Kingdom Hearts Kink Meme
KINGDOM HEARTS KINK MEME
Indexed at kh-kinkmeme
and on delicious here
Rules:
1. Post a pairing plus a kink.
1a. One request per comment.
1b. The only kink not allowed on this meme is anything involving underage sex. What I mean by this is if, either in the request or fic, it is made clear (either by stating a number or giving a physical description) that ( Read more... )
Indexed at kh-kinkmeme
and on delicious here
Rules:
1. Post a pairing plus a kink.
1a. One request per comment.
1b. The only kink not allowed on this meme is anything involving underage sex. What I mean by this is if, either in the request or fic, it is made clear (either by stating a number or giving a physical description) that ( Read more... )
Or maybe it's just his way of rationalizing the things he knows he's about to do.
Well, whatever. All's well that ends well.
Or so they say.
Braig pulls his cock out once he's finished with his trousers, giving it a series of halfhearted strokes with his free hand. He's still got his eyes on Terra and he can't help but smirk at how uncomfortable he looks, obvious despite any efforts to hide it; the brunet's entire body has gone ridiculously tense and he's staring at the wall behind Braig like he's trying to burn a hole in it, as if not looking is going to get him out of the little predicament he's in.
Yeah, right.
"You know, with the way you're acting you would think you were some virginal bride on her wedding night or some shit. Cute, if you're going for role play, but the blushing maiden act's a bit of a stretch, Terra, wouldn't you say?"
It's an attempt to bait the kid, to get a rise out of him--and it works.
"Just shut up," Terra bites out, glare coming back full force when his eyes meet Braig's.
The gunman chuckles; he could swear that flush on those cheeks just got a shade deeper.
"Touchy," Braig laughs, "sheesh." He palms his dick for a couple more seconds, trying to get himself at least a little bit hard--because he can already tell that it's going to be a challenge with this one.
Still, though, he's going to enjoy it. Naturally talented or not, technique is something that can be learned, and he's more than willing to give some pointers, being the good samaritan that he is.
He might close his eyes and try to imagine that there's something a little more, well, feminine standing in front of him, but--being that this is a pissed off, highly trained, and potentially dangerous warrior he's dealing with--letting his guard down like that probably wouldn't be such a great idea.
Oh, well.
So instead, Braig tries his best to enjoy the moment, making it a point to leer at the kid, if only to make him even more uncomfortable, while he continues to jerk himself off.
Terra's clearly mad, and he's clearly embarrassed. That alone is enough to get Braig's cock stiffening, the familiar pressure beginning to build at the base of his gut.
Good enough, he thinks, several moments later.
It's time to get this show on the road.
Now, how to go about this in the most degrading and humiliating way possible?
First things first.
"On your knees," he states simply, making sure to keep his tone pleasant.
Terra gives him a look that doesn't do much to hide his disgust, but Braig doesn't miss the almost miniscule widening of his eyes, the panic that flits its way across his features. He opens his mouth like something's stuck in his throat before he closes it again, and Braig waits for the refusal, smirking as he taps his gun a little harder than necessary against the side of the brunet's head.
The kid starts breathing harder and he scowls, choosing not to say anything and getting down in one swift movement, his eyes trained on Braig and the weapon in his hand the entire time. He's taller than the average chick is, though; his mouth comes level to around the middle of the gunman's stomach, making their whole position pretty... awkward, to say the least.
Braig snorts to himself, amused momentarily by the prospect of poor Terra here getting a neck cramp. Funny, maybe, but then again--it isn't going to work this way if he wants to be able to get a good angle in that mouth...
"Too tall," he comments casually, to which the younger male only continues glaring, yet otherwise chooses to ignore. "Sit back," he orders, and when Terra does so after a moment he shuffles a couple inches forwards, chuckling down at the kid when his semi-hard dick all but pokes him in the face.
"Much better," he says.
Terra huffs through his nostrils, turning his head away to the side, slightly, keeping his lips clamped shut.
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Well, that he just can't have.
"Well? What's the hold up, tough guy? Still playing the shy virgin card or are you genuinely so stupid that you don't know what I want you to do?"
"I know what you want," Terra spits, and it's a good thing that keyblade's locked up tight over there because he looks about ready to kill someone.
Braig has to chuckle at that. "Easy there, tiger, I was just asking. No need to get your panties all in a bunch."
The scowl keeps getting deeper and deeper and, regardless of his physical attributes (or lack thereof), Braig would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying pushing this kid's buttons. It's been easier than he expected--a piece of cake, really, once you know the right ones to press.
"Whenever you're ready, then" Braig says, and he raises his eyebrows for effect as he gestures towards his exposed penis. "Oh, and no funny business," he warns, wiggling his gun around for emphasis--just in case Terra's the type to try and chew his dick off in the process of giving head.
There's more silence for several seconds, and then a grimace as blue eyes flick from Braig's crotch to the barrel pressing lazily against a pulsing temple-
And then Terra's mouth is around him and it's hot and it's wet and it's sharp and it's clumsy, and Braig gives a little hiss before he says, "Damn. You need to work on your technique, kid. More lip and less teeth."
Terra hums something short and angry-sounding around the length of his cock but he obliges, squinting until his eyes are almost all the way shut. He doesn't dare to shut them entirely, though, not with a weapon held only inches away from his face. He begins to move his head back and forth halfheartedly, seemingly determined to make sure that this is the shittiest blowjob Braig will ever get.
"For fuck's sake," Braig starts, "hasn't anyone ever sucked you off before?" It feels alright, but he's going to stay half-hard into tomorrow at this point. "Suck on it, use your tongue a little. I'm sure you've watched a porno or two, at the very least."
Terra's eyes narrow some more, but he doesn't say--well, he doesn't attempt to say--anything. Braig finds himself laughing some more at how studiously he appears to be ignoring the taunts, knowing that there's only so much more this kid's going to be able to take.
Just get him to snap, like the old guy says, and I'll be golden.
And while this sure as hell isn't the best head he's ever received, it isn't such a bad gig. Awaken some of that Darkness Xehanort keeps going on about, however he sees fit.
The rewards are bound to be worthwhile.
"That's it," he says when Terra hollows his cheeks a little, probably figuring that the more effort he puts in, the sooner this misery will be over for him.
Too bad he doesn't know he won't be getting off that easily.
Braig rocks his hips to match the rhythm he's got going, allowing Terra to continue at the pace he's set for several moments longer before he snakes his free hand up so that it's knotting in a fistful of brown hair. He pushes, hearing Terra grunt, then gag when he brings himself in deeper.
"Oops," Braig breathes, half-chuckling at that.
Terra's trying to pull away now but the hand in his hair keeps him from going anywhere. His eyes shoot open and it's kind of hot, Braig notes, the way they go wide and start to tear up when he thinks he can't breathe. So he pushes his cock in farther, because this is working pretty good for him, alright.
What the fuck does he care about being considerate?
A shiver starts to build at the base of his spine when he thrusts in again, the tip of his erection grazing against the roof of a warm mouth-
But then the sucking stops, the muscles in Terra's throat contracting as his body fights to expel what's choking it, and Braig can't stop the moan that issues forth from his own mouth because of how good that feels.
"Ahh... fuck. Fuck, yeah."
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When he manages to free himself a moment later, he gasps, pulling his head away as he wipes his mouth with the back of one hand.
"Damn it," Braig says, more than a little frustrated. He takes a moment to regroup himself, keeping the gun aimed steadily as he untwines his fingers from dark hair. "And just when I thought you were getting good at following directions."
Terra's glaring at him like he wants to spit or curse or retort, but he doesn't. All he does is make this haggard sort of snarling noise and he's red in the face again like he's embarrassed--whether it's due to the fact that he just panicked like a little girl or he was choking on a penis, Braig isn't sure, but there's something about the way the kid flushes that's decidedly arousing.
He was going to have him suck him off a little longer first, but fuck it. He's hard enough now... might as well go for it before he thinks too much about the specifics of this particular keybearer's anatomy--or, rather, the parts he's missing.
Right.
He's shrugging. "Have it your way, princess," he says, and he kicks the toe of his boot against Terra's knee, tightening his grip on the gun in his hand at the same time. "Turn around."
It's sort of strange to watch how quickly someone's face can go from being filled with color to being starkly devoid of it in a span of about three seconds.
"What?" Terra says, because that was enough to make him give up on the silent treatment, alright. He's doing an okay job at staying calm but Braig can definitely see the panic-that-isn't-quite-fear-yet glow behind his eyes, can see it in the way his whole posture's suddenly set even more rigid than it was to begin with, and he's willing to bet this is a situation he's never exactly been instructed in how to deal with.
But hey. There's a first time for everything, he thinks.
"Turn around," he repeats, considerably amicably given how irritated he's beginning to get at all these interruptions. "Ass in the air. On your hands and knees."
Terra's eyes slide once to the gun aimed for his head and then back up at Braig, eyebrows creasing with what he likely perceives as the helplessness of his predicament.
Do as he's told, and he's about to be taking it up somewhere Braig's fairly certain he's never taken it before.
Don't do as he's told, and his precious Master Xehanort goes bye bye--or so this idiot here thinks.
The handle of the gun presses cool and familiar against his palm, and Braig finds himself aching to pull the trigger the longer this little standstill of theirs continues.
He can feel his dick starting to soften a bit and he grunts, trying to use the prospect of how good it's going to feel ramming into that tight virgin ass in order to sustain his erection.
Would've been a lot easier if that chick--or even the little blond kid--was kneeling here instead, but what the hell can you do?
"You know, if you don't wanna do this the easy way, then just say so. I'd be happy to blow the old man to smithereens before we go ahead and get started."
"No," the brunet says, almost automatically. He grits his teeth and makes a frustrated sound in his throat before he flips himself over, keeping his eyes trained on Braig warily for as long as he's able to.
Probably hoping for a chance to counterattack, or something.
But Braig's been trained in combat, too, and he knows better than to make it that easy for his opponent; the barrel of the gun stays aimed for the back of Terra's head even as Braig gets down on his own two knees, and the he jabs him in the hair with it--just in case the kid's forgotten that it's still aimed in his direction.
"Good boy," Braig tells him as he takes in the slightly strange sight of that obviously strong, visibly sculpted body, prone before him on all fours so... submissively.
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It could be both. Possibly.
The sight is enough to get him hardening up again, at any rate.
He positions himself behind the brunet, sliding the tip of his cock up against his entrance. Excitement surges through him at that and he places a hand against Terra's hip with his free hand, squeezing, trying to pretend that it's not taut muscle he's groping but soft, fleshy curves.
"This might hurt," he breathes.
That's enough of a warning.
He shoves in unbidden, choking a groan back as soon as he's in because fuck, that's a tight fit.
His dick is still partially slick from the saliva still on it, but by no means is pushing himself in there easy--there's a moment where Terra goes still upon the intrusion, gasping as opposed to screaming like all the breath's been stolen from him--but then he's scrambling to pull away from Braig, unable to stop himself from attempting to escape. He starts clenching around his cock so violently that Braig is rendered helpless, momentarily, feeling like he's about to cum right then and there.
"Hey," he grunts in warning, because the kid won't stop moving and Braig knows what he's about to do.
He uses the hand that's on a squirming hip to grab rapidly at Terra's hair, digging his fingers in and getting as good a grip as he can before he yanks him back by it harshly, right as Terra surges forward and Braig's dick comes sliding out.
FUCK.
He jerks the kid's head back again for that, so hard that he hears his neck crack a little. His cock is practically aching at the sudden loss of friction, and it's fair to say that Braig is beyond frustrated at this point.
"I'm really getting tired," he hisses angrily, "of you making this difficult."
He lines himself up with Terra's opening again rather impatiently, keeping his fingers twisted tight around what he's managed to grip onto of his hair.
Terra's still twisting his body, face turned towards him slightly due to the way Braig's pulling on his head. "Don't," he says in a strangled voice, eyes squeezed shut almost completely in what Braig is pretty sure must be pain--and it doesn't exactly sound like he's pleading with him, but hell. That's probably about as good as it's going to get.
Braig smirks a little at that, despite himself.
As if.
It would have been nice to slick himself back up before shoving in again, but with both of his hands occupied he doesn't exactly have the opportunity. It isn't optimal, as far as his own comfort goes--doing this with inadequate lubrication--but whatever.
A little chafing never really hurt.
Here goes.
He drives his hips forward, forcing his way past the dry, clenching heat of Terra's anus, pushing with all he has until his cock is buried firmly in there, balls deep.
Terra doesn't scream, but a stilted yelp tears its way through his throat at the invasion. His fingers grapple helplessly at the floor and Braig can see the way his eyes shoot open, can see the way his lips curl and his teeth clamp down on each other hard enough to break.
"Fuck," Braig breathes, because god damn does that feel good. He has to fight to keep the arm holding his gun steady, reminding himself not to let his knees go weak, not to let his eyes slip shut...
He brings his hips back and he thrusts his dick in again, repeating the motion until he's fucking the struggling body beneath him at a somewhat steady pace. Terra's squirming makes it kind of challenging, but the fist in his hair keeps him from getting away this time. Braig's vaguely aware of the bits that come loose around his fingertips, accidentally ripping out several of the strands.
Terra's body is tense, shuddering both around him and against him. He alternates between grunting and trying to suck down oxygen into his lungs, the sharp, airy noises he makes every time Braig drives in enough to get that ball of pleasure rolling even farther up the length of the gunman's spine.
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It's flushed, teeth bared and grimacing. Something wet is trailing down his cheek, and it's got to be either sweat or an involuntary tear leaking out from those now tightly-shut eyes.
The tingling in his groin spreads at that, fueled on by the prospect of Terra crying. The kid is clearly in pain, and he's clearly not enjoying himself--Braig feels a rush of something when he thinks about how he has him on his hands and knees like this, helpless and weak and most likely humiliated at being defiled in such an undignified manner.
In a way, he thinks, it would make it even better, even more shame-inducing if the kid started to like what Braig is doing to him... but that's too much to ask, and in all honesty he doesn't really too much about anything besides his own satisfaction at this point. There's a chance he is feeling some degree of pleasure from it, but there's also a chance that the pain is too intense for him to realize it.
In the end, Braig figures, it really doesn't matter all that much anyway.
It's not the easiest to get the angle he wants, like this. But the way that ass keeps squeezing around him is enough to make up any lack of finesse. He yanks on Terra's hair again, causing the brunet to rock back into the rough grip just as Braig slams his cock into him again one last time--and that does it.
He comes abruptly, a lot faster than he thought he would.
There's nothing but the familiar, bursting sort of euphoria as pleasure sears its way through him, shooting off like electric sparks through his nerves and pooling deep inside his belly, causing his knees to go weak and his eyes to drift shut of their own accord, momentarily. It happens a little too quickly for it to be as satisfying as he normally likes, but it still makes his toes curl inside the confines of his boots, and he braces himself and reopens his eyes as soon as it's over, releasing his hold on Terra's hair.
The keybearer jerks away immediately once the hold on his head is gone, still shaking as his elbows bend and he slumps forward. Braig's cock slides out of his abused ass with a slurp, glistening with cum and what looks like some blood.
Not surprisingly.
"Thanks," is all Braig says, as soon as he's able to speak again. Then he laughs a little.
Terra's shoulders are heaving and he keeps his eyes on the ground now that Braig's let go of him, looking like he's about to retch. There's a barely constrained trembling to his body as a strange, dark haze begins to form around him--and Braig gets to his feet, keeping the gun aimed as he pulls his pants up with one hand and takes two steps away.
"Alright," Terra bites out, still breathing hard and raggedly. He doesn't make any sudden movements, which, Braig figures, is the logical thing to do when there's a gun pointed at your brains. "Now let him go."
Kudos, Kid. Guess you aren't completely stupid.
The haze continues to seep from him, curling out in inky waves so black that they're almost purple.
Weird, but this must be some of that Darkness stuff good old Xehanort was talking about. And, if that's the case-
Mission accomplished.
"Okay, fine. Just hold your horses." There's a triumphant note in Braig's voice, one he has to consciously dull down lest the kid goes getting all suspicious on him, or some shit.
Not that the probability of that happening is very likely.
Braig smirks.
And, now that he's gotten that out of the way, it's time to get started on phase two.
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Wtf!worthy ending because this really needed to die and I didn't know how else to end it.
Also, noncon is a BITCH to write. But fun. Kind of. ;)
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And you're very welcome! Thank you too because I'm actually not that used to writing either of them (or noncon, for that matter), so it's a relief to hear it turned out okay. And as far as Braig having to psych himself up--he's just always struck me as the crazy bastard type who'll do shit for the lulz (and his own benefit, of course), even if he's not that into it. So yeah. But in any case, I'm super happy you liked! :)
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