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Oct. 31st, 2010 10:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Hannibal/Face
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: dub-con
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the original kink meme.
Go back to early days of Hannibal & Face relationship ; I'd really want to read something where Face would be a pretty young adult, excellent ranger, impatient to join the prestigious Hannibal's team. However, everybody knows (except Face) that Hannibal really likes to bring his new subordinates to his bed.
Welcome-to-my-team-ritual-sex ensues, with Hannibal being all rough and manly, ordering Face to shut his mouth. Because he really wants to join Hannibal's team, Face takes it like a man and obeys his superior.
(A hopeful ending would be fantastic. Something like Hannibal feeling sorry when he suddenly realises Face is different from the others newbies he savagely fucked before. Some shy cuddling or protective words to sore!Face would be nice. But feel free to surprise me !)
[/long naughty prompt]
Lt Peck gets a little more than he bargains for, the first time he sets foot in LTC Smith’s office. Another one of those I wrote on my phone and had to post anonymously on the meme (grr, phone)...
There were a lot of things about active duty that the folks back at ROTC forgot to mention. Like how much fucking paperwork he was going to do. Like how his first job probably would consist entirely of making coffee, and how difficult it was going to be to get the hell out of there. Like how much he was going to throw up during Ranger training. Like about what was going to happen when he reported in to his first unit at Benning.
Stepping into the commander’s office, having to lock the door behind him, hearing a soft order to take his ABU top off, getting a hard slap when he didn’t comply.
How his hands were going to shake as he undid the buttons.
“That’s good, lieutenant,” the colonel behind him said, helping him slip out of the heavy blouse. A hand ran along the back of his neck, up into his hair. The top hit the floor. “Now the rest of it.”
Peck wished he’d known stuff like this before he commissioned. Wouldn’t have stopped him. It just would have been nice to know.
He pulled his under-shirt off over his head, watched the brown thing fall. “Strange interview process you’ve got here, sir.”
That hand on his scalp tightened a bit, twisting into short strands of hair. “There’s no interview process, lieutenant. Only what you’re willing to do in my unit and,” and here the colonel was in front of him now, piercing blue eyes boring through him, “what you’re not.”
Did anybody know about this? Know that this was the way Colonel Smith treated new memebers to his unit?
Would really have been nice to have been told. So he’d be ready.
“You know, colonel,” he said with a weak laugh, “I didn’t actually mean it when I asked ‘em whose dick I was going to have to suck to get here...”
“Your last commander told me about that,” the colonel replied, and smiled. Peck’s knees felt weak. Hannibal Smith, the legend himself. The man was gorgeous, or would be, if he was in to that sort of thing, a lifetime of fighting showing clearly in his tall, lithe frame, deliberate, smooth movements, the dark lust on his face, in that smile...the colonel didn’t need to do this. “Said you were willing to do anything.”
Was he? “Yes, sir,” he said, cheeks flaming at the weakness he heard in his own voice. Why was this so paralyzing?
“That’s not why I picked you up, Peck,” Colonel Smith continued, jerking the younger man’s chin up roughly, not letting him break contact. “I heard you were a damn good soldier...”
“Aw, thanks,” Peck said with more bravado than confidence.
“... and that you’d probably need a strong hand to keep you in line. Is that true? You going to be a problem for me, lieutenant?”
Peck didn’t like the way that hand in his hair was making him feel. Little circles on his scalp, heat running through him, pooling. Distracting. He couldn’t think with that going on. “No, sir,” he gasped in response.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Colonel Smith asked, his eyes crinkling.
He swallowed, wondering how much of this nervousness was showing. He couldn’t show it, couldn’t afford to show it, right? Sarcasm. He needed more sarcasm. “You got a lot of half naked men in your office lying to you regularly, sir?”
A range of emotions played over the other man’s face before settling into a smirk. The colonel backed up. “Boots.”
Fuck.
Peck managed to untie and discard the things, toeing his socks off as a rough hand pulled him back up. That left him his pants, and nothing else, and he bit his lip as Colonel Smith moved back in, right on top of him, so close he could fel the other man’s breath on his forehead. So calm. “Pants, lieutenant, off.”
A hand tugs at his nylon belt. Away it comes. Peck set his jaw, determined not to be ashamed right now, nothing to be ashamed of, but he couldn’t move. “Sir...”
“Not very good at taking orders,” the colonel mused, biting his ear sharply. “We’ll have to work on that.”
Buttons came undone, fabric fell away from his hips and he mutely stepped out of the pile, kicking away, not obedient, not willing, but certainly not ready to walk out of here. This was his chance. This was his only chance, and he wasn’t going to lose out because of something as insignificant as...
The colonel walked a slow circle around him, inspecting with critical eyes. What? What did he see? There was nothing wrong with him.
A calloused hand closed down around his cock, unwelcome and wonderful. Peck felt himself growing hard. Damn it, please not this, but it’d been far too long...
All those years in foster homes, those years of trying to get through public schools and living in crappy neighborhoods. He’d fought. He’d gotten bones broken, shattered a kid’s leg once himself, seen blood on the concrete. He was better than this, didn’t need to take this shit, stand here and let some old man get his rocks off by abusing his rank...
And then a fist connected with his stomach, hard, driving the breath out of him, knocking him down. “That so, lieutenant?”
What the... Had he spoken aloud? Had Hannibal seen it in his eyes? Staring up at the colonel from the floor, half stunned, it was too late to take it back now. “Fuck you,” he spat.
Before he could stop it or react at all- and damn, the old man was fast - Peck found himself flung up and over, chest flat on the desk and pinned down by the still-clothed body behind him.
“That’s the idea,” the colonel chuckled, and Peck could feel the man’s erection pressing against him. Then it was gone, Colonel Smith pulling away, and then it was back, hard on the younger man’s thigh. Nothing between them now.
Then there, something wet. Slippery, between his cheeks.
Lube. So, this was all planned. That’s what he was afraid of.
"Take it like a man, Peck."
Peck tucked his head into a corner of his arm, biting back his scream as Smith’s cock surged through the tight ring of virgin muscle, slowly sinking into him, inch by inch, ripping him open, filling him up, the world twisting up as the colonel above him began to move, rocking a little, just at first, hitting something deep inside, light blurring, pleasure rushing through him.
He couldn’t suppress a groan, and Smith picked up his pace, smacking Peck hard on the ass, and now it was long, full strokes, tip to base, sparking against that spot every time.
It was an unmistakable statement of ownership. It’s what Peck had heard about Hannibal Smith, that he took care of his men, that his team was one of the closest-knit in the DoD, that he was dedicated to them, that any of them would - and many had - died serving under him. That kind of loyalty, that sense of belonging, that’s what Peck had wanted, and if this was what it took...
The snap of the colonel’s hips changed, more vicious, less steady, and then he jerked once more and went still, something warm flooding into him, flooding out of him.
When Smith pulled out and away, Peck flipped over. He could feel his own release against his back, on the desk. There was something dripping down his leg, more than semen.
This wasn’t going to be the last time he’d bleed for this man.
Would he mind?
The colonel was leaning back on the desk, just within reach, chewing on the end of a long-extinguished cigar. “You okay, Peck?” he asked in an almost bored voice.
Before he knew what he was doing, the lieutenant had his hand on the older man’s leg, reaching towards his hand. “Fine, colonel,” he said, feeling very empty.
The colonel looked down at him, those blue eyes obviously considering the scene in front of him, and Peck tried not to blush, thinking about what a mess he must be. That calloused hand clenched his, that strong body moved against his once again, and there was an entirely new sensation as lips pressed to his. Chapped, warm. “My men call me Hannibal,” he murmured when he finally pulled away.
Peck’s heart swelled. “Yes, sir.”
“Go clean yourself up, kid,” Colonel Smith - Hannibal - told him and pushed away from the desk, tucking himself back in. “O-Club, nineteen-hundred. Meet the rest of the team.”
“Sir, I, this...”
“Welcome to unit,” Hannibal said softly, giving him another kiss, roughing up his hair a little, a finger brushing off his cheek as it ended. “It’s good to have you here.”
The door clicked as Hannibal left the office, and Peck stared at his uniform, scattered, discarded, removed.
He wished somebody had told him.
Because he hadn’t known what to expect.
Because now he didn’t know what to think.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: dub-con
Summary: A fill for this prompt on the original kink meme.
Go back to early days of Hannibal & Face relationship ; I'd really want to read something where Face would be a pretty young adult, excellent ranger, impatient to join the prestigious Hannibal's team. However, everybody knows (except Face) that Hannibal really likes to bring his new subordinates to his bed.
Welcome-to-my-team-ritual-sex ensues, with Hannibal being all rough and manly, ordering Face to shut his mouth. Because he really wants to join Hannibal's team, Face takes it like a man and obeys his superior.
(A hopeful ending would be fantastic. Something like Hannibal feeling sorry when he suddenly realises Face is different from the others newbies he savagely fucked before. Some shy cuddling or protective words to sore!Face would be nice. But feel free to surprise me !)
[/long naughty prompt]
Lt Peck gets a little more than he bargains for, the first time he sets foot in LTC Smith’s office. Another one of those I wrote on my phone and had to post anonymously on the meme (grr, phone)...
There were a lot of things about active duty that the folks back at ROTC forgot to mention. Like how much fucking paperwork he was going to do. Like how his first job probably would consist entirely of making coffee, and how difficult it was going to be to get the hell out of there. Like how much he was going to throw up during Ranger training. Like about what was going to happen when he reported in to his first unit at Benning.
Stepping into the commander’s office, having to lock the door behind him, hearing a soft order to take his ABU top off, getting a hard slap when he didn’t comply.
How his hands were going to shake as he undid the buttons.
“That’s good, lieutenant,” the colonel behind him said, helping him slip out of the heavy blouse. A hand ran along the back of his neck, up into his hair. The top hit the floor. “Now the rest of it.”
Peck wished he’d known stuff like this before he commissioned. Wouldn’t have stopped him. It just would have been nice to know.
He pulled his under-shirt off over his head, watched the brown thing fall. “Strange interview process you’ve got here, sir.”
That hand on his scalp tightened a bit, twisting into short strands of hair. “There’s no interview process, lieutenant. Only what you’re willing to do in my unit and,” and here the colonel was in front of him now, piercing blue eyes boring through him, “what you’re not.”
Did anybody know about this? Know that this was the way Colonel Smith treated new memebers to his unit?
Would really have been nice to have been told. So he’d be ready.
“You know, colonel,” he said with a weak laugh, “I didn’t actually mean it when I asked ‘em whose dick I was going to have to suck to get here...”
“Your last commander told me about that,” the colonel replied, and smiled. Peck’s knees felt weak. Hannibal Smith, the legend himself. The man was gorgeous, or would be, if he was in to that sort of thing, a lifetime of fighting showing clearly in his tall, lithe frame, deliberate, smooth movements, the dark lust on his face, in that smile...the colonel didn’t need to do this. “Said you were willing to do anything.”
Was he? “Yes, sir,” he said, cheeks flaming at the weakness he heard in his own voice. Why was this so paralyzing?
“That’s not why I picked you up, Peck,” Colonel Smith continued, jerking the younger man’s chin up roughly, not letting him break contact. “I heard you were a damn good soldier...”
“Aw, thanks,” Peck said with more bravado than confidence.
“... and that you’d probably need a strong hand to keep you in line. Is that true? You going to be a problem for me, lieutenant?”
Peck didn’t like the way that hand in his hair was making him feel. Little circles on his scalp, heat running through him, pooling. Distracting. He couldn’t think with that going on. “No, sir,” he gasped in response.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Colonel Smith asked, his eyes crinkling.
He swallowed, wondering how much of this nervousness was showing. He couldn’t show it, couldn’t afford to show it, right? Sarcasm. He needed more sarcasm. “You got a lot of half naked men in your office lying to you regularly, sir?”
A range of emotions played over the other man’s face before settling into a smirk. The colonel backed up. “Boots.”
Fuck.
Peck managed to untie and discard the things, toeing his socks off as a rough hand pulled him back up. That left him his pants, and nothing else, and he bit his lip as Colonel Smith moved back in, right on top of him, so close he could fel the other man’s breath on his forehead. So calm. “Pants, lieutenant, off.”
A hand tugs at his nylon belt. Away it comes. Peck set his jaw, determined not to be ashamed right now, nothing to be ashamed of, but he couldn’t move. “Sir...”
“Not very good at taking orders,” the colonel mused, biting his ear sharply. “We’ll have to work on that.”
Buttons came undone, fabric fell away from his hips and he mutely stepped out of the pile, kicking away, not obedient, not willing, but certainly not ready to walk out of here. This was his chance. This was his only chance, and he wasn’t going to lose out because of something as insignificant as...
The colonel walked a slow circle around him, inspecting with critical eyes. What? What did he see? There was nothing wrong with him.
A calloused hand closed down around his cock, unwelcome and wonderful. Peck felt himself growing hard. Damn it, please not this, but it’d been far too long...
All those years in foster homes, those years of trying to get through public schools and living in crappy neighborhoods. He’d fought. He’d gotten bones broken, shattered a kid’s leg once himself, seen blood on the concrete. He was better than this, didn’t need to take this shit, stand here and let some old man get his rocks off by abusing his rank...
And then a fist connected with his stomach, hard, driving the breath out of him, knocking him down. “That so, lieutenant?”
What the... Had he spoken aloud? Had Hannibal seen it in his eyes? Staring up at the colonel from the floor, half stunned, it was too late to take it back now. “Fuck you,” he spat.
Before he could stop it or react at all- and damn, the old man was fast - Peck found himself flung up and over, chest flat on the desk and pinned down by the still-clothed body behind him.
“That’s the idea,” the colonel chuckled, and Peck could feel the man’s erection pressing against him. Then it was gone, Colonel Smith pulling away, and then it was back, hard on the younger man’s thigh. Nothing between them now.
Then there, something wet. Slippery, between his cheeks.
Lube. So, this was all planned. That’s what he was afraid of.
"Take it like a man, Peck."
Peck tucked his head into a corner of his arm, biting back his scream as Smith’s cock surged through the tight ring of virgin muscle, slowly sinking into him, inch by inch, ripping him open, filling him up, the world twisting up as the colonel above him began to move, rocking a little, just at first, hitting something deep inside, light blurring, pleasure rushing through him.
He couldn’t suppress a groan, and Smith picked up his pace, smacking Peck hard on the ass, and now it was long, full strokes, tip to base, sparking against that spot every time.
It was an unmistakable statement of ownership. It’s what Peck had heard about Hannibal Smith, that he took care of his men, that his team was one of the closest-knit in the DoD, that he was dedicated to them, that any of them would - and many had - died serving under him. That kind of loyalty, that sense of belonging, that’s what Peck had wanted, and if this was what it took...
The snap of the colonel’s hips changed, more vicious, less steady, and then he jerked once more and went still, something warm flooding into him, flooding out of him.
When Smith pulled out and away, Peck flipped over. He could feel his own release against his back, on the desk. There was something dripping down his leg, more than semen.
This wasn’t going to be the last time he’d bleed for this man.
Would he mind?
The colonel was leaning back on the desk, just within reach, chewing on the end of a long-extinguished cigar. “You okay, Peck?” he asked in an almost bored voice.
Before he knew what he was doing, the lieutenant had his hand on the older man’s leg, reaching towards his hand. “Fine, colonel,” he said, feeling very empty.
The colonel looked down at him, those blue eyes obviously considering the scene in front of him, and Peck tried not to blush, thinking about what a mess he must be. That calloused hand clenched his, that strong body moved against his once again, and there was an entirely new sensation as lips pressed to his. Chapped, warm. “My men call me Hannibal,” he murmured when he finally pulled away.
Peck’s heart swelled. “Yes, sir.”
“Go clean yourself up, kid,” Colonel Smith - Hannibal - told him and pushed away from the desk, tucking himself back in. “O-Club, nineteen-hundred. Meet the rest of the team.”
“Sir, I, this...”
“Welcome to unit,” Hannibal said softly, giving him another kiss, roughing up his hair a little, a finger brushing off his cheek as it ended. “It’s good to have you here.”
The door clicked as Hannibal left the office, and Peck stared at his uniform, scattered, discarded, removed.
He wished somebody had told him.
Because he hadn’t known what to expect.
Because now he didn’t know what to think.
