#no one called you c words yet y'all had the audacity to call others that

[daryhiygnkmcsaeth]

Swifties calling other people c*nt for calling out their spamming in polls tag.

Also Swifties: they're bullying us 😩

[rynhaswritersblock]

dirty talk (hc) - part two | p.p.

summary: accidentally slipping into your best friend's lap amidst sexual tension can lead to... a lot.

warnings: this is NOT a smut! BUT it does include: grinding, moaning, and... more sexual tension lmao sorryyyyyyyy

+ + +

- previously on Sexual Tension Between Y/N and Peter...

- you slipped and fell into his lap

- oOpSiEs

- a sigh fell from peter's lips as your hips met his, his eyes closing and head against the wall as he exhaled

- the sight in front of you did not help how aroused you already were by everything

- you shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to make it better

- guess what

- that did not make things better at ALL

- your hips met his again, boner now prominent against you

- you gasped

- peter gasped

- everybody in the world gasped

- but you guys...

- it was so wrong

- but it felt so right

- peter's eyes shot open when he remembered the situation

- not only were you his best-friend-turned-crush, you were literally sitting on his friggin boner

- "holy shit, y/n, i know we were just messing around but i am so sorry i didn't mean to-"

- "jesus, parker, do you ever shut up?"

- you could practically see his eyes glaze over when he got what you meant

- his hands traveled up to your hips, grabbing them firmly yet gently at the same time

- with a gentle nudge, he moved your hips on top of his, making your eyes scrunch shut and the tiniest moan fall from your lips

- which absolutely BLEW PETER'S MIND

- HOMEBOY HAD NEVER HEARD A PRETTIER NOISE IN HIS L I F E

- AND HE WAS THE CAUSE FOR IT

- ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR PETER

- WOOOOOOOOOOO

- ANYWAYS

- you quickly got tired of how little movement there was and how awkward the situation was

- so you decided you would just go for it

- and oh boy

- TALK ABOUT A STRESS RELIEVER

- you began to circle your hips on peter, a groan eliciting from his mouth that only encouraged you

- his hands guided your hips as you began to move faster and harder, grinding against him

- words could not describe the euphoria you two were in

- he rested his head in the crook of your neck, heavy breaths against your skin

- he tightened his grip on your waist and moved his hips to meet yours

- you could feel his bulge against your core and could not hold it in

- a full on moan flew out of your lips

- which in turn made peter groan

- you held onto him, one hand on his shoulder and the other lacing your fingers into his chocolate curls

- you tugged on them, feeling pleasure run through you, and peter let out a whine

- can we talk about the fact that peter TOTALLY has a thing for getting his hair pulled like holy HECK dude

- the tension was finally beginning to resolve and it felt so good

- until

- u n t i l

- the front door opens

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- a surprised gasp falls from your lips when you hear aunt may call out peter's name

- you basically FLY off of peter

- like

- y e e t

- off of him

- just in time for may to open the door

- you quickly situate yourselves to look like you were doing homework

- peter's got a book in his lap and you start furiously scribbling equations in your notebook

- and you're lowkey proud of yourself for how inhumanely fast y'all adjusted to the situation

- "pete?" may peeks her head in, "oh! hey, y/n!"

- you smile innocently at her (the audacity-)

- "i just got home. do you two want some pizza?"

- peter opens his mouth but you cut him off

- "thank you so much, but i have to go soon. nice seeing you, may!" you smile (genuinely!! may parker has your heart!!!!)

- "of course, honey," she says, slightly eyeing peter before shutting the door

- you look back over at peter before clearing your throat and packing things up

- poor peter's head was SPINNING from everything that just happened in the last five minutes

- you slung your backpack over your shoulders and began to awkwardly walk towards his door

- peter finally snapped (oops) out of his head and basically flew off of his bed, running towards you to stop you from leaving

- remember me mentioning that peter was a total klutz?

- y eah

- homeboy SLIPPED and FLEW forward just as he was reaching you at the door

- his hands flew out and grabbed onto the wall ("i'm sticky!"), thankfully catching himself before he friggin smashed that beautiful face of his into the floor

- but

- the thing is

- the tHING IS

- his hands managed to land themselves right on opposite sides of your head

- you let out a laugh at pete's clumsiness

- and he laughed too, minty breath fanning over your face

- and that's when you both realized the position you were in

- he had you pressed against the door, bodies smushed together

- you guys' laughter IMMEDIATELY halted

- peter's wide eyes softened when he got an idea

- "is that a mirror in your pocket?"

- what

- the everloving

- ...

- ????????????????

- you were so confused lmao

- but, as per usual, you went with it

- "uhhhh, sure?"

- "good," peter smiled (innocently, tf), "cause i see myself in your pants."

- "you're terrible, parker."

HI THIS IS AN EPILOGUE/CONTINUATION THAT I DIDN'T REALLY WANNA PUT IN THE ACTUAL THING (don't ask me why cause even i don't know) SO UHHHHH ENJOY?????

- "what has 36 teeth and holds back the incredible hulk?"

- "what, peter?"  

- "my zipper."

- "you sure it's not holding back ant-man?"

- peter scoffs jokingly before continuing, shifting on his feet, bodies still flush together

- "i know you're busy tonight, but could you add me to your to-do list, y/n?"

- "pete."

- "hey, guess what?" he asks cheekily

- "what?"  

- "my lips are like skittles. wanna taste the rainbow?" he puckers his lips jokingly/teasingly

- "i don't know," you bring a hand to his face, covering his puckered lips, "i kinda like m&m's better."

- you raise an eyebrow at him, unfaltered face prominent

- he licks your hand, making you cringe and pull it back, wiping it on your pants

- "fine, then!" peter exclaims and you make a face, "my lips are like m&m's,"

- you let out a sigh

- "but m&m's are supposed to melt in your mouth, not in your hand."

- his smart response takes you by surprise and you gasp slightly

- peter copies your frequent mannerisms by raising a GODDAMN eyebrow

- and that's when you lose it

- you lean forward, harshly kissing him for only a brief few seconds before pulling away

- peter is dumbstruck

- like

- D U M B S T R U C K

- when he finally regains himself he clears his throat,

- "i didn't know you wanted to be a poster."

- tf??????

- "i don't..."

- "then why do i have you pinned against the wall?"

- well

- shit

- "don't let this go to your head, parker," you say, a proud smile beginning to tug at the corners of your mouth

- "i-"

- "speaking of head, do you want some?"

- ...

- .........

- .....................

- THAT'S IT

- peter shoves his mouth onto yours, tilting his head as you press back against the wall

- you quickly reciprocate

- the kiss was hot and quick, one that was long-awaited

- when you pulled away, you both panted and stared at each other, wowed by the recent events

- when you finally regained yourself, you slide out from between peter and the wall and opened the door, winking at peter before walking out

- let's just say...

- our boy petey had a lot to think about that night.

+ + +

lmao what am i doing

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: Do you know when you get a bad feeling about something? Like, as if everyone is trying to tell you *not* to do something? Ah, whatever.

Words: 2300

Warnings: Handmaid AU, dystopia

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello! As always, this is chapter 4 of my Handmaid's Tale AU! If you still have no idea what I'm talking about, I highly recommend just reading the Sparknotes synopsis or the Wikipedia page for the book. It might make things more clear.

Sorry that I'm so terrible with updating. I want to get back to one chap/week, as I had done previously. Hopefully I'll get there!

Your feedback is so special and important to me! Thank you so much! I love y'all!!

Of course, you’d been expecting some discomfort. It was only natural that after going such an extended period of time with no sex, no nothing, that you’d feel a bit sore the day after.

But you hadn’t been expecting a near-crippling ache, emanating from your core down your thighs, as if your Commander’s cock had injected paralyzing venom into your bloodstream when he’d came. Every step was a reminder of the night before, and every step made your brow furrow, your teeth worry your lip. As if you needed more factors complicating your situation, desire simmered, unwavering in the face of wisdom and reason and fear; in the wake of your confusion, your lust persisted like an eager whisper.

He’d been huge. And he’d felt incredible.

You hobbled to the kitchen, ignoring the clamoring inside of your body that, unshackled from reality, demanded you lie in his bed again, demanded you take his cock again and again and again, demanded that he pound into you and groan and spill himself, until you were full, dripping with his cum. Stupid brain. Stupid vagina.

“Market day today,” you said, startling the other Martha--what had her name been again? Rose. She met your gaze with tiny, dark eyes, hidden deep in her pinched face. You couldn’t tell if she was terrified or furious. “Sorry.”

Rose huffed. “I’ll need milk, bread, and sugar. Do you think you can handle that, today?”

“Um, yes,” you replied. “I don’t think it’ll be too complex.”

“Then get going.”

You blinked and nodded, turning down toward the front door. “Okay…” Wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit nicer.

“You’re not doing a good job of hiding your limp, by the way,” she called after you. Your face burned, and you grumbled, pushing forward.

Through the wooden halls of the home, you steadied your waddle, hoping to appear more thoughtful and pensive than anxious and pained. You managed to make it out of the house and down the driveway without further incident, your head swiveling for any sign of the Commander as you passed his car. Your scan was borne both of fear and anticipation. To meet his eyes again would make you a mosquito to a flame. Not just a flame. A massive column of fire.

But he was nowhere in sight, to your possible relief and almost definite benefit. Perhaps you’d get through this day without making a complete fool-

“Little bird.” His voice cut you like a scythe, slicing the tendons in your knees. You were thankful that your dress managed to obscure your wobble.

Stiff-necked, you turned toward his voice, keeping your eyes locked to the grass at your feet. “C-Commander.”

“A proper greeting.” He stepped forward, and you hands fumbled at your sides, looking for an occupation other than sweating profusely. “Your gait seems odd. Why might that be?”

You were disintegrating in the wake of his audacity. Clearing your throat, you peeked to your right and left, convinced that any second, Johana would find you under her husband’s spell. “Not sure, sir,” you managed to choke out. “I believe I just slept, um, weird.”

He sniffed in amusement, growing closer. You cursed your stupid mosquito brain. “That’s unfortunate,” he said, and paused. “I can rectify that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Poor sleep.” Ren’s voice dipped lower. “There’s an effective cure, you know.”

You wondered if there was a difference between the color of your dress and your face. “Um…” Was he testing you? You wanted to rebuke him, but the throbbing between your legs was tugging you a different direction. “What cure might that be, sir?”

He snickered--a dark, delicous sound. “Oh, little bird.” His fingers caught your chin, angling you in the line of his gaze. “You’re naughtier than I thought.”

Breath leaked like slow fog from between your lips, your muscles snapping with the desire to grab him by the shoulders and drag him into a hot, rough kiss. You hated this. Hated that he held your life in his enormous, strong hands, hated that he toyed with it in public like a careless child, hated that your job was to bear his child, hated that above all, you wanted him, and despite every hour of internal chastisement, you could not silence the beast in your blood, could not muzzle the monster that sought to destroy you and him in a violent collision of repressed lust.

You should not, could not want. And yet--

“Am I, Commander?” The words hung like hidden honey from your lips.

Ren growled, jerking you against his body, his massive frame bending so his breath brushed your ear. “Yes,” he purred. “You are.”

You drank in every second of pleasure like the brainless insect you were. “Oh…”

“I can’t stop thinking about fucking your tight little pussy.” He sucked in breath through his teeth, pressing into you, his other hand snaking around your waist. “I need to be inside of you.”

Heat liquified your insides, and you nearly wilted, kept standing by sheer willpower. “Shit…”

“Oh,” he said, “she can curse…”

Underneath your dress, your body had become sweat incarnate, your skin having replaced itself with layers of eager perspiration. You imagined stripping there, in the driveway, imagined his hands on your breasts, his mouth on your cunt, your lips on his cock--everything forbidden flooding your mind like a river from a burst dam. But the water boiled, burned and ate you away, turned you to a writhing mass of instinct and need.

“Commander, not here,” you whimpered, as if here was different from there, as if there existed a place where his words weren’t illegal, where your body was something greater than its parts. “If you… If I…”

“Little bird…” Those soft, pink lips ghosted your ear, and you shivered, clenching. “Let me fill you with my cum, tonight…” His tongue, wet and warm, grazed your skin.

“Oh, fuck…”

A squeak of a hinge, and Ren released you, drawing back his claws and spinning on his heel to his car. Your heart flipped, your eyes scanning the front of the house in terror--but it was empty. Relief left you in a long exhale while you sought his gaze, searching for, for some reason, some camaraderie. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, adjusting his tie as he strode to the driver’s door.

“I’m late,” he said, as if he hadn’t just spent the past however-many minutes making you wet. “Be good.”

You swallowed, statue-still while he got into his car, cranked the engine, and backed out, peeling off onto the road without a spared moment of further acknowledgement. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, trapped by the tattered ribbons of his seduction, waiting for it to leave you like poison. How stupid were you, exactly? If you’d been caught--by Emma, by Rose, by Johana, hell, by anyone, your life was forfeit. Was it worth it? Were the whims of your cunt worth your life? You wanted to slap yourself. You wanted him to slap you, even--but that made you clench, too. Dammit!

“Uhm--”

You yelped, whirling on this new voice, clamping your hands over your mouth when you saw it was only your walking partner. That’s not suspicious.  Her skin was dark, her lips full, her locks growing in tight waves at her hairline before being swallowed by white fabric. And she was looking at you with a strange mixture of confusion and fear.

“Blessed be the fruit,” you offered, smoothing the front of your skirts.

“May the Lord open,” she replied. “You--you’re Ofkylo, right?”

Nodding, you shuffled forward. “Yes,” you said. “I am.”

“Ofarmitage.” The look on her face hadn’t changed.

Chewing your cheek, you glanced at the ground, following her lead as you began to move toward the markets. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long. You were wincing from the walk already. “So,” you said. “How long… had you been standing there?”

“You should really stay away from him.” Her voice was low and severe.

You gagged on your own spit. “W-what?”

“Your Commander,” she said. “Stay away.”

“Uh…”

“Look,” she said, barely a whisper. “I get it.” You weren’t sure what that meant. She got it? She got what? “Do what you want. But if you aren’t more careful, you will end up like the others.”

Blood fled your face. A robin leapt into the sky in front of you. “The others…”

“You know you’re not the first Ofkylo, right?”

You shook your head, trying to regain your bearings. Conversation like this was almost as illegal as what you’d been doing with the Commander. Well. Was there almost when it came to illegality? “Yes,” you replied. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“Okay,” she said. “Then you can probably figure out what happened to the other ones.” You couldn’t see beyond the shield of your wings, but you heard her voice grow closer, like she’d turned her head. “He’s reckless.”

“Reckless,” you repeated, like it would help burn it into your skull.

“Reckless.” She was distant again. “He doesn’t care about you, or his wife, or anyone. So do yourself a favor and watch out for you.”

You nodded. Maybe you could pump her for more information. “Do you know what--”

“Shh,” she chided. “Checkpoint coming up. Don’t mention this again.”

You didn’t.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence, with Ofarmitage offering not even a friendly comment about the weather before you arrived back at your Commander’s home. Your limp had worn with the passage of time--or perhaps you’d just grown numb to the pain--but even still, you straightened your back while you made your way into your home, groceries in tow.

Your brain was still, unfortunately, busy with the Commander’s words, each of them a pest in their own right, swarming your rationality with their desire-drunk bellies. As you dropped the groceries off with Rose, you wiped your palms on the front of your dress, pulling your lips in between your teeth.

“Here you go,” you said, gesturing to the table. “Everything you asked for.”

Rose cocked her head and advanced, rifling through your spoils, nose scrunched as she counted off her requests. “Milk. Bread. Sugar.” She frowned, her beady gaze nailing you to the floor. “Where’s the butter?”

You blinked, flustered. “Um, you didn’t request any butter.”

She snorted. “Yes, I did.”

“I--I’m fairly certain you didn’t.”

“Ms. Johana requested butter,” she hissed under her breath. “Therefore, I also requested butter. Did you just forget?”

“No, I didn’t--” You stopped, examining her. Her gaunt cheeks were ruddy, her thin lips pinched. “You didn’t--”

“Rose.” It was Johana, sweeping into the kitchen and pulling on a pair of white gloves. Her hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid. “One of the Wives has taken ill. I’m departing to see her.” Her eyes flitted to you. “Did this one remember all of the groceries?”

“No, Ms. Johana,” Rose replied. Her tone was the vocal personification of lying prostrate at Johana’s feet. “Unfortunately, she forgot the butter.”

Johana wrinkled her forehead. “I wanted butter for the Commander’s dinner tonight.” Her gaze snapped to Rose. “If he has to eat alone, he should at least have butter, Rose.”

“I know, Ms. Johana.” Rose’s eyes had locked themselves to the floor.

Now Johana speared you with her stare. “And you forgot it?”

Your mouth was drier than salt. “I…” You glanced between Rose and Johana, wanting to pin the blame on Rose--after all, she’d forgotten to tell you. But the knowledge it’d only further sour your relationship with her and make you appear like a rat stilled your tongue. Rose had something to lose with Johana. You didn’t. She already hated you. “I did. I’m sorry.”

Her nostrils flared, and she shook her head. For a moment, you swore her eyes had glossed with tears. “Useless.” A muscle in her jaw tensed. “Fine. I suppose he won’t need butter with his meal, tonight. Rose, you can let him know who the responsibility falls to.”

Rose nodded. “Yes, yes ma’am.”

“Good.” She sighed--and without a word, marched from the kitchen.

Her absence made your shoulders sink--and to your surprise, so did Rose’s. She said nothing, snatching the groceries from the table and bringing them over to the counters. The swarm in your brain revived itself. Johana had said she was leaving. And that the Commander would be eating alone.

“She’s… kind of rough on you guys.” You tried to sound as casual and innocently curious as possible.

Rose snorted. “No rougher than any other Wife.”

“Right,” you replied, like you implicitly understood her meaning. “Just seems tough.”

Silent, Rose shrugged, continuing to gather ingredients for dinner.

Biting your lip, you went for it. “Does she… leave frequently?”

“Depends,” Rose said. “Usually only when another Wife is sick.”

“Oh,” you said. “How long does she usually stay away?”

Rose froze, and you gulped. That had been a little too far. Like a shadow, she turned her head, staring into the wall. Her voice was soft. “If you’re going to lie with the Commander, don’t be so transparent about it.”

You went stiff. Time to leave. Grimacing, you nodded, pivoting to escape to the room.

“She’ll be gone all night.”

Her words jerked you like you’d been on a chain. She’d given you a gift. You weren’t going to push it. Holding your breath, you continued your way back upstairs.