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sencrose · 3 months

Text

-- SAPPHIRE PASSION

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

tags: dubcon, extremely dubious consent?, idol AU, object insertion, pain, coercion, praise, masturbation, fingering, creampie

wc: 5.1k

a/n: i'm taking notes from underground jp idol culture, if you have any questions feel free to ask (would love to talk more about it despite my pretty shallow knowledge, i am begging actually). in short: chekis -> polaroids, oshi -> fave/bias, oshikatsu -> showing support for your fave. ao3 link with alot more notes here

summary: you're too eager to please, and Satoru's all too willing to take advantage.

Sometimes you wish you had a more socially acceptable hobby. It’s hard maintaining friendships when your days are constantly blocked out by concerts, when you spend all your money on chekis and oshikatsu goods. Whenever you try to explain, you’re met with looks of disgust and snide comments about how you’re throwing money into an endless pit.

In terms of romantic prospects, it’s not like you can invite anyone over to your apartment either, cramped and covered in a plethora of merch that most people would find strange at best and downright creepy at worst. But that wish washes away as soon as you step to the front of the line.

”Oh look who’s back! How have you been?” Satoru beams with a smile that puts the sun to shame.

”I’m doing great, how are you?” you greet back, handing him your ticket.

“I’m doing great as well!” He gestures to the staff member to get ready to shoot.

”What kind of pose do you wanna do this time?” he asks.

”Can we do heart cat ears?”

”Oh, I don’t think I’ve done that before,” his hands press together to show his excitement, “how do you do it?” His eyes peer into yours, sparkling with anticipation.

You bend your index finger while keeping your middle straight and put them on top of your head, two halves of a heart placed to look vaguely like cat ears.

”Aw, that’s so cute! As expected of my cutest fan.”

He says that almost every time you’ve met him. You’re sure he says it to all the other fans as well, but it never fails to send blood rushing to your face.

The cameraman counts down from three and the two of you get posed up. With a flash, the picture is taken. The film slowly slides out of the polaroid camera, and Satoru swiftly takes it, shaking a paint pen in his other hand to get ready to sign it.

”Did you enjoy the show today?”

”I did!” You exclaim, maybe a bit too excitedly as your voice squeaks unexpectedly. “It was amazing as always.”

”Aw, that’s great. We’ve been working really hard, I’m so glad you enjoyed it.” Satoru signs the polaroid while talking, decorating it with hearts. “What was your favorite part?”

“I don’t know, everything was so great…” you hesitate, attempting to collect your thoughts. Your nerves creep up on you, and you curse how this happens no matter how many times you’ve done this. Satoru simply nods to show he’s listening as he continues signing the polaroid.

“T-the new stage outfits are so gorgeous and they really make you shine,” you pause, trying to think of the other highlights of the night, hands gesturing in an attempt to expel your nervous energy, “but I didn’t expect you guys to perform the new single so soon, so that was a really pleasant surprise.”

“I’m glad you had such a fun time.” Satoru responds, finishing signing the polaroid with a dramatic flick of the wrist, signaling that your time together is coming to an end.

”I’ll be here to cheer you on for all your future work as well!”

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you then!” Satoru holds the polaroid gingerly, blowing on it to aid the drying paint. “Now remember, be careful, hold the picture by the edges so you don’t smear the paint.”

“Of course.” You grab hold of the picture, holding it carefully by the edges as he’d demonstrated.

“See you next time! Thanks for all your support!”

”See you next time!” You wave back. You take in the view of the polaroid, slowly developing, the smiles of you and your oshi permanently encapsulated in the thin film. Just looking at it puts a cheesy grin on your face as you make your way out of the venue.

After the paint has had ample time to dry, you place the picture in your wallet, in the transparent slot that’s usually reserved for your ID. This is more important anyways.

---

You must be losing your mind. There’s no way this is real.

You were adjusting all of your chekis, moving them between your mini photo albums. The most recent polaroid had something written on the back:

Text me sometime? xx-xxxx-5429

After finding this hidden message, you dug through the rest of the chekis you’ve collected over the years, only to find nothing. It’s just this one. When did he even get the chance to write this?

You can’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Should you even message it? Are you willing to cross that line?

…

You are. You definitely are.

---

you: hey, is this Satoru?

Satoru, maybe?: depends, is this my cutest fan?

Satoru, maybe?: with the heart cat ears? ♡ॢ₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

You slam your phone down on your bed in a panic, as if it’s been possessed by a demon. Your heart races as you grab on to your chest, attempting to inhale deeply to collect yourself before unlocking your phone and typing again.

you: haha yeah

you: but wait, how do i know it’s you?

Satoru, maybe?: <1 attachment>

Satoru, maybe?: does this prove it?

You open the picture with bated breath only to realize it really is him. It isn’t a picture you recognize from his SNS accounts, considering he barely uploads anything to them.

you: i guess it does :)

Satoru, maybe?: then i was wondering

Satoru, maybe?: did you wanna go out sometime?

Satoru, maybe?: my treat of course

Alright, play it cool, take a deep breath. This does nothing to still your racing heart. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all.

you: yes i’d love to!

Satoru, maybe?: awesome! are you free this saturday?

you: yeah i am! :)

Satoru, maybe?: cool, meet me at the station at 2?

you: sounds like a plan

Satoru, maybe?: alright, see you then :)

you: see you then :)

---

Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

You spent all morning agonizing over what to wear, and you can only hope that it was the right choice. You wait anxiously by the station exit, keeping your phone on standby for any incoming texts.

“Hey!” Satoru approaches you, although heavily obscured. Baggy black hoodie and pants swallow his figure, along with a baseball cap, mask, and sunglasses covering his face. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” He tilts his face down towards you so you can get a look at his eyes, and prove that it is indeed him – not that you need the evidence, you would recognize his voice anywhere.

“Oh no worries,” you smile nervously, noting just how close he is to you, “I just got here.”

“That’s great!” he says, punctuating the end of his sentence with a clap, “Well, let’s get going!”

“Where are we headed?” You follow behind him, letting him lead the way.

“I thought a cafe would be nice.” He looks over his shoulder to meet your eyes. “You like sweets?”

“I do!”

The two of you make your way to the cafe, engaging in casual small talk along the way. You feel like you’re walking on clouds alongside him, the distance between you so close that his hand occasionally grazes yours.

You find yourself in a quaint cafe hidden in an alleyway. It’s a hidden gem, you’d never find it without his recommendation. A quiet oasis in the middle of a bustling cityscape.

“They have really good pastries here. Feel free to get whatever you want.”

You look into the display case, dozens of artisan pastries and baked goods lined up neatly at your fingertips.

After a moment of deliberation, the two of you order your food, an array of pastries, along with two coffees showing up at your table shortly after.

“I ordered some extras too in case you wanna try any of them.”

”Oh, thank you.” You reach towards what you assume is a chocolate croissant, ripping a piece off. It has a light crispy skin, melting in your mouth as soon as you take a bite.

“Wow, this really is good.”

“Right? I love coming here.” Satoru exclaims, taking off some of his layers.

“Are you sure about that?”

”Yeah, don’t worry I come here all the time. Plus,” he says, gesturing to the empty tables, “Nobody’s really around.”

You already knew you were on a date with him, but it feels so much more real when his sunglasses and mask are off. You take in the sight of him and even under the dim lighting of the cafe, his beauty shines, almost blindingly so. You notice yourself staring a bit too long at his face, eyes shifting to the side.

”You can look all you want,” he teases, placing his hands on the back of his head as if he’s trying to show off, “I don’t mind.”

You bring yourself to look at him again, but he has that award winning smile that has heat blazing a trail to your cheeks.

”So…” you trail off, unsure how to carry on the conversation. It’s one thing when you know you have two minutes in a controlled environment, it’s a whole other beast when you have all the time in the world. Any conversation topic that you’d usually keep slotted in your back pocket eludes you.

“You’re wearing a different outfit than usual. It’s cute.” Satoru picks up where you left off.

“Ah, I guess you’ve only seen me wearing merch at concerts, huh?”

“Yeah, but this is nice too,” he says before taking a sip of his coffee, “‘lets me see another side of you.”

“I guess we’re both seeing different sides of each other.”

“Am I that different?”

“Maybe,” you pause, a hint of hesitance to your voice, “just a little.”

“What’s so different about me?” he asks, his chin leaning on his hand, tilting his head so he can show off his sharp jawline and the sparkle of his eyes with the sunlight shining through the window. Something about him seems just out of touch, like he’s hiding behind a mask. That said, it’s a beautiful mask.

“I’m not so sure,” you answer honestly. If you really put your head to it, he’s every bit as charming now as he is when he’s performing. Maybe even more so, but you’re not sure you have the guts to confess that.

“You wanna know what I think is different about you?” he asks, his fork cutting a slice into his tart before pointing it at you, like an accusation of a crime, “You seem more nervous than usual.”

“Am I right?” he asks, his voice dangerously low, before taking a bite of his tart.

How could you not be? Your favorite idol is on a date with you of all people, and you’re well aware he’s well out of your league.

“Yeah, you are,” you confess, eyes looking off to the side, unable to meet his gaze.

“Do I get a prize?”

“What do you want?” you ask awkwardly, shifting around in your seat ruminating on the possibilities.

“What do you think?” He grins, his eyes tracing the features of your face until he lands on your lips.

This might be the most forward you’ve been in your life. Time feels like it slows as you scoot your chair closer to his. With your eyes closed, you steel yourself, lips pouted, lean forward, closer — this is what he wants, right?

“Ah,” Satoru’s voice breaks your trance, “but I don’t wanna force you to do anything you don’t wanna do, that’s not fun.”

“O-oh,” you collect yourself, plopping back down in your seat a bit too fast, wishing you could curl up into a ball and disappear, “right.”

---

You messed up.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he just ghosted you after this. Maybe the rest of the date went fine, you’re not sure, too preoccupied with the embarrassment hanging over your head. Why did you try to kiss him?

The jingle of the door notes your departure and interrupts your spiraling thoughts as the two of you make your way back onto the busy street. The air shared between the two of you is stagnant, a clear cut contrast to the noises of the city.

“Um, I had a lot of fun today,” you break the silence as you continue walking, “thanks for taking me out.”

“Of course! But it doesn’t have to end just yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could head back to yours?” he proposes casually, eyes meeting yours.

You look back at him, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as your grip on your bag strap tightens. Your gaze shoots nervously to the floor, staring at a crushed soda can that piques your interest for the moment.

“I-it’s a bit messy,” you look back at him only to realize he’s staring right into you, “I don’t know if you would want-“

“I don’t mind a little mess,” he says, casually wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “You’re not scaring me off that easily.” There’s a tone behind his words you don’t recognize, something that doesn’t seem quite as rehearsed or put together like his usual self. You try to find it in yourself to protest, but the words on the tip of your tongue melt away as Satoru looks at you with a burning desire behind his eyes.

“S-sure.”

---

You make your way back to your apartment, with Satoru following right behind you.

“Make yourself at home.”

Your place isn’t actually that messy, but it is small, feeling even more cramped when it’s covered in an embarrassing amount of merch. You didn’t actually expect him to come over, so you didn’t make any preparations to make your room seem like that of a normal person. Promotional flyers, album posters, concert apparel, smother your walls without a speck of empty space to be seen.

His eyes are drawn to the display shelf in the corner, fit with several can badges and acrylic stands of his likeness, customized light sticks, and a fan with his face plastered on it.

“Must be a little weird seeing this, huh?” you attempt to joke, but your awkwardness is too candid to be hidden.

“I don’t think so. It makes you even cuter in my book.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he states with a conviction that catches you off guard, “you mind if I take a look?”

“Not at all.” You gesture towards the case with your hands and a slight bow, a bit too formally for the situation at hand. “Go ahead.” You swear his eyes sparkle as he looks over the case before settling on one of the light sticks.

“Did you decorate this one yourself?”

“I did! It was before you released official light sticks.”

“That’s so sweet of you. Do you mind?” he points at the stick.

“Sure.” You open the case, reaching for the light before handing it over to Satoru. Once in his hand, he taps on the buttons, cycling through the colors until it turns a beautiful shade of blue.

“Wow, this shines pretty bright.” he comments, admiration glimmering in his eyes.

“I have to show my support from the crowd.” you say, waving your fist as if you’re holding a lightstick in your hand.

Satoru mimics the chant patterns you yell at his shows with an earnestness that has you grinning ear to ear. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him make a fool out of himself. He really is better suited to be on the stage. After a few moments of waving the light stick around he puts it down.

“God, your arms must be tired after doing this the whole show.” he says, holding onto his shoulder as he stretches.

“I’m pretty used to it. If anything, it’s a great workout,” you say, raising your arm to flex the less than impressive muscle, “and you’re working out way more than I am!”

“Well with fans like you, I gotta be able to keep up.”

Before you know it, his face hovers dangerously close to yours. Your eyes meet his, an unreal crystalline blue you’ve never seen this close. His hand brushes against yours, fingers gently slotting into yours. His other hand caresses your chin with gentleness you’ve only dreamt of. Satoru brings his face towards you, sealing your lips with a kiss. The scent of vanilla and cardamom fills your lungs, a stark and welcome difference from the sweat and stale odor of the venues you usually see him in.

It’s just a kiss, but you can feel yourself getting lost in his lips, heat building in your body as you press into him. He presses further into you with a fervor that overwhelms you as he wraps his hand around your waist. His kisses become more intense, like rain clouds swirling into a storm, asking, demanding for an entrance you’re all too willing to give him, parting your lips. The taste of coffee and sugar dance on his tongue, intoxicating like a spell, pulling you in further. Everything about him is overwhelming, the way his body is pressed flush against yours, his grip around your waist, how he maneuvers you closer to the foot of your bed until you fall gracelessly onto it. Satoru hovers above you, toned arms on either side of your head, white strands framing his face, eyes filled with lust.

“Could you do something for me?” The question is simple enough, but you sense something darker behind his words. You’re not sure what you’re getting yourself into, but after that debacle at the cafe, you’re far too eager to please, to make amends in any way you can.

“Y-yeah.”

“Show me how much of a fan you are.”

He places the penlight in your hand, wrapping his fingers against yours. His hand guides you to lift the hem of your skirt, the light now pressing against the fabric of your underwear.

“Would you do that for me?” he asks, sultry and sweet.

Your breath catches in your lungs, face burning as if your cheeks are flint and he’s lit a match under your nose. The beat of your heart rings rhythmically in your ears, as you question if you heard his proposition correctly. Is he asking what you think he’s asking?

“I-I haven’t done anything like this.” you say, not exactly answering his question, hoping he accepts your answer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you every step of the way.” His fingers hook into the side of your underwear, sliding up and down your slit. “I’ll even help you get started.”

You’re at a loss for words, nerves paralyzing your tongue, only able to give him a shy nod.

He continues playing with you, fingers finding your clit and drawing languid circles that are just a bit too slow. An unfamiliar tension grows in your core, begging for release.

“You really are my cutest fan.” he whispers in your ear, honey dripping off every word.

His finger teases your hole, slowly inserting to a shallow depth before taking it out. Your muscles squeeze in anticipation only for him to play with your entrance, rubbing against your folds before entering you again. Your hole envelops his finger as he pushes it in. He starts with a curl, his finger digging around as if he’s searching for something. Within a moment, he’s pressing against the spot that has you leaning into him, chasing for more.

You can’t keep your satisfaction hidden, low gasps spilling from your lips as you realize your hips are bucking into him. His fingers build a steady pace, and you meet him there, desperately humping into his touch.

“So needy, huh?” he teases before inserting another finger into you. It slides in without any resistance, a testament to your arousal.

A warmth builds in your body, your breathing labored as he has his way with you. You melt under his touch, like putty in his hands. It’s a wasted effort to keep your voice back, volume rising as you bite back on your hand.

Satoru pauses for a moment, fingers slowly exiting as he admires your arousal on his hands. He reaches out for the penlight, bringing it towards your hole. The plastic presses uncomfortably against your slit, collecting your slick he slides it up and down your lips. Your heart feels like it’s beating in your throat, and a twinge of fear hits you when you realize you’ve never had something so large inside you.

“S-Satoru, I’m not sure about this.” You hold his wrist firmly, an attempt to have him pause.

“Don’t worry, it’ll feel really good, I promise.” Satoru ignores your grip, slowly pushing the light stick into your hole, the object feeling foreign inside of you. The stretch is uncomfortable, cold unfeeling plastic separating your walls. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, or the intrusion inside your body, eyes darting across the room to look at something, anything else — a daunting task when his likeness is plastered all over the walls.

“Just like this.” He brings your attention back to him, patient hand holding onto yours, gripping you as he slowly fucks you with the light stick. Your pussy envelops the light, blue sheen disappearing as he pushes it in more. With every thrust, you can see your arousal glossing the surface of the light stick. You don’t recognize it as the object of your affection, custom made for him. It’s molded into something else altogether, a vessel solely there to deliver a hot tension to your core.

The discomfort from the stretch slowly dissipates, a flare of pleasure building in its place. It starts to feel less foreign as it warms up to the temperature of your insides. Satoru starts to pick up the pace, lewd squelches escaping your cunt with each pump.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he coos. His lips graze the nape of your neck, a subtle lick to test the waters, earning a high pitched squeal that comes out more like an excited moan. You feel him grin against your skin, kisses tracing a line towards your shoulder. You can’t deny yourself the heat that builds in your core, the way your breath hitches in your chest with every kiss, every drag of the light stick.

“Show me how good you feel.” His eyes watch intently as his hand lets go of yours. You continue fucking yourself with the light stick, free hand rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to soothe that building ache for release. Satoru watches intently, his hand stroking himself through the fabric of his pants.

Heat rises in your face, in disbelief that you’re doing this in front of him — but he’s getting off on it too, a blush painting his face as he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock from his briefs. Satoru lifts the hem of his shirt before biting onto the fabric, revealing muscles you’ve only seen on stage in fleeting moments of fanservice. Even from those short glimpses, you knew he had a well-maintained physique, but it’s much more sinful when it’s mere inches away, for your viewing pleasure alone. There’s something arousing about watching the image of your picture perfect idol falling apart as he loses himself in the throes of passion. He moans under his breath, desperate for release as he strokes his cock harder.

The view’s enough to send you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over your body as you gush over yourself, walls fluttering and clamping onto the illuminated plastic. Satoru’s close behind you, soft moans escaping him as he cums, hot ropes of semen covering your pussy.

You’re barely able to gather yourself, chest rising and falling at an abnormal pace, a sheen of sweat covering your back, causing the fabric of your shirt to cling to you. Aftershocks of your pleasure shoot through you, phantom spasms clamping to the intrusion inside your cunt. Your walls clings to the light stick, feeling a bit of resistance as you pull it out. Your muscles shiver at its absence, core aching at the emptiness. The light flickers before turning off permanently. Guess it wasn’t waterproof.

Satoru chuckles as he collects himself, still out of breath from his orgasm. “Wow, you actually did it. Maybe the rumors about my fans are true.”

“What rumors?”

“They’re sluts.”

His words deliver a sobering realization that brings you down from your high and back to reality. Your face twists in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks in a wicked heat.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re the first,” he purrs low, kissing the nape of your neck. You’re not sure you can believe him. “And for what it’s worth, I really enjoyed it.”

“Look what you did to me,” he teases, stroking his hard cock, already raring to go. “Gotta do something about it, yeah?” His cock presses against your slit, slowly humping into it, his pre and your juices mixing together. The stimulation so close after your orgasm makes you shiver.

“You’ll do it for me, right?” His head tilts inquisitively as the tip of his cock hovers over your hole, moments away from penetrating. The size of his cock strikes fear in your chest. Even compared to the light stick, you can tell you’ll struggle to take him in. You’re not sure if you’re ready for something like this, but when he asks with that honeyed tone dripping from his words, you feel charmed to say yes. You want to make him feel good too, giving another hesitant nod blessing him with the permission he craves.

“Good girl.” With a swift thrust, he forcefully pushes himself inside you, an uncomfortable stretch building into a harrowing pain. Of course a light stick doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Everything about it is just too much. There’s just too much resistance, too much of him inside of you. You struggle to take him in as he presses in further, holding your breath in hopes of a relief that never arrives – just a fullness you’ve never experienced before. A pained hiss escapes you as he starts humping into you recklessly, air knocked out of your lungs with each thrust, without any regard for your comfort.

“Wait, S-Satoru, it hurts.” You’re barely able to get the words out between pained groans. You attempt to squeeze your legs shut, but it does nothing to soothe the pain or slow Satoru’s pace.

“But you’re making me feel so good.” He spreads your legs apart further, fucking you with slow but hard strokes. His hands grip onto your inner thighs, using it as leverage to push himself deeper inside you. The slap of skin only gets louder, a pain striking in your core as he hits your cervix. Any attempt to drive your attention away from the pain fails, only leading to your hands gripping onto the sheets, knuckles turning a blistering white. The cool and collected facade of your idol fades away to dust. You don’t recognize the man in front of you, all greed and desire, rutting into you searching for his own high.

”Satoru, p-please, it’s too much!” you plead, hand momentarily letting go of the sheets to push against his chest.

”C’mon sweetie, I know you can do it,” whispering in that sweet yet hollow tone that hasn’t left his lips since the moment you met him, not that it does much to soothe. His tongue licks the shell of your ear, a gasp escaping your lips.

You attempt to power through, biting down on your lip and letting your favorite idol have his way with you, ravaging your pussy like it was made just for this, just for him. Tears swell in your eyes as you try to put on a brave face. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, clenching your eyes closed as you let out choked back sobs.

”Don’t cry, you’re being so good for me,” he says in an artificially sweet tone that now sounds alien, overplayed like a broken record. One hand gently pets your head before gripping onto your hair, only serving as a support for him to push himself deeper into you.

“You’ll feel real good soon, I promise.” You’re not sure you believe him, not sure you can believe him until his hand makes its way to your aching clit. The graze of his fingers is already enough to have you keening into him. Little shocks of ecstasy shoot through your body as he finally slows down, his hand focusing more on the bundle of nerves. His other hand reaches up to your chest, fingers crawling under the fabric to play with your tits, kneading the flesh before catching your nipple between his fingers. With his aid, your body gets acclimated to his size, the burn from being stretched out subsiding and a dull but undeniable pleasure taking its place.

You don’t recognize this version of yourself, desperate for a high you’ve never even tasted, falling back onto base, primal emotions as you start to match his tempo, pathetically pressing your body into his. You don’t recognize the salacious moans spilling from your lips, the look in Satoru’s half lidded eyes as he watches you give in to your desire.

”See, what’d I tell you?” he pants into your ear, warmth from his breath sending a shiver up your spine, “feels good, right?”

And you hate to admit it, but he’s right: it does feel good. Better than good even, heavenly. How his length fills you up so deep, the way your cunt anticipates him with each thrust, your walls slowly taking the shape of him. Any words on the tip of your tongue disappear without a trace, head too fuzzy and scrambled to form any coherent thoughts.

The tension in your body comes to a head, body tight as your muscles clamp around his cock like a vice, panting his name with a reverence fit for an idol. Pleasure shoots through every nerve of your body, head light and hazy with bliss as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands ball into fists as he teeters the line of overstimulation, a whisper of pain too quiet to be felt before it fades. Satoru’s close behind too, pace erratic as he moans a string of hushed expletives under his breath. He comes with a deep thrust inside you, warm sticky ropes of cum coating your insides.

Satoru takes a moment to catch his breath before removing himself from you. Cum spills out of your hole, and you wince at the emptiness. You both lie on the cramped bed, out of breath, sweat clinging to your bodies. A gentle yet unreadable smile paints his face, and you’re not sure what to make of it.

“You really are my cutest fan.”

#satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #sen fics #sen writes #s.jjk #cw.dubcon #sorry this is a repost! it got blocked from tags so i'm trying again #if it fails then w/e i tried lol

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myfictionaldreams · 2 years

Text

Day 15: Begging - Bucky

Kinktober Day 15: Begging - Bucky x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, shy!reader, teasing, anxiety, handcuffs, vibrator, masturbation, begging, desperate bucky, creampie, nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link

You had never felt determination like it, you weren’t just the sweet-looking girl that they all thought you were, you could do this, you could get Bucky to beg.

It all began after speaking with Natasha, the topic of which had your body flushed in embarrassment. The assassin was describing in detail her latest sexual adventure and you were too much of a prude to ever do what you were doing which only in turn caused the Avenger to tease you.

“I knew you would just lie back and take it”.

“I’m dont” you muttered, already feeling defensive.

Natasha leaned forward across the table, looking at you with a keen eye, “Oh yeah? So what..do you like to take control then? In fact let me ask you this, has Bucky ever begged? Ever held him down and taken control?”

Your silence was answer enough for Natasha as she smirked, throwing her hands up in the air, “see I knew it.”

Natasha taunts ran through your thoughts all day causing you to fall back into old habits, biting on your nails and bottom lip, zoning out for who-knows how long in the kitchen whilst trying to wash up that you hadn’t even noticed your boyfriend's return.

One warm and one cold hand circled your waist, the temperature fell through your thin vest as a brief kiss was placed on your cheek. It was instantaneously that all your worries seemed to disappear, becoming lost in idle conversation, having dinner together and his sweet soft touches that distracted you enough to forget.

This was until the two of you were tucked up in bed, his body hovering effortlessly over yours, full lips moving steadily against your own until his tongue slipped between causing you to gasp, wanting, needing more of him.

Then the thoughts returned, here you were, already prepared to lay back and have Bucky ravish you like he did every single day, you wanted to be more, you wanted to show him you could be just as dominant and in control of the situation.

So without another moment to overthink it, your legs wrapped around his slim waist, gripping tightly and with all of the force you could muster, you spun your bodies with surprising ease as Bucky was suddenly on his back with you now hovering above. He clearly hadn’t expected this, that's how you managed to move him onto his back, his face alight with surprise.

Sitting on his stomach you tried to ignore the butterfly sensation in your stomach as his hands wandered up your thighs and before you lost any more of your confidence you moved to interlock your fingers with his, smiling down innocently at him.

“I’m going to make you beg, Mister Barnes”.

Bucky didn’t seem to take on your words, just biting his bottom lip as his eyes danced across your still clothes body, “Oh I'm sure you will, Doll”.

From this reaction, you knew he wasn’t convinced so you huffed and rolled your eyes.

“You’ll see Bucky, I will,” he noticed the uncertain wobble in your voice and only smirked up at you, knowing he always had control over all situations in the bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, you brought your joined hands up the bed, holding them by the bars, looking deep into his stunning blue eyes, “keep them there”. Without waiting for his reaction, you leaned across the bed and pulled out two objects, one of which was a set of handcuffs that you’d stolen from his bag.

Bucky watched with a laid back expression as you handcuffed both of his wrists to the bars on the headboard. “You know I could easily snap out of these right?”

“Please don’t” you responded, already forgetting about the dominant persona you were trying to portray, noting that his eyes had softened.

“I will, seeing as you asked so politely, Doll”.

You bite the inside of your cheek, looking straight ahead at the blank wall trying not to show the embarrassment that hides within, you could do this, make him beg!

Setting your plan into action, you began by reaching for the hem of your shirt and lifting it up and over your head, displaying your now bare chest, seeing the way Bucky’s eyes dropped to your breasts, watching the nipples perk from the cool air.

The next step was the one that had your hands slightly shaking as you shimmied out of your shorts, leaving you bare on his stomach, Bucky's eyes now going frantic with where to look over your body.

Finally, you grasped the other object that had been found on the bedside table, a small bullet vibrator, one that you kept for when Bucky went on missions. Leaning on his hard abs, you kept a close eye on him, beginning by rubbing your bare wet cunt on him, making sure he could feel and see how aroused you were, noting the way his breathing hitched.

Then as you revealed the vibrator, turning it on and laying it against his stomach, his eyes darkened, a small groan leaving both of you as you ground against him and the vibrator, feeling the contrast between his warm, chiselled abs and the cool shiver of the metal.

Your hips move slowly at first, warming yourself up to the sensations, letting your body awaken with each shift of your hips back and forth, not once looking away from Bucky who was already shifting around, hands clenching in the handcuffs.

Bucky didn’t even seem to be blinking as his eyes moved from your pussy, up your body, noticing every breath, shiver and moan you produced, up past your breasts to your face, wishing he could kiss every inch of you before dropping his eyes back to your pussy.

It was an endless cycle, one that only drove you on, moving faster, turning the vibrator up.

“Bucky” you moaned, feeling the cord tighten in your cunt, moving faster, feeling your juices coating his stomach, thighs aching from the movements but not caring you were so close.

“I’m cuming” you rushed out, eyes closing, head tipping back and finally the relief pulsed through you causing you to jolt but ride out the waves.

As you turned off the vibrator and placed it back into the draw, you were about to move your fingers down to tease yourself more when Bucky made a small grunting noise that almost sounded like desperation.

“You ok there mister Barnes?”

He doesn't answer, looking almost like he was losing control as he bared his teeth, contemplating his next words before deflating. “P-please” his voice was hardly even audible.

You paused, blinking down at him, “what?”

“Please” you can’t believe what you were hearing, expecting it to be a few more orgasms and teasing before he even remotely became close to losing control.

“Please what Bucky?” this caused him to growl in frustration.

“Please let me fuck you”. You begin to open your mouth, intending to taunt him more when he interrupts, “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Ok”.

Bucky was snapping out of his handcuffs before you could even blink, finding yourself flat on your back once more. “I want to taste you so fucking bad right now,” he swipes a finger across his wet abdomen, moaning as he sucked it dry, tasting your arousal. “It’s going to have to wait I need to fuck you so bad right”.

He rushes to undo his jeans which were the only article of clothing left on his body. You couldn’t help but giggle at his rush, having never seen his fingers not look steady before, can’t quite believe the mess you’d turned him into.

Your laughter was cut off as he finally freed his cock, not even bothering to take off his jeans fully before lifting your legs up and over his shoulders, exposing your cunt further to him. Bucky swiped his cock up and down your folds for only a moment, coating his cock in your moistness before pushing into your eagerly awaiting hole.

You both moaned loudly, Bucky almost sighing in relief as he bottomed out, holding your thighs tightly as he only gave a second to adjust before fucking you hard.

Every thrust was powerful and deep, stroking against all the perfectly sensitive spots within, his hips slapping against your own, the bed shaking with his efforts as you gripped tightly to the pillow beneath your head, screaming out his name repeatedly.

It felt so good to have him acting so frantically, chasing that high he desperately needed but also bringing you closer and closer to your own orgasm, needing to hear you and feel you reach your peak and you knew it would be soon.

“Fuck I can feel your tight cunt clenching around me, Doll, cum for me” you reached forward, gripping his hands that still tightly held onto your legs keeping them in position, toes curling as the intense orgasm rippled through you.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to join you, his body shaking as he groaned deeply, his cum filling you up and then he all but collapsed next to you on the bed, hand resting on your stomach. Your own hand raised to caress his cheekbone, smiling like an idiot at him as he mumbled, “you can make me beg any day Doll”.

#this gif has me feral #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky smut #bucky one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #marvel fic #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2022

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bunniesandbeheadings · 11 days

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For over a decade now I’ve endured a very similar joke from people who, I know, both never have spoken to one another (so it’s not a conscious conspiracy) and also, I know objectively, don’t really mean me harm (because they can’t know my past history with this)

But ever since elementary school (for context: I’m a grown ass woman now with a husband and a mortgage and if I drop my favorite bag of chips on the ground I shouldn’t cry about it) every single one of my friends and also, a great majority of my family like to make a similar crack

“Did you know you’re my second best friend?”

“I love you bunnies! But I love (x) person more!”

And again, I know no individual person means me ill with this

But I’m just so. Genuinely tired of hearing this. I’m really tired of hearing my whole life “ha ha! You’re second best!”

Like it’s to the point that where a girlfriend of mine said it to me that every part of my brain fires off and told me, “ha. She thinks she’s telling you that you’re her second best friend! But here’s a funny thing you could do: just be her number one worst enemy.

Backstab the bitch

Ruin her fucking life the moment you get the chance

She thinks you’re her second best friend! Wait. You’ll find the time to show her that you’re really the worst enemy she’s ever made! Betrayal is fun!”

Cuz that’s what I want to do!

I don’t know why everyone I’ve ever met thinks it’s funny to tell me I’m their second favorite. Say nothing at all! I don’t need a ranking system! I don’t ask to be ranked people just tell me, out of nowhere, “you’re my second favorite person”

Ha ha ha

Well I’m about to be your least favorite person because I am going to actively ruin your life now! Thanks!

((See tags. No im not an actual threat. I don’t have the time for that. But what the fuck. Stop saying this to me. Stop it. I have low self esteem and I will kill us both.))

#no I won’t actively ruin anyone’s life #I don’t have the energy for that #and also the statement just hurts cuz it’s always from people I otherwise love #I don’t need to be your number one #I just also don’t know why you feel the need to tell me I’m your number 2 #what is it about me that every person I’ve ever met feels the need to tell me I’m their second best friend or second favorite person?#and they say it while laughing m #ha ha ha ha ha #yeah no I’m really tempted to just. take the first opportunity I have to ruin you.

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Puppy love : father!dick grayson x mother!reader

request by @parkjammys " no, we cannot get a puppy" with Dick.

A/N: as announced, I put it in a single parent!verse, hope you'll enjoy. You can find other stories from this verse under the tag :)

***

„Pretty please?” Sienna’s eyes were wide open and shining like stars as she was looking at her father pleading to make her dream come true.

“Sienna….” Dick sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. It was always hard to refuse his little girl. Given everything she had been through, starting from being abandoned by her own mother, didn’t she deserve some joy and fun. But life was hard sometimes and he had to be a responsible adult. “No, we cannot have a puppy”.

“But why?” the girl pouted, her eyes turning sad and that view broke Dick’s heart. But he was a single father, who had to balance life, job, taking care of his kid and now, making time for some who was pretty much in love with. “daddy?”

“ I’m sorry princess. I’m just not sure if we can fit a dog into our life at the moment…..”

“This is so not fair!” Sienna smoothly came from being sweet and charming to throwing a temper tantrum, stumping her little feet on the ground angrily. ‘I want a puppy!”

“I know, honey, but…..” before Dick could finish the sentence, Sienna started crying, sobbing and almost threw herself on the ground. In the kindergarten entrance in front of every mother who came to pick their kids after a whole day. Freaking great. What was he supposed to do now? Wait until she stops? Use some force, lift her up and pack her into the car? Dick Grayson, who was capable of handling almost anything became completely helpless in the clash with his girl’s fury.

“Hey, everything all right here?” a bit concerned, but still optimistic and familiar voice interrupted hysterical sobbing and Dick sighed in relief. Thank god, Y/N showed up to pick up Thomas. Maybe she could reach to Sienna and make her calm down.

“Miss Thomas’s mother!” Sienna immediately stood up and threw herself at the older woman, hugging her legs tightly.

“Mummy!” clearly Thomas heard his mother’s voice from the open door and mirrored Sienna’s action, running at the woman, sudden impact from two sides, almost making her trip and fall.

“Hi there, kiddos.” The woman smiled wrapping arms around both boy and girl, throwing a glance at Dick and chuckling at his desperation “How was your day?”

“Daddy won’t buy me a dog! Why not? I can take care of it! I would hug it and love it and take care of it! Please, Miss Thomas’s mum, can you tell him I would be good? Can you tell him to get me a puppy?”

“Where does this come from? Why puppy all of a sudden?’ Y/N asked, her gaze meeting Dick’s. It was like he forgot where he was, his eyes just showing all the love sickness he held for the woman in front of him. Like a schoolboy. “Richard?” she called, reaching out and poking him in the chest lightly finally getting his conscious attention “Hi there.”

“Hi…..” he whispered, but quickly realised she was waiting for some answer “Oh, um…. Sorry” he cleared his throat “Apparently one of the girls….”

“Alicia!” Sienna corrected

“Yes, of course, Alicia. Brought photos of her pet and Sienna became enamoured in an instant.”

“I see. And now you want one for yourself, don’t you?”

“Yes, please….” Sienna hid her face in Y/N’s knees hugging her even closer.

“Can we get one too, mummy? We could take walks together with Sienna.” Thomas looked up at his mother with pleading eyes. “It would be so much fun!”

“You know what?” Y/N put both kids on the arm’s length, crouching to their level and focusing on both little faces. “I think I might have an idea about that….”

“You do?” Dick, his daughter and Thomas eyed Y/N like she was their salvation and she just smiled and nodded.

“Yeah We’re gonna take a little trip. Buckle up. I’m driving.”

“I will not take the passenger seat!” Dick objected out of instincts.

“too bad for you, Grayson. Either you shotgun and follow my lead or go home alone while I kidnap your daughter.” Y/n let out a laugh, opening the car and letting the kids in. Luckily they were too busy with the belts and talking about what kind of trip it was going to be to notice Dick coming close to Y/N and brushing his lips over hers briefly.

“I hate you…..” he whispered, smiling into the kiss “you make me so weak and compliant…..”

“Unlike your daughter, huh?” she caressed his arm and shoulder. “I really hope to see your dominant side soon….. I missed it…..”

“Y/N…..” he groaned

“Get in the car before any of the parent sees us. There are enough rumours…”

“I don’t care about adults.” He chuckled, stepping away from her “but if Sienna and Thomas starts asking questions, we’ll be toasted.”

***

The car ride was shorter than anyone may expect and filled with talks and laughter. It was almost like they were a family. But once Y/N parked in front of a grey, omniscient looking facility the kids got quiet. They couldn’t quite decipher what was written on the front door but something was telling them this was going to be serious and their laughter stopped.

“Mummy?” Thomas stuttered “what is this place? I’m scared.”

“There’s no need” she smiled at her son “no one is going to hurt any of you here. I promise. I just want you to see and learn something very important.”

“And then we’ll go get the puppy?” Sienna was extremely stubborn.

“We’ll see how it will turn out, all right little one?”

“Sure. Whatever…..” the girls crossed arms over her chest, looking way more adorable than resentful.

Once they got out and walked through the door, Thomas grabbed his mother’s hand, refusing to let go, still a bit scared and far more focused than his little friend who just busted right through ready to check whatever tour this was and go to an animal store.

“Not so fast!” Dick caught her and lifted her up, getting the plan Y/N had. “You cannot really run here. We came for a lesson.”

“What lesson? I don’t… Oh!” the voice froze in her throat as she noticed the cages with dogs in them. All kinds of dogs. Big, small, white and brown and black. Old and young. But what made them all similar was the pain and fear on their muzzles. And once the four people appeared, all of them moved towards the front, begging and pleading eyes focusing on the kids.

“What is this place, mummy?” Thomas started turning his head around.

“It’s called shelter. This is home for all those dogs that no one wanted.”

“But why?” Sienna sobbed again, struggling against her father’s grip and Dick finally put her down “why would no one want them? They look so sad…..” her little fingers rested on the glass of the cage as the little dog put his little paw on it “it’s not fair…..”

“You see, a puppy is not only about fun and playing.” Y/N explained, feeling sudden warm as Dick’s free hand entwined with hers “but it’s also about taking care of it. Feeding, cleaning, taking to the vet, spending a lot of time with it. Some people just get bored with those animals or have too much to do to care.”

“I don’t understand…..” Sienna frowned

“Oh!” Thomas’s eyes grew wide “I think I do.”

“Really? Tell me then, son.”

“I hears someone says once that a puppy is not a toy and you should not get one unless you are sure you know how to care for it. Is that what this was about mummy?”

“My clever boy.” Y/n couldn’t hide the pride in her voice “that was exactly it.”

“so…..” Sienna frowned again, a lot of thoughts forming in her head “this would be too hard to have a puppy now?”

“I’m sorry, sunshine.” Dick crouched next to his daughter “But a lot is happening and we don’t want to end up hurting whatever puppy you will get, do we?”

“No…..” the girl hesitated “No, we don’t, but…. What about all those doggies? Can we help them?”

“Actually, we can.” One of the workers, dressed in an apron chimed in “Hey there, Y/N. Giving the kids a tour?”

“Hello Dave. Something like that. I see we came right in the feeding time. Would you mind it our little Sienna the explorer and Thomas the Indiana jones, joined you? You can tell them about the volunteering and helping here.” Y/n winked at the man who were clearly her friend.

“More than happy, Y/N. You busy parents can take a little break, those two are in good hands.”

***

“You’re so smart.” Dick whispered once they took Dave on his offer and sneaked outside. His arms wrapped around her, pressing her close to his chest, wandering around her back.

“Because of how I handled the kids or because it gave as alone time?” she smirked

“Both.” His lips found hers and he kissed her gently, slowly, carefully. “Don’t you think it’s time to talk to kids about us? I’m tired of hiding and sneaking around.”

“Dick?” she tried to pull back, shocked by his question, but he didn’t let her, chasing her lips and kissing her more, this time reassuringly and she melted. Of course she had objections about it. Not about Dick, but about introducing another man into her son’s life , which could been hard. And Thomas’s acceptance was everything for Y/N. His father run away when the boy was two years old, so that wound was still fresh and she had to have her son’s well-being in the back of her mind. It was not only about her.

But god, how she wanted to try.

Dick made her feel everything she never had. Love, partnership, care. Even when they were bantering or teasing or even fighting from time to time, it was all because they had so many emotions for each other, not because they wanted to cause pain and hurt.

“Don’t run away from me….” He whispered, holding her tighter, brushing his nose over hers “Please, just give this a chance. Give us a chance. I don’t want to hide how I feel. I don’t want to have to deflect the advances of the mother’s. I want to be able to kiss you and hold you in public and not watch out if someone may see us. God, Y/N. I love you. “ there, he said it. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I ……”

He will keep on saying it if it wasn’t for the fact that her hands locked on his neck and pulled him down to kiss, effectively shutting him up. He loved how her fingers played with his hair and how nice her body felt against him when she pressed herself closer.

“I hear you, Dick.” She finally had to let go and take a breath, leaning her forehead on his.

“And?” he smirked, but his heart was doing flips in anticipation for her answer.

“God, you fool! Of course I love you too! With all my heart! I loved you from the moment I first saw you at the parent-teacher meeting! You were so lost there, the only father, like an odd duck amongst the mother hens” she laughed wholeheartedly

“Good thing I had you to take a place next to me and save me.” He gripped her waist and pecked her lips again.

“You broke me. Ever since then I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“During the days or the nights?” he teased again

“find someone to take care of the kids tonight and I can show you….” She whispered into his ear, getting a groan from the back of his throat just as he imagined all the things he would do to her. “But first, let’s get our kids back, before they make us adopt every dog in here."

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fluff #dc fluff #father!dick grayson #dick grayson x mum!reader #single parent! verse

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dcangel · 1 year

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hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #tmrthomassmut #thomastmrsmut #thomas tmr

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batrogers · 7 months

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"Feral" Tropes

For Clarity: I have written pretty much every single trope on this list at some point or another myself.

(Yes, including extremely ill-advised arson, non-verbal and illiterate Link, needs help with his hair, and spends weeks in blood-stained clothes.)

These can be funny tropes, dark tropes, ironic tropes, heartfelt tropes, and cathartic tropes.

[Art of my Minish Cap Link, by @l3ominor]

Why do people find “Feral” link so polarizing, then?

I’m gonna go over what makes a fantasy, character agency (or deliberate lack thereof), and – because I’m AO3 trash forever, and because I think it’s the most useful thing here – tagging.

It's also like 2000 words, whoops.

I’m using “feral” here to say that Link is positioned as either failing to adhere to expected social norms, or positioned as outside them. Social norms are part of civilization: a structure of rules and expectations that are positioned as the “height” of human social achievements. Meeting them makes you a good, normal person who is respectable and respected; failing them can make you anywhere from imperfect to exile to enemy.

“Civilized” is a moving target that’s defined by others. Anyone, at any time, can be constructed as a failure just because someone wants to do that. Similarly, other features – like slavery and war crimes – can be considered “civilized” because that’s just what the dominant power does. Being “civilized” isn’t inherently good; it’s also not inherently evil. Civilized social rules also include stuff like charity, hospitality, and similar social welfare stuff.

Basically both “Civilized” and “Feral” can mean whatever you want them to mean, but there are some common ways it goes wrong.

Again. I have written 90% of these in various ways. These are not inherently wrong; the frustration often arises from presentation and lack of clarity, which I’ll address below:

The first is infantilizing the character, creating them as helpless.

Wild can’t bathe himself and doesn't see the point in being clean; he doesn’t do anything with his hair. He’s so dumb he eats rocks; he'll eat too much or anything at all, and he has no objection to being treated like a child. He doesn’t know language or how to read or write. If transmale, he doesn't understand his period and thinks he's dying. He was literally raised by a wolf. He can't do anything right. It's presented as fair and just to pin him down to clean him, because he cannot do it himself.

The fact the wolf is supposedly Twilight, who should be striving to get him to other hylians is irrelevant. Real youth react to their period thinking they’re dying, but this is associated with literal children, particularly ones raised completely ignorant of their own bodies and of sex.

The second is othering them, treating them as antisocial.

Other people react badly to him; he has no manners, he smells; he never tells anyone what he's doing. He's afraid of other Hylians; he's indifferent to them, and wants nothing to do with them. He doesn't understand how to function in a group. He'll wander into a trap carelessly, and drag others with him in pursuit of something pointless.

In the case of Hyrule, he lives in a cave and this is strange, bizarre, and horrible, rather than a thing that is in the actual historical record and is a dry, temperature controlled and easily protected place to sleep.

The third is to make them dangerous, a savage thing.

He solves his problems by lighting things on fire, uncaring of the damage done. He bites and growls when upset. He'll kill a monster with his bare hands; he'll show up in town covered in blood and filth.

He's an abomination; he's literally not human at all.

IIII

Probably you read that list and had checkmarks going off in your head. I like that one; I don’t like that one. People never do that right; I’d handle this way better if only—

Good. It’s a fun list of things that can be good, if done to your taste.

A lot of these touch into disability tropes; some edge into racialization ones. A lot are dehumanizing. People have a lot of feelings about both, good and bad, and feeling your way through it by writing is normal, expected, and okay. You do not deserve to be punished for writing something “bad” while trying to understand what you like. Many of these fall under care-taking tropes: someone needs help, and they feel awkward asking so they just want someone to step in and “Fix it” without the humiliation of having to ask.

That’s fine. But if you want to change it up: let Link ask. Let him reach out. Let him initiate the help. There’s a very different feeling when someone pins Wild down to clean him, versus when Wild works up the courage to ask “Can you help me?”

Because yeah, brain damage is complicated. He could have just about any struggles you imagine, but what can be frustrating for others seeing this, over and over, is that he’s treated like a permanent child or an animal. He always will need taken care of; he always needs someone to step in. It is right and just to force him to submit to care against his will...

He never has anyone ask if they can help him, either.

How much sweeter can the care be when he’s willing? When he initiates? When he has agency in his own treatment? Because too many people who need help are not given that choice. Some readers are turned off because the force is all too real, and all too painful to see reflected in what they came to for escapism. One person’s care-taking fantasy, is another’s real life trauma.

Escaping society and it’s pressures is also a fantasy, one of independence and freedom all its own but again, a major feature here is choice. Does Wild have choice? Does Hyrule? Is this presented as of course they don’t belong, or as a reasoned decision, or as a result of being driven out by real violence from others?

All different stories. All different fantasies.

And being the agent of violence is a fantasy, too. “Burn it all down” is a valid emotion (I write variations on it myself, although not this one.) Think of “Kill Bill” and “Fury Road.”

But with an ostracized, feral Wild there is the reflection of real violence against the marginalized communities whenever they express frustration or rage at their treatment. The wrong person being dangerous can get them killed. Of course this is polarizing.

Ironically, this category includes the one trait that Wild displays in the Linked Universe comic that didn’t make the feral list: emotional dysregulation. He loses his temper; he lashes out. He gets upset and jumps the gun... but it’s not cute, it’s not pretty, it’s presented very well in canon (Warriors is frustrated with him, but not seriously angry.) But it doesn’t suit the feral take, because it’s too mild for the violent fantasies, and too adult and human for the innocent ones.

IIII

My first advice about writing this is to be more clear about your tags. Spoilers are always a thing people worry about, but some things can be improved with clarity, and conflict over “bad writing” is one of them. “Feral” Link can mean literally any combination of the above, but those are all wildly different things. Narrowing down what happens in your fic into more specific tropes will both help people who want to read what you write to find it, and help people who will be upset avoid it.

It just common courtesy. I tagged a recent fic “Drunk arguments”+ “Politics” because that argument could go a lot of ways. Someone who’ll read political nonsense may not read sex and may not read crack. It doesn’t say anything but the subject matter, and it doesn’t need to: the question of whether this will turn into politics or sex is a way to direct people in or away according to their taste.

Is this required? No. People make mistakes or have bad days or just don’t want to, and don’t deserve punishment for it. But it’s a tool at hand to filter your readership to better match you, one you shouldn’t disregard.

If you want to adjust how you write, frequently the aggravating factor is in the presence (or deliberate absence) of agency, and in evoking sympathy over pity. There’s also a way to balance traits in just like, the general sense of making the story more complex: nobody is one thing.

For an example from my own projects, I write my version of Minish Cap Link combined with the first Four Sword game. The second time he used the Four Sword changed him into something not-quite-human. But even prior to that, he was non-verbal and skittish; he bit and hissed, he has visible injuries on top of the later changes. I have two fics that present two different ways to frame much the same event: he gets upset and lashes out, and legitimately terrifies the people around him.

In one story, he is restrained. The people doing so are treated as villains for it; you see his fear and panic, and Zelda’s rage over his treatment. In the other, he is calmed by another of the Links, and even in an outside perspective it is made clear that Minish is reassured, relieved and desperate for comfort once his fear has passed – and he trusts the person who talked him down (who did not hurt him) to give it now. He doesn’t have to “behave” to be treated as human, but I also don’t have to make him act “normal” to do so: the framing of how he’s treated by others does it. He’s also clean, well-kept, polite, sweet when he’s calm, and playful.

Similarly, because I have multiple characters who are all non-verbal to varying degrees, I can get away with a lot of variety. I can make one a total bitch, and I don’t have to worry that he’s going to be “bad” representation because if people don’t want a bitchy non-verbal character to relate to, there’s two others to choose from. Balancing a “feral” trait with a mix of signals creatures a nuanced character that isn’t just a ball of Whump.

(Although again: nothing wrong with a ball of Whump if you’re in the mood for it. I have my balls of Whump fics, too.)

Some of the other weird things can be done as just misunderstandings: Is Link eating rocks because it’s polite to join the gorons? Did he realize he was weird and could eat rocks as a child and now does it to joke around? Does Hyrule get to be exasperated at the others pitying his cave? Letting the weird be weird but legitimate can be fun, or even funny: Hyrule lets the others sleep cold in tents while he’s warm inside.

Readers get tired of one-note characters no matter what they’re like. I’ve heard the same complaints about “Dad” Time as I’ve heard about “Feral” Wild, and about Twilight. The fix isn’t to throw out what you like; it’s to build it up into something more. It will never be to everyone’s taste, but you can have a dirty little gremlin who, no matter how inhuman they may seem, is still treated like a person.

Dehumanization is far too prevalent in the world right now, and a lot of us desperately need somewhere to escape it.

Now I’m gonna go write me some fluffy Wild asking for hair brushing. After spending all week chewing on this, it sounds like a fun challenge.

#Linked Universe #Hello it's me again #but people did ask #this is opinion not prescriptivism #LU Wild #LU Hyrule #Zelda fanfic #BOTW #TOTK #disability tropes #disability in media #dehumanization in media

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decks-writing-blog · 26 days

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Here to Stay Drabbles: Benrey Benry Benrye

Summary: Benrey makes some important decisions.

[A/N] In a not yet released chapter of my current WIP fic 'Gordon Swap' my headcanon that Benrey stole Barney's uniform at some point in the past gets brought up and if I recall correctly I alluded to that being the case near the end of WeverTF Benrey is too because it's an idea I've had a for a while. Writing the bit where it's brought up in 'Gordon Swap' made me want to write this so I did.

Everyone paid attention to the security guards. When sensitive experiments were being worked on they blocked the entrance to the labs in question, necessitating people talk to them to be let through. The perfect set up for some fun shenanigans. It wouldn’t work if not one of them though which meant a uniform was needed.

The locker and thus the name tag on the uniform inside read ‘Barney’. A good name… maybe. What made something a good name? That one brought to mind barns so maybe whoever it was owned a barn. Assuming barns existed outside of fantasy video games anyway. Regardless the name was taken and thus that one wouldn’t do no matter how good or bad it was.

Something that started with a ‘B’ would be fine though. B was a pretty cool letter as far as letters went. … A long while of just sitting in the locker room, staring at the name tag so far hadn’t brought much inspiration. Naming oneself was hard. In video games ‘aaaaaaaa’ or some kind of swear word, making the NPC’s look silly and/or rude, worked great. In real life though, in a new human looking form, it had to be something believable. Changing it later was technically possible but what if this security guard thing really took off? A bunch of different names might get confusing and wouldn’t feel right anyway. Any name chosen here would likely stick for a while.

Sticking with being called ‘X’ was possible but it didn’t feel like a name. That was the experiment’s title and the titles of other experiments almost never lined up with any of the proper names for the beings/objects involved and thus it shouldn’t here either. Besides, some distance from that lab would be nice, easier to prank people further away from it as they’d be far less likely to suspect anything fishy.

“Barney. Barbara. Benjamin.” What other ‘B’ names were there? Preferably ones that would be easy to scribble onto the the name tag with the sharpie. “Bob. Boob.” That one wasn’t a name. But it didn’t have to be a real, name did it? Just close enough to one to sound believable. It was hard to know what counted as a real name anyway.

“Barnley. Barley. Benley.” That one had kind of a nice ring to it but wasn’t quite right. “Beney. Ben… ray, like a ray of sunshine? Benray. Hmm… nah, too pretty.” Not that there was anything wrong with being named after a ray of sunshine, the sun was quite nice actually, but pretty wasn’t cool and it had to be something cool. This still felt like a good line of thinking though. So instead of ‘a’ like a pretty ray of sunlight how about the ‘e’ from the original name stay? Meaning it would be… “Benrey.”

“Benrey. Benrey. Benrey. Benrey. Benrey.” Ha. It’d be funny if that was the full name. Maybe some of them could be spelled a little differently too like ‘Benry’ or ‘Benrye’.

Standing and looking around revealed no one to talk to. Which made sense, humans like to sleep every single night for some reason and thus few were ever around during the night. Pretending to talk to someone would have to do.

“My name’s Benrey, nice to meet’cha. Howdy, hello, I’m Benrey. I need to see your uh… papers or something ‘cause I’m totally a security guard so I gotta see that stuff to let you through. … Hello, I’m uh… security guard, Benrey, gotta show me your papers now, ‘kay?” The delivery on some of that wasn’t great. Did security guards even introduce themselves by name? And probably instead of the nebulous ‘papers’, asking for a specific document that he could change up at will would be better. But the name felt pretty good.

The sharpie cap came off with a small pop. Pressing the uniform against the locker made it easier to scribble on the name tag. Turn the ‘ar’ into a big ‘e’ then add a little ‘r’ in front of and slightly over the ‘e’ after the ‘n’ so it wasn’t clear if it was being covered up or replaced, opening the door for it be read as ‘Benrey’ or ‘Benry’. Perfect.

New human looking form and new human sounding name, yay. There was one thing missing though. None of the humans around the lab or in any video games or TV shows were referred to as ‘it’. Why was a mystery because almost everything else – plants, bugs, animals, and video game monsters alike – went by ‘it’ at least some of the time. But if humans went by ‘he’, ‘she’ or in one instance ‘they’, then to blend in more with them being addressed as such was necessary, right? Not that blending in all the way was the goal. Standing out too much too soon would make the bit harder though.

What was the difference between ‘it’s, ‘he’s, ‘she’s and ‘they’s though? Paying more attention to that kind of stuff would’ve helped out here. Was it even something that could be gleaned from looking at a person though? Maybe it was a choice people made and told everyone else and Benrey had just never overheard such a conversation. Asking was an option as was sneaking onto a computer to look it up but… did it really matter? Of everything else, this felt far less important. So… he would be a ‘he’ because as far as he knew all the security guards he knew were ‘he’s so he would be one too.

His name was ‘Benrey’, he was a ‘he’, and he was a security guard. He wasn’t human but he would fit in with them a bit more now, enough to hopefully have some fun.

#hlvrai #here to stay drabbles #benrey

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norringtondeservestheworld · 1 year

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You all I FINALLY got a Playstation 5 a month ago (so happy!!!) and while the 90% of the owners of a PS5 are talking about THAT wizard game which name I’ll not say I’m here, obsessed with Detroit Become Human. I mean I wanted to play it since the day it was released (five years ago lmao I know I’m late) but I couldn’t because I didn’t have the console but now I do and I knew it was great but OH MY GOD I didn’t except to be THAT GOOD. IT’S A MASTERPIECE. IT’S ONE OF THE BEST GAME EVER CREATED. Like I bought it 4 weeks ago and I already did 3 different walkthroughs (yes that’s why I haven’t been a lot on tumblr lately sorry about that) but I can’t wait any longer to talk about it so here you go, my opinions about this awesome game and everything I loved about Detroit Become Human who none asked for. You’re welcome (if you are following me for Braime or something else and you don’t want to see things about Detroit Become Human don’t worry just filter/block the tag, I tag all the posts).

- Always loved the games where a story takes different ways because of your choices (my icon is literally a screen from a game who works that way) and this one has like 99+ different endings based of how you played and most chapters have like 5 different endings like hello??? I love this???

- The screenwriting is terrific. Amazing. And I don’t mean only the story, but the dialogues and characters too. The characters OH MY GOD. There isn’t a single positive character that I didn’t get attached to and none of them is stereotyped, not even the villains. Fuck David Cage, why you didn’t write GOT??? It’s a totally different story from DBH, but I know you could have done better than Dumb & Dumber. Before buying it, I was 100% positive to do every single choice even the worst ones who would get every character killed but now I can’t??? I love them all???

- I wish the story was longer. It wasn’t short at all, but the story was that profound and beautiful and I love these characters I wanted more????

- Loved how they showed the way androids were treated by humans. They didn’t show a lot of the violence humans did to androids because they didn’t need to. Because you could feel it. Seeing public places with “Androids not allowed” on the door and seeing them in the bus being in a limited space for them separated from the humans exactly like it happened to jews and black community in the past. Also the camps where in the end they put the androids to exterminate them look intentionally like Extermination Camps (even in the game itself they say so). A punch in the stomach.

- Loved that most of the characters are androids. The only human character of the protagonists is Hank, literally everyone else is an android and this was perfect. This is a story about androids. They are the ones who are being oppressed. And the humans in this story are pretty good in their villains roles.

- Thank God they didn’t put a romance as the main theme of the story, “an impossibile love between an android or a human” bullshit. This is a story about robots created by humans that were treated like objects, that were a property, who were selled on shops, and they were THAT oppressed they were able to develop emotions and their own personality and break their program to be themselves, people who wanted their freedom and start living as the living beings they are with dignity. This is what makes the story powerful.

- Loved that when Kara, Markus and Connor stop being machines and become deviants you see them fighting against an invisible wall until it’s destroyed, because that wall is their programming and breaking it means they’ll be free to be who they want, stopping being a machine and becoming a living being. Beautiful.

- Android Chloe being on the menu settings that talks to you sometimes but when you finish the story for the first time she tells you she feels different and ask you the permission to leave to discover herself and if you say yes she thank you and leaves??? I don’t know who had this idea but he/she is a genius

- The music. Gods. The music.

And the characters. Gods. Let’s talk about them.

- I knew Connor is loved by everyone and I fully expected to don’t like him that much. I was wrong. I love him.

- I don’t know what the fuck is going on between Markus and Simon, but there isn’t a single logical heterosexual explanation for them. Actually wait, I kinda know what’s going on 😁

- Never romanced North in any of my walkthroughs and never will. I love her but fuck it, if Simon can’t have Markus, NONE CAN.

- I love Ralph. So much. He deserved more screen time! They put him there to scare you with him being mentally unstable and always with a big knife in his hand (pretty sure he killed people too but shhh), but he’s like that because of trauma!! Someone help him and give him some love and therapy!! It’s crazy that they worked so hard making him so interesting when some players don’t even know of his existence since he has like 10 minutes of screen time and you met him only if you do certain choices. Again, the writing is killing it.

- Loved that Zlatko got killed (at least in my walkthrough) from the androids he tortured for fun. Poetic cinema. Freeing them from their cells so they could kill him was one of the best choices I made in this game.

- Protect Simon at all costs. Him and Ralph are the kings in being cinnamon rolls.

- I know a lot of people ships Hank and Connor, but I actually got the Father/Son dynamic from them? I can see why someone like them as a romantic couple, but I see them like a Parent and his kid, like Joel and Ellie from the Last of Us. They have the best non romantic relationship of the game.

- North, Simon and Josh following Markus wherever he goes being ready to die every time, even if they disagree with his approach. Wow. That’s fucking loyalty.

- Markus has the best story, Connor the best arc and Kara has the most anxious story (with better plot twists). At least in my opinion. Everyone is the best in something.

- Loved that Kara and Alice met Luther because of Zlatko. After that awful experience with him, it’s good to know that it brought something positive too.

- I fangirled everytime two of the three main characters of the game met, I didn’t even know it was possible??? I fangirled even more when I saw the choice of making Connor a deviant.

- It makes sense that Connor becomes a deviant at the end, since he was created to stop deviants, he needed more time to evolve and to break his program. I just wished i saw more of him with Markus and the Jericho group fighting together against the humans, the humans he worked with before, and I wanted him to interact with Simon, since if previously you did different choices, Simon would have died because of Connor. Maybe if you pick certain choices they meet? I don’t know.

Everyone should play this. Everyone should know this amazing, profound story. This isn’t game, this is an experience. It has been done with passion. Passion from everyone. From David Cage who created this story and these characters and from the actors who played them with such emotion. Part of me wish they made a series they already have the actors since the characters have the actors’ appearance well maybe except the actress who played Alice I imagine she grown up but actually nope, the game is already with great cinematography and music and acting, it looks already a series. A great series.

Thanks to everyone who read it all!!! Sorry for the rant it’s just I love this story so much!!! And I’m looking for Detroit Become Human’s blogs (and maybe Markus x Simon blogs if possible, my shipper heart need them). Comment if you post about it so I can follow you please!!!

#dbh #detroit become human #simarkus #simkus #dbh markus #dbh connor #dbh kara #dbh simon #markus #kara #connor #dbh ralph #detroit being human #markus x simon #simon x markus

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suleikashideaway · 7 months

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10 ways to tell you're reading a fic by suleikas_hideaway

Thank you @gardengalwrites for the tag!!

Most of these relate to how I’ve felt while writing my (still unpublished) longfic, but a few things have popped up in the recent one-shots I’ve written for the ffviiicharacterweek challenges. Overall, this was a really enlightening activity and took me wayyyyyy longer than I would have thought. Tbh, I’ve learned so much about myself as a little baby writer and I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect!

I inadvertently focus every aspect of my stories on personal growth and recovery. I started writing as a form of therapy to help me deal with my personal struggles, and so that’s inherently what my characters do, too. I live for that slow, nonlinear climb from rock bottom. Or, in my recent discovery of writing one-shots, it’s the understanding that yes, we can do hard things, or yes, it’s worth taking a step back and seeing the big picture and appreciating how we got here.

In that same vein, I discovered that I quite enjoy writing the journey towards rock bottom. You know the one. In which you keep thinking “wow, it can’t get any worse than this!” And then you think it a dozen more times until you’re in a place where you can literally go nowhere but up. Love that. Heh.

I think the above two points make it obvious that introspection is my thing! I aim to give characters a reasonable and believable amount of processing time. I want you to be inside their little heads and see what makes them tick. What do they outwardly show versus what they keep to themselves? What kind of winding thought patterns do they have? What are their secret fears and desires, and do they even realize them? And hopefully not bore you to hell while doing so (:

It’s my goal to make every single word meaningful. I honestly don’t know if I accomplish this, but if there is an object or an image invoked, it’s intentional. Symbolism, motifs, imagery – it’s all meant to be there.

In addition to the symbolism, everything mentioned has a backstory. If a character is drinking a cup of coffee in one scene, you better believe I have their entire backstory as to why they drink coffee. If a character mentions music in one single sentence, you better believe I have the entire backstory of their appreciation for music.

So far I’ve only ever written in close third-person narrative. I’ve been striving for the absolute closest I can get without making it first person, using vocabulary and vibes that only that character can give you. This has been one of the most enjoyable things about writing from different perspectives. Tbh it makes me want to try first person sometime soon.

I’ve also only ever written in past tense. I don’t know why I do this??? I want to try writing in present tense but it’s not something that feels natural to me, though I love reading present.

Another thing I try to do is give an immersive description of the physical environment of a scene. I want to make you feel like you are in the bar with the character, or out in the rain, or in a cold, unwelcome room. It’s something I strive for, and hopefully accomplish! To add to this, I aim for specificity in my descriptions. I try to paint a full picture without going overboard or making anything too purple. (Though I can admit I don’t think my one-shots really go for the level of description I like. Hmmm maybe some more editing is in order!)

I really adore writing romantic relationships as well as family dynamic relationships. Something I hope to add more of is platonic relationships! But as of now, none of my fics have any friendships really highlighted, which I think is sad!

I live for the narrative, which means I try to change my style based on what is needed for the scene. I think I tend to write long sentences but sometimes they get choppy on purpose if that’s better for the tone. Or sometimes, if a character is really in the throes then description is done away in favor for the inward spiral they’re having.

#writing #tag game #my writing #ff8

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scottappreciation · 2 years

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Scottuary2: Reader’s Edition & Final Round-Up

WHAT IS IT?

Now that the creation portion of the event is finished, you can get bingo for just enjoying the content! No community is complete without the support of its readers, and the value of even a single 😍🥰 comment can’t be underestimated. All 89 fics and 17 artworks submitted for the event are listed below the cut, sorted by prompt, to make it easier to find fics to match a bingo. Every prompt had at least two works submitted, and some as many as ten, so you’ll have plenty to choose from!

You can also explore the Ao3 collection here, and a list of the fanart submissions here.

HOW DO I PLAY?

To achieve bingo, simply:

Comment on and kudos five works (for fic on Ao3) or like and reblog with a comment in the tags about what you like (for art). There is no maximum or minimum length to your comment!

Mark each square off on your bingo card

Post the card + links to each piece you commented on to tumblr using the #scottuary2023 tag

Please use at least two separate creators for a complete bingo

You may mix and match fanart & fanfic in the same bingo (eg, an artwork for Little Red Scott and a fic for Significant Objects, etc), though you do not have to

And that’s it! There is no limit to how many bingos you submit, but please post each full five work bingo as one post, rather than one post per fic. This event will run through April 30th.

We can’t wait to see what you’re enjoying!

Row A

Mountain Ash

Help Me Breathe, by @redmoonfever

The House We Build, by @letthestorieslive

Mountain Ash, by @foofsterart

Little Red Scott

fairy tale ending, by @scribeoffate (NSFW)

Big Bad Wolf, by @redmoonfever

The Color Red, by @kailaris-rites

Caperucito rojo, by @silent-snake7

Little Red Scott, by @slumop

Little Red Scott, by @nacreousgore

Little Red Scott, by @foofsterart

Little Red Scott, by @redmoonfever

Scott + His Parents

memento, by @scribeoffate

Protectors of Beacon Hills’ Protectors, by @redmoonfever

so big / so small, by sulky_croissant

Post-Show Canon

Veterinarian, Firefighter, Alpha, by @queenofmoons67

Alone Together, by @redmoonfever

Parallels

alpha pair, by @scribeoffate

halfway to nowhere, by @spikeface

Twilight, by @redmoonfever

Beautiful Boy, by @redmoonfever

Row B

Death

(Help) I'm Alive, by @letthestorieslive

what can the harvest hope for, by @moistvonlipwig

the meaning of life, by @scribeoffate

Love is Suicide, by @redmoonfever

Past Life, by @the-fandom-queen

the anatomy of lightning, by @spikeface

A Pin's Fee, by @princeescaluswords

Tomorrow we'll grieve, by @moths-in-hats

when you’re a kid, by Sydrian

Significant Objects

sacrifice, by @scribeoffate

Pink Pen, by @princeescaluswords

Teddy Bear, by @redmoonfever

Mental and Medical, by @redmoonfever

Significant Objects, by @slumop

Significant Objects, by @foofsterart

Holidays

Without Her, by @evilwriter37

'till we have faces, by @lexluthorswigcap

Valentines Day, by @redmoonfever

Bonds, by @wolfboy88

Golgotha, by @princeescaluswords

alpha pair, by @scribeoffate

seeing ghosts, by sulky_croissant

Holidays, by @slumop

Monster Inside

White Knight, by @princeescaluswords

collateral damage, by @scribeoffate

Monster Inside, by @redmoonfever

Hurt/Comfort

Hold Me Up, by @evilwriter37

Invulnerable, by @princeescaluswords

Surrender Your Heart, by @redmoonfever

No Show, by @redmoonfever

steal my heart, by @scribeoffate

Row C

Scott + Nemeton

second nature, by @scribeoffate (NSFW)

Wish I Was Dead, by @redmoonfever

The Summoning of Scott McCall, by @letthestorieslive

Rare Pairs

tell me what to do, by @scribeoffate (NSFW)

Opposites Attract, by @redmoonfever

Three's A Charm, by @wolfboy88 (NSFW)

¿Quieres bailar?, by @silent-snake7

Electric Fields, by @wolfboy88 (NSFW)

Rare pairs (Scanny), by @slumop

Rare pairs (Scanny), by @foofsterart

Free Space

Pretty in Pink, by @redmoonfever

First Times, by @domesticated-feral

denial, by @scribeoffate (NSFW)

Teen Wolf Postcards: Scott's Tour of the Americas, by @rhyslahey

waiting on goodbye, by sulky_croissant

start by wiping the blood of his chin (and pretending to understand) by @scintalla

Alternate Universe

The Farm Boy Who Wrote Home, by @rhyslahey

Claws and Bats Swinging, by @redmoonfever

Revenge is Bloody, by @evilwriter37

First Times, by @domesticated-feral

Reverse it, by @sammi-phoenix

Alternate Universe, by @slumop

Alternate Universe, by @foofsterart

Roxie

In Love and Death, by @redmoonfever

memento, by @scribeoffate

Fuerza de carácter, by @silent-snake7

Tomorrow we'll grieve, by @moths-in-hats

Roxie, by @redmoonfever

Roxie, by @dahliia04

Row D

Scars

Anatomy of Healing Aching Scars, by @letthestorieslive

Scars like stars on my skin, by @sammi-phoenix

What Makes A Human?, by @redmoonfever

Depression / Motel California

Depression/Motel California, by @slumop

An Alpha's Fall, by @evilwriter37

Until It Kills You, by @redmoonfever

constant variable, by @scribeoffate

Lobito, by @sammi-phoenix

a family to lean on, by @dahliia04

Flare, by @slice-of-magenta

Fullshift Scott

transformative spaces, by @scribeoffate (NSFW)

Friend and Foe, by @redmoonfever

Fullshift Scott, by @slumop

Lacrosse

body check, by @scribeoffate

No Show, by @redmoonfever

Lacrosse Footnote, by @redmoonfever

Electric Fields, by @wolfboy88 (NSFW)

Scott + Canon Emissaries

sacrifice, by @scribeoffate

The Discussion of Inevitability, by @redmoonfever

Fuerza de carácter, by @silent-snake7

Row E

Werewolf Abilities

Vicious Love, by @redmoonfever

body check, by @scribeoffate

a certain potential, by @spikeface

I’m On The Hunt (I’m After You), by @letthestorieslive

Scott + Anger

Scott + Anger, by @slumop

Sometimes it just hurts to exist, you know?, by @the-fandom-queen

You Let Me Fall, by @redmoonfever

equity, by @scribeoffate

Prepare for war, by bel_e_muir

perspective, by @momentofmemory

Canon Divergence

Jungle Exploration, by @redmoonfever

collateral damage, by @scribeoffate

Bonds, by @wolfboy88

Dreams

All My Dreams (Never Quite What It Seems), by @redmoonfever

equity, by @scribeoffate

Past Life, by @the-fandom-queen

mirror image, by @daughterofluthien

Memory

the meaning of life, by @scribeoffate

in case it hasn't gone, by @daughterofluthien

Memories, Where'd You Go?, by @redmoonfever

#scott mccall #tyler posey #teen wolf #sciles #scallison #scira #sceo #scalia #scydia #scisaac #scackson #scerek #truedemon #teen wolf movie #scottuary2023 #scottuary

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seokiloquy · 2 years

Text

Pearlescent Pt 1 - Iwaizumi Hajime

Au: Merpeople

Requested (kind of)

Tags/Warnings: GN!reader, That’s about it.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5

You had seen him a few times while wandering up and down the length of the beach. A towel draped over his legs and a pile of seashells in his lap, the boy would pick one up, scratch at it with a small pocket knife, and then feed a small string through the carved hole. He seemed rather stoic in his concentration, brows pushed down and mouth curved in a natural frown. As you passed, you noticed his hair becoming more spiked as it began to dry off.

“Your eyes aren’t glued. Look somewhere else,” Hanni hissed, digging an elbow into your side.

Your head spun to her. “I— What— No—”

“Don’t try to deny it. Since we got here, you’ve hardly picked up a single piece of trash. Your pockets are filled with beach glass and seashells, and you’ve been staring at him every chance you get,” she scoffed with a teasing grin. “When I asked if you wanted to go swimming, you just said, ‘huh, okay, ya.’”

“And?” Your voice raised.

“You can’t swim.”

“Good point. Look,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder at the boy, “he’s just interesting? He looks good, and he’s making something.”

Hanni sighed, “You have a type for scary-looking buff guys with a hobby.”

“That’s not true!” You shook, causing the glass and shells in your pocket to jingle.

“Don’t lie. If you’re not going to pick up trash, at least do something productive and talk to him.”

“No way.”

Hanni’s eyes flicked over your shoulder. “He’s looking at you?”

“Heh?” You turned around, catching the boy’s eyes as he paused his craft. “Shit, he is. Hanni—”

“Cool, have fun!” She printed off the bag of garbage bouncing against her hip.

“Hanni!”

You were left with a heavy stare shared with the stranger as he threaded his shells blindly. Raising a brow, he nodded, gesturing to the plot of sand beside him. With pinched lips, you came to the startling realisation that he had heard everything.

Kicking through the sand, you rushed to sit at the man’s side. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me. I didn’t mean to be a creep.”

“It’s fine.” He wore a sharp grin, flashing his polished teeth. “I people-watch too.”

“It’s not exactly people-watching if it’s just one person.”

He laughed. “What’s your name?”

“(L/N), (Y/N). What’s yours?”

“Iwaizumi, Hajime. What brings you to the beach?”

Sighing and glancing back to where Hanni ran off, you adjusted your position to get your feet in the warm sand. “Yearly clean up. My class got sent to the beach to pick up garbage.”

“Well, it looks much cleaner than normal,” he tried to compliment.

“Hardly to do with any of my efforts,” you said, reaching into your pockets for the collection you gathered while walking along the shore. “I’ve been a bit distracted by something else.”

“Me?”

“Beach glass and seashells.”

“And me.”

You sighed, dropping the small objects into a small pile in the sand. “So what are you making anyways?”

“A gift. Though it seems all the good specimens have been collected already.” He looked at your pile with a grin.

Arms raised in surrender, you kneed the pile forward. It crumbled. “All yours. I don’t even know what I’d do with it all.”

Instead of picking a piece from your collection, Iwaizumi reached to his side and pulled a string out, slicing it down before handing it to you. “You can make your own.”

Raising a brow, you glanced at the thread. “Are you going to show me how? That looks a bit complicated.”

“I could, but shouldn’t you return to class?”

You didn’t even check before denying.

You went back every day during summer vacation. If the sun was out and the weather cared enough, you would wake up, get dressed and run out the door before anyone could wish you good morning.

It was a change of pace, but it was all made worth it when you arrived at the sandy shore of your town and caught a glimpse of Iwaizumi working away on his gift.

“Are you here every day?” You asked after a couple days while trying your best to match his skill level at making these necklaces.

“Pretty much. You can often find me on the sand if I’m not in the water. Or the other way around.” He tied a knot in his string before lifting up the design. “Tada.”

The shells and pieces of beach glass were primarily blue and white with the occasional earthy tone. They were all small, each around the size of your pinky nail and formed precisely with a practised hand to not make them break. Your necklace couldn’t even be compared with its clunky wrapping and forgotten pieces that broke in the process and couldn’t be added.

“Is the pearl in the middle?” you asked, brushing the pad of your thumb against the round surface hanging from the bottom by a bent wire.

“Sure is.”

“Where did you get it? There’s no way you just found it on the sand, and pearls are expensive.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I just found it. I had to hunt for it.”

“Hunt?”

“Clams are sneaky little things.”

You blinked at Iwaizumi. “You’re saying you dove into the water and hunted clams to get pearls?”

“Ya.” He pointed down the length of the shore where the beach turned into a rock ledge. “There’s some over there every once and a while.”

“You’re insane.”

The rock ledge was infamous for causing broken bones and bruised brains. It wasn’t much trouble if you were even the tiniest bit careful. But often, teenagers found themselves calling the emergency line after a risky fall.

“Don’t worry, I don’t jump in.”

“Then… how do you get there?”

“By swimming, of course.”

You blinked at him, jaw slack. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Grinning, he lifted the necklace and wrapped it around your neck, tying it in a knot.

“I thought you said it was a gift,” you said, adjusting it to lay comfortably before fiddling with the pearl in the middle.

“It is a gift. For you.”

As school started again, you saw Iwaizumi less and less. Besides the fact that every day was spent going to school and doing homework, you found that the times you would walk by the shore and glance over the sand, there was a severe lack of Iwaizumi’s presence.

To make up for not seeing him, you ensured that his necklace was always with you. It was always in reach for you to fiddle with. However, after being told off by your phys-ed teacher, it remained tucked into your uniform and out of sight.

Hanni encouraged you to check on your way back home. Just to see if he would be there, Just in case, because, just maybe, he would be.

He wasn’t there when you arrived. Nor was he appearing from any corner or street. No one was there. With the cold wind and overcast, you should have expected the beach to be relatively empty. But this was where Iwaizumi spent most of his time. Pausing for a moment, you fiddled with the pearl on your necklace and looked toward the rock ledge he had pointed out. If you were lucky, maybe he would be searching for more pearls.

Looking down the jagged edge of the stone wall, you pursed your lips and couldn’t help but think you were being ridiculous. Iwaizumi, as kind as he had been, was practically a stranger. A stranger that was able to woo you with his sharp features and ability to wrap and thread a beautiful piece of jewellery.

The water was splashing against the stone edge with every gust of wind. The movement disguised any visibility deep below the water’s surface. Had it been a nice day, you would have been able to see deeper.

At the sight of a fish jumping above a wave, you lowered yourself to get a closer look, curiosity piqued. There was something, a shadow moving slowly beneath the whitecaps. The more it moved, the more fish jumped from the water. Shuffling to where people climbed out of the water, you cautiously took steps down, sitting on them to avoid losing balance.

The fish kept leaping above the waves before crashing into them again. As you got to the bottom and sat comfortably on the most extensive flat ledge, another rocketed from the shallow depths and launched itself at you. You screamed as the footlong creature landed in your lap, immediately soaking through your uniform.

It flopped around, wriggling and smacking you as it desperately tried to aim toward the water, but it was futile without any limbs to propel it off you. You grabbed it, shutting your eyes as it wobbled in your grip, risking a smack to your face. Holding it out, you hoped that once you let go, you and it would be free from each other’s presence.

You released your grip.

“Thanks!”

You screamed again. Thinking that suddenly you had fallen into a fairytale and accidentally kissed the fish like it were a prince disguised as a frog. But no.

“You’re a fish!”

“Not really,” Iwaizumi said, holding up your still squirming, scaly friend. “This is a fish.”

You coughed, trying to catch your breath. “You’ve got a tail!”

Pale blue, with a skin-like sheen similar to a dolphin, Iwaizumi’s torso stopped and turned into a long, finned tail of a merperson.

“I do.”

“You’re a fish.”

“A merman,” he huffed, brows pinching. He lowered his arm holding the fish, and raised the other, showing off a clam with a dark shell. “Were you looking for this?”

He seemed too relaxed. While you were feeling your heart pounding against your ribs, Iwaizumi waded in the water casually, with an almost bored expression.

“Uh, no. I was looking for you. You mentioned hunting for clams, so I thought….” you gulped, blinking. “Has this happened to you before?”

Iwaizumi huffed and swam forward, propping his elbows on the rock by your side. “Not to me. But a friend of mine can’t seem to keep himself out of trouble, so I’ve gotten used to the possibility that it could happen. You’re taking it much better than most, though. We usually have to erase their memory.”

You choked. “You can erase people’s memory?”

“No. But we can be very persuasive.”

His smile was too sharp, eyes curving with his cheeks.

“So…like a siren?”

“We’re the same, really.”

You shut your eyes, leaning back against the rock wall as you raised a hand to your chest so you could feel your racing heart.

“You still have the necklace.” Iwaizumi had his cheek pressed into his forearm, shoulders scrunched to his ears as he gave you a soft smile with pointed teeth. “Good.”

“Good? Should I be concerned?” You asked, fiddling with the pearl.

“Not if you don’t want to be.” He dropped the clam by your hip before pushing off the rock ledge. “Go to the beach tomorrow! I’ll be there. And don’t take off that necklace!”

Before you could ask anything else, he dove into the water, tail flicking up behind him. He was gone.

Post-secondary sucks. I wrote this a day before and the day of posting. It’s…. Probably gonna have a second part cause ya. - Bacon

Posted: 20/11/2022

#Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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pikmingrubb · 1 year

Text

Mike Ehrmantraut X Ftm! Reader

You get shot from a rival random drug gang, and Mike takes care of you.

Tags: blood and gore, gun violence, triggering themes, PTSD, kidnapping, gun wound, hospital things,

Word Count: 3,167

“Stop.” Nacho said firmly, “They see us, they’ll kill him,” he grabbed Mike’s arm, Mike looked like he wanted to deck Nacho and run ahead, but he stopped himself. It was too risky, he couldn’t just go in with guns blazing, he needed to wait it out and strategize. As much as he hated every second wasted, Nacho was correct.

Nacho gave Mike a stern look, eyes locking with his own, he watched the gears turn in Mike’s head. His lips pursed slightly, eyes averting Nacho’s as he pulled his arm from his grip, he stepped back and let himself cool down.

“We do this smart, and he gets out alive,” Nacho said quietly, following Mike back to his car, his colleague was silent as he popped the trunk and dug into his vehicle. He emerged with a large rifle case, swinging it over his shoulder and giving Nacho a little nod to follow him. “You can’t take them out with a rifle, there’s too many,” Nacho commented following his brisk pace.

“I’m not gonna fire a single shot, I’m gonna scout.” A low grovel came from the man in front of him, Nacho just furrowed his brow and shook his head while paced behind him.

Nacho was a little freaked, a rival meth dealer gang had taken you in hopes of expanding their territory by force, unfortunate for the small-time meth dealers. They had beaten a hornet's nest and brought out a goliath of a monster from the shadows. Nacho wasn’t sure they knew who they had roped up inside that room, perhaps a high-ranking member of the Salamancas?

No, it was just you, while you certainly did have ties to a large cartel boss, it wasn’t anything like they thought. You did happen to be chained to a very dangerous man with the experience of a small army. With any luck, they’d have a swift and painless death.

Mike thinking about you being locked in that room made his blood boil, you hadn’t done anything to warrant gang members even taking notice of you. Why did they happen to pick you? Were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Shame and guilt burned inside of him, he should have kept you safe, away from harm’s reach. He sighed deeply, unfortunately, nowhere was safe, he just wasn’t expecting you to get kidnapped.

Mike set his gun up and settled down on the ground. His eyes scraped over the area, taking note of how many cars and people were around. Too few, this place was deserted, everyone here was most likely in that room.

Mike blinked slowly, good . If he decided to start shooting, he didn’t have to worry about hurting an innocent, no blood of the lambs to be shed upon the hungry earth.

Nacho stayed quiet for a little, letting Mike think and plan. Nacho started to feel heat trickle down his spine, he felt sweat gather at his temples, this fucking heat never stops.

Nacho wiped a little sweat from his brow, his eyes were focused on the crummy hotel before him, watching for any movements or signs of life.

“What are you thinking?” Nacho interrupted Mike; his head pulled away from the scope to look at Nacho briefly.

“We wait.” His voice was curt and short, as usual . Nacho breathed out from his nose, wiping his eyes from sweat and trying to collect his thoughts.

“I can see that. I mean, what happens if shit goes south?” Nacho looked pointedly at him, irritation seeping into his words.

“It won’t happen,” Mike said firmly, he needed to believe it. He had to, or else he would blame himself for your death, another soul that slipped from his fingers because of his actions.

Nacho was about to let something else slip from his mouth before the sound of bullets ricocheting off various objects caught their attention. Nacho’s head whipped towards the sounds, horror pulling at his insides as he witnesses flashes of gunfire from inside the room you occupied.

Mike was back on the scope, desperately searching for an enemy within his range, his finger itched on the trigger. Faint yelling could be heard among the wild gunshots whizzing around inside the small hotel room.

The door suddenly flung open, a man backed out while aiming inside, Mike quickly targeted him. His finger squeezed the trigger, a thump bucked against his shoulder as he watched the man drop to the ground, a new hole had appeared in his head.

Nacho panicked beside him, watching with wide eyes, he crouched down as low as he could. His chest was pressed into the hard earth, and he felt absolutely worthless as a battle ensued before him.

Mike awaited with shallow breath, expecting another body to exit the doorframe, and to allow another bullet to rip from his barrel, but nothing. He listened intently, it was all crickets, the gunfire had ceased, and it was deathly silent. That’s what he feared the most.

Before Nacho could even say anything, Mike was up and walking towards the hotel, he pulled out a handgun from his belt. Nacho had no other choice but to pull his own metal as he quickly followed Mike, up in arms as they cautiously approached. The gaping black door allowed nothing inside to be perceived, its dark mouth swallowed everything in sight.

Mike trudged forward, he knew he’d find you in there, in what state was the question? A hole through your head? Body mangled by bullets, blood soaking through your clothing and spilling onto the ground, he shivered at the thought.

Mike gently stepped over the corpse outside, his hand steadied his shaking fingers as he looked down at the sight of his gun. The sound of footsteps stopped them both in their tracks, the harsh sun outside didn’t allow them to see the enemy that approaches slowly.

The hair on Mike’s arm raised, he felt his heartbeat speed up and the air crackled with tension. Nacho dared not breathe as the loud thumping of feet came out from the hotel room.

“Come out slowly, hands up,” Mike said calmly and loud enough for the person inside to hear, the steps stopped and processed his words carefully before continuing their trek outward. Mike squinted as a form appeared in the doorway, he immediately noticed a large kitchen knife branded in their hand, blood soaked the blade, and fingers stained with red.

A white button-up was splattered with red, large sprays of blood had soaked through, the wet fabric clinging to their body. Mike’s heart skipped a beat as he met with unknown eyes, a feeling seated inside him that felt foreign, the person he watched was unrecognizable. The amount of gore and blood sticking to them made them look deranged, their eyes held a similar feeling, a terrified animal unknowing of the scenario around them.

Their eyes met, but no relief was breathed, confusion and a cry for help was all Mike could see. Those eyes didn’t recognize him, he was just another threat to them, it broke his heart.

“Put the knife down, (Y/n).” Mike said softly, he saw a blank expression fade across your face, and you slowly bent down and released the tarnished silver onto the ground.

Your eyes never left him, you were terrified that as soon as you did, you’d be strung like a caught rabbit. Your only form of defense is gone. Why did you put the blade down?

“It’s okay.” Mike’s calm voice called out to you, he had long since lowered his weapon, and he approached you slowly. Arms out, showing he held nothing, you just watched him closely, your eyes snapping to the man behind him, the man slowly nodded his head in encouragement.

“You’re safe, I’m here to help.” He called gently, he saw your shoulders were tight and you avoided his direct gaze, hands shaking as you brought them closer to your midsection.

You let him get closer, his form within arm's reach, you cringed back in fear, closing your eyes as if that would protect you. His gentle touch reached your face, a gloved hand grabbing your chin and pulling your gaze towards him. He inspected you quietly, softly. You were like a young fawn in his hands, one wrong move and you’d skitter away, he needed to keep your trust.

You braved yourself enough to open your eyes, watching his calm face look into yours, you weren’t sure what emotions he was showing to you. You decided on the emotion was akin to sadness, deep and slashing, yet he tried to bring you comfort in this anguish.

“Are you hurt?” His voice called to you gently, his gloved hands had moved away from your jaw and slowly trailed down your body, gently brushing over your shoulders and inspecting your arms. You shook under his touch; you didn’t quite understand the words coming from him. Nothing in your brain was able to process vocals, your brain had entered trauma mode, and nothing felt real, your body just reacted to possible harm and everything else was ignored.

If you were conscious, it was locked behind several walls of emotional dampeners, trying to keep the bare minimum processors from burning themselves out because of stress.

Mike noticed your paranoid and confused look, he just continued searching your limbs for injuries, watching you closely for any signs of pain or if it was too much. His fingers stopped at your waist, brushing over a hole in your shirt, this brought a violent reaction from you. You pulled away and hissed in pain, a gasp choking out from you.

“N-No!” Was all you could choke out, tears welling in your eyes, Mike shushed you gently, trying to quell your quickly building fear.

He beckoned Nacho closer as he grabbed your arm gently, keeping you from wriggling out of his grasp, Nacho approached you slowly. He said a few words to you, all of which you ignored as you solely focused on the man in front of you.

“Stay still, we need to check your wound,” Mike said, struggling to keep it light so as not to spook you further. While one hand grabbed your arm the other caressed the side of your face, trying to calm you down.

Nacho leaned in closer, his fingers peeled back your shirt as gently as possible, it stuck to your body from dried blood as he removed it. Nacho breathed out a slow exhale, sure enough, there was a seeping bullet wound. He looked at your backside, seeing an exit wound as well.

“Bullet, it went straight through. It was close enough to the outside I don’t think it nicked anything,” Nacho said calmly, his eyes gazing up at Mike as he continued to inspect you for any more wounds.

You tried staying as still as possible as they looked over you, Mike’s hand still grabbing you, less painfully as you stopped trying to wriggle free of him. Nacho stood back up and shook his head “no” , he hadn’t found anything else major on you other than the abdominal wound from the bullet.

“(Y/n),” Mike brought your attention back to him, your eyes darting back from Nacho to gaze at him.

“We need to bring you to a doctor to patch you up, you’re hurt.” He explained to you slowly, your eyes read over his face for a moment before looking away. Mike still wasn’t sure if you understood him, but you were more relaxed around them now, so hopefully it wouldn’t be an issue.

Mike decided to lead you to his car while Nacho poked around the inside of the hotel, searching for anyone still alive. Nacho cleared the place out within a few minutes after inspecting everything, the sight inside was quite gruesome. He inspected all the bodies, seeing large gashes in a few and one with his neck sliced open slumped over a couch. Blood had completely saturated the inside of the room, and no amount of scrubbing would hide the stains of blood in the room.

Forever a print of some horrifying crime scene here, Nacho’s nose burned at the smell of iron soaking into his sinuses, he let out a slow breath as he exited the room. He had no fucking clue how you managed to maim four guys in such close proximity, the fifth one taken out by Mike’s rifle in the entryway.

He headed back over to the car to check on Mike dealing with you, he had gotten you into the car and safely patched up the wound as best he could. Professionals would have to take care of the rest, he had no tools to even begin appropriately patching you up.

You looked pale sitting there, Nacho wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss or what, but you looked like shit. Mike gave Nacho a brief look before clipping the seatbelt into place and securing you in, “Sit back here, I want you to keep an eye on him.” He said giving a sigh and leaving to enter the driver's side.

Nacho slid into the back passenger seat, he watched you sway lightly, eyes glazed over, and your face contorted in pain. As soon as Nacho was buckled in you slumped over onto him, head resting against his shoulder, Nacho almost jumped a little. He wasn’t quite expecting you to lean on him, he blinked rapidly and raised his arm to tentatively circle around your shoulders, keeping you in place against him.

He knew a bumpy ride was ahead, no point in letting your almost unconscious body flail about in the back of the car, Mike would appreciate Nacho being gentle around you. Not to mention Nacho didn’t want to even think of any harsh backlash from the old man, he had enough problems, the last thing he needed was a rifle barrel shoved up his ass for being inconsiderate.

The beginning of the drive was dead silent, with no music to calm any nerves, just stagnant air as the whole scenario was being processed. Nacho almost wanted to talk about it, and ask questions, but he knew better than to say anything. He just stared out the window, occasionally looking down at you to see your chest gently rise and fall. Indicating you had not left the world of the living, your body had fallen into silence, Nacho questioned at one point if maybe you had fallen asleep against him. No, your eyes stayed open, that look of anguish hadn’t for a moment left your face, the slight bumps in the road made you groan in pain.

Nacho wasn’t expecting to show up at a hospital, he was guessing some back-alley cartel doctor, but nothing like this. He felt a little out of place, unsure of what exactly to say or do, but when Mike stopped the car in front of the hospital entrance doors, his body moved on its own.

He gently coerced you out from the passenger seat, Mike had gone to retrieve a wheelchair for your limp body. Nacho noticed the stares of patients and nurses immediately being drawn to your bloodied body, asking questions and giving demands to the other nearby nurses to check the patient into the emergency department.

Mike followed behind giving as many answers as he could, blood type, what was the injury, how long had you had it. Once the initial panic had settled down, and you had a blood bag draining into your IV and medicine being administered.

Mike spoke to the nurses coming in and out, running an ultrasound and checking the wound, they thus ordered a CT scan for any internal bleeding of any of the other organs. Nothing, it was clean, you sat inside the ED while Mike waited on Doctor’s orders to staple you up and keep you for observation and then ship you home.

Nacho wasn’t any help, he didn’t know a damn thing about you, all questions were directed towards Mike, he was just here for moral support. After a couple of hours had passed, Nacho decided everything was alright, and he could leave you in Mike’s hands for the rest.

You weren’t even sure what time it was; you had been snoozing lightly when a nurse came into the room and woke you up for a quick checkup while he did his rounds.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, looking at your vitals and charting them down, you were actually aware of the things going on around you. You felt a little funny, and numb, but aware. Which was better than earlier, part of yourself still seemed to feel a little disconnected, but Mike near you seemed to calm you down.

“Thirsty…” You croaked out slowly, your frame slumped against the backboard, the nurse chuckled a little, “Yeah, losing blood will do that to ya,” he commented gently, “I can bring you a cup to fill if you’d like. You won’t be here much longer either, everything so far has been good news, considering.” He looked between both you and Mike.

“Mr. Ehrmantraut?” He addressed Mike lightly, Mike just nodded his head for him to continue, “The Doctor has some paperwork and just some care sheets for the patient. It’s just some information for the healing process and how to tell if anything becomes infected.” He said, his voice indicating this was very normal for him, just another Tuesday afternoon. He handed him a sizable stack of papers and something for him to sign, Mike didn’t say anything as he scribbled a signature on the release form.

“Remember, change the bandages twice daily. Avoid getting the wound wet for the next few days, if you have any issues just come in and we’ll give it a look over.” He stated giving him a quick ‘thank you’ as he left the room.

“I’ll bring in a wheelchair for you, I’ll be back in about an hour.”

He just let out a giant sigh, he looked over at you, watching you closely with a warm look. “You feeling alright?” He said quietly, this was the first thing he had been able to ask you the entire time. All the rest was filled with medical-oriented questions or you falling asleep and resting.

“I’m really tired, I feel like I could sleep for weeks…” You spoke slowly, body already slipping back into the warm fuzzy feeling of sleep. Today was too much to process, you needed rest.

“We’ll be home soon, and you can rest all you need,” Mike assured you gently, you just nodded your head as you slipped into sleep against the shitty hospital bed.

Mike just continued to watch the rise and fall of your chest, worry digging into him still, you would heal. It wouldn’t be easy for you mentally for a bit, but he’ll be by your side for anything you’ll need, he promised you that much.

#BCS fan fic #Mike Ehrmantraut x reader #Mike Ehrmantraut x ftm!reader #Trans masc reader #ftm reader #Mike Ehrmantraut #Better Call Saul fan fic #tw #tw blood #this one was especially fun to write because i love medical bs

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