tumblr hit tracking tool

Copyright (c) Naked Persimmon 2010-11. All Rights Reserved.

Contact Us - Submit Your Stuff

Home Fanfiction Fan Art Gallery Inspiration Station Rugulator Room Tumblr Links Contact Us

Feedback for the author...

Fic Title *
Feedback *
Home Slash Fiction Het/Gen Fiction Donatella's Head

DISCLAIMER: This site is in no way affiliated with the Monkees or personal relations thereof. All fan fiction and fan art is intended for entertainment purposes only and no defamation of character is intended whatsoever. To break it down one more time: It's all just for fun, folks.





Title: Rough
Author: Tig (spoonzees)
Rating: R/NC-17 for... well, guess :)
Pairing: Mike/Peter with mentions of Peter/Micky
Warnings: Um... slash, smut, general naughtiness, and Peter's a big fat slut?
Disclaimer: Yeah, this didn't happen. Although I can totally see it happening in my head.
Author's Note: This is my first smut, so I'd appreciate some feedback :)

There was a shove, and suddenly Peter was against the wall, a pissed off Mike Nesmith pinning his shoulders there, terrified but more turned on than he had ever been in his life.

Mike looked straight into his eyes, glaring, and Peter hoped he wouldn't move even an inch forward, because then Mike would feel it, feel how much Peter wanted him.

"You son of a bitch," Mike said, quietly. Peter would have been less afraid had the other man been yelling. Mike shoved his shoulders back again. "You dirty little queer."

Oh, hell.

"You... you know-"

"Yes, I fucking
know!" Mike's voice finally got louder.

"I... I-"

"Listen, if you're a queer, I could really give a rat's ass. But Micky? Fucking Micky?" He let go of Peter's shoulders and took a few steps back, rubbing his eyes wearily. "
Why Peter? Why him?"

"Why do you care?" Peter countered. He knew that he was playing with fire, but he couldn't help it. He wanted Mike touching him again. He didn't care how rough it had to be. "Unless..."

He was shoved against the wall again and covered up a groan.

"What the fuck are you implying?" His face was so close. If Peter was in the mood to die, he could just lean forward and... But no.

"I just mean you're
awfully concerned about who Micky fucks. Are you sure you don't just want him for yourself?"

Mike planted a hand in the center of Peter's forehead and
shoved. Suddenly, Peter was seeing stars and his pants were entirely to tight and Jesus, he had never wanted anybody to pin him down and fuck him more than he did at that instant.

Mike leaned in close.

"You listen to me, Tork, and you listen good. I. AM. NOT. QUEER. And if I was, I wouldn't go for Micky, of all people!
I have morals!"

"Oh, please," he was pushing this too far, Mike was going to hit him or kick him or kill him, "I've seen how you look at him, like you could just
lick him. Not that I blame you, he tastes so good, you should really - ah!"

Mike had tangled a hand in his hair and yanked his head to the side.

"Shut up, you little bastard, shut your fucking

Peter threw all caution to the wind, drunk on Mike's scent and touch and voice and still dizzy from his head's journey into the wall.

"You sure you aren't queer, Mike? Very kinky stuff going on here." He slid a hand around the slim curve of Mike's waist, biting his lip as it came to rest on Mike's ass.

'God,' Peter thought. 'Even if he kills me, this was worth it.'

Mike had become very still, one hand woven tightly in Peter's hair, the other holding him to the wall, in the middle of his chest.

"Y-you, you-" he sputtered, not moving to remove Peter's hand.

Hm. That was... interesting, to say the least.

"What's wrong, Michael?" he asked mock-innocently. "Cat got your tongue?"

He slid closer to Mike, insinuating a leg between his. He nearly jumped in shock as he felt hardness against his thigh.

Mike seemed to realized his surroundings at this point and leaped away, looking at Peter with wide eyes and a fist raised.

"You, you fucking
queer! You-you-"

He was cut off as Peter grabbed him by the belt loops, yanking him forward until they were pressed together nearly seamlessly below the waist.

Peter looked up into Mike's eyes, smirking slightly.

"Your dick seems to like me."

He curled a hand around Mike's neck, pulling him downward, not entirely surprised when Mike shoved his head into the wall again.

"Fuck you, Tork."

"Feel free, 'Nez'."

Mike growled. 'Not allowed, he's not allowed to call me that, not allowed-"

"Don't call me that, queerboy!"

"Why not, Mike? Am I making you
angry? Do you want to punish me?"

"Shut up, shut your fucking
face!" Mike glared furiously at Peter. "I said I'm not queer!"

"Yeah, you say that, but
this-" Peter reached out and cupped Mike's crotch, "-says something different."

Mike sucked in a gasp and closed his eyes, shuddering slightly.

"What's wrong, Mike?" Peter asked again. "Is something the
matter?" On the last word, he squeezed slightly.

Mike badly muffled a groan.

"Tell me what's wrong, Michael." More faux-innocence. "What do you need?"

He began softly moving a finger up and down the hardness in Mike's pants.

"Don't... stop..." Mike gasped lowly.

"Now, was that 'don't' or 'don't stop,' Michael?"

"Fuck," Mike managed before pulling Peter forward and smashing their lips together.

Peter moaned underneath Mike's lips, thoughts on overdrive.

'this is mike oh jesus it's
mike mike's kissing me mike's tongue is in my mouth-'

Their tongues twined together furiously, Mike's hands tangled in Peter's hair as Peter opened his mouth wider against Mike's, begging for the other man to delve deeper, kiss harder.

"Mmph," Mike groaned as Peter pulled away to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

Peter tugged insistently at Mike's tie when he ran out of neck to kiss and lick.

Mike hurriedly loosened his tie and pulled it off as Peter rushed to undo buttons.

"Mmm," Peter moaned as he finally ran his hands up Mike's chest. He leaned down to lave a nipple with his tongue and Mike jumped.

Peter looked up at Mike, his chin pressing into the taller man's belly-button.

"You want me to suck you off?" He asked casually, licking a stripe up Mike's stomach.

"Yes... Jesus, yes..." said Mike shakily.

"Want me to wrap my lips around our dick?"


"Want me to suck your cock until you come?"

"Christ, fuck,
yes, Peter!" Mike cried in exasperation.

"As long as you're sure..." Peter smirked before mouthing Mike's dick through his pants.

He quickly undid the button and zipper of Mike's jeans, grinning with delight as he discovered that Mike wasn't wearing underpants.

"Commando, huh? Did you get that from Micky, 'cause when we - mmph!"

Mike cut Peter off as he shoved the other man's head down.

"Christ, I like you better when you don't talk," he groaned as Peter immediately began sucking him.

“So did Micky," Peter shot back snidely before giving Mike's dick a quick slurp.

"Shut up," Mike said darkly. "Use your mouth for something - Jesus!"

Peter had sucked Mike down to the root and blinked up at him innocently.

"Bastard," Mike grumbled.

"Mmmhmm," Peter hummed around Mike as he moved his mouth back up.

Mike shuddered with pleasure as Peter reached the tip, swirling his tongue around.

"Fuck." Mike grabbed the back of Peter's head, twining his fingers in the fine blond hair as Peter sped up his pace.

"Swallow me," Mike hissed at the bobbing head.

Peter tilted his head back, widening his eyes to look as appealing as possible.

"Come for me, Mike. Come on my face, I want to taste you." He gave Mike's cock one last, long lick.

"Shit, Peter, fuck," Mike cursed as he climaxed, coating Peter's lips with his come.

"Hmm..." Peter hummed as he licked his lips, blinking up at an exhausted Mike through sticky eyelashes.

"Teach you not to push me into walls, huh?"

"I guess so," Mike sighed wearily.

"That is... unless you want this to happen again..." Peter winking before giving Mike's dick one last kiss, wiping his face off with his sleeve and walking out of the bathroom.

Mike stared after him in contemplation.