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muddyorbsblr · 6 months

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reckless girl pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @holdmytesseract

Summary: When you didn't show up for your date with Magnus, the last place he thought he'd find you was inside the Ystad police station…in a holding cell

Pairing: Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: talks of injuries; cliffhanger at the end

Things to be aware of: established relationship

"Why so glum, Martinsson? Not enough sleep?" Kurt clapped a hand on the curly blond haired detective's soldier, jerking him out of his worry spiral. "Girl trouble?"

Magnus lifted his chin from his joint fists, unable to iron out the furrow between his eyebrows. "Something like that…Y/N, my girlfriend. We were supposed to meet after my shift last night and she never showed. Hasn't called or texted either."

"Maybe she ghosted you, lad," Svedberg jested from his desk. "Had enough of the barflies clinging about you, did 'erself a favor."

"No," he said with conviction. "She wouldn't do that, that's not her." You'd been dating for long enough that he knew you wouldn't just disappear from his life with no contact like that. There was something else going on, there had to be. Another reason why you weren't at the restaurant last night. Another reason you weren't picking up your phone.

"Maybe try her again," Kurt offered. "If you still have nothing, you can always find a reason to patrol around her area and pay your girl a visit."

"Really? You won't be cross if I did?"

"For anyone else I'd suspend them on the spot if they attended to matters of the heart while on duty but I'd rather have the brightest bulb in the station actually functioning in the station, rather than have his mind wandering off to where his lady could be." He gave the younger detective a tight smile, knowing full well that had he been in Martinsson's spot, he'd be doing the same thing. "Try her again."

This time your phone rang twice before someone answered. "This is the Ystad holding area, and the owner of this mobile has been detained until--"

"Officer Jansen?"

"Detective Martinsson? Why are you calling--"

"Where's Y/N? This is her phone I've been trying to reach her since last night and--"

"Well last night a Ms Y/L/N was brought here for holding and we confiscated this phone off her person. Drunk and disorderly behavior," Jansen offered.

Just then another voice, your voice, spoke through the line. "Hey, the other guy was drunk and disorderly, it's not my fault the wanker couldn't fight!"

Magnus took a deep breath, a mix of both frustration and relief. Mostly the latter knowing now where you were exactly and that he would most likely see you in the next few minutes. "Jansen, I don't know what she did but I can guarantee you she probably had a good reason for it. Could you maybe…I dunno, let her off with a warning? I'll talk to her, make sure this doesn't happen again."

There was a deep sigh from the other end of the line before the officer spoke again. "Fine. She doesn't have a record, and the other guy seems to be too embarrassed to press charges seeing as he got his arse beat by a woman, so her name stays clean. But if this happens again--"

"It won't," he answered, a little less conviction in his tone. "Could you please send her here, though? I've been on edge since last night."

"Say no more, I'll have her there with an escort in a few minutes."

It didn't take long until another officer from the holding area stepped into the detectives area, and Magnus finally laid his eyes on you. And he saw red.

The second the officer uncuffed you, he was rushing over, placing his hands on your shoulders trying to assess the damage done. Your neck was red and purple, the skin of your knuckles split and bloodied, cuts and scrapes all over your face. There even seemed to still be specks of dirt in some of the wounds.

"Hello, sweetie," you spoke after a few moments of him taking stock of the injuries you sustained, wincing when you tried to give him a smile and it opened the wound on your lip that had only healed a fraction of the way the night before. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the restaurant--"

"Never mind that, darling," he waved off your apology, taking your hands in his and pressing his lips to the backs of your fingers, being careful not to touch any injured portion of your skin. "All I care about right now is that you're safe." He jerked his head over to his desk. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. And then you can tell me what happened. Starting with who dared lay a hand and bloody up my precious angel's face like this."

"My sister Stella's in town and we went out straight after my shift to grab some drinks--Ach." You flinched at the stinging of the alcohol-soaked cotton round that he pressed to the cut on your cheek.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, ignoring the teasing remarks from the other detectives on the floor as he tended to your wounds. "But we have to get these cleaned out so they don't get infected. We've already lost so much time since these just stayed as they were the entire time you were in that holding cell."

"I know I know," you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut when he resumed disinfecting the cuts. "It's not my first fight, you know. Still stings like a right bitch every bloody time, though."

He finished dressing the wounds on your face before moving to your cut and bruised knuckles. "Did no one even come to check on you before they booked you last night?" he grumbled, seeing the caked blood and dirt around these wounds as well.

"No. Everyone's attention was mostly on the other guy, making sure he got to the hospital safe and all that."

"Ah, so you're the mystery assailant," Kurt spoke up, walking up to Magnus' desk. "I just got off the phone with the hospital about some professional pick-up artist, whatever the shite that is, and how he refuses to press charges because if anyone knew what happened to him it'll ruin his image." He stuck out a hand toward you. "Kurt Wallander, I'm Magnus' supervising officer."

You gave him a little wave in response. "Not exactly how I pictured meeting Magnus' workmates, but I'll take it. Hi. Y/N Y/L/N, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd shake your hand but--"

"I'll be quite cross with you if you split open your wounds over pleasantries, sweetheart," the blond detective butted in. He turned to his supervisor. "Hang on the case you were called to this morning? The assault victim? That was--"

"Hold on…if the wanker didn't press charges, does the word 'assailant' still apply to me?"

"Yes," both men said at once.

"But I'm willing to consider this a case deservedly closed since firstly, the pervert wanker chose not to press charges. And second, he's had it coming for a long while. Man's got an entire binder of reports for sleazeball behavior, but we just don't have the laws here yet to book someone for unjust vexation," Kurt told you both before addressing you directly. "Just don't make a habit out of getting detained or else I won't be able to do anything about the station giving your boyfriend grief over dating a 'bad girl'." He put the last bit in air quotes, jerking his head over at the desks of the jeering detectives on the other side of the floor.

"I'll do what I can," you shot back, scrunching your nose in place of a smile. "But in my defense, he was getting handsy with my sister and she's a little too peaceful and zen that the woman wouldn't hurt a fly, I had to."

"Careful, darling. Wallander here has a soft spot for the hero types, he might just issue you a gun," Magnus joked, finishing up on your knuckles and pressing a soft kiss to the bandages.

"Considering that the man you put in the hospital is just one in a large group of men doing much of the same?" the senior detective shot back. "I might just, might even give Linda one just to err on the side of caution and all that." He took a finger at you. "You be careful out there. Willing to bet my badge you ticked off a good few unstable men with egos bigger than their brain power. Some of them might be capable of a bit more than a few cuts and scrapes. And might be on the hunt for who put one of their own in casts and stitches."

"I'll keep safe. Thank you, Detective Wallander." You stood up and gave an awkward wave, making a motion to start walking out of the station. "I should get going. Wouldn't want to take up more of Magnus' time while he's at work."

That got the blond detective shooting out of his seat. "I'll see you out, then." He led you out the station, hand securely at your waist as he made sure you could walk properly. "Go straight home, tell your sister you're safe and you're not going to jail. And then tomorrow, how about we meet for breakfast after you've had some rest?"

"Yes, Sir," you answered playfully before throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. "Thank you, Mags," you whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. "I love you."

His heart caught in his throat at your words. You'd never said it first before. "I love you, too, little spitfire." He tucked his fingers under your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before letting you go. "I'll see you in the morning."

Only when morning came, he sat at the restaurant near the station all alone, letting a whole hour pass before concluding that you weren't coming once again. Going off of what had transpired the day before, he showed up at the Ystad police station's holding area a good hour ahead of his shift, ready to try his luck at talking your way out of whatever situation you'd gotten yourself into.

"Morning, Martinsson," Jansen greeted him once the officer caught sight of the blond curls descending the stairs. "What brings you here so early--"

"Is Y/N here? Again?"

The officer began typing away at the system, giving commentary along the way. "She's a bit of a baddie, isn't she? Getting booked there twice in just as many days--Huh…" Jansen tilted his head in confusion at the information on the screen. "I don't see anything from last night's records. Maybe check the holding cells just in case? Sorry, Martinsson."

Magnus let out a sharp exhale, the frustration radiating off him in waves. "No worries. Thanks, Jansen." He set off toward the three holding cells they had in the station, only one of them being occupied by a drunk driver that was booked last night and was awaiting for his wife to bail him out. The other two were empty and clean as a whistle, no sign of anyone having even been there in the last 24 hours.

He picked up his phone and tapped on your name, his heart thundering in his ears as he waited for you to answer. "Please tell me you just slept in, sweetheart," he mumbled, his body already shaking with every second his call went unanswered.

But then the line got picked up, and his heart lodged itself in his throat.

"Hello?" The voice of a woman. But not yours.

"Who is this?" he nearly barked at the stranger's voice. "Where's Y/N?"

"I'm Stella, her sister, hold on who the hell are you?"

"Magnus, her boyfriend. Where's your sister? Why do you have her phone?" His tone became more impatient.

"She was supposed to meet me last night for dinner. Told me she needed to get some rest after what happened the other day that got her arrested," your sister explained, the answer making the detective even more panicked. "She never showed, figured she slept too long and I'd pick her up for some breakfast, but--" Her breath hitched on the other line, a jagged exhale coming through from her end as she composed herself. "She's not here. And the place is a mess. Hang on--If you're the boyfriend, you're the detective, right?"

"Y-Yes, yes I am." He could barely manage the words; he felt so hollow inside, dreading what words he would hear next.

"I'd like to report a crime, then," Stella spoke, her voice wavering as she tried to put up a brave front. "My sister's missing, there's blood on the floor. Someone's hurt my sister."

A/N: Eeeeeee I'm so excited to give this one to y'all! It's been a while since I started on another request and when I tell you that the words just started flying when I got into the vibe that this story was gonna give. I know I know…there's a cliffhanger…but there will be a part 2 in a few days and we're gonna see just what happened after YN left the station…

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Magnus taglist: @vbecker10

#magnus martinsson x reader #magnus martinsson x female reader #magnus martinsson imagine #wallander fanfiction #wallander #wallander fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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dimepdf · 2 years

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DATING KURT WOULD INCLUDE. + KURT KUNKLE

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. what being in a relationship with Kurt would be like.

pairing. kurt kunkle x reader

genre and warnings. 18+ under cut MDNI, none gender specific, incel Kurt, fluff, gamer boyfriend trope, not canon to movie, just silly little headcanons, i honestly don't know how to tag this. | — feedback is always welcomed & don’t forget to reblog 🤍

Honestly, I can not believe that you guys convinced me to write this. You literally put a gun to my head and told me to start writing this with my black ass.

Ight come get y'all juice ig.

Kurt is the type of boyfriend who just doesn't know what to do when you show him affection, the man takes a minute to process every compliment that you give him.

"Wait...Did you just call me a pretty boy?"

"Kurt, I said that an hour ago, babe."

Your first date is going to be cheap.

I'm just being honest here, but that doesn't mean that this man wouldn't burn a hole in his pockets just to buy you whatever you want from the McDonald's dollar menu.

He will randomly just check up on you throughout the day.

Even if you're spending it together, he’ll suddenly just stop what he’s doing and analyze you for a bit.

Despite you two being in a relationship, Kurt pulls zero bitches, no matter how much he tries to present himself as this super confident guy with a super hot partner.

And because of that, he’s very inexperienced when it comes to relationships.

You have to be the one to initiate everything when it comes to your relationship.

But when you are being affectionate, you have to turn it all the way up a notch because this man is kind of dense.

You would wrap your arms around him as he sat in his gamer chair watching him play one of his silly little games.

The sound leaking from his headset as you shifted to his lap, unaffected by your presence, thinking you just wanted to cuddle.

But then you start kissing him on the collarbone...

Man's is instantly hard.

here's where it get's a little spicy...

You discover that Kurt is quite vocal during sex.

Like a modern day porn star, you cannot shut him the fuck up.

Every little touches from you makes him feel like he’s experiencing sex for the first time, every time.

It isn't that hard to please him since he’s never felt the touch of a everyone ever in his life, so you would give him the most sheet gripping, teeth clenching, knuckle biting head of his life.

Kurt has this thing with eye contact.

You have to look him in the eye while you guys are having sex or he just can’t cum.

Same with biting.

He doesn't do it to you, but he’ll burst at the seams if you tease him by sinking your teeth into any part of his body.

Do not try this with his slong.

He has accidentally hit you before the time that you tried to jump scare him.

His reflexes are insane.

Also he cries.

You have to give that man aftercare because he literally breaks down.

That post-nut clarity hits him like a ton of fucking bricks.

All he wants to do is be the little spoon and cuddle with you.

okay back to being cute again...

Whenever he wins a round, you have to kiss him.

He’ll spring from his gamer chair at the end of the round and jump onto the mattress just to steal a kiss from you.

will brag about you to the ten-year olds online that he’s playing with

“Yeah, well my partner is super freaking hot so…no im not lying dude!”

“Y/N! COME TELL THEM THAT YOU’RE TOTALLY REAL AND NOT MY MOM!”

waking up and seeing him on the game or making his little "beep boop" music in the corner of the room with the lights turned off.

“Jesus Christ Kurt, turn on the light at least you look like a serial killer.”

“Oh I'm sorry honey, I just didn't want to wake you!”

He constantly asks you for your opinion on everything.

He just can’t help it.

He just constantly wants your approval and wants to impress everyone, especially you.

Lowkey, he has this thing with taking pictures of you while you're sleeping, like his entire camera roll would be just you sleeping in random places he likes to scroll through whenever he’s bored.

You guys do fight, just not very often, but when you do, it's usually over something very serious.

“....are you mad at me Y/N?”

“You literally drove off and left me in a random fucking parking lot because of a game sale Kurt.”

Since he is very into being social media famous, you do have to bring the hammer on him sometimes to stop him from doing dangerously stupid trends.

But other than that, your relationship is usually just shits and giggles.

🔖 @quinnxmunson @lluvin @summerhornet @coralluminaryinternet @jonathansmalewife (for Kurt)

tap here to be added to taglist.

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ssweetleaf · 3 days

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i wanna give kurt his first ever bj and watch him cum so hard in like five seconds- I wanna give that first lick and hear him choke on the little whine he lets out. He’s trying to be cool and/or impress you by lasting a while but he severely underestimates how fucking good your mouth feels.

His hands curled in your hair, face twisted almost like he’s in pain. His hips are bucking up, desperate to get more of your mouth on him

stop it anon, bc you’re making me sweattttt 😮‍💨

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

He’d show you around his room, stuttering proudly about his streaming setup, completely unaware of your bored expression and you couldn’t quite find it in you to just be nice to him and let him ramble about his silly cameras and PC.

“Have you ever been blown, Kurt?” You hummed, stopping him in his tracks, watching with a sigh when his brows furrowed.

“I don’t— b-blown?” He stuttered, cheeks warming with a soft hue of pink, hand scratching at the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t stop your mouth from salivating at the thought of being on your knees for this pathetic excuse of a man.

“Let me say it nice ‘n’ slow, so you understand,” you cooed mockingly, stepping closer towards him, face impossibly close to his. “Has anyone sucked your cock?”

He gasped, breath hitching in his throat and choking on his words, his once soft blush turning deep and dark, trailing from his cheeks to his neck and chest— entirely flustered.

“I- no,” he breathed.

“Would you like to find out what it feels like?” You trailed a finger down his chest, stopping at the elastic of his sweatpants, curling your knuckle under it before snapping it back into place. “Cause it feels real good, Kurtie.”

Kurt’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, gawping at you before nodding shakily.

“Gotta say it out loud,” you spoke, cocking an eyebrow at him before he uttered out his response, a short “yes, please,” and a surge of warmth bloomed throughout your chest at being the first person to do something so intimate to him.

So, with a firm hand, you pushed at his chest, letting him slump clumsily into his gaming chair, the wheels creaking at the weight of him.

You got to your knees, shuffling closer, your palms rubbing at his thighs and you tried to stifle your smile when you caught sight of his bulge, already rock hard— it was bigger than you expected, much, much bigger, and you wondered what it’d look like when it wasn’t underneath a few layers of fabric.

It wasn’t long before you had his sweatpants pooled around his ankles, his boxers too, and his cock stood to attention, throbbing hotly whenever you merely looked at it, little pearlescent strings of pre-cum oozing from his tip and dripping onto the pudge of his stomach.

“You’re so big, Kurtie,” you cooed, wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling it pulse at your touch, his skin so soft and smooth, and you fluttered your lashes up at him when you pressed a kiss to his tip.

“Oh my go— that feels— OH, wow,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut, gasping and bucking when you swirled your tongue around his tip, flicking into his slit and swallowing his pre down. “Might— could last a while, might wanna get yourself comfy- Oh!”

You smirked around his length, rolling your eyes at his act of coolness, quickly bobbing your head up and down, up and down, taking his thickness right down to the base and swallowing around it, the crude sounds filling his stuffy room.

Kurt fisted your hair mindlessly, babbling nonsense with each time his cock passed the seam of your lips, and he bucked into your throat, chest heaving, completely under the influence of your wicked mouth.

“‘V got all the time in the world,” you said after taking a breather, stroking him in your fist and watching his face contort into something different, something almost pained.

And as soon as you took him back down your throat, one last swallow, one last inward thrust— it had been 2 minutes tops— his stomach muscles contracted, thighs tensing, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his tip, choking on his breaths as you swallowed it all, giggling around him at how pathetic he was, how little time he had lasted.

#kurt kunkle blurb #kurt kunkle smut #kurt kunkle imagine #kurt kunkle x reader #joe keery x reader #joe keery smut #joe keery blurb

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justasimp1 · 2 years

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Kurt Kunkle x F! Reader

Fluff, Short-ramble

Cropped

You rolled around in your bed, groaning from boredom. You picked up your phone, quickly dialing your boyfriend. "Hello Y/N" Kurt muttered. You could hear a faint hum of a car engine. "I'm sorry, are you streaming?" "Yeah but I'll always have time for you" Kurt laughed.

"I'm bored, can you stop by my house for a second" You huffed, signing into his stream. Kurt looked concentrated on driving to his next destination. "I cant, sorry babe. I have to complete #TheLesson" Kurt muttered.

His views were gradually growing. The chat speed picking up. You groaned, pushing your head into your pillow to pout louder. "So much for you'll always have time for me" You grumbled.

Kurt's hands tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes narrowing at the cameras, almost as if he could see you flipping him off. "Please don't be mad because if youre mad I won't be focused and if I'm not focused I won't be able to complete the #Lesson"

Kurt rambled on, his hand guesturing to his frustration. "Whatever- talk to you later Kurt" You held a thumb over the red button. "Y/N!" Kurt whined, his knuckles turning white from his grasp on the wheel.

"I've been planning this for a long time please don't ruin it" Kurt put his head on the wheel. "Who cares about the stupid fucking Lesson" You flipped off his stream again.

"You said you liked it..." "Yeah because I'm supportive, I didn't understand what the hell you were saying anyways" "You know what...fuck you Y/N" The curse seemed like it was forced out of his mouth. "Fuck me then" You chuckled, sending daggers through your laptop screen.

"I can't I'm busy doing the lesson!" Kurt emphasized busy and lesson. "Bye Kurt" You scoffed, letting your thumb press the red button. You tossed your phone by your pillow, eyeing Kurt's next move on stream.

He seemed less energized. You didn't want to intentionally distract him from his project. You hated whenever he had that look on his face. You quickly typed something in the chat before closing your laptop.

KurtKunkles's69: sorry. good luck with the lesson

Master list

#fanfic #x reader #fluff #kurt kunkle #kurt x reader #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt fluff #spree #spree 2020 #kurt kunkle fluff #kurt kunkle smut #kurt kunkle x reader fluff

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pasukiyo · 2 years

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If you still do requests I would like a smut one with Kurt! One where Kurt and the reader get touchy with each other and all riled up while Kurt is driving a passenger. And as soon as he drops the person off, he fucks the reader in his car

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲.

— kurt kunkle x f!reader

warnings; unprotected sex, degradation, reckless driving lol, slapping, kurt kunkle

a/n; FINALLY my first kurt fic! the chokehold he has on me— sorry it took so long to get to your request, i’m just now finally starting to get back into the groove of writing so i hope this makes up for it!

word count; 2.4k

“kurt,” she purred, leaning over the center console, her face mere inches away from his. she watched as his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel whilst he took a left turn. “you look cute in a bucket hat. you should wear one more often.”

kurt didn’t dare look her way, instead choosing to glance at the camera attached to his window, cocking an eyebrow at the flood of comments coming through. he glanced back down to his gps, glimpsing at the passenger in the back seat through the rear view mirror. “got plans tonight?” kurt ignored her to ask the man in the backseat, and she slumped down in her seat, narrowing her eyes over at her boyfriend as the man behind her replied.

she couldn’t have cared any less.

“where’d you get this shirt?” she questioned, pinching the sleeves of his long sleeve. “i’ve never seen it before. you look sexy,” she purred, giving his bicep a squeeze. kurt swallowed again, once again glancing over to the comments of his live stream.

“i have cameras set up, by the way,” kurt blurted, looking over his shoulder at the passenger and gesturing to the cameras. the man nodded, “i noticed.”

“yeah. it’s for safety. yours and mine.”

“right. cool. got it.”

she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she spared a glimpse over to the gps. five more minutes left until she and kurt would finally be alone.

“kurt,” she purred again. “i missed you, didn’t you miss me?“ she watched his jaw tense, the corner of her lip tugging up into a smirk. “couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. were you thinking about me too, kurt?”

“stop it,” he murmured beneath his breath in warning, sparing a brief glance. she pursed her lips, “stop what, huh?” she eyed the way his jaw tensed and the ball in his throat bobbed when he swallowed yet again, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “is everything alright, kurtie? you look a little… tense.”

“stop it,” he warned again, murky brown irises narrowing in warning. she squirmed in her seat beneath his gaze before he tore it away, glimpsing at the camera beside his head. “what’s wrong, kurt? do i make you nervous?”

kurt furrowed his brows and glared back over to her, slamming on the brake just before the stop sign. the passenger in the back surged forward, thrusting his head into the back of her head rest.

“what the fuck!” the man shouted, and she cocked an eyebrow, turning to face the stranger in the backseat. “fuck this. last time i use this goddamn spree app,” he grumbled, tugging at the door handle. “hey, let me the fuck outta here!”

kurt pursed his lips together as his fingers fumbled to unlock the car, jaw clenched, eyes dark— he looked nefarious. the man pushed his way out of the car before slamming it, trudging his way onto the sidewalk to walk the remainder of the way to his destination, but not without making a show of giving kurt his one star review.

she blinked.

kurt only sighed as he put the car back into drive and slammed his foot down onto the pedal, making the car lurch forward, nearly hitting another car in the intersection. “kurt,” she tried to stifle her snickering. “are you mad at me?”

silence.

“aww, kurt, i didn’t mean to scare your passenger away,” she pouted, leaning back over the center console to drape an arm around his, batting her eyelashes up at him. “you know that, right?”

silence.

she clenched her jaw— she hated being ignored, and he knew it. she tugged at his bicep, her fingers trailing down his arm until they met his as they rested on the gear shift, caressing the back of his soft hand. “kurt, are you actually—“

“god, will you just shut the fuck up for once?”

oh. so he really was mad.

her body tensed at the realization and she cowered away from him, nestling herself back into her seat as kurt approached a stoplight, not even caring to stop for the red light. she gasped as they sped through the intersection, just barely avoiding an accident and she twisted in her seat to glimpse back at the honking car behind them, watching it slowly grow smaller and smaller in the distance. “fuck, kurt, you can’t do shit like that!” she scolded, sliding back down into her seat and narrowing her eyes over at him. she eyed the way a shadow casted over his face when he turned, his gaze darker and mischievous as ever.

“i’m sorry, did i scare you?” he mocked. “are you mad at me?”

she crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her position in her seat, and suddenly, she felt smaller than ever, heat pooling at her cheeks and engulfing her into flame. “i got a one star review because of you,” he continued. “because you can’t stand not having your stupid pussy filled for two seconds.”

she felt herself shrivel further into her seat, and she suddenly had a fascination with the passing lights outside her window. the moon in the sky snickered down at her, its lips curled up into a crescent as kurt swerved the car to the right, driving them further into the trees, deeper into the night. “where are we going?” she managed to ask, although she winced at how pathetic and weak her voice sounded.

kurt rolled his eyes, “what? you came here to be a whore, didn’t you?” the lump in her throat bobbed when she swallowed, and she snapped her head towards him as the car came to an abrupt stop. he fumbled around for the remote to the lights in his car, the purple morphing into a deep red.

what a tease.

“i’m just giving you what you wanted,” kurt murmured softly, reaching out to caress her cheek, the pad of his thumb soothing over the high of her cheekbone. she blinked, but found herself leaning into his touch, her lips quivering when his skin ran over them. the tenderness was all but fleeting, however, for in the next moment, he gripped her chin, his fingernails burrowing into her cheek as he tugged her face forward, his hot breath fanning over her skin. “to be fucked like a whore, in front of everyone.”

she watched as kurt turned towards the camera in his windshield, flashing his signature cheeky grin as he held out a peace sign with his free hand. she furrowed her brows as she desperately tried to catch a glimpse at the camera, mortified by the way the idea of being watched by who knows how many people only added fuel to the fire of her arousal. “don’t forget to hashtag the lesson,” kurt announced to the camera before his attention was back on her, his gaze suddenly dark again. “now get your ass in the backseat and strip.”

he ripped his hand away from her face, smirking at the tears that had since brimmed her eyes, mocking his pity. “poor baby, did that hurt?” he pouted. “we’ve hardly scratched the surface, are you sure you’re gonna be able to take it?” she’d never ever felt so pathetic as she frantically nodded, turning to grip onto the back of her seat, crawling into the backseat as he watched. she flipped back over to face him, suddenly aware of just how many cameras kurt had set up in his car— and she hated the way she could feel her clit throb between her legs.

“go on, give us a show,” kurt’s lips curved into a mocking smile as she toyed with the hem of her t-shirt. she gulped as she— slowly— pulled it up over her head, shivering when the car’s air hit her skin. her eyes locked with kurt’s when she reached behind her for the clasps of her bra, and he raised his eyebrows at her, urging her to go on. she flushed as she unhooked the clasps and guided the straps down her arms, letting the lace fall to the floorboard, glancing back up to kurt, suddenly conscious of the fact that she didn’t know just how many people were watching her expose herself on camera.

“i thought i told you to strip?” kurt tilted his head in question. “come on, don’t leave us hanging. take off the rest.”

“kurt—“ she whimpered.

“do. it.”

she squeezed her thighs together at the sound of his voice so low and raspy, no longer feeling apprehensive as long as he looked at her like that. she lifted up her hips as she tugged her pants down her legs, her panties soon joining the mess of clothes on the floor of his car. the corner of kurt’s lips tugged up into a smirk as he climbed his way to the back, his palm soothing just above her clit, his irises searing her skin with heat. “look at you. so wet for me, huh?” he cooed, his middle and forefinger teasing up and down her slit, coating his digits with her slick. “such a slut, got all wet for the camera and everything.”

her teeth sunk into the flesh of her bottom lip and her eyelids fluttered closed at his touch, already feeling lightheaded. soft mewls slipped past her lips as he teased at her pearl, smiling down at her pathetic state.

“stupid, filthy slut.”

smack.

her body jolted and her eyelids snapped shut at the sting on her cunt, her thighs instinctively squeezing his hand where it gripped her mound. with his other hand, he pried her legs back apart, his palm slapping back down onto her pussy, leaving a bittersweet ache in its wake. “you’re like a damn dog in heat, so horny that you couldn’t even wait five minutes for me to drop off a passenger,” he sucked air between his teeth with a tsk as he gave her cunt a couple of more swift smacks. “such a dirty, little whore.”

he hadn’t given her so much as a warning before he buried two fingers into her sex, and she moaned as she throbbed around his digits, writhing as she adjusted to the size. kurt couldn’t bring himself to be patient, not when she looked this damn good and filthy. his pace was brutal, his fingers already curling and daring her to reach her end with each thrust. she couldn’t even bring herself to care anymore that so many people were watching when his fingers felt this good.

her fingers clasped around his wrist as her toes curled and her back arched, her lips falling agape to allow her sounds to permeate the car. “oh, kurt!” she cried when he hit that spot deep inside of her. “fuck, fuck, fuck! i wanna come, please let me come.”

kurt pursed his lips together and grunted as he slammed his fingers harder and faster into her, cradling the back of her head with his opposite hand and pulling her forehead against his. “do it, bitch. come all over my fingers.”

and she lost it.

she gushed around his digits, but still, kurt didn’t stop. and he wouldn’t until he was sure he had milked her dry, until she was a panting, writhing, crying little mess.

finally, he pulled his fingers away and he watched as she clenched around nothing, whimpering at the feeling of no longer being full. kurt brought his fingers up to his mouth, letting just a drop of her nectar onto his tongue with a hum. his eyes found hers through the cloudiness of her orgasm as he licked his fingers dry, his opposite hand giving her pussy a few gentle taps. “so pretty for me,” he purred as he tugged down both the waistband of his sweats and boxers just far enough for his cock to spring free of its restraints, and she whimpered again as he gave it a few tugs. he tilted his head, “what? don’t you want to be fucked like a slut? isn’t that what you wanted?”

her bottom lip jut out into a pout, “m’— m’ tired,” she whined as she felt the tip of his cock prod at her entrance, and despite her words, she felt her clit ache with lust, her cunt clenching around nothing in anticipation. “yeah? you’re tired?” kurt cooed as he cradled the back of her head again, giving her lips a soft, chaste kiss. she nodded against his forehead, humming against his lips.

once again, the tender moment was fleeting.

“i don’t care,” kurt growled as he snapped his hips forward, filling her up all at once. she felt like her eyes would pop out of their sockets at any given moment, her nails burrowing into the fabric of his long sleeve, her head falling back onto the seat behind her. “kurt!” she squealed as he pulled back out only to slam back in again, tears sliding down her cheeks when he bottomed out. “you’re going to take what i give you, you hear me?” he husked as he set his pace, animalistic, almost inhumane.

he fucked her until her mind became mush, until all she could bring herself to think or to say was “oh, kurt,” until his name practically came out with every breath she took. kurt kunkle may have seemed awkward and strange to most— and he was— but only she ever got to see this side of him, his secret, dirty, dominant side.

well, she and all the other thousands of people watching.

“shit,” kurt whimpered as his thrusts became sloppier, feeling her clench and gush around his cock once again. he was close— dangerously close— and they both could feel it. she clenched around him again to give him that final push, and he was done for.

he spilled inside of her aching, throbbing cunt, painting her walls white as he fell on top of her, both trying to chase air back into their lungs. she clawed at the white fabric of his shirt as he pulled out, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. her chest heaved as she breathed, and she gazed over to one of the many cameras he had set up in the car, her fingers weaving through the mangled mess of umber tresses atop of his head.

“kurt?”

“hm?”

“just how many people are watching your stream right now?”

she could feel kurt’s smile against her neck.

“don’t even worry about it.”

#spree #spree fanfic #spree film #spree smut #spree x reader #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle imagine #kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x you #kurt kunkle smut #joe keery #steve harrington #stranger things

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soulmatecashton · 2 years

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haven’t stopped thinking about this picture since i’ve seen it

#those jeans are so good to him #wow #you know steve is PACKING bro #love ONE man #joe keery #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things 4 #djo #kurt knuckle

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months

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Bed of Roses (steddie love month, day 17)

For @steddielovemonth, Day 17 prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost (@yournowheregirl ) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: prostitution, unwanted kink/abuse/pet-names (NOT between Steddie) alcoholism, substance abuse. Tags: rockstar Eddie, rent-boy Steve, make-up fic, angst, shameless perversion of Bon Jovi lyrics. WC: 2,000.

...

“'Cause a bottle of vodka's still lodged in my head…”

In his dressing room, pre-show, Eddie grasped his second bottle of vodka in an unsteady hand.

“…and some blonde gave me nightmares; I think that she’s still in my bed.”

This was NOT GOOD. Eddie had gotten sap-fest Bon Jovi lyrics slithering around his brain. He couldn’t for the life of him remember his own lyrics.

“Hey, Amigo,” he announced to the vodka. “I got a venue of ten thousand to entertain, and you’re literally my Obi-Wan—my only hope.” He caressed the bottle’s label. “80% proof, huh, Baby?”

I’m serious, Eddie, you’ve had enough. You WANT to follow Kurt Cobain into the 27-Club?

Riiiight. That was not a Bon Jovi lyric. That sounded more like Steve Harrington, in sensible-parent mode, hands planted on his slender hips.

The tears struck fast. Eddie clonked the bottle onto the dressing table then followed it, pressing his heavy head to the glass.

He seriously didn’t want to die. However, he was so through with this life. Of any life, without Steve. The cavity where his heart once lay veered between grating emptiness and an unbearable pain.

His fingers twitched toward the bottle. Screw it, the show must go on, and he’d lost his only light in the darkness…

“… as I dream about movies, they won't make of me when I'm dead.”

That still wasn’t one of his own darn lyrics. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single goddamn word of any of Corroded Coffin’s songs.

A sharp knock on the dressing-room door had him squealing like a little piggy. An old guy poked his head in.

“Who the hell are you?”

“You hired me, Mr Munson. Dirk Gordon—Private Dick?”

“Ah… Yeah, so I did.” Eddie’s rotten heart hammered way too fast. “Have you..?"

“Yes, Mr Munson. I believe I’ve found him.”

…

“What do you mean, you're not gonna pay me?” Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. The only heating in his boss’s rundown office came from the guy’s endless chain of cigarettes. “I spent the whole evening simpering at that old dragon. You told me she liked music—I talked music endlessly.”

“You yammered on about some death-metal garbage. She likes Wagner.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “What’s Wagner? That crusty old film-star?”

“Oh, Steve, Steve, Steve. What am I gonna do with you?” His boss sauntered around the desk and hooked an arm around him.

Jesus, you stink.

“You’re good-looking, kid, you’re charming, but you simply can’t cut it with that kind of high-end client.”

“She seemed happy.” Steve shrugged his shoulders, failing to shake the guy off him. “She paid you, right?”

“Not the full whack, and you got a fancy meal out of the bitch. Look, I’ll give you your cut, if you do better tonight.”

He squeezed the back of Steve’s neck. Steve tried not to shudder. When his boss produced a piece of paper and wedged it down the back of Steve’s skin-tight jeans, he stopped trying to hide his revulsion.

“Details are all there. He’s a banking exec, early forties—no more dinners and dances with Doris, you’re spending the night at his house.”

A dry lump clogged Steve’s throat. “Is he gonna want..?”

“Sex? Christ on a bike, what trade do you think you’re in?” He squeezed Steve’s butt.

“Jesus fu—” Steve bit his lip, fixed on his damp sneakers.

“Believe me, Steve, your hair ain’t your best asset. You’re gonna have to sell that plump lil’ ass for real, sooner or later.”

Steve flinched, then schooled his features as blankly as he could.

“This guy’s got a few kinks, but as Johns go, he’s a pussycat.” He lifted Steve’s drooping chin with his knuckles. “Show him what ya got, Sport.”

Steve couldn’t get out into the drab morning fast enough. He retrieved the paper from his underwear, shoved it in a pocket unread, then stumbled, zombie-like, into a diner. “Black coffee, please? It’s an emergency.”

The waitress smiled. “You want breakfast, Steve?”

He shook his head, though his stomach grumbled.

He ended up slumped on the table, his face pillowed in his arms. Christ, ‘male escort’ had never seemed like a great idea, but he’d figured the pay would beat waiting tables. So how come he was still behind on his rent, and that he still couldn’t afford to eat some days, let alone buy his pain meds?

He muffled a miserable laugh in his elbow. He genuinely wished he could afford to get smashed, get high, because nothing could fill that gaping black hole of pain. Even worse, one of his fave Bon Jovi songs was playing on the radio, and SO not helping:

“Tonight I won't be alone, but you know that don't mean I'm not lonely.” Shit! He was fighting back dumbass tears already. “I got nothing to prove, for it’s you I’d die to defend.”

Why the hell did he run away? He can’t recall any reason that mattered anymore. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he mumbled. “I miss you so much.”

Somebody touched his elbow, and he jolted up. “Sorry, hon,’” said the waitress, “we need this table for dine-in customers.”

“Right.” Steve swiped any tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones. “I’ll clear outta your way.”

...

“Ready for playtime, Bunny Rabbit?”

Steve’s skin crawled, and his face burned. He’d gotten his head in the client’s lap, and the guy was playing with his hair. It would be tolerable, he guessed, if he’d not so often laid in Eddie’s lap like this, and… Christ, Eddie! Steve shut out the unwanted touching and began to drift. He was so beyond tired. And that song from the diner crept back:

“Now as you close your eyes, know I'll be thinking about you. While my mistress—she calls me to stand in her spotlight again…”

The pinch on his cheek startled Steve back to the present. “You kipping there, Bunny Rabbit?”

“Uh… er, sorry, Daddy.” Uuuuuuurgh! “Whatever you want, Daddy.” He dared sit up. “I’ll grab a condom and, uh… stuff.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” When Steve went to rise, his arm was grabbed, and he was held in place. “I don’t like rubbers, Cutie.”

“You heard of this thing called AIDS?” Dipshit!

Steve wrenched his arm free. The guy raised his hand and slapped him. Which wasn’t exactly out-of-the-blue, because face-slapping had been listed among this repellent son-of-a-bitch’s kinks.

“I’m paying top whack for you.” He leaned over Steve, suddenly kinda huge and scary, not least because Steve now saw double. “Your pimp said you were clean, so I’m gonna have you any way I like.”

“I… uh…” Steve kicked the bastard’s shin and shoved him hard. “Go to hell, asshole.”

He fled out into the night, still dizzy from the blow. He pulled his mesh vest back on over his head. The icy wind bit, and he realised he’d left his only jacket behind.

“Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST!” He kicked a lamppost, holding back on venting the true force of his feelings. Still hurt.

He limped off up the street, fast as he could. The ache in his toes at least distracted him from the ringing in his ears. An hour later, he stumbled around the corner of his block, thinking only of throwing himself into his bed, while he still had one.

He was so close, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood suddenly on end. Through the haze of his exhaustion, he realised a car crawled up the gutter behind him.

Had Mr Happy-Slappy-Sleazebag come after him? Then again, Steve’s pursuer could be anybody. After all, he was walking through a red-light district, shivering his ass off. Dressed like the whore I am. Hahaha!

The car pulled up right beside him. A blacked-out window rolled down.

Steve ran, turning sharp up a dark alley, then… Shit, shit, SHIT AGAIN! He was only a hundred yards from his digs, and yet he was so messed-up that he’d sprinted up a dead-end.

He nearly kicked the bricks. Instead, he punched them, as if that would blast through the solid wall. He turned about, bit his grazed fist, and sank slowly onto his haunches.

Two figures approached up the alley, silhouetted against the lights of the street behind. Get up, Harrington! GET UP! His legs wouldn’t obey, and his breaths came only as rapid gasps. Nothing felt real anymore. Am I gonna die..? I’m gonna die!

A hand stretched out of the gloom.

Steve stared at it—at the familiar chunky silver rings, which couldn’t be real. He glanced up, and… wtf? It was Eddie, apart from it wasn’t Eddie. This dude looked more like Eddie’s ghost. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed.

Maybe I scored some Benzos after all, and totally ODd.

“Stevie?”

No mistaking that voice. If this was a trip, it was a good one. Steve pried an eye open, and Eddie’s hand was still there. Steve took it, let it help him to his feet, because… Why not? Suddenly, they were in each other’s arms, clasping each other tightly. This is real. You’re real! Eddie reeked of booze, and also of something devastatingly comforting and familiar. Somebody’s wretched sobs shook through them both.

“I’m s-sorry.” Steve sounded broken. “I-I honestly don't know why I left anymore. I was such an idiot.”

“No. I was the idiot. I’m sorry, too. So very fucking sorry.” Eddie sniffed hard, lifted his tear stained cheek from Steve’s shoulder. “I’ve not been doing so good without you.”

Steve blinked the moisture from his vision. He wondered if he looked as wrecked as Eddie—red-eyed and waxy pale, under the distant glimmer of the streetlamps. Probably. If he hadn't leaned against Eddie, his legs would’ve given out again.

He laughed, without knowing why. Eddie laughed too, and it warmed Steve’s soul. “Gonna be honest, Eddie—not been doing so good without you, either.”

…

When Eddie got out of rehab, Steve waited on the steps of the clinic, hand stretched out to take his. He pulled Eddie close, and then into a sweet, lingering kiss that renewed Eddie more thoroughly than even a lengthy booze-free sleep.

“I’m never going through that again,” said Eddie, his lips still brushing against Steve’s.

Not least because I never ever want to be parted from you again, even for a fortnight.

“Yeah, but you’re dry, Eddie, and you’re alive. I’d say that’s goddamn metal of you.”

They started back to the car, hands still clasped tightly. “Not gonna take credit, Stevie. You’re what got me through.”

“You might’ve got me out of a fix, so we’re even.” Steve’s sigh rode on a wistful sadness. “I mean, I was so lost. Thinking of you was all that kept me… I dunno, alive, I guess. You know, I kept on thinking about that Bon Jovi song.”

“Uh, you know how I feel about Bon J—"

Too late. Steve burst into song: “Well, I'm so far away, each step that I take is on my way home. A king's ransom in dimes I'd give each night to see through this pay-phone—”

Eddie pressed fingers to his boyfriend’s parted lips. “As much as I hate cutting you off in your prime—two teensy-weensy issues. Firstly, I had no idea where you were, and you never called! Second, what’s wrong with my blood-and-death drenched lyrics?”

Steve took Eddie’s fingers and kissed them: “Hurt too much to think about them.”

“You know what, Sweetheart? Hurt too much to sing them, without you around. Even though none of them are actually love songs.” Eddie raised his gaze to the heavens, and looped his arms around Steve. “Go figure.”

“You sure they’re not love songs? C’mon—they’re all secretly about me, right? Only coded or something. I’ll crack it one day.”

Steve’s gently mocking smile destroyed him, in the best possible way. They tumbled into a French kiss, and he resigned himself willingly to the only thing that mattered:

“And the truth is… Baby, you’re all that I need.”

...

Thanks for reading <3 Likes, comments and reblogs always much appreciated :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on ao3).

#steddielovemonth #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve x eddie #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie x steve #steddie love month

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nerdywriter65 · 3 months

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Written for day one of the Klaine Valentines day challenge! Just a short little fluffy kinda sexy married!klaine one-shot. I'm not sure if it really matches the prompt, but it was fun to write. See you all tomorrow for another one-shot! 💜

—/—

The music was pounding in Kurt's ears, and Blaine had disappeared into the crowd to get them both another drink, leaving Kurt alone on the outskirts of the dance floor. He wasn't drunk, but rather pleasantly tipsy, and he was enjoying it.

"Hey, stranger," Blaine says loud enough to be heard over the pounding music, pressing a cold drink into Kurt's hand.

"Hey yourself," was Kurt's response, taking a sip from his drink, and wincing slightly at the burn of the alcohol on his throat, "is this one stronger?"

"Nah, you're just drunk," was Blaine's response, a sloppy grin on his face. Blaine looked absolutely stunning tonight, his hair loose and wild, and his long sleeved dress shirt rolled up past his forearms.

"I'm not drunk," Kurt argued, sipping from his drink again, "just pleasantly tipsy," Blaine laughed, stepping further into Kurt's space, close enough Kurt could feel his breath on his face. He'd assumed Blaine was going to kiss him, but instead the younger man just smiled in a way that made Kurt's heart skip a beat. He'd never understand how Blaine managed to have such power over him, they'd been married for three years now, and together for even longer, but all Blaine had to do was smile, and Kurt was done for.

"You look amazing tonight," Blaine breathed, before finally giving in, and they kissed, deep and passionate, Kurt's free hand grabbing Blaine's waist, while Blaine's wrapped around his neck, and it was wonderful.

"You smell good," Kurt murmured when they broke the kiss, and Blaine didn't reply, instead pulling away enough to take a long sip of hia drink.

"You're staring, honey," Blaine teased, and Kurt shrugged shamelessly.

"You're gorgeous, I'm pretty sure it's fair," was Kurt's casual response, and he watched Blaine's eyes light up with a praise.

Soon enough, their drinks were finished, their glasses taken away by a server, and as soon as their drinks were taken, Blaine had his arms around Kurt's waist, pulling him in close. Dancing with his husband was electric, the music pounding in their ears, and the feel of Blaine's racing heart against his own made it seem as if no one else was there, despite them both knowing perfectly well how many people were around them. At some point, dancing turned into seeing how subtly they could grope the other's ass, which turned into Blaine sucking hickies onto Kurt's neck, and eventually turned into their hips grinding against each other in search of some friction to relieve the tension.

"We should go home," Blaine panted into Kurt's ear, and hos voice sent shivers down Kurt's spine.

"Yeah?" Kurt asked, his mind buzzing with alcohol and arousal.

"Yeah," Blaine replied, and before Kurt knew it he was being pulled through the crowd and out of the club into the chilly New York air. Unfortunately, the cold was rather sobering, his mind clearing a little more than he would've liked. Blaine stepped back into his space, and he once again expected a kiss, before he watched realization wash over Blaine's face. The same realization that used to cross their faces in high school when they desperately wanted to kiss, but realized that in public, it wasn't always the smartest thing for them to do. So instead, just like he had in high school, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, as a promise of what was to come. And with that, they wordlessly walked to their apartment.

Kurt had barely gotten the door locked behind him before Blaine had him pressed against the wall, kissing deeply and messily.

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, and Kurt shivered. He loved the way his name sounded on Blaine's lips. Blaine kissed him again, and he tasted of the fruity cocktail he'd been drinking, and something else that was so distinctively Blaine that Kurt could hardly breathe.

"I love you so fucking much," Kurt murmured between kisses, breathlessly tangling his hands in Blaine's hair. Blaine pulled him impossibly closer, their chests pressed together, and Kurt could feel Blaine's heart racing.

"Love you more," Blaine replied, mouthing at Kurt's jawline.

"Bedroom?" Kurt suggested, and Blaine nodded.

Half an hour later, they lay on their sides, face to face, and wonderfully satisfied.

"We're good at that," Blaine said, reaching over and taking Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt laughed, squeezing Blaine's hand lightly.

"I'm so in love with you," Kurt murmured, and Blaine smiled warmly.

"And I'm so in love with you," he promised before kissing him deeply. Eventually, they'd pull themselves from the warmth of their bed, and shower, before pulling on some ratty pajamas, and falling asleep in each other's arms, but for now, Kurt was perfectly content to stay here, curled up in Blaine's arms.

#married!klaine #blaine anderson #kurt hummel #klaine fanfiction #klaine fluff #klaine fic #KlaineValentines2024 #padam padam

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comfy-whumpee · 7 months

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Lab Rat

Whumptober 7. Lab whump with extra dehumanisation and gore, this time!

There’s a taste in his mouth that he can’t get out.

The first experiment is simple. The muzzle is removed, and the body is fed water for the first time in days. It is helped to drink until it can drink no more, turning its head away from the feeding tube. Then, for the next twenty minutes, some mild acid forces the body to produce saliva, which is collected in test tubes on ice.

The body endures this placidly. It is cooperative with the cotton swabs placed inside its mouth. It holds still with its jaw wide, not needing to be forced. Maybe it is grateful to have been given water. Maybe it hopes, as the doctors do, that saliva will substitute blood in their treatments.

But the testing is done quickly and the results are clear. If there is power in the saliva, it is so diluted as to be useless.

And there’s a taste in his mouth that he can’t get out.

The second experiment is nails and hair. The body is unresponsive when the hair is trimmed. It looks to be sleeping, though nobody is sure whether it truly sleeps like humans do. It wakes up, as best they can tell, with no idea of what was done. But later that day, they trim its nails. The clippings are stored in another sample container and taken away for testing.

This is equally unimpressive. There was already significant doubt that such expendable parts of the body would contain anything of value. But it was proof of the previous experiment. Only things integral would be useful to gather.

And there’s a taste in his mouth that he can’t get out.

By the end of the week, Caroline has allowed another experiment, more invasive now there have been no ill effects from the others. The body still bleeds through the needle in its arm, and nothing else matters. So Caroline authorises a tissue sample.

The first one is small, just a scraping of dead skin from under their trimmed fingernails. The body barely responds to the dull shear on their fingers. The flakes are taken away in a petri dish.

Next is a slice of fresh skin. One hand is taken into a bowl of water to be thoroughly cleaned. This, unlike the rest, gets a response, tears leaking down its cheeks as if touched by the gesture. But it is done by uncaring hands, who only want to make sure the site of their sample is sterile.

Gloved hands press the knuckles flat on a rolling steel side table. Caroline does the incision herself, peeling back mere millimetres of skin with her sharpest scalpel. The blood, which cannot be wasted, is allowed to flow openly until it clots on its own. Caroline takes the sample off herself for immediate testing, while one of the acolyte doctors is responsible for soaking up every drop of blood.

Lachlan doesn’t know if the skin sample works or not. All he knows is that, the very next day, Caroline returns for more. As the body heals, and does not scar, she grows less and less worried that she will do something irreversible.

Kurt used to speak up. He is supposed to, if she risks permanent damage to the body, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s barely present anymore. He’s here because he was told to be here, and outside of working hours, he is gone.

Caroline stays. Caroline sharpens and sterilises her scalpels. She gathers her two favourite students, the brightest and most loyal. They cleanse the site of her next incision. She has chosen the thigh, and they make sure every strand of hair and speck of dirt is gone from the area she designs. No contaminants. Why stop at blood when flesh could yield better results?

The body knows it is coming already. Even as Caroline only prepares, it has clearly worked out the pattern. It keens in pain at the first touch of metal and doesn’t stop when it comes in earnest. She presses the scalpel into flesh, barely needing to push with as sharp as she has the blade. Blood wells up around it, and she cuts with confidence.

The body – Northlight – cries out through the muzzle, legs jerking and arms pulling at the restraints. The pain is audible in their voice. The tears flow from their eyes again, backwards down their face as their head is thrown back. Caroline is immune, extracting the gouged flesh and having it conveyed to be chilled and preserved for testing. One of her students is already stifling the bleeding. The other conveys the sample away.

Lachlan tries not to look at the blob of flesh on the tray, nor at the bleeding hole in Northlight’s leg. He looks at the body’s tormented expression, and tries not to listen to the whimpers low in its throat. It’s a sensible thing to do with the experiments, to build up like this. It makes sense. It’s scientific. The body was always going to respond like this. Simulating feelings. Like how trees bleed sap.

The…

Northlight cries in hopeless pain as the wound is tightly bandaged. Northlight shakes their head in plea when the doctor leaves. Northlight endures without painkillers, without even food. Northlight turns their eyes to him.

There’s a taste in Lachlan’s mouth that he can’t get out. Metallic and sour. He knows it can’t be real, but he can taste it all the same. He drinks it in his dreams and it makes him ache and shiver.

Every morning he goes to wash his face in the laboratory toilets, and he bares his teeth the mirror, to check them for sharper edges.

#whumptober2023 #lab whump #lab whumpee #fantasy whump #magical healing #vampire whump #gouging #my fic #whump #northlight #lachlan #caroline #dehumanisation #rehumanisation?#lab rat #alt.14 #gore

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

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(Sorry it wouldn’t let me switch to private posting once it was out there within a good time so ended up deleting the ask, but here it is)

(Cw: perv!Kurt, 18+)

Kurt Kunkle x reader

“Y-Yeah? You like that?”

Kurt ducked his chin into his neck, being able to further smell your hoodie, the lingering scent of you on it.

Kurt wasn’t even talking to anyone, or anything in particular. His crotch, covered by a thin layer of your red panties, the ones Kurt purposely picked from your dirty laundry basket, dark and leaking at the front where Kurt’s hard cock was straining against them. Throbbing as he slowly leaked pre, humping his own mattress, and pretending he was fucking you into it. His best friend, who he wanted to be boyfriend to so fucking badly.

“You want me?” He asked, whimpering out a moan as his hand fisted his pillow tight, falling against his bed now, his chest resting there, and slapping his hips down onto it. Thank God no one else was home, because even if Kurt’s top half had gotten lazy, he was still rutting his hips into you- into his bed, at full force. Kurt would give himself to you if you asked. You wouldn’t even have to plead.

“God. Ff- fucking love you y/n.” Maybe a part of Kurt hoped you’d come in. See how dedicated he was. How much he truly liked you. Maybe you’d think he was pathetic, and help him out. He’d take it. He’d take you. In any form he could.

Kurt sighed out whines, his knuckles strained, veins more obvious, almost like he was punching his pillows as he shifted his hips, so he could get a better look at your panties. And his cock in them. Staining them. Dirtying them forever.

Kurt was going to see how damaged they looked after. Depending hard on how many times he came into them. Kurt also always came... a lot, but he had jerked one out earlier, when he held your panties, only dirty from your wear, to his face while doing so. Surrounding himself in your smell, in your warm, soft clothes. Kurt just needed what he could grab at, you were addicting to him.

But Kurt hoped they didn’t look too dirty, only for the reason he didn’t really want to wash them before giving them back. On the other hand. Kurt could use them until he’d nearly fucked a hole through the middle. Until the underwear was only white, with speckles of red. And then he could wash them and return them. Hopefully he’ll have made more progress with you by then. Or, since that process would only take probably about three nights, including this one, Kurt could just steal another pair as a replacement for the ones he was returning as well.

Kurt took a sharp intake of breath, whine wobbling in his throat as he fucked harder, able to see the spot where the clear outline of the head of his cock was, dampening the more Kurt rut himself into his sheets. His cock, hard and picturesque in your own underwear. Right where it should be. “Ah, ahh!” Kurt sighed, his other hand gripping onto the chest of your hoodie, and bringing it back up to his nose, the soft material against his lips and chin, sensitive there. “Fuck, gonna make me cum again already.” Kurt giggled, maybe a bit of drool leaking onto your hoodie.

Kurt was throbbing so hard, it was unbelievable. And he was starting to sweat on his back but he didn’t care, as long as your hoodie smelled just like you. You’d worn it all day when hanging out with him after all. Kurt brushed up shakily between some strewn blankets, and he had to pause for a second, arms trembling, before going back to slowly humping, small forward movement thrusts that got bigger, if not staying the same pace, and Kurt knew his bed was squeaking throughout the entire place. “Shit. Wonder what you’d do if you saw me.” Kurt spoke differently this time, a smile on his face as he pictured it, imagining you perfectly, your own face. The one that was in Kurt’s thoughts every time he came for the past solid month.

He perfectly got the image of your face in his head, the exact expression he’d hope you’d wear if you walked in on him right now.

Kurt yelled out, falling into his bed, as hot cum started spurting from his cock. Lying face down on his mattress, Kurt kept lazily rutting his hips, riding his whole, long, orgasm out, with his groin just grinding into the bed, as he cried out into his pillow, feeling his thighs, and his stomach, and your panties, become so hot, and wet, because Kurt was cumming everywhere, all over himself and his bed, and your stolen underwear.

After what felt like an hour, Kurt finally stopped cumming. He spluttered unceremoniously onto his pillow, hot shaky breaths leaving him as he stayed flat, not unused to lying down in a puddle of his own cum, after a more tiring session. Even though Kurt did get tired easily, he was ever horny. And the amount of cum he stored must’ve been godly, because Kurt could keep going forever. His stamina increased the second he began his little crush on you, too. Kurt only hoped he could make you feel this good, as soon as you did want him in that way. Well- maybe you already did, but Kurt just needed you to make a move first. He was shy!

Kurt took a few moments, lips smacking as he gently rut twice more on the bed. Feeling like purring as he relished in the feeling of soothing his aftershocks. Imagining this is what his cock would feel like, rubbing against your panties he’d made wet with your own juices, before fucking you again, just as you asked.

When Kurt looked up, a small trail of drool snapped from his white fluffy pillow, and his lips. And as Kurt’s lazy eyes focused, he knew the next thing to do was putting those panties onto his pillow and using that next.

Just until he could get a taste of the real you.

#citrussy #Kurt Kunkle/reader #kurt kunkle #anon #ask #spree 2020 #Kurt Kunkle x reader #Kurt Kunkle drabble #kurt kunkle blurb

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otdiaftg · 2 months

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Kurt obviously expects the Foxes to submit without a fight, because he drops his arm and lets Nathaniel through. He should have waited a bit longer, as Nathaniel's teammates start arguing almost immediately. Dan's outraged voice carries the easiest when she snaps, "Twenty minutes? You've got to be joking. Why do—oh my god," she breaks off when Nathaniel steps into the room. The rush in her voice isn't anger or disgust, but terror-fueled relief. "Oh my god, Neil. Are you okay?"

Nathaniel opens his mouth, but words fail him. Last night he knew he'd never see any of them again. Having them back is a salve on every one of his aching wounds, but he is keenly aware he is just here for goodbye. It will kill him to walk out of here. He owes them explanations and apologies, but he doesn't know where to start. All he can do is look from one stunned face to another. There is a hollow look on Kevin's face and dark bruises on his throat. Nicky is a disconsolate mess near the window. Allison and Renee sit on the far bed with two black eyes and a couple dozen bruises between them. The spots on Allison's arm are obviously left by fingers. Nathaniel hopes Allison beat up whoever was stupid enough to grab her so hard, but maybe Renee had handled that for her. One of Renee's hands is bandaged and she wears a brace on her other wrist. Aaron sits halfway down on the same bed, and for once even he looks more upset than angry when he looks at Nathaniel. Matt and Dan are on the nearer bed. Matt has a white-knuckled grip on Dan's shoulder like he'd had to stop her from charging Browning. Matt had taken a severe beating in the riot and still has ice packs strapped to both hands. His shirt is filthy and torn in two places, and Nathaniel can see ugly bruises through the gaps. Abby stands between the beds, her first aid kit open on the blankets near Matt's right hip, but she drops the antiseptic she is holding when she see's Nathaniel. Abby's mouth moves, but Nathaniel doesn't hear a word she says. Browning said the Foxes only suffered minor injuries and that none of them had ended up in the ICU, but only seven of them are here. Wymack is out moving the bus, but that leaves one person unaccounted for. Nathaniel's blood goes cold, and he can't keep the alarm from his voice when he starts to ask, "Where's And—"

Day: Saturday, March 9th / 10th* Time: 3:38 PM EST

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

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