#could barely write correctly too excited
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havockingboo · 8 months ago
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IM GONNA BE SO FUCKING SICK . . ….THE MONKEY WRNECH PATREON UPDATE. ITS SINKING IN.
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leaawrites · 1 month ago
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I have so many short & sweet videos on my fyp right now. I can’t stop thinking about singer!reader announcing her f1 bf by arresting him and dedicating Juno to him like Sabrina does at her concerts. The fans would go wild!!! I’m desperate for this fic
Juno (Live from the Shrot n'Sweet Tour)
Lando Norris x fem!singer!reader
Summary: requested as above.
Wordcount: 0.6k
Warnings: (very) suggestive content, smau (a first time for me, i hope it's alright), flirting, fluff
Note: omgg, this is such an good idea! I loved writing it! I chose Lando bc, I just love writing for him, hope that's alright with you. If not, let me know and I'll (gladly) make another version.
Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series
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“If you haven’t already noticed,” Y/n announced, making the crowd go quiet to hear her talk. “We have a special guest tonight in the crowd.”
The moment the words left her lips and the camera panned to the guy in the audience, beaming up at her with the biggest smile one could muster, the crowd went wild. Lando was just laughing at the reaction.
Everyone there knew how big of an f1 fan Y/n was. Having attended some grand prixs already and posting her reactions to every race on her insta story, she didn’t try to make her love for the sport unknown.
The camera went back to the woman on stage, sirens going off and making everyone know what would happen next. It was a common tradition on the tour. But now, it was different when she said, “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid you’re under arrest for being too hot.”
The way she winked at him and from how red he got at the mere eye contact with her, made it obvious this wasn’t mindless flirting. This was proper natural behavior for them.
“That hot, formula 1 driver I have absolutely no relation to.” She pointed out at the crowd. “You know who I mean, right? Of course, you do.” She nodded in approval at the crowd as they clapped and shouted in excitement. They were there for the show and boy, were they going to give them one.
“Sorry, what was your name again?” She asked innocently, holding the microphone in his direction.
Instead of one answer, she got thousands. All calling one name: Lando.
“Oh, okay. Okay,” she said after genuinely being surprised by the amounts of answers she received.
“Lando, gosh,” she continued talking, waving her hand in front of her face like she was trying not to faint. “Lando.” She mused his name, making it melt on her tongue like it was the most beautiful thing she heard.
She didn’t need to ask, but a script is a script. “Lando, where are you from?”
“Monaco,” he shouted back this time.
“Monaco? So, you’re rich?” He nodded. “And you came all the way here to see me?”
“Only for you.”
“Only for me? You’re too much. Stop it.” Waving her hand at him, as a blush graced her face and she scrunched up her nose. “You’re doing things to me, boy. I can’t even.”
Before she could keep on rambling, her backup dancer opened the back of her once long skirt making it fall down, revealing a shorter version. She stepped out of it, saying, “Oh my god, my clothes are falling of for you. This is embarrassing.”
She heard his voice again, a flirty comment leaving his lips: “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time?” She repeated, trying to see if she heard him correctly. When he nodded, she could see the confidence building up inside of him more and more. He wasn’t as nervous about this anymore as he was backstage before the show. Overthinking and stressing about how the fans would react to it. “Oh, you’re right about that.”
The crowd went wild again. Screaming louder than ever before.
“So, I guess,” she started talking, taking the fluffy pink handcuffs from another one of her backup dancers. “Could you maybe keep them for the rest of the show? Just so, I don’t loose them for later.” She winked at him again, starting to laugh when she saw him bury his face in his hands out of embarrassment.
She could barely still hear herself over the screams of the fans.
“Anyway, I’d like to dedicate this next song to my boyfriend, Lando Norris.”
And then the song began, the crowd going crazy and she couldn’t stop smiling. Everyone knew, finally. They knew and she made it official in a way only she could.
Lando Norris
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Yep, this is my girlfriend. No more of that Lando Norizz bullshit.
yourusername: babe, what the fuck is that last picture?
yourusername: love you though, i guess
-> LandoNorris: you guess? Didn’t seem like that last night, huh?
-> yourusername: omg, shut up. This isn't a public account concersation.
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skeletonapricationday · 1 year ago
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Collaboration
Dead dove do not eat
I do not condone any of these actions and neither should you. This is purely fantasy. Do not forget that.
Warnings: blood kink, choking (gone a little far), bondage bench, face fucking, knotted genitals (fox pp), dark web streaming, recorded sex, and too many more to count.
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Minors dni
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You move around your messy warehouse excitedly and nervously. All the cameras placed perfectly, even a few mics placed caustiously as to not be in view. You walk over to your computer screens, their bright lights the only lights in the room. They shine on your face as you slip the mask on. Securing it tight. The familiar feeling of power surging through you.
1...2...3...Action!
"Hey my little degenerates! Cobra here today with a very exciting stream." You see the chats and views roll in quickly. The followers you've gained over the years quick to join.
'A new exciting stream! We've missed you Cobra' one writes. 'I've been so lonely without my favorite whore.' Another chimes in. All types of messages on your screens.
"Awee you've missed me. That's so cute." You say, your lips curling into a foul smile. The mask covered the top half of your face, leaving your plump round mouth as the only thing in view. "I missed yall too, but you won't regret why I've been gone for so long...today we have a very exciting guest. Can yall guess who it is?" You ask sickly sweet.
'A guest? Is it a new toy?' A chatter asks. 'No, she never introduces her toys this way.' Another correctly assumes. 'Could it be another streamer?'
"Oh my. You've gone from cold to burning hot chat. You're close~" You purr. Waiting for them to catch on. "C'mon yall begged for this. You should know!" You say fake pouting. Setting up a silent hype for your viewers.
Suddenly the door opens behind you, setting your nerves ablaze. You've never met him before, but you've seen his streams. Always quick to jump in and even tip him. You look over as he stands out of the cameras view, slowly putting on his mask. He's so quick you didn't get to see his face. "Guys! Your surprise is here." You giggle standing. Walking over to him, flaunting your hips as you walk for the camera.
The man barks out a laugh. "My, you seem more excited than your chat." He says in that usual mechanical tone you've come to love.
"Can't help it, I'm also a fan yknow." You giggle nervously.
You can hear the chat going wild. Some already catching on from his voice alone, and others left in utter confusion. You toy with the stockings on your lingire nervously. Wondering what to say or do, but you quickly go back to being professional.
He walks slowly into the frame, walking straight up to a camera. "Hey chat- did you miss me too?" He asks expertly, his reveal making the fans go nuts.
'No way! Cobra did it!' 'I wanna be her, I've always wanted to meet Fox.' 'Shut up and just enjoy this!' The chat goes wild, sending in tips before the show even starts.
You walk over and playfully grab Fox's arm, pulling it close to your barely clothed chest. "Isn't this just exciting! Who knew you'd ever respond to little ol' me." You tease, looking into his cold eyes.
"I'm not dumb enough to reject such an offer! I'm sure plenty would kill to be in my place." He teases back, quick on his feet. "Though I'm sorry for the time crunch, I wish we could've met behind the scenes first." He says earnestly, like he's also excited for this show.
"It's no problem. We're both busy people." You purr out like honey. Voice more animalistic than the fox being in front of you. Excited merely at the thought of this shoot.
He wrenches his arm out of your grasp, grabbing your waist with it. His sharp nails caressing your bare side. "I hate making pretty woman wait, especially when they're famous. Should we get to it?" He asks, then looks back the screen. Fans biting their nails eagerly for this.
This was it. You're a famous gore streamer yourself, frequently buying from Fox's underground trade. Breaking toy after toy. You even did a few streams of just yourself, a nice toy, and a knife, those seem to be the fans favorites. They want to see you in a reversed position. Used the same way you use others. You're pulled out of your thoughts by a harsh grip.
His nails now digging into your side, small spots of blood pouring down from the small puncture wounds. You hiss and groan, receiving a small chuckle in return. "Now now- we haven't even started. Can't have you zoning out...yet." He says, a dark looming foreshadow. You blush under your mask and look at him.
"Sorry I'm a tad nervous. I'm not exactly used to handing over my reigns." You say like an announcer, trying to keep the act up for the fans. He simply looks humored as he pulls his hand away. When he does you quickly show off to the camera the small cresant shaped injuries. Nothing major, not even worse than what you've done to yourself. Simply telling of what's to come.
"So I've brought something special, since I'm being gifted such a special toy." He purrs, walking over and opening a suitcase. Inside is a choke chain you've seen on stream before. "Don't worry doll, that's just the beginning." He hums out. Pulling out the chain and placing it aside. Underneath is a peculiar looking stick. You don't know what it is until he pulls it out, it's a cane. Long, hard, and sturdy. The perfect tool to get yelps out of someone. You gulp nervously, unsure of this, but also entirely sure.
He walks over and grabs your bandage bench, setting it up to fit you. Hooking the choke chain into the ceiling above it. If he wasn't wearing a mask you could swear he was smirking. "Do you understand the plan now doll?" He asks darkly with a honeyed undertone. You nod slowly and understanding. Seeing that the play has already begun.
You look at the camera and pretend to fan your face. "Geez chat it feels like it's already gotten hot in here!" You beam. Feeling Fox come behind you, running his hands up and down your sides.
"I think it's just you." He says into your ear, gripping onto your breast in front of the camera. Pushing them together for the viewers pleasure before teasing your nipples through the lace. Getting a small moan from you. "Afterall, what a cute little outfit. Is this all for me?" He barks out curiously, running his hands down to your thighs. Wiggling and playing with them like a cat.
"Of course it's for you silly. Gotta put on my best wear right?" You respond right back, trying to keep your confidence.
He whispers low into your ear, so quiet the microphones can't pick it up. He's speaking just for you. "Perfect darling. Perfect. Because I'm going to destroy you." He then looks at the camera and crinkles his eyes innocently. He grabs your throat, squeezing lightly.
You gasp as your airflow is weakened, not completely restricted. "Now where do we start with a little inexperienced thing like you?" He quips to the camera. Reading off chat requests till one catches his eye.
'Just strip her already and put her in that chair. I wanna see a Dom squeal.' He laughs at the chatter. Turning your head so you can see the message too. "You hear that doll? Your cute little fans wanna see you turned into a mess. Normally we'd do some kind of light play before getting into the meat of the show but...I can see you're too tantalizing for that." His grip on your throat tightens. Completely cutting off your ability to breathe.
You struggle a bit, surprised by his harsh grip. He only lets out a huff through his nose and squeezes tighter. Causing you to feel a small ring like bruise form on your precious skin. He lets go.
You fall to the floors coughing, holding the concrete floor as a life line. He picks up a camera and zooms it in on your face. "We've only just started and she's already sputtering. Are you sure you aren't just a bottom in disguise?' He asks curiously, running his boot up your thigh, pressing painfully into it.
"Nope, I'm a switch, Fox. Never claimed to be a dom." You giggle out cockily. Looking through the holes of your mask defiantly. Rubbing your throat to ease the pain of the mark, feeling wetness pool at your thighs. His harsh and unloving gaze already turning you on.
"Doesn't mean anything if you're still pathetic." He says, barking out another laugh. Taking his boot off your thigh he notions towards the bdsm bench. Telling you to get ready to be strapped in.
You slowly stand and walk to it. The bandage bench forcing you into a downward dog position. He straps you in carefully, till you can only move your head back and forth, and mildly rock your hips. "You look better positioned like the bitch you are." He says looking down at you. Putting the choke chain around your neck, forcing you to keep your head up. One wrong move and the nails would pierce through your throat, rendering you dead.
"I'm not a dog." You say in a bratty tone. Smirking at him like 'what are you gonna do about it.'
"Sure you are." He smiles, running a cold gloved hand down your back all the way to your ass. Goosebumps forming whereever he touches. He quickly brings a hand down to your ass causing you to yelp. "See? You just barked." He giggles out. Entertained by your shattering ego.
"I don't bark, I moan get it right." You huff in response, rolling your eyes. He can't see it since he's behind you, but you're sure he catches it in one of the several viewfinders. Your kinky play broadcasted to thousands. It makes you grow wetter at the thought, and distracts you enough for Fox to surprise you
A sudden blinding pain vibrates through your body. Starting at your ass and zapping all the way up your spine. You whimper when it subsides. "What is-?" You shout confused.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten? I even showed you." He purrs behind you. Rubbing over the mark on your ass, soothing it with his cold palm. "That's one."
"On-one?" You stutter. Keeping your head painfully up despite the urge to hang your head in pain. "How many are you gonna do Fox." Suddently you scream in pain again.
"Wrong." He states coldly. "Whats my name?" He asks.
You bite your bottom lip in thought but come up blank."Fox-its Fox- AAA." Another slap of the cane.
"Fox is only when you're human." He coos. "And right now you're a toy. What do toys say?" He hums, tapping his nails on your back expectantly.
"Daddy..." You hush out quietly.
"Say it proudly or you've earned another." He grabs the back of your hair, forcing your head even further upward. "Say it, slut."
"Daddy!" You shout, tears pricking your eyes under your mask. You hear a laugh behind you and he lets your head go. Leaving you to hold yourself up.
"Good girl!" He says proudly, a lustful tone underneath. "See it wasn't that hard...but I am." He jokes to the camera. Looking right into the lens like a famous actor.
"You're hard?" You ask excitedly. Your ego lighting aflame in your chest. You made Fox hard. You've won. You did it.
"You don't believe me?" He says with a fake pout. Rubbing his cock against your ass. "Do you believe me now?" He says, rutting his hips a tad, groaning at the clothed contact.
"Yes daddy." You purr. Feeling it twitch in his pants, his tip probably already soaking wet just like you. "I'm wet~" You respond.
You yelp when the cane comes back down on you, this time hitting your thigh. It's difficult to keep your head up on your own through the fire but you manage. "I don't need a naughty girl stating the obvious. Do I?" He ask retortically, not looking for a real answer. He's looking for submission.
"No daddy. You don't." You whine, biting your bottom lip.
"Behave and you'll get rewarded, so will your fans." He hums, a smile in his voice. He walks in front of you and removes the choke chain. Letting you finally hang your head limply, giving your neck a rest. He tsks his tongue "No, no baby. That isn't why I freed you. You got a show to put on!" He says micheviously, like he's reprimanding a toddler.
"What do I do daddy?" You say trying to convince yourself to look up, no matter how limp you felt.
You hear the pop of buttons and that gets your attention. Looking up at him through blurry eyes, blinking rapidly. "So that catches your attention huh?" He teases. He rubs his claw against your bottom lip, smearing your blood from earlier on it. "Open. Do a good job and you won't get the cane for the rest of the night."
'That's right, treat her like the whore she is!' 'This is the best show yet!' 'I'm so glad I paid for this.' Echos of chats and tips come in, but they simply bounce off your blurry mind.
You open your lips slowly, feeling his knotted tip entering your mouth. Jaw being stretched impossibly wide. You hiss at the angle but open your mouth further, allowing him to push in the rest. "Remember, no teeth doll. I feel a single tooth and I'll pull them out of your skull." He beams cheerily. Throwing his head back with a groan as he slides in and out of your wet tight mouth. "It's like you were made for this." He says with a smirk in his wavering tone. His voice gravely, but his groans higher pitched.
You can't properly respond so you hum around him. Sending pleasurable vibrations through his dick. "Oh yea that's it doll. Fuck." He curses and looks back down at you. Making direct eye contact through your mask.
You whine around him, feeling your throat painfully restrict on every thrust. His tail swishing from side to side behind him, betraying his cold gaze and revealing his excitement. You move your tongue around rapidly, hoping it'll make him cum. Wanting nothing more than to feel his salty seed pour down your throat. He starts to thrust faster. Holding you by your hair to angle himself better. "That's it. Take it. Fucking take it." He repeats his words as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth. The veins pulsing more and more, tipping you off that he'll cum soon. You suck harder, desperate. "I'm going cum- that's it. Imma' pour my cum right down your throat. You want that baby?" He urges. Almost like you could say yes. You can't speak so you hum again and that sends him over the edge. Cum painting the inside of your neck. The thick liquid clinging to the walls, almost gagging you. He pulls out slowly with a relieved sigh. You cough and sputter, drool and a little bit of cum leaking down your chin.
"My, my don't you just look pretty. Let's see how wet you've become huh?" You look at him blushed, not wanting him to see the mess you've made. He walks behind you and laughs, gently slapping the side of your ass. "Wow, you really enjoyed that didn't you. Do you often dream of being a cocksleeve?"
You think of lying, but his cold sharp gaze can be felt behind you. You decide against it, clearing your throat. "Yes daddy. I do." He barks out another laugh.
"I made her suck me so hard I made her an honest woman." He teases cockily. Proud of everything. He rubs a hand against your still clothed folds. Collecting slick even through the fabric. You hear lick and slurping behind you, he was cleaning it off his hand. He was tasting you, and he moaned while doing it. "Geez, wish we could bottle this taste."
"That wouldn't sell well daddy." You joke back, he chuckles.
"On the contrary, I think it would be top teir on the sales chart." He giggle and rips your panties in half. Leaving your aching hole in the open, the cold air making you clench around nothing. "I don't even wanna bother preparing you, I mean you're already so wet. What's the point."
"You can just enter daddy...please." You whine, rocking your hips purposefully. Begging to finally get your rocks off after all this pain.
"Whatever you say, don't complain if it's a tight fit." He says proudly, stroking his own ego.
You feel the tip of his cock slip through your folds, teasing and collecting wetness. He even slaps the tip against your clit a few times, earning hefty short moans from your lips. "Daddy please!" You shout and as soon as you do he enters. Painfully stretching you open, filling up your aching cunt all too quickly. You cry and sob out a moan. A mixture of pain and pleasure as his hips meet your abused ass. His balls slapping against your clit.
"This is one tight cunt." He growls approvingly, like he was rating it. Slowly slipping in and out again. Actually giving you a few thrusts to adjust. You moan out babbles of thank you and daddy. "Oh baby I'm not gonna be nice, it just feels like I'm going to break in half. You got one beast of a pussy baby." He chuckles out.
He starts slamming back into you at an impossible speed, each thrust earning a yelp and moan. You whine as his tip kisses your cervix with each aching movement. Your thighs already shaking like you're going to cum. "Not so soon~" He purrs between his own moan. "Daddy has gotta get close first." He says cockily. Leaning down and sniffing your neck. "God you smell so fucking arousing!"
You moan and press your hips back against him, begging nonverbally for more. "Daddy please m' needa cum. Gotta cum daddy please-" You pant out. Bucking and trashing in the bondage bench desperately. More drool dripping down your already coated jaw. Each inahle you can taste his cum again, it only heightens your senses. "Daddy-daddy!" You shout.
"Just a little longer baby mm." He responses softly despite his animalistic pace. "You're gonna take it, and take it, and take it till I tell you otherwise." He punctuates every word with a sharp thrust. Fucking you deep and fast, not even pulling out completely. Every slap of his balls on your clit causing you to scream, tears falling down your face.
" 'mma cum 'mma cum I can't I can't-" You sob out, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him. You hear a deep gravely sound pull out of him. He leans down into your shoulder and you hear his mask unclip. He bites harshly into your shoulder, blood dripping down onto the floor in front of you. You scream loudly, clenching again. He licks and laps at the wound, hiding his face from the public in your skin.
"Look into the fucking camera when you cum." You hear him put his mask back on. A strong hand gripping the base of your jaw, forcing you to look up. "Cum slut, now." He hisses between clenched teeth.
You do, the whole world turning white. Your walls spasming like crazy on his dick. Squirting onto the floor, his pants, and cock. Clear liquid streaming out of you. The world feels blurry and unreal as all the pleasure hits you. You don't even know if you're moaning, maybe you're talking but you don't know. It all feels too good, it's feels too too good.
"That's it. That's fucking it doll. Cum on daddy." He growls. Shooting hot ropes of seed inside you, burying himself in your cunt. Each pulse is another round of cum slipping out of him and into you. If you weren't on the pill you'd be pregnant for sure. "God I could fucking breed you. Whore." He hisses as he pulls out. Cum dripping down your abused folds.
You chuckle cockdrunk, drool leaking out of your mouth uncontrollably. "Hehe daddy~" You purr.
The lights of all the cameras shut off as you see the room grow darker. He had ended the stream. You're unhooked from the bench and fall right into his arms. He pulls your mask off and his too, bringing you in and kissing you deep. Your blood on his tongue and the taste of his cum of yours. It was like lightning.
"Let's see how good you preform off stream." You hear the dark voice as you fade out of consciousness. Passing out.
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kayentokk · 10 months ago
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Could you write about aizawa having a younger sister or daughter in his class (or 1-B) and have some sort of angst to/or fluff with them? Thank youu <333
A/N;I have no excuses 😔 I’m so sorry this took me forever 😭. I really love the idea of an older brother Aizawa!! Dad too ofccc so maybe I’ll do a dad version of this later! I did it in like a headcannon style for part of this so hope ya don’t mind. Thank you for this request anon, and I hope you enjoy! 💕
Pairing; (platonic)Brother!Aizawa x Fem!Reader
Contains;age gap between reader and Aizawa is at least 10 years, platonic brother Aizawa, protective Aizawa, angst to fluff, sibling bond, pick your own quirk,
Wc; 1,134
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Older-Brother!Aizawa who you used to be super close with growing up. He was your best friend and super caring towards you. But after U.A and becoming a hero he changed.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who became more distant and closed off, despite being the only parental figure in your life. You mom and dad were there, but not there. He was the one who fed you and taught you important core values, he was the one who loved you.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who, in your hopes of getting back close with, you beg to move in with. And promise to be on your best behavior and not bother him at all.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who gives in and moves you in with him.
Older-Brother!Aizawa Who is not as excited as you thought he’d be to know you made it into U.A High. He swallows thickly almost as if holding himself back and then he just gives you a non-enthusiastic ‘good job.’ Maybe it wasn’t good enough for him…
Older-Brother!Aizawa who barely even smiles when you tell him you made it into class 1-A. You were so excited, your brother, the person you admire most was going to be your teacher! But with his reaction, maybe he didn’t want you in his class….
Older-Brother!Aizawa who marks you off on the littlest things and is constantly correcting you. You thought you executed your strategy correctly, you had successfully eliminated the practice robot thingy with minimal damage to yourself and your surroundings. But according to your brother, you had been ‘extremely reckless and over confident.’ You just wanted to show him you could do it, maybe you couldn’t…
Older-Brother!Aizawa who used to be close to you and despite growing apart you never allowed yourself to believe he hated you. Maybe you should have…
Older-Brother!Aizawa who you overhear having a heated conversation with principal Nezu about expelling you.
“Shota, let’s be more reasonable about this-“
“No, you have to, I can’t stand-“
Older-Brother!Aizawa who hates you. You’re absolutely sure of it now. You stand right outside the door absolutely choked up, not even wanting to listen to his explanation about how he can’t stand you.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who hears a choked sob come from outside. He turns towards the noise to see your teary eyes through the slight crack of the mahogany door right before you run away embarrassed. Your own brother didn’t think you were good enough.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who is internally panicking. Why were you crying outside the door? Did you overhear? What did you hear? How much did you hear? Why were you even there? More importantly, where the hell were you running to?
Older-Brother!Aizawa who can’t wallow in questions and self-pity. He has to find you.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who is searching the whole city for you. He’s looked everywhere. Your favorite cafe, all the way across town, that he secretly goes to every morning to get your tea, the library that you always go to when you’re frustrated and need some much needed relaxation, the gym in case you wanted to blow off some steam. Everywhere, he has searched everywhere.
Older-Brother!Aizawa, who, even though has been searching for at least 2 hours in the rain, is not giving up on finding you.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who wanders into a convenience store to buy your favorite snacks for when he finds you, knowing you’ll be hungry since you left right before lunch.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who’s never been more happy to see you at the register digging in your pockets to find some change to buy…onigiri, his favorite?
Older-Brother!Aizawa who comes behind you and gently sets the money on the counter.
Older-Brother!Aizawa who you don’t even have to look at to notice the familiar scent and gruff gentleness of.
Older-Brother!Aizawa, who, having been relived to find you, realized you might not be so relieved to see him. Especially when you try to make a bolt for the door.
“Stop,” he says grabbing your arm, “please. Stop.”
The trek back to your shared apartment was silent. You should’ve just ran, you thought to yourself. It would’ve been a lot easier than this awkward silence that fills the kitchen now.
You get up to walk away and he speaks, “I don’t know what to say.”
You simply turn and stare, blinking, almost blankly into space.
“Im not sure what you heard- or what you think you may have heard. But I assure you-“
“What? That you don’t want me expelled?”
“It’s not like that Y/n-“ he tries to explain.
“So how is it then Shota?” You say, quite frankly tired of this whole ordeal.
“I-“ his voice falters for a moment, and you make a ‘tch’ before trying to continue your exit. Then, a voice so quiet, you wouldn’t have even heard it if not for the silence of the kitchen, says, “I love you.”
Your heart drops into your stomach and shatters into a million pieces, it’s been so long since you’ve heard him utter those words. But you’re so confused, what does that have to do with him wanting you expelled?
“Wh-what?”
“I love you Y/n. You’re my sister, and I don’t want you going down the same path I did.”
“You’re a great hero Shota, what do you mean-“
“I mean, I don’t want you to go through your life endlessly saving people and running yourself out. It’s tiring, Y/n, taxing. I want you to have fun and actually be a child, instead of worrying about everyone else’s safety.”
You sigh and move closer to him, “why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I don’t know y/n-“ he says running a hand through his hair exhaustedly, “I guess I wanted to be the older brother you always looked up to. I wanted to be strong for you.” As he says it he laughs, it’s a ridiculous thing to say but it’s how he feels.
“Shota, you know I never meant-“
“I know, but I still felt that way.”
“You never have to prove yourself to me, you could have the most boring office job and I’d still look up to you. You’re my older brother,” you said with a matter of fact tone and a shrug.
Those words did so much for him, and before you could even blink he had wrapped you in a warm embrace.
“Thank you,” he said burying his face into your shoulder.
Of course you guys would talk more later but right now what you both needed was comfort, more importantly, comfort in each other. You plan to work on your relationship once more, especially since you knew it wasn’t because he hated you now, and more importantly you were going to heal.
Older-Brother!Aizawa, who’s trying.
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@/cafekitsune for the divider
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jadedxhearts · 7 months ago
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𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝
Law and you have spent far too much time apart, intimately. When you think you’re going to lose your mind from desperation, he finally gives in, a certain “cure” in mind to treat you.
Originally posted in Oct 8 2023
Please note that this is an old work and isn't representative of my current writing skills! (this one might be slighter better?)
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It was difficult to not notice the various things that had set off certain alarms in your mind. Not to say those alarms were concerning nor bad in nature, no.
It started during a routine check up, about two weeks ago. You were sat in a chair in the operation room aboard the Polar Tang, allowing Law to do whatever he needed to check your general health. He’d taken your temperature, other vitals, the basics. But it was when he’d began feeling around your neck, presumably for your lymph nodes, that a shudder went down your spine. 
For one short moment, his hand had wrapped around your neck as though he was possessively holding onto you, much like he did during… other times. Law had been so busy these days, constantly working hard to make sure his submarine was being run correctly and efficiently. He tended to be this way, always, but as of lately, things seemed more hectic on the ship. You really couldn’t come up with an answer why, though.
However, these long working hours for your lover meant that he generally didn’t have much time to spare. Especially not for things such as sex. Your body longed for him, your fingers proving to not be enough. You’d tried to be cool about it, using body language and longing looks to try and get your message across. But Law either seemed too tired, or downright uninterested. You could tell by his mannerisms, though, especially during the checkup, that he longed for you too.
So when his hand had just barely wrapped around your neck, leaving you gasping for air as if he’d choked you, all feelings went straight down between your legs, your heart pounding as you became too excited too quickly. But your routine checkup wasn’t over, and Law had already moved on from his ‘accident’. 
But then another thing happened not even five minutes later. His gloved hands kept grazing your body, touch lingering for much longer than it should have. Again and again, these things kept happening, turning you on even more; making you more desperate for the doctor’s touch.
You’d tried to initiate that evening, but Law was exhausted, barely making an effort to kick off his boots and change into pajama pants before he’d promptly collapsed into bed. 
And now here you were, two entire weeks later, still having gone unsatisfied. You honestly struggled, having to go about your day as normal, meanwhile your brain remained filled with images of Law doing certain things to you. His tattooed chest glistening as he hovered over you, shoving your body down into the pillows as he filled you up so deliciously, among other images of past times with him. God, you needed him so badly.
You were curled up in bed, hugging a pillow tightly as you tried to fall asleep, trying to not lose your sanity as you pushed away any lewd thoughts about Law. It was so, so difficult, though. The pillow was slipping down between your legs as you clung to it, the plushness of it brushing against where you yearned for Law most. Eventually, it was in a spot where you could rub yourself against it, if you so wished. The thought seemed so dirty, and you couldn’t help but hope Law would walk into the bedroom and catch you as you began to move your hips, biting your lip harshly as you slowly humped the pillow.
But then you were interrupted, practically throwing the pillow away from yourself as the den-den-mushi on your nightstand began to ring. Calming yourself down, you answered it with a click, only to be surprised as Law’s voice came through.
“Y/n? You awake?” He asked, voice sounding… off. You couldn’t quite figure it out, though.
“Yes,” you choked out, feeling your heart hammering in your chest as you breathed heavily. Maybe he’d hear how desperate you were and come back to bed.
“Meet me in the operation room,” he instructed, and you now noticed how seductively he spoke. It made your cunt throb, and you obliged happily, already leaping out of the bed. 
You hadn’t even responded to him. You’d honestly forgotten to through your excitement, rushing out of your bedroom to sprint over to the operation room. After all, there could only be one reason why Law was in there, demanding you to meet him there at this hour.
Opening the doors to the large room, you discovered Law leaning against the table, arms folded in front of his chest as he smirked down at you. The tall man wore his doctor's coat over a tank top and his usual jeans. The other key differences were that his hat was removed, sitting on a counter nearby where he stood. And the other two things being that he had on gloves, as well as the fact that there was a not so hidden bulging in his jeans. He looked painfully hard, even through the constricting fabric.
Hands folded in front of you, you quickly moved to stand in front of him, innocently looking up at your lover. “You wanted me, Law?” You asked, voice ever so slightly pitched up to add a sense of cuteness, with an underlying sultriness to it. 
He chuckled, using one gloved finger to tilt your chin up toward him, face inching closer to yours. “Figured you needed a ‘check up’, hm?”
“B-but, I just had one two weeks ago,” you feigned innocence, pretending to be unaware of his antics. Though it was evident that both of you knew what game was being played here.
“I think you need a different kind, though,” Law hummed, firmly kissing you for just a second, before biting down onto your lips. “I want you undressed and up on the table, understood?”
With a sweet giggle, you nodded and eagerly began stripping yourself of your clothing. Once you were down to your panties, you angled your head to face Law, licking your lips as you slowly slid the thin fabric down your legs. Though, before they could even reach under your ass, you felt his hands on you, lifting you up to sit on the operation table. And while he’d quickly gotten you up on it, Law then went at an agonizingly slow pace, carefully pulling your panties down your legs, eyes never leaving yours for a second as they slipped off your feet, now bunched up in his hands.
He didn’t say a word to you. Law simply examined your panties, more than likely noticing the wet spot in them. He smirked, looking between you and the delicate lace for a second, all before setting them down on the counter behind him. 
Then, Law returned to you, placing both hands on either side of you, leaning dangerously close to your nude body. His gray eyes looked you up and down, noticeably stopping to stare at your full breasts. Then back up to your face, where he seemingly lingered on your lips. 
“By simply observing you, I cannot say whether or not you are… sufficient.”
“Sufficient?” You raised an eyebrow, echoing Law’s words.
“In satisfaction,” he explained, before continuing on with the act. “Tell me, Y/n. Do you have any symptoms?”
You slowly nodded, bashfully looking away. “Um… yes, I have this ache. It’s soo painful, like I’m throbbing and need something.”
“Where is the ache?” Law asked, sounding as bored as ever. Perhaps he was more desperate than he’d assumed, and was growing tired of the act?
With that thought in mind, you widen your legs, revealing your wet pussy to him. Taking his right hand in yours, you bring Law’s fingers to the supposed ache, gently pushing the gloved finger tips into your folds with a whine.
“I see,” he hummed. “And I know of the treatment you need.”
“You do?” You bit your lip, deciding you were also growing far too desperate to keep up the act. You needed him. Now.
“Yeah,” he deadpanned, face moving beside yours as he whispered, “you need my fucking cock in you, that’s what.”
His hushed voice so close to your ear sent shivers down your spine. 
“Please, Law,” you whined, grabbing onto him. “Make me feel good, please doctor!”
Law reacted quickly, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans, swiftly pulling out his hard length. He was probably aching just as much as you were. With a low chuckle, he pulled you closer to him, using one hand to rub his cock’s tip against your wet folds, the other hand landing on the side of your face as he brought your lips together, kissing you with such desperate fever. 
“Fuck, Law, please,” you moaned, dragging out your words to show more desperation. “Please fuck me, baby.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, as he fully inserted his length in you, filling you to the brim as his pulsating cock squeezed inside of your velvety walls. 
You both moaned, the lewd noises spilling into each other’s mouths as you swallowed them up. Fuck, he felt so good in you. The stretch was delicious, you thought, as you clamped down on him. There was no way you were lasting long tonight.
Law hissed as you cunt squeezed his cock, trapping him within you. “F-fuck, Y/n,” he choked out, “quit clenching on me like that, I’m gonna cum if you keep it up.”
You whined, trying to relax the muscles within your cunt. And after another moment of sitting like that, Law finally pulled his hips backwards, quickly snapping them forward with force, ripping loud moans from your throat.
He pounded into you, creating the nastiest wet noises you’d ever heard your pussy produce, combined with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.. You were glad the operation room walls were thick, as you had a feeling all the combined sounds would wake your resting crewmates otherwise. 
Your fingernails dug into the fabric of Law’s coat, gripping him as your whole body trembled from the sensations. He held you tightly, hovering over you as you laid back on the table now, legs in the air. If somebody were to walk in, there was no doubt about what you and Law were doing. 
Before long, you were screaming his name, cunt slick with your juices as you felt the tight knot within you about to burst. You were a moaning, desperate mess, ready to succumb to everything Law was doing to you. And it seemed he wasn’t far behind, as his thrusts became sloppy and inconsistent, heavy pants falling from his open mouth.
“Law, fuck, fuck, please cum in me,” you half whined, half begged.
“Already planned on it,” he grunted, snapping his hips against yours harshly, “you need your medicine, after all, hm?”
A whimper escaped you, and you felt your body let go as you began to cum around his cock. Law urged you on, praising you for being such a good girl, saying you needed just a little bit more of his cock.
But, mid-way through his taunting, Law gasped, shoving his head down and between your breasts as his body seemingly locked up, his thrusts stopping while he was fully inside you. Cum spilled from him, filling up your spent pussy. You moaned from the sensations of the hot seed stuffing you, a hand flying to hold onto Law, gripping at his messy black hair. 
As you both calmed down, you put a gentler hold on Law’s hair, using both hands to hold his head as you played with the raven locks. He panted against you, hot breaths landing on the skin of your chest. Eventually, he pulled his upper body away, looking down at you before placing a kiss on your wet lips.
“So… am I cured, doctor?”
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lady-eris · 1 year ago
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Hi! I was wondering if you could make a Dbz android17, Goku, Vegeta, Gohan and trunks with a reader who’s exactly like misturi from demon slayer ( I’m not sure if I wrote it correctly)
my idiot self almost deleted the ask XD i was so excited to write this I almost deleted it, i didn't know if you meant personality, or stength and eating or anything else, but i basically decided to do it where the reader has there looks, but the personality and the abilities of Mitsuri
Tw/Notes?: slight description of fighting, profanities, mostly They/them pronouns, Trunks one is feminine hinted
Android 17
His foot was placed on a rock, watching as the poachers down below. They always seemed to bother him. "Again? surely the beating from last time would make them realise" He rolled his eyes, before hearing a voice. It seemed like a shout? His eyes narrowed as he scanned the men below, nothing. His audio picked up a sound from above and quickly looked up.
"Kya!" the voice shouted, jumping from the air and then posing as they landed on the ground. He almost sweat dropped, until he saw the men one bye one drop like fly's. Now just who are they? thought Android 17 it wasn't everyday you saw an average human defeat a bunch of poacher's with what seemed to be ribbon sword.
"you bitch!" one of the poachers wore as they raised their guns, before firing at them. But before the bullet could hit Android 17 quickly deflected it, and knocked the poacher out at the same time. it was child play.
"are you alright?/Will you be my boyfriend?" Android 17 paused, looking up at the taller person. They were strange, but a good strange.
Vegeta
He tsked as he looked up. He had been in a battle, and had almost had his head ripped from his spine. Almost, Just before the attack he felt arms curl around him, as the person carrying him jumped in the air. He opened his eyes, ready to shout at them feeling his pride damaged, only to quickly close them again. a bare chest/exposed. The person holding them had there chest/breast exposed. was the person holding him some harlot?!
But before he could say anything, they began to do an head twirling amount of somersaults and twists as they tried to avoid the attacks. Before landing on the ground. The dirt underneath them coming undone as they did this.
He was speechless (his ego being broken) as he was placed gently on the ground. "Don't worry! I can defeat him!" Vegeta watched them going back to fighting. were they royalty? surely they must of they were as beautiful as a god/goddess, and it seemed like they were trained by the highest of warriors.
he had been too distracted, and had only now come in to terms that they had just beaten the villain. That was HIS fight.
"woman! who are you?! and how dare you steal my fight!" Vegeta shouted, pushing himself up.
Son Goku
Goku sat on the chair (that was quite uncomfortable) as he stuffed his face with food, ordering more and more. The other people looked over in amazement. How could he eat so much? surely it should be impossible to eat that much without being sick, right? WRONG! for Goku was not like them!
"Wow! you eat a lot just like me!" An overly enthusiastic voice stated. "huh?" Goku asked, as he saw someone other then a server come over to talk to him. "can i sit down please?" Goku swallowed the rest of his food before nodding. "Yeah sure!" he stated, and they sat down with a large grin. He looked them over noticing, that they wore colourful clothing, with decorative design on it.
"OH! these look good! so do these! and these too! I'm (y/n) by the way!" They cheerfully said, calling the waitress over who then took there order.
"My nmaes Swon Gokuw" Goku said, speaking with his mouth full. "You have a lovely name Goku! i have a question for you!" Goku swallowed his food, as he waited for them to continue. "go on"
"Would you like to be my husband?"
Gohan
"can I sit here?" Gohan looked up from his spot, seeing someone with (main hair colour) and (secondary hair colour). "Oh! uh sure! Sorry give me a moment please!" He said, as he removed his bags from the chair besides him. They giggled taking the seat next to him.
"thank you!" they grinned, as they took their pen out. it was a pink colour, which had (Image) designs printed on it. Gohan watched from the corner of his eyes, as they stuck the tongue out from the corner of their lips, making there notes look cute. Everything about her was so cute.
"so what's your name? I'm (y/n)!" They asked, as they turned around placing the pen next to their notebook putting their hand out to shake his. He looked up, grabbing their hand and shaking it.
"I'm Gohan!"
"So Gohan, do you wanna go on a date with me?"
Trunks
Trunks screamed as he fell to the floor, his head looking up as that's all he could do his body was badly damaged, sore and bruised. He could only open one eye, as he watched what the villain was going to do.
"You bully! how could you harm someone as cute as him?" A voice shrieked, as suddenly the villain screamed, his arm being sliced off. Trunk's eyes widened as someone appeared in front of him. They were much taller then him, and had defined muscles. His face quickly blushed.
"Pink and green stripes" He muttered looking down. He had accidentally been flashed by the one in front of him. His face felt hot, but the sound of slashing brought him back into reality. They were in a battle, and he was watching the person in front of him fight better then he ever could.;
"i think I've got my first crush" They muttered, there cheeks blushing.
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enhashoutout · 3 months ago
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Please Only Look At Me (Fujio x reader)
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Have I written a Fujio x childhood friend reader post before? Yes
Am I gonna do it again and again because Fujio + this trope is my favorite thing? Absolutely
Genre: Fluff
___ is used in place of y/n to address the reader
Reader is written with female attributes, please feel free to change these while you read if you do not identify as such
Warnings: none other than like a few kisses
I listened to "From The Start" by Laufey while writing if you want to listen to it while you read.
Inspired by my bestie @high-and-low-all-the-way 's post High and Low reactions Them as Love tropes
The one where Fujio isn't gonna lose the girl he's been in love with his whole life to some rando who doesn't know you like he does.
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___ and Fujio have been friends since they were kids. The two lived in the same housing estate at Hope Hill and were over at each other's places all the time so that they weren't home alone.
Both kids were very outgoing growing up but ___ started to retreat into a shell as puberty hit because growing up as a girl with people telling you how to act and be took a toll on her. Fujio stayed the same, extroverted and excited to make friends. The only people who get to see ___ extroverted were Fujio, Madoka, Seiji, Arata, Shinya, and Masaya. Yui too once they became friends through Madoka.
Fujio never treated ___ any differently. He saw the changes in her personality but didn't mind because he still got to see your extroverted personality when you were together. Not going separate ways once you grew older was already more than Fujio could ask for because he was scared you would grow up and realize you didn't want to be friends anymore, wanting to hang out with different people.
Fujio staying the same even through puberty, made ___ question her feelings for him. It’s not like he treated her any differently from everyone else, so why does she like him more than a friend? Because he's nice? Well, he's nice to everyone so it doesn't mean he feels the same way. Being nice is the bare minimum, so why is it different when Fujio is nice to her?
Fujio on the other hand thought his feelings were obvious. He waits for ___ to pick her up from school, even on late nights where she stays after for after school club events. He shares his food, and won't let anyone else help him patch up his injuries because "only ___ knows how to do it correctly". Fujio is brave in all situations... except for his feelings for ___; so he thought he would let his actions speak for him instead of saying it directly. She would surely pick up on the signs... right? Wrong. ___ is convinced he's just being nice because he is a nice person.
The only people that know for sure ___ likes Fujio are Madoka and Yui. She chose not to tell the boys because she was scared one of them would accidentally slip and tell Fujio, scared that he might not feel the same. More people know Fujio likes ___. Seiji, Arata, Shinya, Masaya, Tsukasa, Jamuo, and the rest of the boys who follow him. They always hear him talking about you and how much he likes you but doesn't know if you feel the same because you don't show any signs of feeling the same way. You don't blush at his words or actions, and you never seem nervous to be around him. (The truth is that you've been hiding your crush on him for so long you've gotten good at pretending he doesn't affect you in any way when he really does.)
Madoka, Seiji, Arata, Shinya, and Masaya are sure you both like each other but don't know what to do with you guys. The friend group was sworn to secrecy by the respective friend, so they weren't allowed to give the other person a little push in the right direction. It seemed you were both doomed to not know how the other felt until a certain group date was crashed.
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Madoka, Shinya, Yui, Sawamura, and a few other girls from the band club and their boyfriends were all going on a group date. Madoka, Yui, and the girls got you to tag along because they said that the boys would bring a few friends who are single also.
"I don't know guys, I don't have someone to go with. It'll be boring if I just sit there while you're all talking to your boyfriends. I don't want to be a third wheel to four different couples."
"We took care of that! The other girls told us that their boyfriends have friends who are also single and a few of the other band girls who are also single are coming too. So, you guys can all do blind-dates or even speed-dating!" (Yui)
"I don't know about this guys...."
"Come on ___, it'll be fun! Maybe you'll like one of them and stop liking Fujio," said Yui.
"Pleaseee, she's liked him since we were 6. I don't know if she'll ever stop," said Madoka.
"No need to call me out like that Madoka."
"It's true! You've liked him since we were kids. But take what Yui is saying into consideration. Maybe you'll like one of the guys that comes on the date."
"Okay fine." The other girls hugged you, squealing with excitement; happy that you agreed to come along.
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The next day after school, you guys walked to a café nearby, meeting the boys there. Your friends ran to give their boyfriends a hug, you following behind.
"Hey ___." (Shinya)
"Hey Shinya."
"Hey ___! What are you doing here?" (Sawamura)
"Madoka and Yui convinced me to come and join the blind dating. Told me it would be fun. I figured it wouldn't hurt to just mingle."
"Guys, let's go inside!" (Yui)
The group began to file into the cafe, but not before Sawamura looked at Shinya and mouthed "Text Fujio" before they all went in. Shinya didn't need to be told twice, he was already thinking about it, Sawamura just helped double confirm his thoughts. All the boys who were friends with Fujio knew he liked you, everyone was surprised none of them have spilled the secret to you. I guess that comes with being loyal to Fujio. Both guys knew that Fujio would flip if he knew you were here on a blind date.
As everyone was waiting to be seated, Shinya pulled out his phone to text Fujio.
Hey Did you know that ___ is also here?
Fujio was hanging out on the rooftop with the others when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and read the notification from Shinya, almost spitting out his drink after reading the messages.
F: What do you mean ___ is there?! Aren't you on a group date?! S: Yeah. I guess some of the other guys here brought their single friends and the girls and guys who are single are blind dating while the rest of us are on a group date. Sawamura and I just wanted to let you know she's here. F: Where are you guys? S: The café near Seiho Girl High School.
"Guys I have to go!" shouted Fujio as he ran out of Oya. The others looked at him, a bit baffled because he ran out before any of them could answer. Fujio began running towards the café. He ran and ran and didn't stop until he had arrived outside of the café. Fujio quickly entered and looked for you, seeing you talking to some random boy from another school.
"Fujio! What are you doing here?" Shinya asked out loud, pretending like he wasn't the one who notified Fujio of your whereabouts.
Fujio walked over to your table and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the café with him without a word.
"Fujio? Fuijo, where are we going? Fujio I left my date back there by himself because you pulled me out of the café!"
Fujio turned around to look at you, not letting go of your wrist. "Don't look at anyone else."
"Huh?"
"Don't look at anyone else. Don't look at other boys. Please only look at me."
"Fujio what are you talking about?"
"I like you ___. I've liked you for a long time ___, since we were 6 years old. I've liked you every day since we met and I've been trying to show you I like you since we were 10. I haven't been able to tell you because I was scared you didn't feel the same, but I'm telling you now. All the boys know I like you, I told all of them. When Shinya and Sawamura saw you here they texted me and I came as fast as I could. I can't lose you to someone else when I've loved you my whole life ___. I love you ___! So please don't look at anyone else."
A moment of silence passed between the two as they continued to stare at each other. "Well at least accept or reject me ___. Don't leave me hanging," said Fujio.
___ grabbed a hold of Fujio's other hand, getting up on her tip toes, and kissed the boy. Fujio let go of ___'s hands to wrap his arms around her waist as he melted into the kiss. ___'s hands going up to grab his shoulders. The two finally pulled away when they needed air.
"You should've just told me that from the beginning Fujio."
"I know. I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you. Be my girlfriend?"
"Yes, I would love to finally be your girlfriend."
Fujio hugged ___ and spun them in a circle. "I've been waiting my whole life to hear you say that."
"In my defense, you took a whole lifetime to ask."
He let go of the hug to look at her. "But I've been showing you that I liked you since forever!"
"Showing me how?!"
"By being extra nice to you!"
"That's not valid! You're nice to everyone!"
The two held hands and walked off, continuing to bicker back and forth about whether or not Fujio's actions spoke loud enough to convey his feelings or if he should've just verbally confessed sooner. Behind a bush, Tsukasa, Jamuo, Todoroki, Yuken, Tsuji, and Shibaman hid to look at the two.
"Well, now they're dating, but they still bicker the same way they did when we were all 6." (Jamuo)
"I don't think that'll ever change about them." (Tsukasa)
"Finally! Now we won't have to hear him mope about how ___ doesn't return his feelings anymore!" (Tsuji)
"Yeah but now it's gonna turn into him talking about how much he loves her instead." (Shibaman)
Yuken was taking a picture of the two walking hand in hand.
"Uhhh what are you doing?" (Todoroki)
"Sending it to the Housen-Suzuran group chat obviously." (Yuken)
"You guys have a group chat?" (Todoroki)
"Yeah. It's new. Made it since Rao and Sachio are friends now." (Yuken)
"Are you updating Rao on Fujio's love life?" (Tsukasa)
"Yes. And making Binzo jealous." (Yuken)
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TA-DAH! You made it to the end! This was just something small and fun I wrote today when I got a break from class and training at my new job. I miss writing😭 I need to get back into writing more, I didn't get to post anything in the Summer. This blog is gonna see an insane amount of self-indulgent fluff fics being posted because I'm gonna need those to get through my Master's program this year (help I'm dreading it already and this is only my second day)😭😂
© This work is copyrighted by enhashoutout. I only post my work on this Tumblr account. I do not allow people to repost or translate my work without my permission. If you do see anyone doing so, please let me know. Writers work hard on their stories, please don't be a crappy human and take our work. ♡
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kenjakusbrainstem · 1 year ago
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Defenseless (Mahito x Reader)
Contains: Rape, body horror, multiple limbs, Mahito's hand cock (as mentioned in my other fics).
Hello! Day 15 of Kinktober: Noncon. For the amount of Mahito dub/noncon that I do write, this was kinda difficult. I tried to make sure it was different than the other Mahito stuff I've done, don't want things to seem too samey. I wanted to try something new, which is why I took a scene with my oc and changed it. Hopefully it still reads well despite being plucked out of that plot. Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comment or rb if you have any thoughts or want to hear more about my AU, perhaps I'll post some of it after kinktober.
The school was supposed to be a safe place, one where there were plenty of people around to keep students safe. Especially at a Goodwill Event, when the teachers from multiple schools were there on the same campus. This year's Goodwill Event had been a disaster thus far. You’d gotten separated from your classmates and decided to simply search for low level cursed spirits to exorcise when the strange veil lowered. 
Despite the supposed safety, you knew something was wrong when you attempted to reach out to your classmates via cellphone but were unable. With Yuuta overseas you normally paired up with Inumaki, your technique’s meshing fairly well. It was helpful to nearly any sorcerer to be paired with you though, as your ability was to use reversed cursed technique on others. Your weapon proficiency didn’t usually matter, but since this was supposed to be a friendly battle, you only had your wits and two daggers you weren’t fully comfortable with to protect yourself. 
While you were confident in your ability to exorcise some low level curses, the uncertainty of what was going on had you on edge. 
Slowly you crept toward a part of the campus people rarely went to, you neared the path to the Tomb of the Star Corridor, assuming that there would be some form of guard there. As you made it to the edge of the wooded area near the stairs, you were shocked to find the end of the barrier. It seemed whatever was going on had nothing to do with Tengen. 
It made sense to you that whatever the strange barrier was, that is where the trouble had to be. It wouldn’t hurt to hide or at least find someone of authority to alert. 
You met surprisingly little resistance as you burst through the veil, heading over toward the only building you could see. If you remembered correctly, it was a warehouse that the school used to store cursed objects. Looking around, you didn’t see any guards, so you slowly approached the building before slipping in through the door quietly. 
Inside wasn’t what you expected to see, two horribly transfigured humans laid on the floor of the storage room. You froze, hands immediately flying to your daggers as you looked around. It seemed like it was just you and the transfigured humans. Remembering the work of the Patchwork curse, you were on edge. 
Kneeling next to one of the bodies, you attempted to use your technique to assist them in some way. Focusing all of your energy into the palms of your hands, you attempted to restore the assistant that was still moving. Unexpectedly, right before your eyes you watched as the assistant slowly morphed back, his skin returning to a normal shade. You checked the pulse and to your surprise it was faint.
This changed things, unfortunately you felt drained, not expecting to exert that much energy. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to get the assistant back to your teachers soon.
“Oh what do we have here? Did you do this?” A playful voice filled the room. You looked up, shocked to hear another person when you could have swore the room was empty moments ago.
There was no doubt in your mind who it was when he stepped closer, stitches visible on his face, barely obscured by his long blue hair. The curse had an excited look on his face, like he’d just discovered a new toy to play with. As you both looked at the man that used to be transfigured in front of you, you thought to yourself that this was the only time you would have rather been too late to save someone.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, standing upright. Your hands gripped your daggers but with the energy you just used, you couldn’t help but feel exhausted. Still you weren’t going to back down, that wasn’t what a sorcerer would do.
The curse laughed, taking a step toward you. You couldn’t help but step back, but you miscalculated, tripping over the other transfigured human on the ground and stumbling onto your back. The move was a grave mistake, you felt yourself getting dizzy as your head cracked against the floor.
“You managed to change one of my toys back! That’s so strange, if you came with me I wouldn’t have to worry about them breaking so easily. Say, doesn’t that sound fun?” The curse sounded much more excitable than you expected. You hadn’t expected him to speak with the enthusiasm of a child.
The dizziness in your head made it hard to fully comprehend what he was talking about. When he said toys did he mean the assistants? Confusion mixed with fear in your mind to create panic, though your hands gripped your weapons tightly even on the ground, you were somehow less confident than normal in your ability to protect yourself.
You didn’t have the chance to find your voice, because he was on top of you in a flash. The curse was much faster than you had expected. He didn’t touch you immediately, instead choosing to cage you in. For some reason this scared you more, knowing enough about him to know that his abilities functioned through touch. What could he have planned if not killing you right away.
“I’m not allowed to kill any students, but if I hit you hard enough you should forget most of this,” His words didn’t match the tone he was using. The curse sounded like he was discussing a fun pass time he was unable to partake in, not murder. Even though he hadn’t said much, you didn’t want to listen any longer. The pain in your head was already making your head throb, something about trying to understand the curse just made it throb worse. 
You held up your weapons, ready to strike if he moved any closer. Or you thought you were. Before you knew it your hands were empty, daggers ripped from them by a limb protruding from his back that you somehow hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
“Now since you can negate my abilities on others, I wonder what you can do to yourself,” The curse thought aloud, hands reaching for your face. You quickly moved your arms up to protect yourself, not that you could do much. 
As you felt his hands grasp your forearms, you knew you needed to act quickly. Your skin felt like it was boiling hot where his hands touched, as if the skin could slough off onto the ground or be reshaped like playdoh. Though you were exhausted, you pushed all of your remaining energy into your arms. Even with your best attempt at keeping yourself safe, you could feel his power was much stronger than yours.
“Fascinating! No one’s ever been able to resist Idle Transfiguration before! I wish I could take you back with me, you’re exactly what he’s looking for in a sorcerer,” He rambled as he spoke, a look of amazement in his eyes. He was clearly excited, but you had no idea who or what he was talking about. 
It was hard for you to focus, though you’d stopped his attack it felt like something was seriously wrong with your arms. In the dim light of the warehouse it was so hard to tell though. 
Opening your mouth to speak, you were stopped by a pair of unexpected lips on yours. The kiss, if you could call it that, full of tongue and teeth. His tongue slipped into your mouth even though you tried to close it. Everything about him was so overwhelming and strange, you’d never felt a kiss so terrifying before.
You tried to lift your arms in an attempt to push him away, but you could barely move them an inch without pain shooting up your body. You had put all of your remaining energy into trying to block his attack, and it hadn’t even been able to stop it. Groaning at the pain in your arms, you wanted nothing more than for him to leave or knock you out. Pulling away from the kiss, he giggled at what you were sure must have been a horrified look on your face.
“You’re getting me so excited just thinking about it. Say will you stay quiet for me so I can try something? I really think you’d be perfect for one of his experiments,” His words made your blood run cold. They sounded so threatening, and who exactly was he talking about? As far as you knew, this curse operated alone, so to have him actively referencing a partner of sorts was alarming.
Without warning the curse flipped your skirt up, exposing your panties to him. You tried to wiggle away, but it was no use, you were on the floor nearly pushed up completely against the wall. The only way out was through him and that wasn’t happening without help.
You watched in fear as the hand in front of you changed shape and size, taking the form of an erect cock. How hard did you hit your head, exactly? You didn’t remember anyone saying that he could manipulate his body into different shapes, but you also just might not have been paying attention. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, you attempted to close your legs, but you felt two hands wrap around your ankles. 
“Even at a time like this you’re trying to fight back? What a good little sorcerer you are,” The mocking tone in his voice made you angry. You felt the blunt head of the cock rubbing against your pussy through your panties, as if he were teasing you instead of torturing. You lifted your hips to try and get away from him, but the hands around your ankles pulled you closer.
The sudden jerking movement made you hit your head on the ground again, vision blacking out for a moment. Through the haze of fighting to stay conscious, you felt a hot, stretching pain as he entered you. Forcing your eyes open, you were met with the mischievous patchwork grin staring at you, he looked like he had just played a harmless prank on you. Like he wasn’t violating you.
The curse’s movement inside you was slow at first, filling you up carefully as if he were measuring your insides. You could feel the head of his cock pressing up against your cervix, a shiver running down your spine at being filled completely. No human would be able to do this, the strange image of just how large the cock inside you was filling your mind. 
You watched his smile grow wider as he slowly pulled out of you. It almost felt pleasurable, the way the thick cock felt inside of you. That is until you felt the stretch of the head against your entrance. The curse paused, not pulling all the way out of you yet. For a moment you thought he was finished, but that thought was only able to linger in your mind for a few seconds before he slammed his cock back into you.
The curse’s thrusts had gone from soft exploration to a violent attack, each one coming right after the other. You choked, having trouble even breathing as you felt the head of his cock slamming up against your cervix. The pain of being fucked so hard by something far too big made you feel sick, but the way his cock rubbed up against your walls felt good. If each thrust didn’t make you want to cry, you could have at least pretended to enjoy it.
His pace increased, the speed he was fucking into you made it impossible to try and get away. You didn’t even have time to think between thrusts. Trying to make it bearable, you attempted to focus on the drag of his cock inside you, it did feel good, the way you could feel the veins against your walls. It wasn’t enough though, you couldn’t take your mind off of the pain.
As quickly as it started though, he froze inside of you. Something had caused him to stop and you had no idea what it was. Was someone here to save you? Had you been found? Part of you didn’t want to be found like this, no one needed to see just how weak you had been.
The curse rammed his cock into your cervix again, pressing in and not moving away. 
“It seems I’ve gotta go now, the veil is gone, you’re so much fun though I hate to leave you like this. Next time I catch you, I’ll finish this. Don’t miss me too much, cutie!” As soon as he was finished speaking, he ripped his cock from you. You felt something inside you tear with the violent motion. His hands left your ankles, though you wanted to get up and fight him, you were unable to do nothing more than curl in on yourself. 
You watched through teary eyes as he picked something up. Had he been carrying something when you first encountered him? Your brain was too scrambled to remember any details. 
“Oh right, you’ve seen me! Don’t want you remembering too much,” He giggled to himself, again his speech making you think of a child. 
He stepped over you, his shoes right in front of your face. You didn’t have time to register the sharp kick to your temple as you felt consciousness leave you.
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bsydelver · 3 months ago
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PART 2- Tamaki Amajiki x Alt/gothic reader.
———>part 1
COLLAB WITH @wolvwa <333 (best plot inventor for real)
MAY BE OOC BUT BARE WITH ME.
Note: Okay, Im actually kinda excited for this chapter bcs Wolfa made such a cute plot for this part so trust us please with this one even if I barely write/wrote fluff 🙏
Warnings (?): Writer should not be labelled a writer, english isn’t my first language, reader slowly falls in love kinda, Mirio and Nejire just being Tamaki’s friends idk how to explain, reader is cute lowkey wanna be Tamaki (hj)
Summary: The four of you are hungry and go to a nice place then follow up and buy things from the cafeteria on campus until something happens and- okay just read.
As Mirio stepped in, a call for him that Nejire did and filled the room with followed. Tamaki lifted his head up too to look at Mirio who was visibly waiting for the room to calm down before fixing his mouth to say anything. Before you could greet him, you couldn’t help but notice the huge bag he was carrying on his back: what would a student be carrying that was this big for some chill out at a dorm with friends, you being you of course, you chose to question him about it; you always started your known interrogations with something simple, “Hey Mirio!” Nejire and Mirio both looked at you and it didn’t take long before Tamaki joined them (he couldn't miss this opportunity after all), “Y/n! How are you?” Mirio replied back, it was simple as you had initially expected- that exact moment was the time to actually ask: “If you don’t mind me asking; your bag looks rather bigger today, what do you exactly have in there?” your tone came off concerned for some reason which made the two other people who had been present before Mirio’s entrance in the dorm at that moment seem even more invested than you were, “Oh yeah!” Mirio let down his bag which kind of made a loud bang on the floorboards but it was much quieter than you predicted it would be actually, “I brought a board game for us to play,” as Mirio said that, you could see stars form in Nejire’s eyes and you couldn’t resist letting out a half smile: they were your closest friends after all and seeing them happy made you happy as well.
Due to Nejire’s obvious excitement, al though not expressed by her directly, Mirio layed out the game without any context and just ordered you guys to pair up into two groups of two people- but he basically hadn’t given you the choice as he had picked Nejire immediately, leaving you and Tamaki. Dice started rolling and true rivalry begun, there was nothing labelled as friendship when it came to you and the group’s board game matches. The only trustable person you had was Tamaki and you didn’t want to waste that, you both gave each other mutual ‘time to finish this’ glances through out the games and a few smiles as well, mostly from your side- but Tamaki had mustered up the courage a few times to actually form some as well. The thing that intrigued you the most though during this intense game were the (not-very-well-hidden) hidden smirks and glances Mirio and Nejire gave Tamaki: were the three of them planning on 3 versus 1 against you, were you just that good?! You decided not to look too much into it though as one hour had went by and your victory was officially confirmed and Mirio packed up the board with a quote-on-quote “disappointed face” that you just scoffed at in a playful manner. You looked at the person who preformed amazingly, Tamaki, and signaled him to do a fist bump which resulted in a few seconds of silence before he raised his fist up to complete the bump part of it.
Mirio’s stomach rumble escaped as he was putting the game back in his bag, you rolled your eyes and did a small giggle, “I heard this new place opened and does deliveries to our campus and we don’t need approval if I remember correctly since they partnered with principal Nezu!” You blurted out in order for you not to seem evil for that giggle that came out from you earlier accidentally (or on purpose, only you knew the answer to that); the group all agreed to your suggestion and after you contacted that new restaurant, you all ran out of the dorm with the idea that by the time you reach the drop off spot at campus, the order would be there.
You guys were right for once actually and you took the order and rushed to your ‘signature’ bench to eat there before anybody else could sit there and claim the place. Everyone slowly opened their order like it was some mysterious box, and they technically were since you had never tried from this place. You noticed that Tamaki had looked at you before taking a bite of his meal, you just smirked at the thought of it and how cute yet simple he was, both were traits you never thought would be coming from him at the time you didn’t know him as much (maybe cute but on a minimal scale, MAYBE). Everyone was digging in, especially Mirio, and you could tell it wouldn’t be the last time you guys would order from that place. Everyone’s mouthes were too full to say anything, all of you guys basically looked like hamsters with nut-stuffed cheeks that were puffed out; Tamaki pulled out a tissue as he chewed and after he swallowed, you could see him start mouthing something to you, “Y/n,” he didn’t continue and just pointed at a spot on his own left cheek, it was obvious now that you think about it but at that moment you were too focused on something else to process what Tamaki was hinting towards. Tamaki layed down his food and took off his gloves, still holding the same tissue, and leaned towards you- gently wiping the parallel spot on your face which he had been pointing at on his own face previously, his fingers were cold yet gave you warmth and before you could thank him: he pulled a similar product to the one you used for your makeup and handed it to you, "I carry this with me just in case of emergencies for you," you smiled at the small yet thoughtful gesture and properly thanked him after swallowing your food which you had been slowly chewing on since Tamaki’s wiping without taking notice.
You all headed back to your dorm and not Nejire’s this time after the much-needed meal with initial plans on a movie night with snacks- recommended by Nejire and Mirio. Something was missing though; it was the snacks part of the whole thing, Nejire quickly took action for this horrible “mistake” she had done and informed you and the group that her and Mirio would be going out to buy some and that Mirio needed to go out anyways to get his bag from Nejire’s dorm. You closed the door behind them with an exhale and looked behind you to find the indigo-haired boy sitting on the floor of your room in awe of the uniqueness of it, there was a contrast between you and him: he was always really quiet and just kept to himself unless you were really close to him and you found that fascinating to you, but you were open about your personality and interests and that always seemed to amaze Tamaki and admire you. Your footsteps quickly cut his observation off though and he had realized you both were alone and for God knows how long you’d be, Nejire and Mirio were menaces for this and they knew exactly what they were doing. You looked down at the distressed Tamaki and decided to sit down beside him to offer some comfort if needed, “Wait I have an idea,” something came over you and you opened the record player you had to practically beg the school to allow for months before they actually did to play ‘Lucretia My reflection’ (wr:sorry had to pull out one of my favs) you put out your hand for Tamaki and pulled him up and started moving ‘with’ him to the beat, you realized he was lost though and decided to take it upon yoursef to be the one to teach him dancing. You told him to follow along with your steps and taught him all you knew and all with a smile on both of your faces. Tamaki was always captivated by you, everything about you felt so different to him yet attractive and to have the opportunity to participate in the uniqueness you carried within you was an honor to him.
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nanomooselet · 10 months ago
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Little but Fierce
Now, I might be mistaken, but judging by the number of bare pectoral muscles strewn over my dash at any given moment, I'm gonna say Wolfwood is pretty popular? And that's understandable (he's a loser <3) but it's a genuinely terrible shame that Meryl gets overlooked. Especially in Stampede. Orange have done some really amazingly cool things with Meryl.
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And it makes me a little nervous to say so, but I think they only could have done them by detaching her from Milly, at least for a time. Milly's still going to show up and I'm confident from this precedent they'll treat her well, so I'm at peace with her absence for now.
Nightow is unexpectedly good in many ways. He treats sex workers as human, which is a low bar that many nevertheless fail to clear, and my only serious disappointment in Maximum was in how the girls vanished for long periods. I recall an interview where he said something to the effect of being reluctant to put them in harm's way, and while I'm disinclined to take anything Nightow says entirely at face value (I don't think he's a liar, but I do think he has a sense of humour that inclines him to kindly trolling, which I respect), that would line up, I think.
I think Orange are taking the opportunity to remedy this disappointment.
It's exciting. It's the kind of writing for female characters in genre media I've always craved. I will not be silenced on how extremely gay I am for Meryl Stryfe.
Unfortunately that means for this first entry, I'll have to talk about Knives. (Whom I also love, but not in a gay way. More an affectionate revulsion. He's fascinatingly horrible, this man.)
So. I've noticed a distressing tendency for Knives's... really almost anything that ever comes out of his mouth (seriously) to be taken as the honest, objective truth. After all, they didn't call him a villain.
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And what an honest face he has!
As Knives has it:
Vash is pretty, but he's useless without his brother. He's a powerless, weak, pathetically naïve, blubberingly sentimental little baby who doesn't care about the Plants, too busy enabling humanity's abuse via performing his cringing, grasping abasement before them to notice how his brethren suffer. Knives himself is the more powerful (and much less human-like) of the twins; the strongest and most righteous activist for necessary change now that, sadly despite all good faith attempts at communication, non-violent solutions have failed. He truly has only the best and most altruistic intentions: the freedom of his people, and the happiness of his brother.
Here's the problem. This has always been the problem. Every one of the statements in the paragraph above is false. Except the one about Vash being pretty.
Once more with feeling: They are completely untrue. They are supported by literally nothing. All we have is his word that they're true and there's so much existing evidence to disprove his claims that even the thought of compiling it exhausts me.
However, I did say that Zazie is a truth-teller in this story, didn't I? So let's examine some of Zazie's conclusions.
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Now, I've seen reference to the surviving human communities on No Man's Land as "colonisers", and that their treatment of the Plants even before the Fall is analogous to slavery. (My strong suspicion is that Knives is purposefully invoking those comparisons, in fact.) Those are both extremely loaded analogies, culturally and emotionally, and I just want to gently, respectfully caution those who make them against overlooking the more nuanced and purposeful analogies being made. Or maybe should I say, the actual individuals to whom they apply.
Zazie is very careful to say this: Knives told them humans can't be trusted to learn from consuming their home planet. Knives was the one who said humans will have Zazie's planet next, and that only Knives will "use" the Plants correctly - so Zazie should ally with Knives.
Here's what Knives meant by "using the Plants correctly":
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I, uh, think Zazie may have made the wrong call on this one! And that Zazie thinks the same.
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This is what makes the interaction with Wolfwood so funny and sad - the all-knowing, ostensibly unkillable Zazie is freaking the hell out, staggering under the weight of realising just how apocalyptically badly they have fucked up. Wolfwood, who also directly instigated this disaster but under duress, is grimly amused - he did everything he did fulfilling the contract to protect the kids, even as his conviction failed, even though he would rather have died, even after Livio... and thus he personally rendered all his own efforts and sacrifices moot.
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And he's just like, "Heh, yeah. That tracks." This poor boy.
Afterwards, Zazie is confused and even a little saddened that Vash was demonised in the wake of July's destruction. Never let it be said the bug fails to learn from experience: Vash is the one everyone blames? Ah, so he was in fact spectacularly heroic and clever and it's entirely Knives's fault it turned out so badly.
Also, crashing on this specific planet wasn't exactly humanity's choice. Guess whose choice it was.
Go on, guess. Better yet, guess why.
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Yeah. It was also Knives who said to Zazie that both he and Vash crashed the ships... trying to stop us. From doing exactly what Knives tried to do the very instant he got the chance.
The thing is, Knives does everything he can to look like he's right by positioning himself as the most authoritative source, but he isn't ever backed up by like... facts. Or evidence. Or reality. Or anything. Ever. He crowned himself king of the Plants. He speaks and acts for them by divine right, apparently. He didn't take a vote or anything - in his mind it's self-evident only he understands the world, and Vash, and the correct way to use the Plants. Because remember that it's not using Plants he gives a damn about, even using them to death in the Last Run, as long it's him doing it. It's being dependent upon humans; he views providing for our basic survival needs as wasteful and inherently, exclusively parasitic, even if we're helping the Plants to survive in turn. Because it's humans that he's frightened of, and he wants the yucky things gone.
The thing is, when he's not being purposefully manipulative (though Vash is the only one he manipulates in person, probably because Vash is the only one he pays enough attention to for his tactics to be effective) he's being a dense fucking idiot. At very few points do his delusions intersect with reality.
The thing is, Knives is a known, proven, and entirely unrepentant liar. It's the logical extension of the way he gaslights Vash. He is in no way a trustworthy source of information.
All that he says is part of a heroic narrative about being the specialest boy evar that he came up with to avoid taking any blame or responsibility for the consequences of his actions. Knives considers himself perfect, but he's made plenty of mistakes, which I do think he would consider mistakes - among them Rem's death, alienating Vash, cutting off his arm and rendering him disabled, and what I suspect to be the large number of Plants killed in the Fall, along with the ones consumed by the Last Run in the desperation that followed.
So he tells himself... little stories. Inside his head. It's how he reconciles it. It's how he copes.
Basically, if you want to find any truth in anything Knives ever says, look closely at what he says, and believe the opposite.
Now, onto my girl and how completely fantastic she is.
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
Part VIII
Part IX
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funficwriter · 1 year ago
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A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)
Letters' Interlude - 1
A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!
Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...
Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.
Tag: @yue-caelum
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From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine
To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine
Dearest Duke,
I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.
I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).
Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.
Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?
I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.
Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!
Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.
Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.
Yours truly,
Lady Y/N Balthazar
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From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine
To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine
To my cherished Lady,
I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.
First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.
If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.
And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?
After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.
As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.
I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.
Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?
How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.
Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.
With all the love I can hold,
Duke Wriothesley
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cupidlovemail · 2 years ago
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( haikyuu ) tsukishima x reader
reader :: gender-neutral, not japanese, has an unspecified native language, newest manager of the karasuno volleyball club
genre :: fluff
word count :: 1.7k
warnings :: none!
characters :: tsukishima kei, kiyoko shimizu, daichi sawamura
details :: tsukishimas love language is NOT words of affirmation, obviously, so he needs to find a different way to get his feelings across to the person he likes
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Thump.
Another crumpled ball of paper hit the edge of the garbage can, tumbling out and landing on the floor. The bin had started overflowing nearly half an hour prior and now a small mountain of paper was building up around it. Some were full of writing, some had creases at the edges, and some barely had simple, but imperfect, words at the top. All had been discarded by the man at the desk, his chin resting on his palm and a frown on his face.
Tsukishima's knee bounced anxiously as he tapped his pen against the notepad before him. The clock read 10:48 p.m. and he knew he had things to be doing, most importantly studying for a test he had to write tomorrow. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn’t force his mind to focus on the material. The textbooks and lecture notes had been pushed aside in favour of something much more frivolous: trying to draft the perfect note to the newest manager of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.
A foreign exchange student from overseas, they had joined Tsukishima’s class at the beginning of the year. He had originally paid them no mind, they simply sat across the room from him and behaved as any student would. He had no reason to dislike them, they simply existed like most people in his class. They appeared one day at the volleyball club soon after, excitedly following Kiyoko into the gym and interrupting practice. The way they shook hands with Daichi and greeted everyone else with a bright smile on their face caused Tsukishima to roll his eyes, hoping they wouldn’t be another loud addition to the club.
The more they frequented the gym, however, the more Tsukishima felt himself clicking with them. Despite being fluent in Japanese they had a tendency to use words from their native language, teaching him a variety of words in the process. Mostly swear words, especially useful when he wanted to be snarky and a show-off. Before he knew it he had begun keeping a list of words they frequently used so he would always understand them, even when others didn’t. In his time off he would search up new terms to try and catch them off guard with his knowledge, secretly enjoying how their eyes would sparkle when he used a foreign phrase correctly. Even if he got the pronunciation wrong, hearing them correct him and teach him properly was more than enough.
As a way to foster his learning, they insisted, the two had begun sharing music in their respective languages. The first day the new manager had been in charge of the music during warmup they had chosen a piece by a local producer from their hometown. Despite not understanding the words at the time, Tsukishima did enjoy the rhythm and later asked them for the name so he could add it to his own playlist. The short interaction had sparked a back-and-forth of sending each other increasingly obscure music they enjoyed. Little by little his playlist began to fill up with more of their music taste than his own, something he tried his best to ignore. When he thought too long about how much he enjoyed their conversations or focused too hard on how excited they looked when he successfully blocked a spike his ears would grow hot and his head would get foggy.
Tsukishima’s phone screen lit up beside him, shaking him out of his thoughts. It was only a brief moment of calm, however, as the new notification had your name attached.
“Tsuki, check this out!” The text read, a link to a YouTube video attached.
He tried to repress the jolt he felt in his chest as he clicked on the link and turned the volume up for his headphones. Tsukishima reclined in his chair and shut his eyes, trying to fully immerse himself in the song (totally not for your sake, he thought). Although he didn’t understand most of the words it was enjoyable overall and he could confidently say he liked it.
“That’s a good one,” Tsukishima answered as soon as the music faded out. He clicked loop on the video and turned down the volume before searching up the lyrics, scanning over the words to see if he could pick any out. As it played in the background he continued to add to his ever-growing list of words to try and impress you with.
“You say that about all of them!” Was the response from you, a joking vibe to your text. It made him pause, thinking back over every song you had sent him recently. He had liked all of them even if they weren’t what he typically chose to listen to. Was he really just enjoying them because you were the one sending them?
“That’s because they’re all good.” He settled with, trying to chase the thoughts out of his mind.
After some more chatting back and forth, you both said your goodnights and Tsukishima’s phone fell silent once more. The lyrics still pulled up on his computer screen gave him the courage to continue working on the note before him, feeling more confident in expressing what he wanted to say. His spoken words consistently failed him, always coming out bitter despite the intention being pure. Well, mostly pure. He didn't think he would ever be able to totally discard his sarcastic persona, but he also knew you would never want him to do that anyway. Hoping that he would at least appear more genuine in writing, Tsukishima finally signed his name at the bottom of a perfectly constructed piece of paper.
------
The sound of volleyballs hitting the floor filled your ears as you sat on a gym bench and yawned. Waking up early to study, attending class all day, and then being the newest manager of a volleyball club was more tiring than you initially expected. You weren’t even the one playing and you felt like you were being stretched thin, you couldn’t imagine actually being on the team. Kiyoko sat next to you, scribbling notes on a clipboard and occasionally adjusting her glasses. She had turned down your help earlier in the evening, insisting that whatever job she was working on was simple enough to perform on her own. As comfortable energy settled between the two of you, now was a perfect time for your eyes to trail over to your favourite member of the Karasuno Volleyball Club. You were unbiased, of course, but everyone has a favourite, right? He was leaning against a wall in the far corner talking to Yamaguchi and attempting to look busy. What you didn't notice was the way he would glance in your direction each time you looked away, not wanting to miss you leaving the gym. It had been a long day, everyone on the team looked exhausted and you could tell that no meaningful progress was being made.
Daichi suddenly clapped his hands together and dismissed everyone, almost as if you had voiced your thoughts out loud. You sprung up from the bench and stretched your arms up over your head, preparing to gather your things and begin heading home. Bidding farewell to Kiyoko and exiting the gym, you stopped at the fountain to fill your water bottle. It wasn’t long until footsteps approached you from behind.
“Hey, Tsuki.” You say, looking at him over your shoulder. “Great practice today. What’s up?”
“Thanks. I have something for you.”
He sounded more blunt than usual. You turned off the fountain and moved to face him, giving him your undivided attention. He averted his gaze, rustling the pages of the notebook he was holding and taking out a piece of neatly folded paper. Unbeknownst to you, he had kept the letter he worked on flat between the pages to make sure it got to you in perfect condition. Although you likely wouldn't notice even if it did have creases or smudges, Tsukishima felt like it would be embarrassing to give you something imperfect. He didn't care though, really. You take it, meeting his eyes with a skeptical look.
“What was so important that you had to write it down? I already have your phone number.” You joke, and he still doesn’t meet your eyes.
“Just open it.”
You gently open the paper, folded once in a perfectly straight line. It was a list of song names, all written in perfectly neat Japanese, numbered one through ten. Each one had a small note beside it talking about the song. I think you’ll like this singer and 1:29 is my favourite and the ending is really good were concise but charming, your smile growing larger and larger as you went down the list. When you got to the end, a message written in your native language was (somewhat sloppily) scrawled at the bottom.
“I really like you, we should hang out more.”
You look up at Tsukishima, joy painted across your face. Your smile was so wide it almost began to hurt. For the first time that night he looked you in the eyes, nearly trembling out of fear that you would think the note was too cheesy. It took all of his energy to appear calm on the outside, trying to relax his posture and maintain a neutral look on his face. You looked at him, then back to the note, then back to him, struggling to find the right words to say.
He cleared his throat, obviously impatient. “So…”
“I’d love to!” You exclaimed, cutting him off and grabbing his right hand with your own two. You shake it up and down, the smile never leaving your face and your eyes scrunched with happiness. “I would love to, Tsuki!"
Your joy was infectious, as soon as you grabbed his hand he felt his mind cloud over and he couldn’t do anything but smile along. The ringing in his ears was louder than ever before and he could feel his face heat up despite trying desperately to maintain his composure. Since the rest of the club already went home, however, he allowed himself to get swept away in your enthusiasm and charm. Only somewhat, of course. Tsukishima was thankful at this moment that he always made it clear he was not a fan of people being in his personal space. Not because he didn’t enjoy your company, but if you came any closer he was worried you would hear how fast his heart was beating.
Thump, thump, thump.
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milliesfishes · 4 months ago
Note
BAKING WITH BILLY BAKING WITH BILLY BTB BTB
౨ৎ꣑ৎbaking with billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid
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You strained your arm up, trying to reach the flour on the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the tip of your finger just barely brushed the jar.
There was a presence behind you, and then Billy's hand was grabbing the flour, one arm around your waist. He kissed the top of your head. "I've got it darlin'."
"Thank you," you smiled, pecking his cheek. Earlier you said you wanted to make him a cake and he'd insisted on helping out, as was his way.
Getting the other ingredients from the lower shelf, you headed back to the counter, spreading it all out. Tapping your chin, you tried to remember the order of things. Billy chuckled. "You okay, darlin'?"
"Tryna remember," you furrowed your brow and then brightened. "Eggs are first!"
"Alright," Billy smiled, reaching out and tapping an egg against the bowl. He was a little too enthusiastic about it, and half the egg ended up on his hand, most of the shell in the bowl.
Giggling, you reached for a towel, picking up his hand and cleaning it. "Gently, honey." Taking another egg, you demonstrated how to crack it correctly. Billy tried again, getting less yolk on his hand this time. You rewarded him with a gentle peck to his lips. "Very good."
Measuring the rest of the ingredients, you took the big spoon and began to stir. Billy kissed your neck once carefully as you mixed all the ingredients together carefully. You paused, looking back at him. "You're distracting me."
"You're just so pretty," he murmured, kissing your hair.
"Can you get the cake pan over there?" you asked, nudging your nose against his chin.
"Uhuh!" Billy grabbed it, setting it on the counter and looking at you like a n excited puppy.
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Thank you."
He lifted his thumb to your cheek, brushing some flour from your cheek as you poured the batter into the cake pan. You picked it up, sticking it right in the oven and shutting the door, turning back to him.
Billy grinned, picking you up around your waist and setting you on the counter, standing between your legs. "Hope the cake's as sweet as you."
You kissed him lightly. "I've got a very good helper so maybe it will be." Then you furrowed your brow. "I hope I remembered everything right. I really should write down the recipe one of these days."
Laughing, he leaned in, nosing against your cheek. "'m sure it'll be fine." Billy peppered kisses across your face, and you smiled, opting to kiss him until the smell of the baked cake wafted through the kitchen.
Untangling yourself from him, you hopped off the counter and bent, opening the oven and peering in, reaching for the cake. "Ow!"
You had forgotten to use a towel and the heat of the pan pricked your finger. Billy winced, immediately grabbing a rag and taking the dish out, putting it on the counter. He then turned his attentions to you, wetting the same rag and then holding it to your finger, looking concerned. "Ohhh, sweetie, sweetie 're you okay?"
Smiling, you nodded, the pain dull. "I'm alright. I only touched it for a second."
Billy was still frowning, and he pressed a kiss to your affected finger. "Ya sure?"
"Aww, Billy I'm okay," you assured him, taking the rag away and hugging him tightly. "I'm just fine. It's no big deal."
His brow softened when you leaned into him, and you could practically feel his smile as he buried his head in your hair, kissing your neck. "Mkay, baby. You be more careful from now on though, ya hear? Can't have my girl gettin' hurt when she's tryna make somethin' sweet f' me."
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dcangel · 1 year ago
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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.”
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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.
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migosis · 1 year ago
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Imagine: Erik loves your 4c hair as much as you do
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- You'd spend the night at his house but you'd always forget your bonnet. Erik would lend you his durag and tie it for you correctly so it wouldn't leave a crease on your forehead. The delight you felt the next time you came over, when you saw the pillows on your side of the bed were fluffed and lined with pink satin pillow cases was unmatched.
- One time you mentioned not being able to part the back of your hair so he watched YouTube videos to learn how to do crisp parts using the rat tail comb
- As a unexpected gift he brought you 3 different types of mousse and said "I heard they're using this for wash n go's now."
- Once when you were doing mini braids, he brought you food so you wouldn't have to cook. He insisted you should rest your arms.
- Before vacation he made sure you had a visor beach hat with an open top design so you could wear your braids or a puff up while poolside.
- When you talked about different styles, he asked you to send him pictures so he could help you decide.
"Let me know when you're doing your hair I wanna help you dentangle."
"Help me detangle?"
"Yeah, you know I got magic fingers." He winked.
"Erik, you are so corny."
"You the one that's blushing, so what that make you?"
"Anyways, I got you this off Tik Tok Shop and I wanna know if they scammed me or not." He handed you a package. You used your nails to tear through the plastic that revealed an Unbrush.
"These been going crazy on there. Okaaaay, I'm a little excited to do my hair now. Thanks, babe."
You divided your hair into 4 sections and he secured the crocodile clips. You let him began with the sections in the back.
You watched him in the mirror, admiring how he handled the fuzzy coils with care, starting at the ends like you taught him. This was your favorite form of intimacy.
"I think they did they big one. Here try it."
You slid the brush through your stands with no hard pulling or tugging.
"Yeah and look barely any hair came out. I think you did your big one. Here do the rest."
He shook his head. You were too excited to be handing him back the brush.
"Be still then, big head."
-
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justsigma-bsd · 6 months ago
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Memories Of Red, Staining The Mind
Yet another memory/nightmare short story. Also very much my first attempt in describing a scene in the way I did.
No idea what possessed me to write this, but I did manage it in one day.
TW: Human Traffickers, Violence, Death, Blood
He was shoved into the interrogation room roughly. There was a metallic taste in his mouth from where he'd been biting his lip, but he paid it no mind. His attention stuck on the grey tarp in front of him, in front of the chair that was always in the room. 
The air, too, had an odd metallic smell to it now that he thought about it. Almost like the rusty bars of his cell, or the chain connecting his shackles. 
"We want to try our hands at a little experiment today, Exchanger" 
His face twitched slightly at the nickname, but he kept his gaze forward and on the tarp. Refusing to acknowledge the name he was being called yet again. 
It wasn't like it was the only name they called him, but this one especially reminded him that his ability of exchanging information was the only reason he was still here... and that he didn't even have a name to begin with. 
Slowly, his eyes wandered over the tarp. His stomach did a weird flip when he noticed the rough shape of what it was covering. But... no. He was being too hasty. It couldn't be a person, right? 
Heavy hands landed on his shoulders, yet not as heavy as the shackles digging into his skin. "I'm sure you'll do your best, no?" the voice was uncomfortably close to his ear, and he offered a quick, jerky nod. Almost immediately the simple weight on his shoulders changed from simply heavy to an ever so slightly painful grip. 
"Yes Sir" he found himself saying, before the man could reprimand him. The grip relaxed, but he didn't dare to let himself feel relived. Not yet. The hands vanished, and his 'boss' strolled past him. There was an odd shine in his eyes when he grabbed the tarp. 
When it was pulled away, his assumption was confirmed. It was indeed a person. One of his fellow prisoners, if he remembered correctly. He couldn't remember her name, though... and he couldn't help but think that she'd seen better days. 
Her skin was unusually pale, safe for the bruises of which he surely had perfect matches. There were large spots of crimson soaking her off-white clothes and once blond hair, and it made his stomach turn. Slowly, his gaze wandered to her face. He found her eyes wide open, staring off into nothingness. 
"She's..." he trailed off, sick to his stomach. He wanted to throw up, but he doubted he could. He hadn't eaten since his latest mess-up a few days ago, after all. "Dead" 'boss' hummed in confirmation, but he didn't seem all too concerned of that. 
Dead. 
She was dead. 
Void of life. 
He knew of death, as a concept. It was entirely different, jarring, to actually see someone who's life had left their eyes. 
He'd barely spoken to her before they'd put him into the cell on his own, but he could perfectly remember her voice, her optimism. Could still remember how she'd promised they'd all get out of this place together, one day. That hadn't been long into his stay, and he hadn't even fully understood why they'd want to get out. 
Ever since unlocking his ability, he understood perfectly. 
His chest ached when he realized that she'd never leave this place and would never spread her optimism again, although he couldn't explain why. 
He felt the urge to ask "What happened to her? Why did you kill her?", but a single glance up to his 'boss' left him snapping his mouth shut with a sharp click. Right. No speaking out of turn. He'd already done so once, which was bad enough. 
He knew better than speaking without being prompted. 
He should be better than this. 
Something hard, perhaps the muzzle of a gun, dug into his back and he fought down a wince, stumbling closer to the body. "Come here, sit" 'boss' sounded unusually excited, and he felt his stomach flip yet again. He didn't want to sit, but orders were orders. 
"Your skill allows you to read and take information, isn't that right?" 
The question felt useless. They both knew the answer, after all. Still, he murmured a soft "Yes Sir" and stared down at the ground. It was the only place where he could look without having to stare at who once was a fellow prisoner. 
"I want you to try and read Seven's information" 
That wasn't her name. Seven wasn't her name, it was just a number. The same number painted on the back of her shirt, if he were to turn her over. It wasn't her name, nor her identity. He wanted to say that, wanted to shout it at his 'boss'. She was dead, couldn't at least death free her of being nothing but a prisoner? 
But he refrained from lashing out, instead dug his nails into his knees. It would do more harm than good to say anything, he knew that much. 
His gaze wandered to his hands, and he felt sick just at the thought of doing this. What if it didn't work? Would it be counted as yet another failure on his part? But even worse... what if it did work? Would this become part of a new routine? 
No. No he wouldn't let them. Even if it did work, he wouldn't tell them. Not this time. 
"Which information do you need, Sir?" he murmured, and hovered his hand over a stiff, pale one. For a few long seconds he thought that he wouldn't receive a response. Then: "It's only an experiment. Take whatever you want" 
He frowned slightly, unsure. Not daring to touch the lifeless hand just yet. Because what even was he supposed to choose? He hadn't known her, not really. Idly, he wondered if it even mattered what he chose. It either wouldn't work, or he'd never tell. 
I want to know what Death feels like.  
The thought was sudden, morbid. He felt ill just thinking of it, but at the same time... he couldn't help but wonder. He knew pain, he knew hunger, he knew thirst and he knew exhaustion. All of those could lead to death, he knew that very well. 
It was one of the things made clear to him on the regular. His life could end any time they wished, any time they deemed him too useless. 
He didn't want to die, but part of him was curious what it felt like. What it had felt like for Seven. 
His hand touched down, the question hammering in his head, and he stared at the wall. Refusing to look at Seven. 
Perhaps that was why, at first, he didn't notice a different after the information washed over him like a wave. It wasn't much information, not enough to knock him off his feet, that's for sure. Or so he thought. 
'Boss' circled past him, and he felt confusion creep through his mind. Only slowly did he realize that he was sitting tied to a chair, and his heart sank when he realized his horrible, horrible mistake. There was a very strong difference between wanting to know and wanting to experience. 
He wasn't a silent watcher on the sidelines in this memory, who'd watch someone die. 
No, he was watching with a front row seat, from Seven's eyes. 
He hissed in pain when a hand roughly yanked his head up his hair, but it wasn't his own voice, nor of his own volition. "Seven, Seven, Seven... I thought you knew better than to try shit like that" 'boss' tutted, his expression impassive, "you know that your little stunt would end in this, didn't you?" 
He wanted to ask what she did to deserve death, but instead his mouth opened and the voice was yet again not his own when he spoke, lips pulling into a smile that he doubted to have ever had on his own face: "'Course I knew the consequences. Was worth it, though" 
"Perhaps you think so, but I'd say keeping you around was quite the pointless endeavor" 
There was a flash of silver, and he felt his heart sink. Or perhaps he felt Seven's sink. He couldn't tell where his own consciousness started and where it faded into Seven's memory. 
And then there was a sharp, sudden pain. A pain that left him feeling sick. Left him wanting to curl up. To pass out. Seven glanced down even as he mentally begged her not to, and he wished he could just simply close his eyes. There was a knife, piercing right through his ribs. And it hurt. Every single breath hurt. 
He - or rather Seven - coughed and the metallic taste in his mouth left him wanting to throw up. Something dropped down from Seven's mouth. A small splatter of red on white clothes. Then another and another. 
Seven coughed and hacked, blood steadily bubbling and dripping from of her mouth and he felt her getting weaker, felt the way she was slowly choking, drowning, on her own blood. 
Her death was violent, and it was painful. So, so painful. He doubted he'd ever forget. He doubted he'd ever be able to banish the pain and feeling from the depths of his mind. It was an experience he'd forever keep. 
It left him even more terrified of his own fate. He didn't want to die. Especially not like this.
The second he was expelled from the memory, he scrambled back, away from the body, only to turn and land on his hands and knees. One hand firmly pressed against the spot where Seven had been stabbed. Dry heaving and shaking as a sob tore itself from his throat. 
That was Death, and it was terrifying. 
A hand grabbed him by his hair, but he was too out of it to properly react until a harsh slap connected with his face. Stunned he froze, breath still fast, panicked and shaky, but his eyes found those of his 'boss'. 
There was no need for lying. 
His reaction was answer enough. 
Sigma shot upright with a strangled gasp, a scream stuck in his throat that he just barely managed to suppress, his chest heaving. His eyes were wide and he flinched when he felt something wet on his cheek, running down and gathering on his chin. He reached up a shaking hand and wiped over his face. 
Under the faint moonlight he couldn't spot anything dark on the tips of his fingers, and there was no smell of iron or rust tainting the air. 
Tears. Just tears. No blood, just tears. 
He hated that memory. He hated knowing what dying in such a manner, to such an injury, felt like. He hated that he had even been capable of experiencing it. 
Perhaps he hated his ability, too. 
Another tear rolled down his face and he scooted back on his bed until his back hit the wall, drew his legs up and against his chest. His blanket half-tangled around him. 
Sigma still felt sick. He always did, after that particular memory. It was one of the worst ones he had. Even now, after three years. He barely stifled a sob, his eyes burning. 
He rarely let himself cry, but in the dead of night, behind closed doors where nobody would find out? 
Well, nobody needed to know. 
The answer to his question was simple: Agony. 
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