crept up her cheeks as her hands trailed up his broad chest, fingers tracing the strong muscles underneath.

“Anything for you,” The captain’s head fell into the junction between her neck and shoulder, placing a chaste kiss on the warm skin, “Let me show you how long I’ve waited. To make moments like this with you. To treat you right and learn more than there is to know about you.”

In that moment everything felt right, like this was exactly where they were both meant to be. Limps tangled as their lips met in another kiss. Driven by the growing tension that was rising between them, lust evident in every move they made.

Soon enough, breathing became feathery and hot as Kuroo’s hips rocked into hers. His face buried in her neck as her hands clasped his back, little moon crescent marks and scratches littered across his shoulders. With a firm grip, he sat up, eyes wandering to where he clasped her hips. Admiring the divots his fingers imprinted as they dug into the plush skin, surely to leave pretty bruises for later.

“Kuroo, I-” Y/n whined, voice just above a whisper, eyebrows knit together, desperate for release. He could tell she was close by the way her walls fluttered around his length, only enticing him closer to his own release.

“I know, cum for me. I’ve got you.” He sang out, gently cupping her cheek with his large hand, continuing to thrust up into her.

He watched in awe as he drove her over the edge, face morphing to the pleasure rippling throughout her body. The muscles in her lower abdomen going taunt as they spasmed with her release. Mouth hanging open, a pretty drawn out cry leaving her lips as she peaked, triggering Kuroo’s own high.

To which his body fell forward, again chest to chest with Y/n as he brought her in for a kiss. Taking in every shake and cry she uttered, all because of him.

With his head on her shoulder, Kuroo caught his breath, arms snaking around her waist to bring Y/n impossibly closer to him as he embraced her tightly.

“Thank you.” He mumbled against her skin, kissing it softly after he spoke.

A giggle rang in his ears, “For what?”

He smiled, breathing in her scent and just soaking in her presence all together, “For making every moment worth waiting for.”

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.

#pxnkvelvet’s party! 🥳#pxnkvelvet::spice::#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #hq kuroo #haikyuu smut

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 3 years

Note

Please please please, may i please request a prussia/reader drabble (oneshot?? what ever is easier for you honestly) for the prompt: “Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.”?? thank you so much and i love your writings <3

Hello, Lovely~ Wanted to thank you for your patience. Couldn't quite get the perfect scene in mind till about 1:14 am this morning. Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the request!

In a world that never seemed to rest, tranquility had become an elusive mistress, an antiquated ideal that was valuable for its rarity alone. There were many who would never find such a thing, or would be cursed with just a brief glimpse before it slipped away once more, never to return.

Tranquility was a gift, and you had been blessed in multitudes.

A light breeze was rustling the pines towering above you, scents of the nearby stream, forget-me-nots, and the wisps of smoke from the campfire dancing with it.

So tucked away from everything, you couldn't hear any engines, noisy neighbors, or- most fortunately- the impatient pings from your cell demanding your attention.

It was quiet, as quiet as Nature could be when one is sitting near a babbling brook, their swing squeaking on hinges decades older than themselves, birds of all ages serenading the small patches of sunlight reaching the forest floor.

Your foot trailed along the ground beneath you, a path carving in the soil from the steady back-and-forth of the old wooden swing, your head resting comfortably against Gil's chest.

He had one arm loosely draped on the back of the swing, the other extended as he read his paperback, folded over itself to spare himself a little freedom.

You shifted slightly, just a little, and he instinctively followed, adjusting the blanket across your legs and shifting his own to accommodate your new position, all without once removing his attention from the page.

It was approaching midday, and while you had both agreed on a short hike to visit some waterfall or other, you were finding you had no desire to leave just yet, perfectly content and cozy as you were.

You let yourself relax further, eyes closing as you rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady refrain of his heartbeat.

The familiar, unconscious dance of fingers against your upper arm made you smile, his decision to shift his free arm almost as reflexive as your decision to open your palm and rest it directly over his heart.

In a time not so long ago, the very thought of being alone in the same room as him would have been laughable, and now you were alone together in some ancient hunting cabin, leagues away from civilization, and completely at peace.

It struck you in that moment just how ingrained he was into your life, your sphere, your thoughts. You never could have anticipated this level of intimacy, and the unexpected epiphany of just how vulnerable that made you left you reeling.

"It kind of scares me sometimes," the words slipped out in a sigh, a wisp of a murmur that faded as easily as woodsmoke. They hadn't even been loud enough to disturb a trio of hares near the truck, and when several moments passed, you were beginning to hope Gil hadn't heard them at all.

It was more a rumbling than a fully coherent query that finally answered you, his eyes still firmly affixed to the Greek text before him. "What's that?"

Without fully lifting your head, you shifted your angle, giving you the chance to study his features- the small indents on his nose from wearing his glasses so much the past week, the single, nearly invisible freckle just by his left eye, the patch of chapped skin on his lower lip, the intoxicating and inexplicable gradients of indigoes and crimsons in his irises.

He hid nothing from you, every perceived flaw and weakness completely at your mercy. And to know that he could see through all of your own barriers, knew you in-and-out more than you perhaps knew yourself-

But there was trust there, and something so strong that- even years after first naming it, after first defining it, exploring it, embracing it- still left you breathless, still rendered you speechless.

For a moment, it did exactly that, overwhelming you in a wave of emotion so strong that you could scarcely think in the face of it.

But it was a familiar feeling, one so commonplace that you simply sighed again, letting it settle over you like an additional blanket, warmth settling in your veins as you relaxed once more.

"It scares me sometimes how in love I am with you." You traced a pattern with your finger against his shirt, eyes focused on the lupine family enjoying vegetable scraps from the night before. "It scares me how vulnerable you make me feel."

But no. Scared wouldn't be quite the right word for how this vulnerability made you feel. Intimidated, perhaps?

Irregardless, it was such a good feeling, so freeing to be so fully exposed to someone, to know they saw the worst of you and still-

He was resting his head against your own, silence patiently resting between you, the quiet of the forest yet again remaining undisturbed. He had even ceased powering the swing, apart from a small movement with his toes that was likely from his muscle spasms than anything else. You let yourself relax fully, because no matter how suddenly and aggressively this wave of realization had swept you away in its riptide, he would always keep you safe, always anchor you in the face of whatever storms may come.

"You know it's a two-way street, right?"

As if further testament to his knowing you, the words went straight to the core of it all, exposing his own vulnerability to you, proving just how much he had placed his faith in you.

What a perilous place to be, putting so much faith and trust and hope and care and control in someone else's hands, wholeheartedly believing that they will never bring you any harm, that-

"You're not going to leave me, right?"

The question was so sudden, so unexpected, that you took yourself by surprise, not accounting for the deep, tired exhale of the man so gently holding you. "How could you even ask that?"

You started to try taking it back, wishing for all the world you could keep your thoughts more thoroughly reined in, but he was plowing ahead, the arm that had been resting on the swing coming around you, fingers slipping in between your own. "Do you really think I could leave you?"

By all accounts, yes. Yes he could.

His claim to immortality was shaky at best, and there was no guarantee that he wouldn't get bored of you, that someone pushing near 1,000 would wake up one morning and realise that-

"Where the Hell is all of this coming from anyway?"

You gave it a half a moment of thought, and soon found yourself melting in defeat. "I wish I had an answer, but I honestly have no idea."

He resumed his earlier motion, putting the swing back into a steady glide. When he spoke again, it was as if he were reaching across centuries, finding just the right words out of billions to try to comfort you. "To quote some book I read in some teahouse somewhere quite a long ass time ago: 'Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own.'" Here he paused, a good six seconds of silence as he rooted himself once more to the present, voice lowering to a whisper. "Leaving you? Losing you? It would be like losing a part of myself, like losing the best parts of myself."

He paused again, a seriousness that was only just familiar to you making an appearance, a depth to his words that made your toes curl. "I was lost for centuries, Schatz, never realizing or accepting just how alone I was, how fucked up I was. I waited for you for ages, and didn't even know how badly I needed you until I finally met you. It was like everything I had done, everything I had gone through, suddenly made sense. You were- are- the very thing I was fighting so hard for."

For claiming to have not a hint of romance in him, he still always seemed to have the perfect strategy for disarming you, for charming you, for leaving you even more infatuated with him than you were mere minutes before.

But this pedestal that he had carved for you, these expectations-

"I'm only human, Gil."

"I know," he murmured.

"I could still get sick-"

"I know," he sighed.

"Or hurt-"

"I know," he growled.

"Or di-"

"I know!"

His exasperation was so unexpected that you swore the whole world had frozen around you, as if the tranquility of the forest had finally been disturbed.

But no-

Everything was still exactly as should be; it was only your surprise that had affected your perception.

In actuality, his interjection had been scarcely more than a rasp, so damaging to you alone as it cut straight through to your soul, piercing through what little armor you still had against him.

He squeezed your hand, an apology conveyed simply through touch, an armistice accepted and strengthened through reciprocation. "'Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own,'" came the quiet refrain, each syllable accented through the dance of his thumb against your palm, each syllable a soft breath that tickled your scalp. You expected him to stop there, his point well made, but soon enough he was murmuring again, words nearly a hum. "'In pain and sickness they would still be dear.'"

You couldn't place the words- who knew if a copy of that book even existed anymore- but it didn't matter. They were exactly what you had needed, the balm for a restiveness that you hadn't even known was plaguing you till a few moments ago. And what's more, you never knew Gilbert to exaggerate, not when it came to matters of the heart. He knew no other option than complete sincerity, maddening some days, endearing most others.

Thoughts shifting, comfort once more reestablished, you shifted slightly, turning your attention to the few clouds you could see through the canopy. "Every atom, huh?"

There was a huff of a laugh, an accentuated exhale that highlighted his exasperation, but the amusement in his reply was tempered by fondness, highlighted with a small kiss above your ear. "Every proton, neutron, electron... Every single quark, if you need me to get technical," he finished in a whisper, slowly, gently, reassuringly, practically an embrace on its own.

You melted against him, giving his hand a small squeeze of gratitude, thoroughly reminded now of exactly why it was okay to share your vulnerabilities, how lucky you were to have found him, to be found, to trust and fall and grow together.

Tranquility eventually, quietly, made her reappearance, bringing with her the blessing of the midday sun.

Thanks for reading!

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bloodpenned · 3 years

Note

plz plz plz can you write m!whitney skullfucking pc

wordcount: 2.5k (can’t believe this is the first time i write an actual fic on here.) cw: noncon, detailed ero guro / gore porn, eye trauma, drugging, knives, vomit mention, needle mention, degradation, victim blaming.

or: whitney fucks your eye socket and prepares you for the act. don’t read this to upset or trigger yourself, please.

Since all of your holes have been used by others, Whitney makes one for himself.

“Look at you- You can barely keep your fucking head up, slut.”

The voice drifts to you from far away, a figure leaning over the ice you’re trapped under. Where am I?, you ask, but all your vocal cords produce is a gurgle. Your limbs are made of cement and frozen in place. Letting yourself be dragged back into the depths of unconsciousness is much easier than staying afloat. Through trembling eyelids, you barely make out the shape of the person in front of you. Their legs, to be precise. Pain shoots through your scalp and you jolt, finally present enough for the ties around your wrists and ankles to register in your mind, the cold wall you’re leaning against. That it’s Whitney, because who fucking else would it be, yanking you up by your hair. Your tongue still refuses to move.

“Follow.” His voice feigns disinterest. Yet he keeps shuffling, leaning his weight more on one leg, then the other again. He holds his hand in front of your face, moving it from side to side. Your head is so fuzzy you see no reason to disobey. By the time you’ve caught up with him to the right, he’s already back the other way. Your eyelids droop. He laughs. “God, you’re out of it. Poor you, did I gave you a little too much? You can’t say I’ve ever underestimated you.”

As soon as his grip loosens, your head drops and black dots litter your vision. Drool spills from your mouth. Something bad is about to happen, there’s no other explanation for this. His hands will end up all over your body again. But there’s no chatter of his friends, no flashes of cameras, so different from the usual that you don’t know what to expect. The world fades out, before flickering back in the middle of a sentence.

“...pay me back. Got that? Good.” The hand is back in your hair, keeping you steady. He’s digging around in his pocket. “If you weren’t such a whore, I wouldn’t have to do this. Did you think I wouldn’t see those pictures? Wouldn’t know when my slut’s gagging around someone else? I promised I would beat some sense into you if you didn’t listen, so here we are.”

Whitney’s found what he had been looking for. There’s something in his hand, moving toward your face too quickly to make out. Everything’s so blurry that even while squinting, you can’t immediately tell what it is. You nearly go crosseyed trying to figure it out. A handle clenched in his fist, gray, reflecting surface, ending in a sharp point-

A knife.

“You’re a fucking cumbrain already, but I’ll give you one too.”

You watch the situation unfold from the back of your skull. This is happening to someone else, anyone except you. It’s a movie, and a bad one at that. You can’t pinch your arm to wake yourself up. Whitney had hurt you before, sure, with his bare hands. Never like this. He’s always made fun of Kylar for having to resort to knives, why would he use one now? Is it just a threat? It has to be. Then again, you’re so disoriented you don’t stand a sliver of a chance against him. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, so loud it makes your head throb. The furthest your abilities go is to shake your head and force a whimper from your throat, rubbing your wrists raw on the zip tie. Whitney presses cold steel against your cheek. You try to spit at him, but you can’t put any force behind it. It dribbles down your chin in a slow stream.

Whitney barks out a laugh. “What the fuck are you, a dog?” The knife digs into your skin, a gentle push away from slicing you open. “Don’t get to get too excited yet, we haven’t even started, slut.” He slides the blade up to your bottom eyelid, leaving a shallow cut. (Your brain is fuzzy. Your cheeks are warm, burning- Are you blushing? Is the wetness rolling down your face a tear?) Your fingers twitch, your teeth grind together, every muscle pulled tight like a bowstring.

His breathing is laboured, eyes boring into yours, expression blank for a mere moment. Whitney, as you know him from school, is all but empty. He’s of scoffing and snarling, of laughter and grins- This is nothing you recognize. Your gut twists. Every instinct in your body is screeching at the top of its lungs for you to run. At the same time, another part tells you to stay as still as possible, as if you will simply fade out of existence if you don’t move. (But it’s okay, because none of this is real, and you’re at the orphanage in bed curled up under the covers, and you’ll wake up late and rush to get your uniform to not miss the bus and you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine-) Whitney’s tongue darts out to trace his upper lip, his fingers turning white around the handle.

The next, there is a blow of air against your eye before pure, indescribable agony accompanied by a wet squelch. You’re dying, you’re dying, you’re dying, it’s over- Half of your face has been blown off, your brain is exposed for all to see and poke and prod, your lungs collapse with every breath, your throat spasms around vomit. What’s left of your right side of vision is a red and black pulsating blur. The screams, the sole outburst you’re capable of, are mere groans in the back of your throat. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish on land. Blood, sweat, tears, pus, slime- You wouldn’t know. Something oozes down your face, thick mucus, making a mess on your lap. You’re warm, you’re cold, sweat thick underneath your clothes. Everything is wet. Everything is hot.

A hand is on your head, stroking. The sensation dissapears into and becomes one with the pain, the thing that melts everything else away. “There you go, you’re being so good! But I’m not done yet.” He speaks to you in the tone reserved purely for dogs. From the corner of your good eye, you can see him reaching his fist back and pounds it against the handle, your entire world dissolving into nothing as it hits.

When you wake up, you do so to a palpitating heart that’s skipping beats left and right, to a convulsing body, to spit frothing at your mouth and a needle in your leg. The gag in your mouth rubs against your tongue and tastes of sweat. Whitney has discorded the knife, left it at your feet. Your eyeball looks like scrambled egg white on one end, a sloppy mess, and you gag. At one point or another, you will have to come to term with the fact that you’re never going to see from it again.

“Can’t have you leaving before the party’s started.” Your head whips around, the sensation of something sloshing inside your eye socket immediately making you regret it. Wind blows straight into the wound and causes you to ear up. He’s on your right. Somewhere. What you assume to be the syringe falls to the ground with a clatter. There’s no way he isn’t standing there, in the void he created, on purpose. You would’ve preferred to be really fucking dead right now. Let him rape your corpse, at least you wouldn’t have to be there to notice it. Whatever he injected you with, it’s all so much sharper now. The lights are brighter, every little step he takes ringing in your ears, your right eye (or the slurry that’s left of it) aflame. You rock back and forth to shuffle further away from him, but you’re already backed against a wall and the movement makes the blood in your skull slosh alongside it.

“Gotta check if you’re wet enough for me. Thank me later, slut.” Whitney pulls on your eyelashes, the tip of his finger teasing the hole. Once in a while, it dips into the wound, your nerves tingling in anticipation at the near touch. Breath hitching every time, your brain can’t comprehend what’s exactly happening to you. Your heart pounds in your ears, your limbs keep twitching against your will. Now that you can, you want to struggle, but you’re so scared of that pain, terrified that he could choose to take the other one as well.

All you want is for this to be over. You just want to be home. As flawed of a home it is, it’s still the one place you can think to return to. (Robin will be there, waiting for you. They always have. Could you still keep up with them during games, now that you’re like this? Bailey’s presence, suffocating as it is, at least keeps you safe from intruders. How pissed off are they going to be, now that you're a damaged ware?)

“Can’t you sit still for one fucking second? You wanna know what it feels like when I slip so badly?” Your head jerks to the side against your will, foot hitting his ankle. “I guess you do, huh? But, fuck- You keep writhing around, maybe I should give the needy whore what they want. You’re soaked, that’s for sure.”

Whitney pulls away, his fingers coated a pale red. Using your hair as a rag, he smears the fluids in it, tugging on it once for good measure. He takes a step back, descends back outside your field of vision. There’s the rustling of fabric, unbuckling of a belt, a zipper being undone. You begin to plead through your gag, repeating muffled, incomprehensible words, because please, anything but this, not right now, not ever, hasn’t he done enough, isn’t he satisfied, he’s already ruined you enough, please, just please-

“It’s cute you think you have a choice.”

There’d been a nagging suspicion in the back of your head that it would come down to this. Every meeting with Whitney would end up leading down the same path, but this time... You choke on your breaths, chest heaving with sobs. With every shock of your shoulders, more heat leaks out of your eyes, your entire face turning into one throbbing mess. You squeeze your eyes shut. (There’s no way you can move the right eyelid, the knife has torn straight through it. All it is now is limp meat, hanging on by a thread.) His dick presses against your cheek. Fucking hell, why does he have to be so big too? There’s ringing in your ears as he leaves a trail of precum, mingling with the mess already there. His scent overpowered by the metallic smell of blood. Why can’t you just pass out again? But you’re still twitching, thoughts racing faster than you can keep track of.

“You’ve been asking for this, don’t try to deny it. I’m not stupid. Well, you’ve got my attention now. You better be grateful.” He misses the first time, the head of his dick rubbing against your eyebrow. Whitney curses underneath his breath. Trembling fingers tug your eyelids as far apart as possible and you hate it, you hate this so fucking much, you want someone to come by here to save you, you want to sink through the floor, you want to die.

He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, and hits his mark. You’re not sure how much he crammed inside your skull, but all of it was too much, too cruel. The screaming is clear through your bounds, raking your throat raw. Whichever way you move, his cock stays lodged in between the bone. The muscles snap and tear, the bones crack, the flesh, like the tight fit that it is, clings around his dick, and he groans as he pushes himself further inside. An impossible amount of more fat and mucus and slime comes free, clogging your nose. The back of your head slams against the wall with every movement, but it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t compare.

There’s nothing else. There can be nothing else. Your mind is full and empty at the same time. He’s all you can think about, he’s fucking the memory of him into your brain, leaving his permanent mark. Is this what he wanted? You’re being dissected, pulled apart, the creases of your brain violated. He’s saying things, (tight, mess, slut, enjoying, loud.), but he’s pulling out and the scrape of the warm flesh makes the scenery blur. Your throat feels like it was pulled across sandpaper.

The pressure dissipates and you cry in pure relief. But, a moment later, he’s back in and down a slightly different path at a slightly different angle and there’s more snapping, more gushes of fluid. The only thing that will ever fit there again will be him. The perfect little cocksleeve. He’s pushing up against something and you don’t know what, but every time he twitches and brushes against it, your entire vision blacks out. Where the pain reached a crescendo before, it’s turned around to be almost numbing now. Are your nerves torn up? Are you dying?

“Open your mouth. Wait, fuck-” He’s breathless, stuttering over his words. His dick twitches and scrapes against bone. Trembling fingers remove the gag from your mouth. If this were literally any other situation, you might have been almost proud to have turned him into such a wreck. “Stick your tongue out and it’ll be over. Done.”

You latch onto those words like a lifeline. No matter how it ends, you just want it to be over. Without much more than a second of delay you do as he asks, your good eye rolling up to try and look at him. Considering how full your head is, you hardly notice the strings of cum being added to the pool, until some of it leaks through your nose and onto your tongue. He puts one hand on your head, shaking it until more follows. (Though his cum isn’t the only thing there.)

Strings of blood and slime stick to his dick like drool as he pulls out. You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate this fucking town, and you hate every piece of shit in it. Your brain is a cacophony of screaming, of visions of growing fangs and claws and tearing him to shreds, of burning this whole town down. All you do is stare up without really looking, eyes glazed over. You’re tired, so unbelievably tired. All you want to do is rest, even if it’s while bleeding out in some shitty alleyway. His voice drifts to you from far away, smile clear in his tone.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

An eye for an eye has never sounded so appealing before.

#degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #i knoooow he wouldnt do this but whatever i like writing it and also i can do whatever i want #it was just a top tier request i cant help myself #seriously dont read to freak yourself out !#k.gore #k.degradation #k.drugs #k.knife

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Loverboy

Kylo Ren x Reader x Flip Zimmerman

3.5k; NSFW (Threesome [M/M/F], costumes/lingerie, dom/sub undertones [Dom!Flip, sub!Kylo, sub!reader], PIV, anal sex, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, crying during sex, creampie/come-dump, hair pulling, birthday sex)

Kinktober Masterlist || Available on AO3

----------------------

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Flip says over the phone. His voice is clear through the line, he isn’t whispering, isn’t hushed. He must not be at work then, Kylo thinks, as the empty static crackles for a moment, before Kylo hears your laughter in the background, and his chest warms. He hears Flip take in a drag of his cigarette, before the detective instructs, “Be outside in 10.”

The line goes dead, and the second he puts the phone away he sprints up to his bedroom, a whirlwind of slapdash cleaning. A surprise meant only one thing, meant something special, real special.

A surprise meant you.

The clock ticks and Kylo pulls himself together, racing to the front step to wait. Flip likes it when Kylo follows orders, and Kylo likes following orders for him, and maybe just maybe if he’s lucky…well. No need to go thinking ahead, he holds his breath as Flip’s instantly recognizable truck pulls around the corner, your happy face pressed against the window and waving.

“Happy birthday Kylo!” You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the spot just underneath his jaw.

“Thanks sweets.” He hums low in his throat, as Flip leans against his truck, smoking his cigarette. “What, don’t tell me I get her all to myself tonight?”

“Not exactly.” A little smile quirks up around the camel, and Flip sticks his hands in his pockets, “You kids go have some fun, I’ll be back in a little while I just have to pick up some…stuff.”

“Oh are we…?” Kylo sucks in a sharp breath then, hoping hoping hoping, and Flip can tell how desperate for it he is when he smirks and replies,

“Yeah, we are.”

Flip turns to you and tugs on the back of your coat playfully, asking you for a, “Kiss?”

With a great big grin you give it to him, a smacking smooch right on the lips, and when you pull away Flip gets back into his truck. He drives away, and then standing in the dark of night out on the front step, it’s just the two of you. Kylo can get a hint of cleavage underneath your coat, and he ushers you inside knowing how chilly the November air can be.

“Happy birthday.” You beam up at him, walking with him across the threshold into the cozy homey atmosphere of Kylo’s house.

“You said that already baby.” Kylo locks the door behind you, knowing Flip’s got a key. You all have keys to each other’s places, it just made things easier. Made sharing you easier.

“Well I’m gonna say it again.” You bite at your lip, taking a step closer to him with each repetition of the words, “And again…and again…and again.”

Until you’re within his reach, his grasp. Kylo can smell your perfume off your skin, and your coy smile is just begging to be kissed, but he’s curious, he wants to know why you haven’t taken off your coat, wants to know just how far his surprise really goes.

“What’re you hiding under there? C’mon, you can show me.” Kylo pulls on the sash around your waist, and you swat at his hands with a knowing chuckle.

“Close your eyes.” You tell him, and just like with Flip he can’t not obey your every command, so his eyes close and he listens to the shuffle of your fabric as the coat slumps to the floor, keeps them closed until you tell him, “Okay, open.”

He should’ve been sitting down for this, he thinks, when he sees your body in full view. You’re dressed up like a very sultry sexy rabbit; a bunny-ear headband nestled into your hair, and mesh panties that have a puffball of white right on your ass. You’re not wearing a bra, and Kylo has a hard time breathing, trying to take you all in.

“Oh, shit.” Is all he can manage, as he does sit down then, right on the couch. His cock fills out fast in his jeans, and his palms go clammy from wanting to touch you squeeze you pinch you bruise you.

“Do you like it?” You ask, giving him a little show by tuning and giving him a 360 view.

“You’d give those magazines a run for their money, honey.” Kylo whistles low, and your entire face lights up at his rhyme. “Come sit real close to me and let me get a good look at you.”

Slinking forward, you straddle his hips on the couch. He licks his lips and smooths his hands all over you, feeling how warm you are, how soft. Even the rough spots are soft, and Kylo has to swallow hard to stop himself from waxing poetic over how much he loves you.

“You can fuck me, if you want. He won’t get mad.” You whisper, nuzzling your nose against his.

Kylo knows you mean Flip, because of course you do, you always do. Kylo loves you, but so does Flip, and Flip and Kylo love each other, and though none of it makes sense, it’s all perfectly clear to him. Flip’s not here though, and Flip usually likes to be here, he usually gets real sour when you and Kylo have fun without him. But…

“Maybe I like when he gets mad.” Kylo leans in to kiss you, closing the little gap between your mouths, “Maybe I want to wait for him, to watch me fuck you.”

He knows the words will get you riled up, he knows they’ll make you squirm in his lap. He can feel you’re wet already, can feel the heat between your legs just from how badly you want to get fucked. Kylo wonders if Flip fucked you before he brought you over, some pre-game action like he sometimes likes to do when it’s going to be a long night.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy.” You bite down on his lower lip and suck it into your mouth, worrying it between your teeth.

“Cut it out.” Kylo’s nose crinkles, and you pull away concerned.

“What?” You worry that maybe you’ve hurt him accidentally, but no that isn’t it, so he shakes his head.

“You’re makin’ me feel old.” Kylo pinches at your sides, makes you break into laughter just from the tickling he’s giving you, and you cup his cheeks with both your hands and squish his face.

“You are old.” You tell him solemnly, fighting back a smile so strong that Kylo rolls his eyes and smacks your thigh.

“Flip’s older.” Kylo points out, and you only shimmy your shoulders a little, your hard nipples brushing against Kylo’s black t-shirt.

“I like my men grown up. Kylo I’m so fucking horny right now that if you don’t stick something in me right now, I’ll cry.” You whine, and it’s Kylo’s turn to chuckle, hoisting you up with one big grunt and carrying you to the stairs.

“Oh I’ll get you crying; come on sweets, up to bed where you belong.” Warmth and love blooms in his chest when your arms and legs instinctively wrap around him, your bright laughter and yelps at being manhandled filling his otherwise quiet house.

When Flip comes back an hour later, he’s sufficiently wound up. Traffic was a bitch and no one knew how to drive, seemed like all the fuckin’ schmucks were directly in front of him on the way there and back. But he was back, and he lets himself in through Kylo’s door with Kylo’s key, the sound of springs creaking and thumping and moaning music to his ears.

“Oh – Kylo, mmm, Kylo that’s so good!” You’re loud, and your voice is raw enough that Flip knows you and Kylo have been going at it for a while.

Flip steps out of his boots and shucks off his jacket, keeps the little brown bag tucked under his arm as he goes up the stairs to join where you both are.

“Never get tired of this pussy, you hear how wet you are for me? What a good girl, fuck that’s good.” Kylo grunts and groans, the slick wet sounds of your cunt filling the air, getting louder and louder as Flip makes his way to the bedroom.

“Y-you’re so big, fuck you’re so big, you and your cock, fuck – oh! Yes!” You’re panting, and Flip just has to hang back and admire the view for a minute.

Your bunny ears are askew on your head, as your entire body bounces on the mattress, Kylo’s hips fucking into you hard and steady. He’s got one of your legs thrown over his shoulder, and Flip watches as your toes curl and uncurl sweetly, your hands grasping at the sheets. Your body is sweatslick, and your panties are ripped, and you’re the most beautiful woman Flip has ever seen, his own personal pornographic princess.

You catch sight of him through your half-lidded eyes, and you smile, a big beaming grin that makes Flip walk all the way into the room.

“What -- ?” Kylo turns his head out of confusion, before he realizes.

“Shh, it’s just me.” Flip says, voice deep and dark and making goosebumps break out over both you and Kylo.

“Hi Philly.” You gasp, back arching into Kylo’s touch as his hips begin to slow.

Flip shakes his head, unzips his jeans.

“Don’t stop.” He orders, and Kylo moans, his cock throbbing inside your cunt from the order.

Flip watches as the strong muscles in Kylo’s back ripple and flex, his arms caging your body in underneath him. He speeds up his pace, sweat dripping from his nose and landing in little splashes on your breasts. Flip licks his lips, wanting to lick up the sweat instead.

“I – oh fuck.” You wail, hot tears clinging to your pretty lashes. Flip strips the rest of the way, until he’s as naked as Kylo, and he climbs up onto the bed. Flip lays down on his side next to you, turns your face to his and slips his tongue in your mouth.

Kylo fucks your pussy as you and Flip make out, the hand that isn’t propping his head up cups at your breast and rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you hiccup against his mouth some more. It’s mesmerizing, Kylo thinks, your cunt gripping him like a vice, spasming and fluttering around him from the extra attention.

“How many have you gotten out of her?” Flip breaks the kiss to look at Kylo, who is having a very hard time forming words right now. Flip gently warns, “Answer me.”

“O-only three so far.” Kylo manages, drool dripping down from his clenched jaw as he focuses hard on pleasuring you and coming inside you, the only thing he ever wants.

“Get her to come again and you’ll get it.” Flip seems to read his mind, and Kylo moans and shuts his eyes tight, because he knows what it is, and he wants it so desperately.

You, meanwhile, are a babbling, blissed out mess. You look so pretty with tears staining your cheeks and your lips kiss bitten and swollen, your nipples shining in the low light from all the sweat and drool, the ears bent at such an angle that Flip can’t help but jerk off lazily watching your body get fuckin’ plowed.

“F-Flip hi honey, hi – oh! Kylo, yes, pleasepleaseplease.” You’re panting, gasping, moaning, voice high and raw in the back of your throat as your orgasm hits you, your back arching toes curling eyes pinching shut so tightly that they know you must be seeing stars, “Flip!”

“I’m right here honey-bunny,” Flip kisses you gently, kisses at your lips and cheek and nose and forehead, caressing and cupping your breasts as he whispers, “You’re being good for the birthday boy?”

“Mmmmmhmm, real good.” You tremble, eyes still shut, whole body going limp. Kylo kisses your ankle before letting your leg down, his own come pumping into you, hot and thick. You can feel it, can feel it spreading, joining the other load he dumped into your pussy not twenty minutes ago.

Kylo’s arms give out finally, and he thuds down onto your chest with a moan, more come spurting out of his cock. Flip smiles, tucks some of Kylo’s hair behind his ear and pats his bicep for a job well done. The silent praise makes Kylo’s cock twitch inside you, and you sigh from the feeling.

“Relax for me, don’t pull out.” Flip murmurs, leaving his spot on the mattress to move behind Kylo, draping his body across Kylo’s back.

Flip reaches into the brown paper bag and pulls out the first of his purchases, a generous bottle of lube, that he squirts out onto his hand and warms up. Once it’s no longer cold to the touch, Flip gets to work, easing the tip of his finger right into Kylo’s asshole. It’s easier like this, after Kylo’s already come a couple of times, he’s not so tense and it doesn’t take as long. Flip knows that the longer it takes, the more tense Kylo gets, and while he loves being mean to the big tattooed biker, he figures he’d better be sweet on Kylo’s birthday.

“Fuck your fingers are big.” Kylo groans, his cheek pressed right against your breast, kissing and licking up your sweat almost subconsciously.

You huff out a laugh, because you could empathize with Kylo on that – everything about Flip was large, but those hands of his? Out of this world. Your pussy warms Kylo’s cock and keeps him nice and hard, his hips doing little involuntary motions, rocking back on Flip’s fingers and forward into your cunt, sensory overload only just beginning.

“I know, how many do you want?” Flip asks, because it’s Kylo’s birthday, and he gets to choose.

“To take you? I’m going to need at least three.” Kylo moans out, and Flip grins, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Atta boy.” Flip kisses one of the freckles on Kylo’s back, and as Kylo’s body starts to writhe and buck as Flip thrusts his fingers in and out of Kylo’s ass, Flip takes his other hand and winds it into Kylo’s hair and yanks, with a harsh, “Keep your knees apart.”

Kylo moans, and you can feel a little more come oozing out of his cock into your pussy, making you smile. Kylo loves it when Flip’s a big mean dom, and looks like that’s exactly what he’s going to get. Flip bites down on Kylo’s shoulder, and Kylo sucks on your nipple, moans into your body as Flip manages two…then three thick fingers in and out of his lubed up hole.

There’s nothing but the sound of harsh breathing and moans for a while as Kylo’s body relaxes enough and gets used to Flip’s fingers, until Flip decides Kylo’s ready and he pulls them away entirely, nudging the head of his cock in its place.

“Fuck,” Kylo keens over, his dick fully hard again inside you, his hips wanting to move but not knowing which direction, his brain and spine alight with pleasure.

“Damn you’re tight,” Flip sinks his cock further into Kylo’s asshole, going slow and careful, making sure everything’s, “Good?”

“Yes!” Kylo replies quickly, his thighs shaking, biceps flexing as he pushes himself off your chest to hover over you again, “Yes, fuck, oh fuck – move, please? Please Sir – I – ”

“Beg louder.” Flip growls and yanks on Kylo’s hair again, and you moan from that, from how authoritative Flip can be.

“Ohhh fuck Flip, Flip – Sir, please move, please I’ll do anything, fuck me, fuck me hard Sir, please!” Kylo’s got no qualms about submitting to him, he wants it, he wants someone strong and capable like Flip to make him feel good, wants to please him the very same way he wants to please you, his perfect girl under him.

“Keep fucking her, give it to her, all of it.” Flip orders, and that’s a task that Kylo would rather die than disobey.

Flip thrusts in and out of Kylo’s hole, and with it, Kylo thrusts in and out of your pussy. It takes a couple minutes before the three of you find a perfect synchronization, but once you do it’s magic. Your eyes are rolling back into your head, your whole body shakes and you moan moan moan, as Flip tugs your leg up and over Kylo so he can pin you down in a position where he can fuck you deep.

The sounds are obscene, nothing but the slip and slide of come, of lube, of sweat and of tears. Chests heave and bodies fit together in a perfect sandwich, one that makes Kylo almost delirious with lust, bliss, pleasurepleasurepleasure.

“Kylo please, I want more, just a little more?” You sob, feeling perfectly filthy, getting fucked while Kylo gets fucked.

“I’m dead, I’m dead this is Heaven and I’m dead.” He speeds his hips up, and you throw your arms up over your head, your tits pressing together and bouncing in his face, the headband practically falling off your head as Kylo kisses you open-mouthed and wet.

“Hnnnggg,” You moan, losing the ability to speak as you come again, as pleasure crashes through you under the weight of your two boys, you shout and cry and come come come, and Kylo and Flip aren’t far behind.

“Be good. Good boys get to come in their bunny’s pussy, isn’t that right ketsl?” Flip pants down in Kylo’s ear, his balls smacking hard against Kylo’s ass.

“Uhhuhhh.” You’re no help really, but the way your face is so fucked out does the job enough to make Kylo turn his face and regard Flip with big brown eyes.

“Harder.” He pleads, and Flip smirks, leans down and kisses Kylo gently on the lips before smacking the back of his thighs loud enough for the noise the ricochet down the stairs. “Flip please, please I’ll fucking do anything, please – harder, faster, fuck it’s so good.”

Flip adjusts his angle just a bit and Kylo nearly collapses flat on his stomach, tears welling up in his eyes to match the salty mix on your cheeks, and he knows he’s found Kylo’s prostate. Once Flip’s found it, he doesn’t dare let up on it, dragging the full length of his cock over and over it as hard and fast as he can, his own muscles tensing up, his stomach fluttering and flexing from wanting to come. Flip gives you a look, and even through your glazed cloudly vision you know what it means.

“Eyes on me baby.” You mumble, caressing and rubbing Kylo’s chest and stomach with your nearly pleasure-numb hands, “Come in me, my pussy’s not full yet, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Fuck!” Kylo shouts, as Flip rails into him hard, as he rails into you, until you’re grinning with satisfaction, your brain sizzling like Pepsi-Cola, another hot load being forced into your already overflowing cunt.

Flip pulls out gently, and Kylo pulls out of you with as much effort as he can manage, his cock still coming and oozing thick hot white ropes onto your thigh. Come is already leaking and dripping out of your cunt but Flip only pushes it back in with his cock, assuming Kylo’s position above you and thrusting into you just long enough for him to come in your pussy too. He knows your body is sore and overwhelmed, he knows you’re fucked out of your mind, so he’s soft-spoken and gentle with you.

“Let me see.” His voice is a deep caress on your mind, and even though he sounds a million miles away from the waves of pleasure that sweep through you, you hear them when he tells you, “Legs open, ketsl.”

“Hi Philly.” You beam, your body so loose and limp and numb from pleasure that your legs fall open easily, only moaning a little bit when Flip pulls out and admires the creampie that he and Kylo left behind. He knows that Kylo did most of the work, but the night was still young, and Flip had more surprises in his little brown bag.

“Hi precious.” Flip watches the come ooze out of you, smiling at you and rubbing your thigh soothingly, feeling how it trembles under his touch. He turns to Kylo, who is trying to get his breath back from the fucking Flip gave him, and he hums out a warm laugh. “You did good, Kylo. I think you deserve another present.”

“There’s more?” Kylo’s eyes open wide, anticipation eager across his face.

Flip rummages around in the brown paper bag for the second purchase and surprise of the night, a vibrating plug that he tosses to Kylo. Even with a sex-addled brain, Kylo’s reflexes are sharp, and he catches the plug easily. You grin, you knowing slutty bunny rabbit you, and Kylo can feel his cock twitching again, impossibly horny, especially when Flip licks his lips and says,

“Oh, loverboy, we’re only just getting started.”

#kylo ren/reader #flip zimmerman/reader #kylo ren x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/you/kylo ren #kylo ren/you #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman #blackkklansman #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #modern kylo ren #flip zimmerman smut #my writing #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver character #adcu

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ticklyfluffers · 3 years

Text

Flower Field Tickles

Note:

It had all started with a simple gesture.

“My hero!” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Then, she felt it. Her nails accidentally trailed over part of his semi-exposed neck. He flinched and stifled something, scrunching his shoulders, yet that wasn’t what immediately got her interest.

He smiled. It was small and barely noticeable, yet there was no mistaking it. She saw the corners of his mouth rise, and even more, she saw him fighting it.

“Are...you ok?” Aerith asked, Cloud immediately going to work to get his image back.

“Y-Yeah.” he said. “You just surprised me is all.”

The brunette tilted her head. “You...sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Cloud insisted, gently placing her down.

And from then, she had that small moment repeating in her mind.

It was, for what seemed to be the first time in a while, generally calm. Aerith and her newly appointed bodyguard had found themselves in a small, fertile field nearby the young woman’s house. She hadn’t originally intended to take him out here, yet if she was going to put her plan into action, then she would need to get him somewhere secure. As giddy as she was with anticipation, she didn’t want to destroy his pride by potentially having her mother walk in on them. But now, she was here with her blonde companion, her fingers anxious and fidgety.

“So, pretty neat, right?” Aerith asked, gesturing out towards the small field, a few sparse flowers here and there.

Cloud wasn’t entirely sure what to think. She had suddenly gotten so insistent on showing him this place that he was beginning to suspect that something was going on in her mind. Still, he played along, trying to analyze the situation. “Yeah, sure,” he answered, looking around. “Some backyard.”

“And it’s ALL mine,” Aerith said, stretching out her arms. “We used to have a swingset over there.” she pointed to a few nearby trees. “Wonder if it’s still there.” leading him over, she was pleased to see that, indeed, it was still there. “Here,” she said, presenting the seat to Cloud. “You get the first swing.”

Cloud shifted, pondering just what was going on. “No thanks,” he said. “I’m good.”

Aerith shrugged her shoulders. “Ok.” she then got on and began swinging, letting her legs straighten out as she flew high into the air. “I was kinda hoping you would go first,” she admitted, swinging back. “But I’m glad,” she swung back again, then forward. “That you’re out here.”

“Why?” Cloud questioned. Just what in the world was she up to?

“Well,” she then stopped. “I wanna try something with you.”

He knew it. He KNEW something was up! “Like what?”

“Uh…” Aerith shifted a bit, as if embarrassed. “It’s kinda stupid,” she admitted. “But...that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it.”

She just contradicted herself, Cloud thought. She began to approach him. “And...that would be?”

“Oh, just a little test.” before he could say anything, let alone protest, he felt her fingers lightly dig into his sides. His reaction was everything that Aerith had hoped for. Cloud immediately released a strained hiss that was followed up, by all things, a giggle. A giggle that sounded as if he had something lodged in his throat, but still, it was a giggle. “Ah, I knew it!” Aerith proclaimed. “I KNEW you were ticklish!”

Ticklish? “THAT’S what this is about?” Cloud was flabbergasted, not to mention quite flustered.

“Yep!” Aerith admitted. “I gotta admit, I was going to chicken out a few times, but curiosity got the best of me.” Cloud bit his lip, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“Well...no. Just a little…” he was struggling on finding out what to say. Being around this girl, it was beginning to do...things to him. “It’s just a little embarrassing, is all.”

“Correction: it’s cute,” Aerith said. She gave him another poke in the side, smiling as she saw him flinch, a smile fighting to come to his face. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” she waited a little bit before going through with the rest of her plan. “Couldn’t resist this one either.” she poked him again.

“H-Hey!” Cloud choked out, only to receive yet another jab.

“Or this one.” Aerith ran her fingers down his left side, earning a small spasm from her victim.

“D-Don’t!” to his surprise, she pulled away from him, hands up.

“Ok, ok. That’s all. You’re still not mad, right?”

Cloud thought for a moment. “I guess?” honestly, he wasn’t sure how to react to any of this. But he was wondering something. “Why’d you want to tickle me so badly?”

Now it seemed to be Aerith’s turn to be a little flustered. “Would you believe it’s just because I want to?” she said. “Plus, I haven’t seen you smile once! You DO know that frown takes more muscles in comparison to smiling, you know.” Cloud was about to interject, but she continued. “And, if it’s more ‘manly’ for you, I want to keep my bodyguard up and on his toes. No idea what you might come across.”

Well...that was a bunch of answers. Cloud still noticed a small hunger in her eyes. “What?”

“...am I that obvious?” Aerith chuckled. “Yeah. I...I want to tickle you. I want to tickle you BADLY.” Cloud backed up nervously. “But I’m not going to,” she said, surprising him. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“What do you mean?” Cloud asked.

“You’re clearly a little antsy about it, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she told him. “So, it’s your call.”

Cloud, oddly enough, found himself torn. True, the first time it happened, he assumed (or rather hoped) that Aerith would’ve forgotten it, yet after leading him out here, alone, and, as her test, unfortunately, proved, at the mercy of her fingers, she wouldn’t touch him. Not unless he was fine with it. Normally, he would’ve outright refused. No way would he EVER be caught laughing his head off due to a few fluttering digits, but when Aerith had done it...it felt...oddly, not as bad. If anything, it felt a little...nice.

He was silent and thinking it over for a good while, both outcomes seeming like bad ends. Oh, just what had he gotten himself into? “Just...HOW bad do you want to…” he grimaced somewhat, even the word making him nervous. “...tickle me?”

“Badly,” Aerith replied. “But again, it’s up to you.”

He looked at her, then to the grassy floor underneath his boots. Then to the brunette dressed in red and pink. Back to the ground, then back to her. This went on for a short while before, finally, Cloud delivered his answer. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “Fine.”

Now it was Aerith’s turn to be surprised. “...really?”

He felt he was going to potentially regret this. “Yes,” he said. “Just...get it over with.” She needed no further motivation than that. She immediately leaped onto him and clung to his back, forcing him down to the ground and on his knees when her fingers met his rips. “A-Ah! G-Gentle, ok?! Be ge-“ Cloud was cut off when giggles began to pour out of his throat. “Ge-hehe-ntle!”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say!” Aerith said, her hands exploring all of his upper body that she could reach. Cloud doubled over, shifting back and forth, trying to resist the urge to throw her off. Why had he agreed to this?! “Wait a minute.” Aerith stopped for a moment, much to her bodyguard’s relief. “We’re gonna need a way for you to tap out.”

“Like what?” Cloud asked.

“Like…a safe word.”

Cloud nearly turned red. “Safeword?!”

“Yeah. Unless my big, bad bodyguard wants to plead for mercy.” she grinned when she saw him tighten his lips, determination coming to his blue eyes. “Glad we’re on the same page!” she giggled. “So…how about…Chocobo?”

“Yeah? I guess?”

“Great! Now, where was I?” it didn’t take Aerith long to recall just that, immediately going back to work on Cloud’s ribs.

“G-Gah!” the blonde cried out, cursing himself that he let it slip out, his mouth curled up further and further, a full-on smile etched into his features. “A-Aerith!!!” he then, to his horror, shrieked. Full-on shrieked. “Aeri-hihi-th!!! D-Do-hohoho-n’t!”

The brunette giggled at the sight of it. “Oh geez, how ticklish ARE you?”

“D-Do-hohoho-n’t!”

“Don’t what?”

“T-Tickle Me-heeheehee!”

“...you walked right into that one.” she switched targets from his ribs to his underarms. Cloud’s arms clamped down in a vain effort to protect himself, but all he managed to do was trap her wiggling fingers in what he would soon discover to be one of his worst spots. “Oops! Looks like I’m stuck!” she declared, still continuing to tickle him in his sensitive hollows.

Cloud yelped and curled up, trying to dislodge her, yet she only rose to her feet to stand over him, still digging into his skin. “G-Get ‘em out!” the blonde shouted/begged. “Ge-hehehe-t ‘em ou-hoohoo-t!”

“I can’t!” Aerith said matter-of-factly. “You’re going to have to lift your arms up!”

“I ca-hahaha-n’t!”

“Then we’re stuck, aren’t we?”

Cloud couldn’t conjure up a response this time, any words having been drowned out in his laughter. His arms served to only further his torment as he found he just couldn’t lift them up so Aerith could retrieve her hands. Though given what he had known so far, she wouldn’t probably need that excuse to tickle him there. Eventually, the brunette managed to get her hands out, where she immediately went to torture his sides again. Seizing this chance, Cloud quickly turned around and seized Aerith by the wrists, bringing her down to the ground, he sitting atop of her.

“Oh, seeking revenge, are we?” Aerith inquired playfully.

He growled. “Let’s see how you like it.” and with that, he dug into her stomach.

Her reaction was instantaneous, her lips parting to release peals of uncontrolled laughter. “Gah! Ahahaha! C-Clo-hahaha-ud!” she shrieked. “Sto-hahaha-p!”

A strange sense of sadism crept into him, though it was far more playful than it was malicious. “You can’t be tapping out already!”

“Yo-hoohoo-u jerk!” she chortled. “I-I’m supposed to be-heehee tickling yo-hoo!”

“I know! You led me out here to do just that, didn’t you?!”

“I-I couldn’t thi-hihi-nk of any-heehee-thing else! Oh plea-heehee-se! STOP!” he didn’t heed her plea, continuing to explore her upper body (though minding to stay away from her chest). He explored all over, sides, stomach, ribs, but when he ducked under her arms, she fell into the same trap he did. She squealed like mad, clamping her arms down, trapping his fingers with little other choices than to continue wriggling and prodding at what appeared to be a VERY sensitive area.

Oh geez…

“EEEE!!! CLOUD!!!” Aerith shrieked her voice rising in pitch. She was completely lost in the throughs of laughter then, knowing that there was no stopping him now. Resigning to her fate, she couldn’t conjure up any pleas and gave into the madness.

Even though his body was on autopilot, he was taken aback by the fact he was even doing this. Here he was, in what was essentially this girl’s backyard, practically killing her with only the use of his fingers. Though he would never tell Aerith to his dying day, the blonde found himself, despite the silliness of the situation, wanting to continue. He wanted to see her wriggling under him in desperation, to see her lips part and release laughter. To hear her high-pitched laugher…

He was loving this.

He actually LOVED this.

“C-CHOCOBO!!!” Aerith cried out. “CHO-HOHOH-BO!!!”

It took him a moment to register what “Chocobo” meant again, yet once he did, Cloud pulled back, letting Aertih breathe. She was little more than a curled-up, messy-haired young woman giggling like crazy, sweat beading down her forehead and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Ah...aha...heheheh…” she managed to get the last of her chortles out, eventually rising to sit up. “You…” she breathed out. “You’re ruthless.”

Cloud was left at a standstill, pondering just how he had managed to get himself in this situation. Had he just done that?

“Hey, you ok?” Aerith asked, then noticing how flustered he was. “Oh, I see how it is.” she giggled. “You LIKED tickling me.”

“What?” Cloud shook his head. “No, that’s…” he stammered, then heard Aerith giggle again.

“You know, I like it when you laugh too,” she said. “In fact,” she leaped on him. “Maybe I wanna hear it again!”

Her fingers went to work and Cloud found himself lost in a haze of his own hysteria. She scribbled over every place she could find, not letting up for one second. “S-Sto-hahaha-p!” Cloud begged, unable to get up as Aerith was over him, he was currently on his back.

“Safeword, remember?”

He continued to protest, to beg and plead for her to stop, yet not once did “Chocobo” come out of his mouth.

#final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #tickle fic #tickle #tickling #cloud #aerith

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willadisastercry · 4 years

Text

More than ‘just a little tired’: the aftermath part 2

tw: lil bit of gore described, burn wounds, collapsing, lots of pain described, muscle relaxer used and effects described, slight paralysis ensues, emotionally heavy towards end.

Keith finally let’s his friends help him but his adrenaline is fading rapidly and everyone is still focused on fussing over Pidge. Lance is distraught with how cold Shiro is being, he doesn’t understand why no one is listening to him while he’s literally supporting Keith with his own body as he crashes. Hunk needs to look at something other than the blood and gore so he tries to find Coran’s magic cream and is just proud he only threw up once.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

“Woah, Hunk! He’s going down!”

Lance dropped to his knee as he struggled to keep Keith from falling further out of his grasp, his face now deathly pale and pressed against his shoulder as he took in large, shuddering breaths to try remain conscious.

“We’ve gotcha bud,” Hunk’s hand snaked around his waist then as Lance righted himself and they brought him back onto unsteady legs, his right not even strong enough now to put much weight on without buckling.

“C’mon we gotta go...”

With his arms slung over either boy’s shoulders and their hands hoisting his hips up by the supply pack on his utility belt, they made their way to the med bay relatively quickly, a feat of which was only possible because at some point Keith had stopped trying to keep up and allowing himself to be dragged was surprisingly a lot faster.

The whooshing of the med bay doors after what felt like an enternity was what startled Keith into opening his eyes again.

“Oh, hey guys...” Shiro said, sparing only a partial glance their way before continuing to pour over Pidge with Coran and Allura. She was awake and fighting the helping hands.

No one seemed to notice Keith’s prone form held up entirely by his friends who stood frozen in the doorway, a bit at a loss for how to proceed.

“I think I’m fine, guys! Seriously. All that’s left is already half healed and not nearly deep enough to warrant a freaking pod!”

“Maybe, but you still lost a lot of blood that will need to be repelenished...” Coran pointed, his mustache twitching as he attempted to convey the necessity of the percaution and failed.

Keith’s legs hadn’t been contributing much to the effort of keeping him standing but admittedly had some part in it because the longer they remained where they stood the more they seemed to melt into jelly.

The adrenaline had almost entirely worn off by then, leaving his body buzzing as the pain slowly intensified.

“G-guys...” Keith whispered weakly, his voice was barely audible.

“What’s—“

“Need to sit... like now...” he managed before his legs were wobbling dangerously, suddenly devoid of all the strength that remained in them.

“Alright, that’s okay. Over there, Lance,” Hunk assured, his injured leg completely useless as he transferred even more of Keith’s weight onto his hip to make up the difference while they ushered him towards one of the chairs across the room.

“Uhhhh, how much longer you guys gonna be with Pidge?” Lance questioned nervously once they’d settled Keith down, his heart clenching with fear for how grey his face had gotten, his hands never leaving his drawn up shoulders out of fear of what would happen if he did.

Hunk was already across the room tearing apart medicine cabinets for the burn cream he’d mentioned and Keith was finding it increasingly difficult to support his own body weight.

“Woah! Okkay—that’s okay, just lean against me,” Lance offered when Keith couldn’t keep himself from swaying as he narrowly avoided leaning back against the chair, nearly tilting out of it before Lance righted him and guided his head to lean against his hip.

“We’ll be done as soon as Pidge stops being difficult... why?” Shiro asked, his eyes still scanning the partially mended slash across the smaller girl’s stomach.

“Just uh, Keith is sort of not doing so well.”

Lance wasn’t entirely sure he understood why everyone was being so curt and dismissive, not tearing their eyes away from a clearly fine Pidge, who yes, at one point had been not fine at all, but was now.

And Keith wasn’t.

The blasts on his back were... bad.

Bad enough for him to be in so much pain he was forced to accept his friend’s help. Lance also figured the haunting glaze of exhaustion in his eyes and purple bruises beneath them had a good deal to do with lowering his defenses, the realization of just how tired he was sending another jab to his chest.

The material of his suit looked like it had melted into his skin, lining the edges of the puffy burns with a smokey black. Some were larger than others but there were at least a dozen and they were all bleeding steadily, the constant rise and fall of his chest making it impossible for any of them to clot.

“I’ll come check him out once—“

The burns were so deep, like little caverns carved into his skin and Lance was suddenly concerned about how zapped the nerves must be that he didn’t even realize he’d been injured this severely.

They looked so painful.

Breathing looked painful. And sitting, and talking and the way moving air brushed against them.

Shit, Keith.

“No, Shiro...”

The words came from deep in his throat, his voice low and serious, a stark derision from his usually charming vibrato.

“I think someone needs to check him out now. We’re talking about Keith here! You should know better than anyone that when he’s says he’s not okay, he means it.”

Shiro’s shoulders dropped as he straightened up, Lance couldn’t even find it in himself to worry about getting told off for his tone with how angry he was, his irritation justifying itself as he watched Keith’s breathing devolve into something more and more erratic.

The room seemed to silence all at once after he’d raised his voice. The inflection of it, shrill with fear and frustration is what got Shiro to finally look their way, his already weary expression falling further at the horror of how Keith looked against Lance. Slumped and panting, his features tight in anguish as blood dripped steadily from somewhere and collected in a now sizeable puddle on the floor.

Pidge was being forced to lay back down when surging up to see what was wrong had her keening and clutching her middle, Allura remaining at her side while Shiro and Coran raced over to the boys.

“What the fuck happened?!” Shiro demanded, his eyes grey pinpoints that bored into Lance with a sort of accusation until the two men reached the pair, both gasping simultaneously when they got close enough to take in the sight of Keith’s back.

“I don’t-I don’t understand, you said you were tired Keith!”

“Plasma blast burns... most of them 2nd degree it looks like...” Coran offered, his eyes flicking wildly as they scanned the burnt and bloody skin.

“He is tired...” Lance assured, turning his gaze back to Keith’s shaking shoulders. His trembles seemed more like spasms then, each jerk prompting a fresh gush of red from the wounds.

“He’s fucking exhausted but was too stubborn to tell anyone he was hurt...” he continued as Coran left muttering to himself in search of supplies, joining Hunk in his endeavor of locating more than just the burn cream now.

“S-sorry... really thought it was just one...” Keith explained before Shiro shushed him, crouching down to run his hand through his hair even though it was slightly damp with sweat.

His eyes weren’t open so he tensed when the hand first fell into place but soon softened under Shiro’s touch, the cold weight of the galra metal oddly comforting.

“It’s not on you, bud. I should’ve checked in more thoroughly, looked you over myself...”

Lance seethed at that, Keith was feeling guilty when Shiro was the one who had fucked up by ignoring him. He didn’t even sound sorry.

“Damn right you sh—“

“What’s that?” Shiro entreated, cutting him off and lifting his head to face the younger boy with something so fierce in his eyes that Lance had to force himself to look elsewhere.

As much as he wanted to tell Shiro how royally he’d fuck up he knew it wouldn’t be productive. Knew full well that the last thing anyone needed was more chaos.

But before Lance had to take actual precautions to contain his anger, Keith made a noise as if he wanted to respond but all that came out was a defeated whine as his chest stuttered which pulled even more at the mess of his back, sending him into a fit of flinching and hissing.

“Hey, you’re alright—“ Lance cooed, the additional hand on Keith’s neck centering him while he tried to ride out the pain without causing more “—that’s it, just take a second to calm down...”

But Keith couldn’t calm his breathing in time to avoid the waves of agony that followed such harsh breaths, eventually becoming desperate enough to clamp his lips shut and hold his breath until his heart let up with its incessant pounding.

This admittedly made the general haze clouding his mind so much worse, sending black dots dancing across the floor as he stared at it against Lance. He hadn’t realized when his hands had traveled up to clutch at Lance’s stomach but they were there now, clawing at the unwavering material stuck to his torso like glue for something to hold onto.

There were so many hands on him but he couldn’t feel much of anything other than the heat on his back and strain in his lungs as he continued to restrict his breathing. It had come to hurt so badly he was afraid to even try to breath normally again.

“-ith!”

Voices sounded so weird and distant then, like they were calling to him from across a noisy room.

“KEITH!”

It wasn’t until someone was knelt down next to him and nearly screaming in his ear that he could understand anything.

“Stop doing that, you have to take deeper breaths or you’ll pass out...”

But he couldn’t manage anything other than short and rapid inhales that weren’t nearly enough. He didn’t care if he passed out. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if he were unconscious and it had gotten to a point where he sort of wished for that kind of relief.

Coran was speaking to Shiro over them then, of which Keith had only ascertained from the way Shiro’s hand left the base of his skull to rest more on the crown of his head just as a dull and disordered humming began.

His hearing had abandoned him again once Shiro left his position, reducing the conversation to unintelligible murmurs drowned out by the rumbling in his eardrums. The static spotting his vision not letting up as the blast wounds burned relentlessly on his back. It felt like there were literal flames licking up at even the slightest movement and marring deep as the fire only seemed to spread.

The entire expanse of his upper body had gone numb with it, his arms slack at his sides and his neck weak under the weight of his head as he put all of his concentration into slowing his breathing and keeping it as controlled as possible. He didn’t even feel the hands slipping under his armpits or fingers tugging at his supply belt, only the scorching stretch of his body straightening as he was pulled to his feet.

Lance and Shiro shifted around him with care, Shiro guiding his head to rest on his shoulder when it rolled limply, Coran hovering anxiously as they struggled to lift him to his feet without jarring his injuries. In reality, it was entirely unavoidable but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

Keith really tried to hold his own weight this time, but as soon as he was upright, his back lit with a new fury that had his vision whiting. Soon he couldn’t even be certain his feet were still on the ground as his body went lax and the darkness that had been teasing him descended quicker than he could process.

He assumed he had screamed bloody murder since his stinging throat was the only pain he could pinpoint as he lost consciousness, but by then he wouldn’t have been able to hear his own voice if he spoke so he wasn’t be sure. All he knew was that he’d pitched into a slew of arms like his bones had spontaneously emulsified, blissfully unaware as to how the whole room seemed to cry out when he did.

Pidge was near tears with Allura struggling to assure her that Keith would be fine, and Hunk was so startled by the commotion that he had nearly flung the supplies he was organizing on a sterile tray.

“Let’s get him settled comfortably before he comes to,” Coran ordered, his voice sharp and anguished as he motioned towards where Hunk was stood.

Together and with considerable effort the three dragged Keith’s limp body to the other side of the room, careful to keep his torso straight and his injured leg from bending so they didn’t inflame his wounds further, depositing his lifeless weight onto the table on his stomach where all of his injuries could be tended to.

“We have to get as much of the suit off as possible... some of it will of course take a little more effort,” Coran sighed as he poked at one of the darker blast marks with a wider radius than most of the other. There was a ring of molten black around it that looked like it had dripped into the pit of missing flesh from where the material of the suit had melted off. The sentry that shot him there must have been only a few feet away.

“Alaran...” Allura gasped out as she made her way to the group once Pidge had calmed down enough to be left alone.

“These are going to need extensive cleaning before we can put him into a pod.”

“I know, Princess. Let’s get started, maybe we can get the bulk of it finished while he’s still uncioncious,” Coran postured, distributing the supplies Hunk had gathered to everyone.

The task was harrowing and had everyone slightly queasy, but the urgency to complete the process before Keith woke up prevailed everyone’s gag reflexes, even Hunk’s.

Being enveloped by the black that had teased him so long wasn’t as bad as Keith had imagined it would be. It was warm like this, more absent of cold than possesing a distinguishable heat. Pleasant. Peaceful even. A more than welcomed improvement to the inferno he was slowly being consumed by when he was awake and alert.

Sounds started coming back to him slowly as his body recovered from the shock of his plummet in blood pressure. His friends’ words sharpening gradually to where he could almost make out what they were saying.

“...suction... yes, that bit has to go as well...”

He still felt floaty and numb from the pain but knew he was laying on his front and could feel a sensation of tugging and pulling on his back.

“...keeps moving... waking up...”

It wasn’t so much painful as it was uncomfortable in his state of semi-consciousness.

“...dangerous to... sedative before a prolonged stay in the pod...”

His brain was just too fuzzy, still replenishing the blood supply to his brain.

“...looks like he’s in pain...”

Each moment he remained in limbo he grew more restless.

“...Coran I can’t... this piece... tearing the skin...”

The in and out of everything was making him anxious, he’d rather just be entirely out or entirely conscious.

“...should will help with any discomfort...”

Whatever was meant to help wasn’t. He was aware he’d probably been given some sort of drug or medicine but still he couldn’t relax.

It didn’t matter that he was utterly exhausted, his body was reacting to the anxiety bubbling in his stomach whether he had the energy to support such a reaction or not.

“...easy Keith...”

That’s the thing, he couldn’t take it easy. His mind was wired and his body was going into shock once again as things clarified and he woke up more.

“You’re alright number four... steady now, just breathe...”

If he thought it was hard to breathe before it seemed like it was absolutely impossible now.

“-us? Keith...? Keith, can you hear us?”

He could. He could hear everything now. It was all so loud and piercing, everyone’s voices, the tools clicking, his heart beating, the tear of medical supplies packages. Everything was so crisp and right there, the smallest noises sending tingles down his spine that made him want to cringe and he struggled to surpress the urge to.

“Quiznak! Coran I’m gonna hurt him if he keeps squirming!”

He was panting now, his mouth hung open against the towel folded under his face that was catching the blood still leaking from the wound under his eye. A hand came down on the back of his neck and he jumped.

That did it for the pain that seemed to have been numbed, not gone, just too far away for him to register. It was just as close as all of the sounds were now.

Hands clutched at his shoulders and forearms and hips as he wailed, pushing him flat so his flailing didn’t make it worse. He sobbed loudly and unabashedly as the pain surged its way back to the forefront of his awareness, a strange warmth similar to the one he’d felt when he had passed out taking the edge off but not staving it much.

“Keith! Listen to me, you have to relax. I know this is torture, but you’re only going to make it worse if you keep struggling,” Shiro urged, his voice the closest.

Shiro was right, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control of his movements anymore, because if he was he would listen. He didn’t want to hurt anymore but his body didn’t seem to give a shit.

“Coran,” Allura said sadly, her eyes looking at him with a sort of heart breaking resolution.

“Okay, Princess,” he agreed, his expression falling dejectedly.

“What-what is it? What just happened?!” Lance asked worriedly, knowing something had seemingly been decided but no idea as to what.

“We’re going to have to give him a muscle relaxer to keep him still, but it won’t take away his pain. We simply cannot risk putting him in a pod while medically sedated, we couldn’t be sure he would ever wake again if we did.”

For the second time that evening a collective silence fell over the room, one filled with such aching and regret and fear that it was as if it wasn’t silent at all.

“Do whatever you have to,” Shiro advocated, handing the tools he’d been using to Hunk.

“But he’ll be in pain Shiro?!” Lance noted desperately, his indignation back in full force.

Shiro just looked at him sadly and moved to drag a stool over to the other end of the table where Keith’s head was, his face twisted up as his sounds of pain continued.

“How can you be so heartless? It wouldn’t be so painful if Allura had partially healed him too! If you had given enough of a shit to notice sooner! To notice at all!”

The sound of Lance yelling bore into Keith’s skull sickeningly, his body unable to contain the shiver that overtook his muscles at how bone deep the sound irked his now oversentive ears.

“Lance—“

“No, Allura. He’s right, this is my fault. I was too focused on the fact that Pidge was hurt to notice that he was too and now he’s worse off because of it. I didn’t listen to him when I should’ve. Administer whatever you have to Coran, I’ll help him through this, it’s the least I can do right now...”

Coran didn’t have to be told twice, skillfully pulling liquid from a vile with a syringe that he poked gently into Keith’s neck.

Hunk nudged Lance’s arm to break his death glare at Shiro and get back to freeing one of the wider wounds on his shoulder as the medicine took affect almost immediately.

“Sh-sh-shir-Shiro...”

“I’m right here, shhhh, don’t speak. Just relax, I’ve got you,” Shiro soothed, grasping Keith’s hand tightly as he took shuddering breaths that grew more and more shallow as whatever control he had left over his body slipped away from him.

With some last few twitches he sagged completely into the table. The hand clutching Shiro’s released its grip and the older boy started to thumb assuring circles into the limp appendage since he could still feel it.

“This is gonna suck, but just focus on me okay?”

Keith couldn’t nod, couldn’t move his exhausted body at all now, so he sighed instead. The tears that had welled at his eyes falling defeatedly and mixing with the blood staining his right cheek to make a slightly pinker mess on the towel beneath him.

“Just focus on me...”

#voltron fandom #keith angst #keith voltron #keith whump #lance and hunk to the rescue #protective lance #bad shiro #voltron fic #voltron whump #voltron fanfic #voltron pidge #hunk is here too #he doesn’t throw up this time #vld #whumpee #emotional whump #whump fic #voltron #burn wounds

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Kiro x MC - Uniform

Pairing: Kiro x MC (F).

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice.

Prompt: Master || Lapdance|| Uniform

Warning: Playful sex, slight dirty talk, Kiro just being a horny boi, internal cum-shot.

Surprise post for @alloveroliver kinktober🎃

Thank you @theinariakuma for being wonderful and beta-ing (again) I owe you so much 💛

Loveland’s military holiday was approaching fast and excitement buzzed through the city. A national holiday that was celebrated for all, a day where all appreciation was sent out to the troops and army. And this year, international superstar Kiro was showing his support with a new music video where all profits went to supporting the families who were part of the army.

It was a big day event that required every single team member to be on top form. The video was very hushed, Kiro not wanting to pull any attention away from the day itself during the build up. Filming would take place in one day on a set, Kiro even managing to wrangle his girlfriend, his beloved Miss.Chips, a spot on the promotion poster as a 50’s pin-up doll. Of course she was flattered to the highest point that Kiro had wanted her rather than a real model, Kiro’s exact words ‘They have nothing compared to your beauty Miss.Chips’.

So when they arrived, in separate cars to eliminate any suspicion from the hungry, loitering press, on the morning of the shoot she never expected to be whisked away into hair and make up first thing. Her hair curled into loose waves, her fringe pinned back and held in place by a khaki green, small-side cap. Her lips painted with a bold red and a strong black line on her eyes to accentuate her facial features. A skin tight blouse with short sleeves was tucked into a pleated skirt the same colour of her cap, touching just below her mid-thighs whilst a belt brought in the illusion of her always petite waist. Stockings ran up to the edge of her knees, green heels placed on to her feet. A red cravat nestled beneath the collar of her shirt. A true vision of elegance with a sensual touch.

Kiro found himself utterly distracted as he watched her pose a top of the prop tank that had been made for the shoot. Sitting on it with one knee raised, giving a teasing peak of her skin as the skirt rose up. Her hand in a salute position with a beaming smile on her face. Breathtaking was all he could think.

However she found herself just as distracted by him. A similar style green to the outfit she was wearing clung to him, a button up jacket laced with a gold chain that connected to a sweeping cape, a black buckle belt tightly around his waist. Tight trousers down to his ankle, gold embroidment across the outfit and a lieutenants cap was perfectly placed on his sunshine blonde hair. Power, dominance but most important patriotism radiated from him. Capturing the room as he strided in with a few striking steps. His eyes meeting hers from across the room, the sexual tension between them already pulsing and visible.

She watched from the side as he paraded across the set, a strong sense of dignity and loyalty packed into the words he was singing. Maturity twisted into a new sense of him. One that suited him. Her eyes fixed on him, flushing slightly during in between takes as Kiro would shoot her a lust filled look or a cheeky wink. Looks that sent arousal straight down to her core and left her panties uncomfortably wet.

“You look so beautiful, I can’t believe I pushed to let you do this, this,” A hand ran up her thigh, under her skirt to cup the barely covered round of her ass, “Should be just for me,”. Kiro appeared from behind causing a little gasp to fall from her mouth. He’d snuck off the set to where she stood watching, pressing himself to her back as he whispered lowly in her ear.

“I can assure you, that this only belongs to you sir,” Her voice wavering slightly as he pinched on her cheeks. A low chuckle masking a groan against her neck, the teasing press of her hips back against his groin.

“God your making it so hard to keep sight of what I’m doing,” Pressing kisses to her neck, moving both of his hands to hold her waist. The pair hidden from view in the corner of the room, the rest of the cast and crew too busy in changing the set and prompts. “You know, we have about 7 minutes until I’m needed back on set,”.

She turned, her eyes meeting his blazoned ones, lust and need emitting from both of them.

“Have I told you how much I love a man in uniform?” Pressing her hands to his chest, throwing her head over her shoulder for a quick scan of the room, realising no one was watching them as she slid her hands down to press over the hidden bulge in his trousers. A final check from both of them before they headed off quickly hand in hand down an empty corridor, heading in the direction of the prop room, knowing they would have less chance of being disturbed in there.

Pulling her tightly to him, kick the door shut behind him as their lips locked. Perfectly pressed red lipstick now smearing over his lips as he tilted her head back to angle the kiss. Her hands already resuming position over his crotch- it had been rapidly hardening the minute he saw her in that outfit.

He stood proud watching as she pulled back, just about to drop to her knees, her hands already working to undo his belt. His fingers catching her chin to keep standing, “No, I want, I need to be inside you Miss.Chips,”.

Kiro had no doubt she could bring him to a release with just her mouth in under the time they had, she’d done it it many of times before. His favourite when he was on his tour and had three minutes between stage set swaps, her mouth around his cock as she sucked him to completion with only a few seconds left to spare before he had to run back out to a crowd of fans.

"I normally wouldn't mind... But all I want to do is fuck your pretty face." His voice was low, raspy. "And with only five minutes... They'll notice if I ruin all this hard work for your makeup. So we'll save that for after."

Holding her waist he hoisted up into the air, pressing her back against the wall as her legs automatically locked around his waist.

“You're so wet already Miss.Chips,” His voice huskier than normal as he prodded the wet stained material of her panties, directly beneath her core.

“Kiro… Kiro please,” She whispered, one arm holding onto the back of his neck whilst the other pushed his teasing fingers aside to move her underwear out of the way. “I need you, I need you so badly,”. Her voice was full of desperation, a needing plea as she lost herself into the sky-blue of his eyes.

“Let me just-“ Pressing a finger to her, ready to sink into her but her hand tugged it away.

“Fuck me, Kiro please just fuck me,” Time was hastily running out.

Her words caused something inside him to snap, primal and urgent needs taking over as let out a low growl. Holding her waist still his other hand freed himself, spitting onto his hand as he coaxed himself with a few pumps before pressing against her. Rather than thrusting up, he pulled her down to be impaled onto his cock, a grin on his face to watch her back arch and a hand to cover her mouth shielding the wanton moans that would have flooded the room.

Kiro let a sly smirk cross his features, "So that's what you want? Don't worry Miss Chips, I'll fuck you so good. You won't be able to think straight when we have to get back out there... But don't worry. I'll make sure to reward you once we get home for being such a good girl." He bounced her with his impressive-strength, one that he rarely used showing his utter need, over his cock whilst he thrusted into her. Time working against them, the seconds counting down fast as Kiro pounded her into the wall. His lips attached to her neck whilst his thumb dropped down to circle tightly over her clit in time to his thrusts. The motion bringing on her orgasm fast and hard, with fair little warning as her walls spasmed over him. A lightly string of curses fell from her mouth, jaw slackened as she tossed the hat off his head to ground herself with one hand tugging at his hair.

“Kiro-Kiro! Too much..I-” She whimpered, the hand on the back of his head digging her nails into his scalp whilst the other curled into a fist and slammed the solid wall against her. His movements never ceasing, the thumb over her clit continuing to circle the hyper-senstive flesh.

"I know I'm being greedy, Miss Chips... But I need another...".

"A-another?" Her voice, heavy and thick with pleasure and confusion until his actions answered her. “Oh fuck Kiro!” Head thrown back as Kiro threw her head first into another orgasm, walls tightening and pulling him deeply back into her every time he thrusted. Her efforts to keep quiet failed, Kiro holding a complacent grin to see how undone and unraveled she had become and it was all because of him.

Her release brought on his own as her muscles pulsed over him, his lips crashing down on hers to capture the moans of both of them. An attempt to keep their noise to a minimum, her cries of pleasure would have lured more attention than he’d have liked secretly praying no one, Savin, heard them.

“I got you baby, I got you,” He whispered between kisses, pulling his thumb away from her clit as her after-shocks and trembles eased. Both her hands grasping onto his shoulders, mixed breathes struggling to regain their normality as they stilled in their position. Both of them savouring the blissful feeling of their afterglow for a few seconds before he finally pulled his softened cock out of her. A thick trail of their mixed releases slowly leaked from her abused hole, Kiro moving her underwear in place to try keep it from spreading across her thighs. Although the top of them were purely soaked with messy arousal, the scent of sex dancing across her lower half.

“Good girl Miss.Chips,” Kiro continued to kiss her softly as he put her legs down on the ground, they were still trembling as she continued to cling to him for support. He thumbed under her eyes to wipe the small trail of mascara that collected on her skin from her watery eyes, wiping them over her mouth to remove the smudge of her rouge lips and helped sort out their outfits. He grabbed his hat she had thrown off of him, taking his hand in hers before guiding them to leave the prop room, a low whisper as he told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep all my promises for being such a good girl, I promise I’ll make you scream as soon as we’re finished here.”

Kinktober masterlist here.

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #mlqc kiro #mr love kiro #mr love queen's choice kiro #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #mlqc smut #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc zhou qiluo #mr love zhou qiluo

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carters-coffee · 4 years

Text

Imagine giving Clair a break from work

Word Count: 1,389

Notes: Nsfw warning for this, 18+ only. I've been wanting to write for Clair for awhile and I feel kindaaa bad the first thing I write for her is shameless smut but not too bad XD also HUGE thanks to my friend @sapphichellie for drafting the first half of this otherwise there prolly would've been like 2k words of emotional buildup before anything actually happened and I prolly wouldn't have finished the spicy part.

Okiedokie here it is

****

You open the door to the study slowly, a bowl of fresh strawberries in your hand. Clair is sitting in the chair at her desk. It's littered with sheets of paper, preserved bug samples, and books opened up to diagrams and thesis on things like insect anatomy and species differentiation. She's pouring over one such book now, and you can tell by the furrow of her brow that she's completely engrossed in what she's doing.

"Hi, baby." You say softly. "I brought you a snack."

She smiles and hums her thanks, not tearing her eyes away from the book. You move further into the room.

"Can't you take a small break?" You ask, finding a space for the bowl amid the clutter and planting yourself on the footstool next to her.

"No, sorry darling. I've got to finish this, no time for breaks..." She trails off, speaking in that airy, distracted tone she always gets when she's focused on a project.

"But don't you want some strawberries?" You ask. "They're fresh from the garden, I just picked them."

She still doesn't look up, even when you lightly nudge the bowl towards her.

"Mmh, maybe later..." She adjusts her glasses and scribbles a note in the journal she has laying next to the book.

In all honesty, you didn't come just to bother her with strawberries. For the past few weeks she's been working late every night, often only leaving her study and collapsing into bed next to you when she could no longer write a coherent sentence. You missed spending time with her, and she deserved a chance to relax.

And you had something in mind she hadn't received for awhile.

You get up from the stool and move behind her, working your fingers into her shoulders. You're surprised at how tense they are - must be the result of sitting hunched over a desk for so long - and as her muscles slowly loosen under your touch, accompanied by a pleased groan from her, you start removing the light yellow cardigan she's wearing, gently tossing it to the side.

You notice she's wearing one of your favorite sundresses of hers, and you start peppering soft kisses across her shoulders, running one of your hands down her body to her thigh and rubbing slowly while the other still massages her shoulder.

"Clair, please come to bed. I've missed you." You move your kisses up to her neck, now sucking slightly.

She only hesitates for a moment before protesting. "Really, baby, I've got to get this done." She moves her shoulder up to block you and brushes your hands away.

You scoff, offended that she would choose her work over you. You have one last thing to try, the only way of getting her attention at this point. You're sure it will work, it never failed to make her melt in your hands.

You drop to your knees, moving under the table to where her legs were. Grabbing her by the knees, you push her legs apart.

"Baby, what are you doing?" She says, leaning away from the desk to look down at you. You move your hand under her dress and start rubbing the outside of her underwear, biting your lip and looking up at her through your lashes for the full effect. She moans softly, gripping the desk and rising her hips to your touch.

"Just let me take care of you, Clair." You hook your fingers into the hem of her underwear, pulling them down, and she lifts her hips to help you. Then you grab her and pull her to the edge of the seat, your intentions now clear as your breath graces her core. She's not wet yet, but you can tell how badly she wants you by the way she spreads her legs a little wider, her breathing uneven.

You place a feather light kiss on the sensitive skin where her thigh joins her body. "Do you remember the last time I touched you like this?" You murmur.

"Mhm. Last... last month."

"Last month." You repeat. "Such a long time." You let your lips barely brush her folds as you move to kiss the same place on the other side. "But you remember how good it felt, don't you?"

You receive a jerky nod in response, and she moves one of her hands down to lace her fingers with yours.

"Do you remember the way you turned to putty in my hands? How relaxed you were?" You ask as you press kisses along the line of her lips, purposely not spreading them apart just yet. "I wanna make you feel like that again, Clair."

You finally use your tongue to spread her lips apart, licking from the base of her entrance to the tip of her clit. The motion is slow and possessive, your tongue pressed flat and firm against her. Her fingers tighten around yours and her hips buck up as she lets out a noise of pleasure somewhere between a whimper and a moan. You did the same thing again, this time letting your tongue flick teasingly inside her entrance.

"Oh, please." She moans, burying her other hand in your hair and pulling you closer. Her nails scrape the back of your scalp slightly, sending tingles erupting down your spine.

"Mm... please what?" You ask, going back to kissing the now exposed pink flesh.

"Your-your tongue. Inside me, please, baby."

Her begging makes heat rush to your stomach, and you press one more soft kiss to her clit before dipping your tongue completely inside her, swirling it around. The taste of her explodes in your mouth, sweet and warm, and you feel her thighs tense under your fingers as she clenches around you, letting out a sigh of relief. You begin pumping your tongue in and out and she falls back against the chair, eyes closed in pleasure.

"Look at me, honey." You say, removing your tongue to swirl it around her clit. Her eyes snap open and she gazes down at you, hips bucking into your mouth. The look of pure pleasure on her face makes the heat in your stomach even more intense, turning to a hot coil, and you continue alternating between her clit and fucking her with your tongue, wanting to make the pleasure as sweet and slow as you can. She whines and squirms in your grasp, her pants and whimpers of your name egging you on. Every time she closes her eyes you dig your nails slightly into the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, reminding her to keep looking at you. Her small thrusts become strong, then messy as she gets closer to her orgasm.

"I'm about to... come.." She finally gasps out, wrapping her legs around you. Her heels dig into the small of your back. You only hum in response, the vibration sending a shudder through her body.

You feel it the moment her orgasm washes over her, in the way she clenches around your tongue as her juices flow into your mouth. Her hand untangles itself from yours, joining the other in your hair to press you harder against her while her hips rut into your face, her thighs spasming as you keep them forced open. Her moans of bliss are music to your ears, sending waves of pleasure through you while she rides out her orgasm.

When its over, you keep dragging your tongue through her folds, wanting to get every last drop of her arousal before she pushes you away from the over stimulation. Then you climb up into the chair, straddling her and capturing her in a deep kiss before either of you could catch your breath.

You pull away, taking in her post-orgasmic appearance. Her face and chest are flushed pink, her glasses are a little askew and she's panting slightly, her chest rising and falling with the motion. You fix her glasses and run your thumbs soothingly over her cheeks.

"How was it?" You ask.

"I may have to take breaks a little more often." She says breathlessly. You laugh and kiss her again.

"Will you please come to bed, now?" You murmur against her lips. At her nod, you take her hand and lead her to the bedroom where you two spend the rest of the night.

****

I’m not putting a tag list this time coz i dont wanna accidentally tag someone underage.

#clair spivet #clair spivet imagine #clair spivet x reader #n ;)#the ending feels rushed but we gon ignore that

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