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rafesapologist · 9 months

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the set up — rafe cameron; part seven

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: swearing as usual, fighting, angst, jj being a dick

author's note: so sorry for the slight delay in uploading this chapter. a bunch of stuff occurred in my personal life and tbh i didn't have the energy to do much after. however i will make up the delay and rushing this chapter a bit to you all in the next one, promise. love u

Sunlight pierced through the panels of the spacious, unaccustomed room as the sounds of a dawn chorus filled the tranquil silence that had filled the air amongst the pair of sleeping bodies that occupied the queen sized bed, belonging to you and Rafe. You found annoyance in the intensity of the sun's lurid rays of light that burned through your shut eyelids, acknowledging them with a small groan that escaped your lips as you turned your back to face the window instead.

Your heart nearly stopped when you felt the mattress move besides you as the broad figure lying behind you shifted, only to make the beating inside your chest pick up when you began to feel a brawny arm drape itself over your side and across your stomach steadily. Your body had unconsciously laid in place at the feeling of the sudden embrace, an act of intimacy you had rarely experienced in your life before that rendered you slightly uncomfy with the gesture, as physical touch was not your highest on the list of love languages that existed.

You remained a recumbent statue in the arms of the Cameron's son as you contemplated within your internal dialogue on how to remove yourself from the position you were in all while taking in the final moments of serenity as you basked in the comfort of the cozy bed, a contrast to the one you usually found yourself sleeping in at the chateau.

Eventually, you brought yourself to speak after regaining your voice from the prolonged period of time you went without using your vocal cords. "Rafe?" You whispered sheepishly as you gently turned to face the slumbering boy, poking his bicep lightly in hopes that he was a light-sleeper and that it would be useful in waking him, but much to your despair, it didn't.

"Rafe." You muttered once again, this time your voice had taken a greater, harsher resonance.

"Hmm?" Rafe hummed, a husky low-vibrato tone strumming from the back of his throat that was shamefully music to your ears.

"I gotta get going. Jay and John B want me to go boating with them today and I promised them I'd go." You explained meekly.

Rafe seemed to take interest in your statement, judging by the way he peeked a single eye open to look at you. "Tell them something came up." He carped, scooting his body closer to you once more as his hold became tighter around your figure, one that was much more petite in comparison to his broadness.

"Rafe," you groaned as you rolled your eyes at his stubborn nature, "you know I can't do that."

"I know," he groaned to himself, "you've got your Pogue duties to uphold."

You swatted his arm in response which quickly brought him out of his comatose-like state, his eyes flashing open as he looked directly at you with an appearance of bafflement written across his face. You giggled quietly to yourself at his comical reaction, taking amusement in the way that he was in shock by your comeback. Your body began to shift and wiggle underneath Rafe's arm in an attempt to free yourself from his grip, but unfortunately, he was much stronger than you had imagined.

"Wait," Rafe stated as he held your feeble body in place, "I wanted to ask you something before you leave."

"Ask me what?" You furrowed your brows at him.

"It's probably a little soon to even ask this, but there's nobody else I really want to take besides you," he began, watching your expression closely as his eyes flickered between your lips and irises as he traced gentle lines along the exposed part of your hip, "and since it's coming up I don't think there's a better time to ask.." He trailed off, breaking eye contact before he could finish.

"Would you go to Midsummers with me?" It was almost too perfect of a scenario when you heard those words come out of Rafe's mouth, unaware to what situation he had just got himself into. You practically screamed internally once the realization finally hit you that you were going in the right direction with the unsuspecting Kook, just as you and your friends had planned for. You felt a subtle smirk tug at the corners of your mouth as you basked in the bliss of knowing that Rafe Cameron was beginning to unshield himself to you, an accomplishment that you knew the Pogues would feel joyous to hear. You knew right then that you had to take full advantage of the opportunity basically handed right to you on a silver platter, and run with it.

"Of course I will."

"Wai-What? You will?" Rafe's azure pigmented eyes widened in shock, failing to grasp your willing compliance that had come so easily.

"Yes," you chuckled with an attitude full of gaiety, "of course I will." You figured you'd add to the moment of sentiment by leaning forward to press a light kiss to the apple of Rafe's cheek, which soon become painted over with a rosy tint as evidence of the heat that rose to the skin as the aftermath of experiencing your touch.

"Okay awesome," the elated Kook grinned as he patted your hip softly, "Sarah is going too, and I know you guys are friends or whatever, so if you want you can always go dress shopping with her."

"What color is your suit?" You asked.

"Baby blue, which I'm sure you'll look hot in as you always do. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you when I see you in a dress." Rafe teased, his thumb had began easing its way underneath the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing against the warm skin of your hipbone slowly.

"You're gonna have to control yourself then, Cameron. I don't want your dad thinking I'm some whore you picked up at the Cut." You bantered back at him, removing his hand off of your bare skin and causing him to pout in response.

"Well, my dad knows I wouldn't step foot in that shit hole. So I think you'd be safe from those allegations." Rafe smirked just before he reached over behind you to smack your ass playfully, removing himself off the bed before you could even begin, let alone attempt, to retaliate.

"Lets go, princess. I'll drive you where you need to go."

"Didn't you just say you wouldn't step foot in the Cut?" You retorted with your arms folded across your chest, glaring over at the boy with your brows furrowed in judgement.

"I guess doing it for you would suffice."

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Rafe kept his word by dropping you off at the boating dock as you waited for your friends arrival, taking you in by surprise when he peppered an array of small kisses to the top of your shoulder before you got out of the car. The affectionate, soft side of him came as a shock to you considering he was so austere and gelid with others from what you had seen of him since the day you two met. You wondered to yourself if it was his way of buttering girls up to get something out of them, or that he truly had taken a liking to you. Either ways it didn't matter, because you were only playing along for one reason.

The Pogues.

"John B! JJ!" You shouted as the sight of a familiar-looking boat came into your view and approached the dock. You were pleased as the faces of the two boys on it became clearer to you, confirming that it actually was your two friends.

"Y/n, hey!" John B yelled back as he waved in your direction, a welcoming smile plastered on his face.

"Well look at that, you actually showed up!" JJ called from beside your brunette friend, his affable demeanor causing you to feel giddy and your heart flutter. You shook your head at the blond's foolishness, giggling as you hopped onto the boat and greeted the two who you had missed dearly, despite seeing them within the 48 hours prior.

"You think I would rather spend my time with some Kook than you guys? That's hilarious, Jay."

"I dunno, you've been spending a lot more time with him lately. Have you two fallen in love yet?" John B added, egging on for your attitude to make its presence shown.

"First of all, never. Second of all, if you forgot this was your guys' idea in the first place. I wouldn't have even looked at him twice if it wasn't for you all." You sighed, crouching down to reach for one of the beer cans that the boys usually kept in the cooler.

"That's my girl." JJ replied as he approached you from behind, wrapping an arm over your shoulder once you stood up from the cooler. You found yourself smiling at his words of endearment, partially basking in the way that he praised you like no other. If there was one thing JJ was good at, it was hyping you up and making you feel special, something he took pride in doing whenever he was around you. Your mutual friends found it strange, the way that you two were so seemingly affectionate with one another yet never once brought up the idea of formally dating. You'd be lying if you had said you never pondered on the thought of what it would be like to be with JJ Maybank, your best friend since childhood and the first boy you kissed back in elementary school. You imagined that it would be easy if it were him who you ended up with. You pictured a future of you coming home from a long day at work and being lavished in his soft kisses and warm embrace that would feel like home in itself. But you knew that it was also risky, the idea of two Pogues getting involved in some romantic entanglement that would likely only shake up the state of your friend group.

But you still wondered nevertheless, even if you knew you wouldn't dare act on it.

"You guys will be proud of what I did, though." You announced, quickly capturing the attention of the Pogue boys with a muddled look on their faces.

"What did you do?" JJ eagerly asked as he stared down at you while he awaited your next statement.

"Rafe asked me to go to midsummers with him and I said yes." You answered, a smug smile forming across your chapstick-glazed lips as you tilted your head back to take a sip of the rather distasteful beer.

"You're kidding. Are you being serious, y/n? Holy shit." John B promulgated his shock shamelessly, impenitent on his excitement towards the success of the Pogues' plan on exploiting Rafe Cameron through his desires and urges in order to gain the necessary information from him. Everyone had figured you would be the best decoy in order to reach the Kook Prince himself, but they had never expected her would crumble so fast and effortlessly.

You took notice of the way that JJ's energy had faltered all of the sudden, him practically becoming mute in a matter of seconds after you had announced your victory. You frowned at his silence, expecting for him to be the one to celebrate the matter with you, but instead it seemed as though he was tangled up in a deep thought.

"Jay, what's wrong?" You whispered to the blond in a hushed tone that was barely audibly to surrounding individuals, such as John B.

"Yeah I'm okay." JJ vacillated.

"Don't lie, I can tell them something is wrong." You asked, insistant that there was more to it than JJ was letting out.

"Just drop it, y/n. I'm alright. Can you just live with that?" His austerity took you by surprise, a stark contrast to JJ's normally frivolous attitude. You peered up at him as you surveyed the look on his face, trying to draw a conclusion about whatever it was that he was feeling in that moment. You were left with little to no answers as to where his head was at, seeming as though he was masking his emotions as he tended to do when he was feeling vulnerable. However, you did catch a glimpse of the way he winced momentarily, his face washing over in subtle agony for a brief second before returning back to its previous state.

"Are you.. hurt? You observed the cue that suggested JJ was in some state of discomfort.

JJ responded rather satirically with a dry laugh, disconnecting his gaze from yours as he began to advert his view towards the floor of the boat.

"Don't know," he shrugged, "ask Rafe and his Kook friends."

"Is that what this is about, JJ?" You furrowed your brows in discontent, sending daggers at the blond whose bitterness exhibited within his mannerisms as though it was on display in a glass case right in front of your face.

"What are you talking about?"

"You got all pissy with me the second I mentioned going to midsummers with Rafe, now you're making snide comments about him as if we're actually together." You scoffed.

JJ shook his head, "It wouldn't surprise me if you were dating him. I mean, you were supposed to be in this for us and now you spend every day with him. You've probably already slept with him too."

Your arms fell to your sides as the tension in your body released all at once, taken over by an affliction in your chest that rendered you nearly speechless. The irritation written on your face dropped into an expression full of chagrin and detriment as JJ's perfervid locution incinerated your pride. You stood before your so called 'friend' with your mouth slightly agape while the reality of his words settled in painfully.

"I did this for you, asshole! How else am I supposed to gain his trust without seeing him and spending time with him, JJ? What good does that do for us, or even for me, if I keep my distance just because it makes you uncomfortable? I can't believe you would say that to me, considering what I'm trying to do for you right now. Just for you to throw it back in my face." You spat, throwing your hands up in the air in an act of defense.

"Y/n... You know that's not what I meant, I-"

"I should go." You cut him off, gathering your tote bag quickly as you began to avoid JJ's burning stare. "John B, can you drop me off at the closet dock? I'm leaving."

"Y/n wait, please." JJ pleaded, urgency oozing from the whine in his tone. However you didn't care, the only thing you could think about was getting as far as hell away from him as possible before you said or did something that would permanently damage your friendship.

You kept your back turned to him, acting as though he simply wasn't there, standing behind you with a pitiful look on his face.

"John B, please." You whispered to your brunette companion, barely audible so that only he could hear your plea.

"I got you." He spoke quietly back at you, providing you a sense of reassurance with a subtle wink.

John B had kept his word, thankfully. Lucky for you, there was a boat dock barely five minutes away and with Routledge's driving, you were sure to get there fast. He stopped as promised upon the first dock that appeared, sending you on your way after you hugged him briefly and exchanged some see you later's. JJ, of course, continued begging for you to hear him out within those painfully long five minutes, to which you ignored for both of your guys' sake. You basically got off that boat as soon as you possibly could, wanting to flee as fast as you could as anger and resentment laid heavy in your mind. You knew that you'd speak to JJ eventually, but not right then. Not with so many emotions boiling up at the pit of your stomach.

You power-walked to the other end of the dock before your feet quickly hit the sand. You sighed a breath of relief, feeling as though a weight had partially been lifted since you had removed yourself from the conflict that had occurred. You looked around for a brief moment, bitterness still heavy in your heart, before reaching into your tote and pulling out your phone as you scanned through your contacts urgently.

"Rafe? Yeah, hi. I hate to bother you right now, but do you care to come and get me right now?"

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obriengf · 11 months

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My Beloved || Thomas x Reader

Summary: Thomas is filled with emotion as you both seek out a way to show just how much love you truly hold for one another. Words: 7.5k Warnings: SMUT18+!!!, loss of virginity, masturbation, p in v, this is honestly very fluffy and sweet okay Notes: okay so... this started off good then towards the end i got desperate to finish it and it turns rushed i think?????? a little bad??????? anyway, these guys would have NO idea about sex ed tbh just what they’ve learnt from each other... because i feel like WCKD had better things to do, like brainwashing everyone, instead of teaching kids about the birds and the bees. long story short just go with it and no judging on my smut please i dont write it often!!!

There’s a boy, and he’s so beautiful it hurts.

Among the fiery glow of the bonfire flames, his eyes luminate with golden specks - so bright, so mesmerising, that you cannot stop staring from beyond the heated curtain. You catch his gaze and the way his smile quirks upward, bashfulness flushing his cheeks and provoking his teeth to sink sinfully into the plusness of his lip. It brings a warmth to your chest - a sensation of adoration, burning hotter than the flames separating you both. It travels to your fingers with an itch that wants you to jump to the boy, embrace him, kiss him, love him. He had been everyone’s saviour, but to you, he saved more than just your life; he brought colour back to your dull days, allowing you to see the vibrancy that radiated with pure intentions from your daily sunlight. He returned hope to your anxious mind and settled the prior need to look over your shoulder for danger every spare second. He made you feel so incredibly loved to the point where you stopped breathing and your heart would swell with anticipating warmth. There’s a boy, and he’s so perfect it hurts, in the most breathtaking way.

Thomas could feel you staring. He revelled in the way that your eyes sparkled, and how you looked at him as if he put the stars in the sky. He was still getting used to others viewing him as their paladin, but you were different - it was much simpler, housing purity and sincere devotion, seeing the boy as your ending. You fell in love in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by chaos and imminent peril, but the clawing need to stay by the other’s side brought you both to your much-deserved salvation; and better yet, into the forever hold of each other’s arms.

The boy couldn’t understand his emotions as they intensified, but he knew that it was longing. He knew that they yearned for you. He didn’t have the time or space to stop and consider how his body was growing and reacting to being around your own, the desperation to run and hide and fight had eventually become all that he could think about - until it was all over, and you were all safe. Now, those feelings returned and his thoughts drifted to how your kiss has started to ignite something in his gut, and how it spread through his veins to the point where he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and never let go.

It was a topic of conversation that he had previously brought up through loose lips and in between inebriated breaths; Minho on the receiving end with a bit more sobriety, but he was still dazed as he listened with widened eyes and unsplit attention. It was near comic how Thomas had him on the edge of his seat - he couldn’t put into words just how he was feeling, but his friend could see the depth behind the amazed look that glassed over whisky hues and how a curt smile perked at his lips. Minho very much understood that desiring need, the way complete and utter endearment could make a person feel like they were floating effortlessly on cloud nine. Thomas was the first person he went to when he was ready to take that step further with the sweet girl from the kitchens - and now it had turned full circle, and Minho had never been happier that love had struck his closest friends.

The flames began to die, juxtaposed to the rising moon that now bathed the Safe Haven in beautiful luminescence. Thomas could see you much clearer now, and it made your stomach flutter at how fervently he appeared. You found yourself growing more heated the further you allowed yourself to fall for the brunette boy; your eyes lingering that little bit longer, the need to nestle into the side of his body growing stronger, and your heart rapidly reverberating in your chest just that much harder. It was as if every nerve was ablaze with want, and it was such an unfamiliar sensation that you were starting to feel nauseous. And you didn’t want it to end.

It wasn’t long before Thomas stood, dusting at his covered thighs to rid the ash that sprinkled from the rising smoke. He moved slowly, almost with hesitance, but it was the bashful and budding thump from his heart that drew him toward you. Through the curtain of your lashes, you peered up at him as he stopped only a mere foot or so in front of you, his hand extended, and a chest filled with held breath that he hoped you wouldn’t notice. He was bathed in a fiery afterglow, his figure enveloped by golden flickers. You sighed dreamily.

“Want me to walk you back to your hut?” His voice was quiet, a gentle hum as it held the possibility of diffidence. He always held a sort of shyness when it came to you, especially when it allowed him to hold your hand and selfishly receive all of your undivided attention.

A rosy hue climbed your neck, speckling your cheeks with a blush that exceeded even the dancing flames of heat before you. It felt so incredibly right as your palm confidently slid over his own, granting Thomas permission to lightly grasp at your wrist and provide some strength in pulling you up. He always escorted you, these days. Part of him dreaded that if he didn’t, then something would happen to you. Whilst other parts craved the company you gave and the adoration you unforgivingly showered him in. Maybe, it was just his way of showing the supplemental gladers that surround you both that you would always leave with him, because you’re simply his.

Regardless - your hands were quick to wrap around his arm, tugging the boy close to you as you clasped your fingers with his. Bidding farewell to your friends and fellow survivors hardly took any time before Thomas was guiding you away, the path he followed so well-known by now that he swore he could travel it in his sleep. The lanterns that usually adorned your way had already died down, softened by the late night, yet complemented beautifully with the rising blanket of radiant moonlight. It would be hard for you to form words around just how contented you felt in this moment; calmed by the gentle breeze wafting from the ocean shores of the Safe Haven, and lulled when it rustled nearby palm trees in harmony with the now distant joyousness abandoned back at the bonfire.

Thomas’ thumb absentmindedly rubbed at your hand as your head dropped to his shoulder, the faint smell of burnt wood tickling your nostrils after becoming woven into the cotton of his shirt. You managed a small hum, surprising yourself when you inner thoughts left your lips with quiet notes, “Do you think it’ll stay like this forever?”

“What will stay?” He replied, his eyes briefly glancing down to you, lips curling into a slight smirk at how in thought you seemed to be.

You paused, lips pursing as you racked your brain for the right words. Everything, is what you truly wanted to say, but even then you wished that some things were different. You wished for Newt to be there with you all, and Chuck, and Winston. You had also often thought about Teresa and just how much she would have contributed to this new society. You really didn’t want everything to say the same, but some things were just simply perfect in your eyes.

“The tranquility.” You ended up with, squeezing Thomas’ forearm with your spare grasp, “The calm after the storm. Being able to take a deep breath because you know you aren’t always looking over your shoulder. Nights like this… so beautiful, merciful. Seeing our friends smile in what felt like forever. Us.”

“Us?” He questioned, peering to you again before focusing on the upcoming silhouette of your hut. Thomas laughed lightly, “We aren’t changing, not anymore. I have you and I’m keeping you forever. No take-backs, sorry sweetheart.”

A tender giggle echoed lightly in the air as it fell from your lips, prompting you to nestle even closer into Thomas’ side. He always made you feel protected, and you know from the bottom of your heart that he will also continue to until his dying breath.

You pressed your lips just under his ear, breath igniting his skin, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was a force that managed to shake the walls; such harshness in comparison to the soft velvety feeling of his lips sliding against yours. Thomas’ brows furrowed slightly after forcefully kicking the door to your hut closed behind him, but it was the sweetness of your amused laughter that drew him so effortlessly back to you.

“A little eager?” The warmth of your breath fanned over his still rosy cheeks, reminding Thomas that you were so close. You watched as his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones - delicate, yet sharp - framing the doe-like brown eyes that you’ve grown to love, and beyond, and it made the boy appear so incredibly pure. He was a snowflake shining against the sun, a flower’s petals fresh as they begin to bloom, the dancing flames of a picturesque fire that you were only just admiring him through.

Thomas managed a smile through a breathless exhale, as if you were there taking his breath away with your bare hands, grabbing and keeping it as your own lifeline. He lent in, this time with closed eyes, the tip of his nose nudging against yours, and it was your turn to hitch at his whispered words, “You have no idea.”

His hands were rough. Callouses adorned them from the past year or so, memories and scars that captured how he survived and that those hands were the reason you were safe. They often trembled when he slept due to the nightmares that haunted him - the monsters that made him bleed, and the people that he watched perish before his tear-glazed eyes. Those hands carried the lives of legions of people at one point, and sometimes Thomas thinks that they are under pressure to still do so. Those hands were strong and could hold so much from so many people.

Yet, as one grasped your hip and the other cupped your cheek, they had never felt more tender. Oh - and how you desired the benign fingertips to soothe over your skin and touch you in places that have gone undiscovered by most. And if Thomas wanted to tread in those uncharted waters, there was no way that you would decline, not when you dreamt of his touch for so long.

You breathed him in once more, intoxicated by the most mundane of scents that built up who this boy came to be. The smoke was strong as it continued to linger, but the salt water that had dried on his skin and the subtle waft of dirt from his earlier exploration this morning was a concoction that on the best of days, drove you crazy, but right now you wanted nothing but to bathe yourself in it. With a small swallow of the lump in your throat, fingers grasped at the unbuttoned opening of Thomas’ henley, and you pulled him even closer than before until chests were flush and hearts beat in thumping unison.

His lips found yours again with ease, wrapping around your own and taking you as if he were a starved man. It drew a small moan to elicit from your throat and he knew that he would do anything to hear that sound again, over and over, a broken record that could both lull him to a lustful sleep and keep him awake at all hours with a curled fist and an overworked forearm. It wasn’t until his tongue slipped; dragging with deliciousness over your bottom lip, and taking refuge against your own as he licked so casually into your mouth. That’s the moment you blacked out and allowed your stance to lose all sense of muscle, becoming jelly-legged and at the mercy of Thomas’ arms wrapping further around your submissive frame.

Thomas slowly walked you both backward until your knees collided with the frame of your makeshift bed. You released a small gasp, enough to wake you from your short absence from reality, as the boy took it as his cue to lift you carefully until you were laying down against the thin sheet that you deemed as a blanket. This was the first time that he was ever situated above you - usually pulling you into his arms as you stood with friends, or tugging you down onto his lap so that he could cuddle against your back. Kisses would be shared, but they were never this hot, nor this needy, and Thomas’ breaths stopped momentarily as he took in how stupidly beautiful you looked underneath his heaving body.

He wasn’t sure what changed between you both so quickly with this new angle, but he had a sudden overwhelming sensation to kiss you with every ounce of passion he could muster, and meld himself with you until a single unit was left in your wake. He was throbbing in his head at the salacious thoughts that drowned his mind with images of you in positions seemingly compromisable. Throbbing in his heart at how emotion could so easily play such an intense role in how he never wanted to be a part from you for as long as he lived. And throbbing a little lower at how it all seemed to come together as one want, an impulse, a craving for your touch and taste and sounds that could drive a man mad in the absolute best way possible. Thomas was already halfway there.

You could feel it too in the way he was gazing over your frame - the heat that loved to submerged your body was now between your legs, and you had the itch to squirm from the slight discomfort it gave you. It was formidable once before, during a night where sleep was off the schedule, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you yearned for being between Thomas’ arms and held to his chest. The heat was like a heartbeat as it pulsated, and under the curtain of nightfall, you had eased the pain with your fingers and a hasty soothing rub. You remember seeing Thomas flash behind your fluttering eyelids before they settled closed, and it made you press harder, chasing after a feeling that was odd at first… but so quickly became pleasureful until you squealed his name and your chest sank from a high that pulled you up from your bed. It was euphoric, and you were quick to understand what some of the others meant when they talked about making themselves feel so good. All you wanted now was that feeling again, and Thomas to be the one to grant you such elation.

With vulnerable movements, you reached up to cup the boy’s cheek, your thumb dragging from his nose to the softened skin under his eye, teasing his lower lash line. You bit your lip at how stunning he truly was and how the subtleness of moonlight played shadows across his face. He nuzzled into your hold and placed a small kiss to the skin, the tip of his nose dragging with fragility over your palm until his lips pursed once more. You needed him closer until all you could feel was him, all you could taste and hear, too. You were aching to settle the feeling that had now reached your lower abdomen as it screamed to be soothed, to be taken care of.

“Kiss me.” You slipped, a softened whisper that Thomas almost missed until you said it again, “Kiss me, Tommy. I need you.”

You didn’t know what the words truly entailed except for how right it felt to say them - Thomas, clearly on a wavelength that matched yours with perfection, as he dropped to your lips with a smile and groan that you happily swallowed whole. Arms and legs clung to him for dear life as he slotted between your thighs, lips smacking and tongues dragging and suddenly that alluring cool night air became thick and humid. He covered your frame and slowly sank his body weight onto yours - a puzzle piece that was cut perfectly for you, embedded so sublimely against your curves and dips.

Hips clashed with harmonising force, a kind of friction that was heavily sought as it was chased. It drew a throaty groan to echo past Thomas’ lips, his brows furrowed as he tried to overcome the near pained feeling of pressure against his crotch as you absentmindedly pushed up against him. It was bittersweet torture - the kind where he knew how to relieve it, but was riddled with nervousness about sharing it with you. He sat a curled fist beside your head as his other held your hip, hoping that you wouldn’t notice how frisky your touch and taste were making the boy. Thomas was holding back every instinct to lose control over a sensation that had only ever met his right hand.

You were lost hopelessly in his lips. They held slight chappedness from the salty air, but an ever-forgiving softness that so easily held you captive and vulnerable. Whenever he kissed you, it was as if you were nothing but his - simply a figure that had fallen victim to his tender touch and enrapturing words, you wouldn’t dare move in case it burst the bubble that separated you from the outside world. It was simply an addiction and you craved it always, a constant need for Thomas, a constant need to share your love.

Absentmindedly, your ankles pulled his lower back further into you, and it was the meeting of his hardness against your heated core that ripped a sudden moan from you both as synchronised calls filled the space of your hut. You clung even further to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck among the thin sheen of sweat. It was the type of stimulation that you needed again, or else you’d stop breathing. Tentatively, your hips rose again before you gently rubbed over the pulsating hardness through the thick denim of his jeans, and you swore that stars exploded behind your eyes as you whined against his neck.

Thomas breathed out heavily, his throat thick, “Shit - shit, that feels good.”

You nodded weakly, desperation clawing at you as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat, remembering the patches of skin that made him shudder with fragility. Thomas was melting against your frame - a puddle of a boy between your limbs as he began to rock over you, slow drags until a comfortable pace was met and he could feel your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

His senses were enamoured by you - completely and utterly taken, infatuated to no end. You were all that he could feel and it made the air thicker than he thought possible as he swallowed your panting breaths. The need came rather quickly as Thomas grasped at the back collar of his shirt, his ears perking at the small whine you let escape as he sat back on his knees to remove the obstructive piece of cotton. Your lips were still pursed and they chased him with weak effort from your sobered drunken haze, much to the boy’s admiring amusement.

With a chuckle, Thomas lent down to you, his lips ghosting over the rosy hue of your cheek before pressing gently against it. He allowed the tip of his nose to nuzzle against the soft skin before he spoke in a whispered tone, “Who’s the eager one now, hm?” A shudder travelled down your spine as warm breath danced below your ear; a sensation that was enough to rip another moan from your thumping chest, a sound so melodious that Thomas found it a hasty necessity to imprint it permanently in his mind.

You replied breathlessly, “I can’t help that you’re hot, Tommy.”

He gripped your waist after his fingers slid over the exposed skin from your hiked-up shirt with desperation to run his touch over every inch of your body. He didn’t want to push you to follow suit with the removal of your own shirt, but it didn’t stop the clench of his jaw and sudden strong grip as he held himself back from pursuing the hunger that was slowly developing within him.

You knew him, more than yourself, and how his demeanour would change, and how every emotion or action was a chapter in his book that you’ve read too many times to count. It promoted your hand to lift and squeeze at his bicep, Thomas’ eyes drifting to your widened gaze and the glint that sparkled among your coloured hues, “Take it off, it’s okay. I trust you.”

He nodded, his chest fluttering at the faith you so easily had in him. You always did - have faith in Thomas - after all, he saved your life and in turn, you saved him by providing the limitless unconditional love that he deserved. His encouragement allowed you to find yourself after being lost within such a cruel world, and he never stopped believing in you. He never would. Thomas’ fingers flexed below your ribs, the toughed skin of his fingertips dragging with savour as he pushed your shirt further up your body. As it bunched under your chest, you managed to sit up slightly, quickly tugging the shirt until it let your skin breathe free, and it was tossed somewhere presently unknown across the room. The boy’s breath suddenly hitched as eyes raked shamelessly over your now vulnerable frame. His mouth felt dry, yet he was in complete awe.

“You’ve seen me like this before.” You noted though the silence, your voice barely loud enough to break the intimate atmosphere. Your chest flushed slightly, only growing more vibrant as it reached your cheeks. You grew bashful under his doting stare, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip adoringly.

“Yeah, but…” Thomas thought back to the times where you all would swim at the beach, enough clothes to cover you, but to which still left little to the imagination. He shook his head once more, still in complete wonderment at you laying beneath him, “This is different. What I-I feel… it’s so much more than I can handle, you’re just so beautiful.”

Your hand cupped his cheek and history repeated itself with such endearment; thumb rubbing under his eye to which he turned and kissed against your palm. It was quickly becoming your thing, your couple thing, something so small but so symbolic that ran the same path as screaming from the treetops that you’re in love. It was your silent communication of forever, and always, and until the end of our dying breaths to a world if there is one beyond ours. It was a promise and a reminder - that you both were there, and you weren’t ever going to leave. You were telling him through a simple touch of your hand that you were real, and his kiss was a reply of sincere gratitude.

Thomas lent down to peck the tip of your nose, smiling widely as your face scrunched with joy. His lips were quick to attach themselves to your neck next, wanting you to feel the ecstasy that you supplied him. They trailed with a wet path - his tongue darting out against pressure points and sucking at the spots that drew groans of satisfaction from you. Your head lulled back against his bed when teeth tickled your collarbone, and it didn’t take long for you to surrender yourself completely to him. Thomas’s tongue dragged heavily down your sternum before tracing along the cups that prevented you from bareness, eyes peering through thick lashes to silently ask for permission to go further. You couldn’t dare say no… not when every ounce of sunlight and warmth sang to you through such a simple look.

You snuck a hand behind your back to unclasp the bra, suddenly releasing an unknown-held breath when the cool night air mixed with the heated moans that Thomas fanned against your chest. He swiftly reattached his lips as he relished in the new canvas for his kisses, his moistened trail continuing. You squeaked as he passed over your sensitive nipple, promoting your hand to grasp the back of his head and hold him closer to you. Thomas continued by sucking lightly before his tongue swirled in time with his hand squeezing your opposite side. He kneaded and squished the flesh tenderly, feeling his trousers tighten at the mewling sounds you made.

He swapped sides and continued whatever sweet assault he could muster to prolong your symphony of sounds. It was building inside you - the desire for more. You felt like you were ignited, but wanting to be more than a spark… you needed to be an explosion, and you needed Thomas to be the one to set you off. You wiggled as you huffed out his name, your fingers fiddling with the button of your shorts when the boy pulled aware with a raised brow.

“More… I need more. Please.” You begged, lifting your hips as Thomas helped pull the material away. He stood back by a step or two, whisky-glassed eyes absorbing your writhing body in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and a wet patch that matched the erotic stain over his crotch. He was robotic as movements forced him to remove his own pants, the playing field even, and his cheeks redder than the Safe Haven’s sunset when you immediately ogled at the tent that was pitched under his boxer briefs.

This sort of intimacy was alike a perilous expedition - unsteady footing at first, unsure how to press forward, but leading to a bewitching and alluring adventure with such rapturous salaciousness. It continued when Thomas’ hands were placed on your thighs, rubbing cautiously against your skin before dipping in between your legs. Just knowing that he was so damn close made you whine under your breath, quiet, yet pitched enough to catch Thomas’ attention.

Your fingers moved absentmindedly as they circled the moistened patch that you created, chest swelling with a held breath. You shuddered, trying to compose yourself, voice humming with please, “I-It feels good when you rub right there…”

“Is that what you do?” He questioned, eyes wide as he took in the information, and fingers dancing hesitantly close to your core. All you could do was nod and whine, hips squirming just from the thought of the pleasure that you’ve previously made yourself feel. It was an instant snap - the build of a rubber band being held back by Thomas’ fiery imprints, before the pressure was released, and the bounce back hit you hard when he pressed into the place that throbbed with wet need.

Your body trembled with a softened sigh, the attention you were receiving easily turning your mind to mush, and he had barely dipped below the surface. Thomas’ eyes widened as his movements traced in the same tempo as his heavy breaths, chest thumping and skin igniting with warmth - he was in wonderment at the sounds that he drew from you, the squirming and the delicate fluttering of your lashes. It was a side of you that he was seeing for the first time, that anybody was seeing for the first time, and he felt so damn privileged.

The boy stopped quickly as you grasped at his wrist, big brown orbs looking to you in worry; but it quickly dissipated when he saw your loving ghost of a smile as it perked at your lips, and how you gently pushed him away to be able to remove the final piece of clothing that separated you from him. The cool breeze over your exposed slick provoked a shudder up your spine, a second one eliciting when you realised that Thomas’ flushed face was staring at your most private area.

He didn’t hesitate when his finger dragged back over you, collecting moisture that made your body tick when slathered across your sensitive nub. The pressure increased and you were sinking, melting, dissolving into the sheet beneath you. Your body was heavy, yet you felt weightless, allowing Thomas to take every ounce of control to drive you into ecstatic oblivion. His touch drew slightly down and circled the sensitive hole that was swimming in your pleasure, your breath hitching as his fingertip breached until his first knuckle. The boy’s hair was tugged with a needy grasp, the sheets below him shifting as they were too curled within your other hand.

Thomas cursed under his breath as he rutted slowly against the side of the bed, his finger beginning to pump as he relished in how you squeezed him. He sighed loudly with a teeth-bitten bottom lip, “You like that?” It was rhetorical by what he saw before him, but he needed the affirmation, to know that you were going to unravel in bliss. And that he was why you were floating in a euphoric daze. You managed a whine in reply, head nodding as words were stuck among your hitching and heavy breaths. The tip of Thomas’ middle finger slightly curled as he shifted his position, and you released a sudden cry after he unknowingly rubbed against your spongey roof. He stopped immediately; scared that you were hurt, his chest tightening with worry until he noticed the cry settling into a moan, and your hips instinctively chased his touch for more attention.

Thomas was known for being brave - diving in head first, running on pure instinct and spontaneity. He wasn’t one to back down, and now he knew what provoked those sweet wanton sounds of a symphony to escape you, he would do whatever possible to keep it going. He pumped his finger harder, his cock twitching against the bedsheet whenever you clenched around him, that one special spot being harassed over and over again until he swore you stopped breathing. His bravery shone when he inserted his pointer finger, his own throat now paying homage as it growled out a groan of desperation at how you both stretched and tightened. His mind travelled to thoughts of how you’d feel wrapped around his throbbing member, and if he didn’t get himself sorted soon, then he’d be leaving behind a spray of stickiness in his pants.

“T-Thomas…” You panted, hips rising and chest heaving as you felt fire bubble in your abdomen. Your voice cracked at the overwhelming sensation, “More… I need more…”

He was careful to remove his fingers, but hasty when he rose up your body. Lips found yours instantly, as if by a magnetised force, two pairs that were destined to be slotted together with a taste that you could so easily get drunk off of. He licked between your lips until you granted him access to explore you properly, sliding with juxtaposed delicate hunger, and swallowing your breath and moans until they settled as his own. Thomas was slightly started as your nails dragged down his naked chest, goosebumps trailing in their wake before the elastic waist of his final piece of cotton was being attended to. The need was growing substantially as he pulled back - much to the disappointment of both himself and you, your lips pursed and eyes growing wide as you stared to him with such childlike doeness.

It was becoming too real now as his hands began to shake, but any doubt was wiped clean when Thomas saw the adoring expression that flushed your face and prompted such a beautiful glint in your eye. You were his, and he was yours. That’s how it was and it’s how it would remain. Thomas was ready to give everything and more to you, as you were to him. Always.

The boy drew a deep breath before his boxers were dropped and he toed them to the side, his body bare in front of you. Thomas was pure - the epitome of a dream, a handsome man with arms that could protect you for the rest of your days. It wasn’t until you looked closer that you properly noticed the scars that showed his true story; both small and large imprints that represented sacrifice, and loss, and success. You lent forward with tentative movements until your fingers danced over the marks, and for a moment Thomas flinched, but easily settled as you traced each one with care. With pursed lips, you pressed against one near his navel; a recent wound that would forever remind you of his escape from death, where a bullet pierced his skin and left him unconscious for days. It was a time when you waited by his bedside without reposition, watching the steady rise of his chest as day turned to night, until he awoke in what would be your rightful Safe Haven.

The thought alone provoked wet tears to coat his lower stomach, and Thomas gently slid his hand into your hair as his thumb soothed you with consistent rubbing motions. Thomas was here with you, he was alive, he was real, he was safe and he was so utterly and completely loved.

It was as if he could read your mind as he cooed against the crown of your head, “I’m here, babygirl. I’m not going anywhere.”

You showed your understanding with more kisses over more of his scars, until every one had been offered endearment. You sat up further on your knees until you could gaze into his caramel eyes and the shade of burnt honey was easily your favourite; they gleamed especially under the afternoon sun, mesmerising swirls that could drag you to the deepest of depths, and you’d let them. They showed kindness and amusement, but right now, they darkened within the thickness of the room and you could’ve sworn that if given the chance… he would eat you alive, right there and then. Oh, how you wish he would.

But this moment was tentative - shared among inexperience, but budding romance and the strongest desires to be held and cherished. You needed to be closer which is why you kissed Thomas slowly, your lashes brushing against his pink cheeks, and your hands tightly squeezing his shoulders as his hardened cock twitched over your stomach. Flames were still burning brightly in your core and they needed to explode before they could be pleasantly extinguished.

Your mind was too hazy to recall how your hold shifted to arms sliding around his neck, pulling him further in until teeth clashed and silenced groans were exchanged, and Thomas took it in stride to poke his tongue at every crevice he could before sliding it deliciously over your own. He lowered you to the bed before placing himself between your thighs, your ankles returning behind his back, and two hearts reverberating with slight anxiety against the other’s chest.

Thomas pulled back slightly as his nose nuzzled with yours, a deep breath taken, “We don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready.” He offered quietly, trying to convince himself that his words were purely directed toward you.

You smiled; the feeling of his wet and puffy lips brushing against your own as you did. You rubbed your nose back against his, “I’m ready if you’re ready… I love you, I’ll do anything for you, Tommy.”

The boy chuckled in near disbelief. He knew a long time ago that he'd love you - that you’d take up every thought, every dream. That you’d so seamlessly enter into his life like the need for oxygen, and without you, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. You weren’t just needed or wanted, you were necessary to Thomas, and the love he had for you was unchallenged and indescribable. And now, it was also so incredibly mutual. Not that he had any doubts.

“I love you too, so much.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “So, so much.”

Thomas’ hips rocked against yours and the desperation was building fast. He thrust once, twice, three times until he was coating himself in your wet slick and it pulled a guttural noise from his throat. There was a time when he felt embarrassed listening to how his friends would recount their sexual experiences, and what they did to their partners, and how good it really felt. Neither of you had gotten to that stage until now, but he was thankful that he listened otherwise he wouldn’t be able to truly experience you.

The boy’s large hands tugged at himself a few times to properly lather himself in your wetness and you couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the package he held, your bottom lip quickly being held captive. You exhaled deeply, eyes widening, voice softening, “A-are you sure that’s gonna fit?”

He laughed, a sound so sweet, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But…it might hurt, okay?” He huffed into your ear, face buried in the crook of your neck as you pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to his flushed skin, “So you need to tell me when to stop if it gets too much.” You whined, nodding in acknowledgement as Thomas began to line himself up, the head of his sensitive girth meeting your lower lips. But he didn’t push further, taking another deep breath, “You need to say it, please, baby. I need to hear you say it.”

Instinctively, you ground up against him and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the anticipation grew, “I will, I promise.”

He didn’t need much more convincing as Thomas pushed into you, so incredibly slowly as he savoured how tight you clung to him. Your warmth forced his eyes to roll back and knowing that he was stretching you brought on utter determination. His cock was burying deeper, and deeper, and even he was starting to question now whether he’d fit inside you. Thomas opened his eyes after realising that they were closed, not remembering when he squeezed them shut, and he looked over your scrunched face with a gentle coo. He lifted a hand to your face before his thumb was gentle in pushing out the wrinkle between your eyes, his touch dragging down the curve of your face to cup your cheek. He whispered to you - affirmations and encouragements, reminders of love and pride.

The lack of reception was a worry that nearly made him stop until you covered his hand with your own, face tilting until you could kiss over Thomas’ palm. You huffed as you were being filled, swearing that you could feel him in your stomach, but the pain would surely dissipate. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” Your mantra repeated like a broken record, getting lost in the heavy panting of your breath, until your back suddenly arched and Thomas had reached the hilt.

He was already spent as hands braced themselves beside your head, caging you in until all you could see was his kiss-swollen lips and lustful dark eyes checking you for any kind of discomfort. The pressure sucking him into you was a sensation that he could never grow tired of, yet he waited for your face to soften and for the curl of your lips before he was granted permission to finally move.

It was harmonious when you both sang out in pleasure; the four walls of your hut hopefully thick enough to not draw in any unwanted attention, but at this stage, you could care less about anybody or anything outside of the bubble you and Thomas found yourselves within. His rocking turned to a fastened pace, driven by just how close you both already were to reaching your highs. Hips clashed and lustful sounds echoed as your arms curled under his own and grasped at his shoulders, pulling the boy closer until an inch couldn’t be spared between your sweat-sheened skin. Curses fell from your lips with ease and Thomas relished in the way that he was making you feel, your bodies moving as a single unit as you were pushed and pulled across the bed.

He nosed your cheek before brushing his lips against yours - not quite a kiss, but a flash of want that was sure to leave behind a burn, and you hoped that the feeling would stay with you forever. He nuzzled into you as he moaned out, “I love you”, his words so sweet in contrast to the near-pornographic moan that followed when you clenched around his cock. It made you rut back against him and meeting his hips halfway was nearly your tipping point. You were chasing after the feeling of ecstasy as it continued to build and continued to run, your arm held out and it was within reaching distance. So close. So close.

You knew you had crossed the finish line when your vision turned to stars; a white light coinciding with delicate heat, your body trembling as you droned against Thomas. You were weightless again - floating in euphoria, your bones melting as you collapsed completely into Thomas and he made sure to hold you against his naked chest with a protective arm across your back. It was the first time you truly felt pleasure and it was perfect.

“You did so well…” Thomas cooed, trying to withstand his own release as he kissed over your temple, his fingers massaging into your spine when he felt a quiet sob escape you. His lips pressed once more, “Just so you know” He started again, his thrusts slowing before he went too far, “You look so beautiful right now.”

“I’m crying.” You scoffed, eyes scrunching when you pulled back as his cock throbbed from inside you, dragging over the spongey spot that had the potential to drive you to insanity if probed enough. But the feeling was too strong and you were becoming too sensitive.

Thomas noticed before he pulled out with haste, his tortured girth being fisted roughly within his hand. He took a deep breath, the urge to cum growing nearer as his head threw back and his eyes screwed shut. “You’re beautiful even when you cry.” It wasn’t until he looked at you, the feeling of soft skin cupping his cheeks and your lips slotting against his own, that Thomas finally let go. You swallowed his moans as the boy shook under your grasp; strings of white stick painting his fist and reaching your chest.

He was the first to break away, the need for air nearly forgotten as he was getting lost in your touch and taste. Thomas’ forehead pressed to yours and his shoulders sagged in absolute content. Your relationship consummated on an entirely different level, and you both had never felt closer to one another. Thomas hummed, his heart rate slowly coming down, yet he couldn’t help but express excitement, “That, fuck… that was amazing. Absolutely amazing.” He grinned as you giggled under your breath, arms wrapping back around his neck, “And you, babygirl.. that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I survived a week in the Scorch.”

He flinched slightly as you slapped at his shoulder, embarrassment flourishing and your face was hidden as it nuzzled against one of his pecs. The boy continued to rub your back through his tamed chuckles, admiring what he deemed as adorable behaviour, and you acknowledged him with a series of kisses over the damp skin of his chest and an amused tone, “You’re such a dork, Tommy.”

“I’m your dork.”

You murmured something incomprehensible against him, followed by a yawn and a satisfied smile. You were worn, in the best way possible, through a moment that would stay with you for as long as life allowed you to keep it. Thomas has saved you in more than one way - allowing you a new lease on life, full of different experiences and emotions, with a promise held in the cusps of forever love. It was a struggle to get to where you are now but you’re glad, no, you’re gratified that it eventually led you to a life with Thomas.

The boy pulled you back to his chest as he squeezed a final hug, his brows furrowing at the feeling of cooling slick between your bodies, a bittersweet end to where love was made, “First things first, I’m gonna have to clean us up.”

#dylan o'brien x reader #thomas tmr x reader #tmr thomas x reader #tmr thomas #dylan o'brien smut #thomas tmr #tw smut #afab reader #the maze runner #tmr x reader

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tired-teacher-blog · 1 year

Text

A lazy Sunday

Characters : Bakugo/ Fem reader

Genre : Fluff, just tooth rotting sweetness/ Suggestive themes on the verge of smut tbh/ Drabble

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

_ "G'morning princess." his hoarse, thick voice resonated across the room, breaking the rhythmic pitter patter of the rain outside.

_ "Good morning honey." you responded softly, snuggling deeper into his broad chest and relishing the flexing muscles against your back.

You smiled delightfully when his lips latched onto your nape, kissing you lazily as his arms squeezed you between them.

_ " Shouldn't we get up?" muttering your words, you craned your neck wishing to catch a glimpse of the man holding you close, and giggling as you were met with the smooth forehead you so much adore, "cute.." was what you added before attaching your lips to the soft skin that soon crinkled due to your playful comment.

_ "Huh?! Cute?" he sounded offended, his dramatic outburst was almost comical for a moment, just for a moment, until his voice dropped again, "was I cute last night when I made you scream my name and beg for mercy? I don't mind giving you a reminder."

You could sense the smirk lacing his whispered words as two big warm hands roamed your naked body, fingers ghosting over the marks he so proudly left on your delicate skin a few hours ago.

_ "Stop it.." still in his arms, you finally turned around to face him, feigning a cute pout as you voiced your protest.

He remained quiet, his teasing smirk turned into a sweet beam that mirrored itself upon your features.

You could hear the gentle sound of the drizzle again, prompting you to stay in your beloved's hold even just for a fleeting moment.

_ "Can we?"

_ "Of course we can princess, for as long as you want."

Breakfast would have to wait or be forgotten all together, as you were in no rush to leave the warmth of your bed.

_ "I love you." you murmured faintly, lips gliding along his own.

_ "I love you more." he kissed you once, quick and gentle, and then another, and another, until your giggles filled the quiet space of your cosy apartment.

_ "I still can't believe you're actually mine." he tightened his hold around your waist and nuzzled your neck as he longingly inhaled the sweet scent emanating from you.

_ "I am yours honey, forever." you kissed those soft blond unruly locks, smiling as you fiddled with the beautiful diamond ring he had put on your finger two years ago.

The rain had stopped at last, and beams of sunlight seeped through the curtains, illuminating the room and allowing you a better view of your hubby.

_ "Do we have to get up now? Can't we just stay in bed? It's Sunday after all." he whined against your sensitive skin -right under your ear- placing soft kisses along the side of your neck as if to convince you of something you already desired.

_ "I'm spoiling you rotten aren't I? Well I guess we can stay for a bit more if you want." you rolled your eyes and shrugged your shoulders as you struggled to stifle the laughter threatening to erupt.

_ "Well in that case.." he pushed you gently on your back before hovering over you, "how about another round?"

You could feel the smooth head of his cock rubbing against your naked thigh, and you pulled him down for a deep heated kiss, moaning when two fingers slid into your wetness..

Entangled in the warmth of one another is all you've ever needed, so no matter who you meet or where you go, only each other's company is what makes you feel complete.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki fluff #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia imagines #bnha fluff #mha fluff

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thegrayascendancy-if · 5 months

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I’m in love with Y. They may be the villain and my mc might be a bit too moralistic for that but every relationship has its obstacles.

Also I’d kill to see Protective Y 👀

Nothing a couple's therapy of a trial by fire (or actual battle) cannot mend tbh 😌

Ahem.

The guards watch as you pass through the glass arch, wordless and unbothered. Ahead you see two people lounging on the cushions of the winter garden, all their might going into looking most nonchalant.

You bend the knee as you always do, but there is a question in your eye, directed at the Gray Regent, who peeks at you from the corners of amber eyes.

You garner more attention than that, though. The guest, a man with a perfectly symmetrical mustache, his stature wrapped in an overcoat of shimmering velvet and furs, glares at you once over and his lips curl into one another. Your mind tries to think of a possible offense, but all it ends up with is the grime on your clothes, so different from his.

"Your servant has interrupted us," the man proclaims with sudden anger, words bubbling like boiling water.

You rush to meet the Gray Regent's gaze, explanations about to pour out, but your monarch is not looking your way at all. You hear a soft laughter that slowly ends for the lack of air, and then: "Ah... This truly makes me feel less of a knave for having poisoned your wine."

Chill runs down your spine, but you dare not move. The guest does, rushing to his feet, knee crashing into the underside of the table, face reddening like he is about to faint. The Gray Regent watches him, still seated, chin resting peacefully on top of the folded palms.

The man sways, arm reaching out weakly but finding no purchase. His legs are weak, you realize, as he nearly topples down onto the cushions but then still latches onto some rigidness in his bones.

"Fascinating," the Gray Regent continues with a smile. The man keeps lowering himself, every movement stiffer than the other. And finally, he sits down, slowly looking around with his mouth wide open. You are about to say something, unsure yet what exactly, but that is not required, it seems. "Not even a drop consumed but your weak rabbit heart has nearly ended you itself."

The man, a prince or a lord of some land, slowly, comically slowly turns to look at the Gray Regent. Fear still clouds his deep blue eyes and robs him of a voice. A long beat of silence as he is assessing, settling back into the world of living.

And he looks slightly more present.

"Now sit and listen carefully to what I tell you," your monarch says coldly. "And another word in that—" a small gesture your way "—direction, and every chalice your hands ever touch will be poisoned."

#anon loving hours #ch: y #prompt: y #anon i will be collecting that debt /j

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lettheladylead · 24 days

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What would you say the most major differences between comics!Goldie (you can specify different comic writers if you want) and DT17!Goldie are?

I'd say the biggest difference between DT17!Goldie and her comic versions is the call to adventure. Though every comic writer writes Goldie differently, what's consistent is that she settled down after the Klondike, stayed in the area, kept things simple (sometimes successfully, sometimes unsuccessfully, depending on the writer). Which is fine, but doesn't fit the vibe of DT17 so it makes sense that they did something different.

It's hard to talk about the different comic writer depictions of Goldie because most of them have only written her once, maybe twice. Don Rosa is the exception, of course. Carl Barks only wrote her once, and Rosa's version strays from that a tiny bit (as much as he didn't want it to). I think it's obvious that Rosa wanted to write Goldie as a more present character, he wanted to include her in more things, but he didn't want to contradict Barks' canon so he didn't. But you can tell that he writes Goldie with the idea that she has a whole life of her own without Scrooge.

The writer with the second-most credits for stories with Goldie in them is Marco Nucci, but tbh that's just because he does a lot of Christmas stories. Mostly takes place during the gold rush, the stories don't always fit the Barks/Rosa timeline but they just fit into the setting.

Next highest number of Goldie writing credits is Marco Gervasio, but most of those are cameos. He did write the really beautiful and excellent story King of the Klondike but as for how that comic fits with others................I mean. I love it, personally. Gervasio followed Rosa's thought process - he wrote a story about Scrooge and Goldie, instead of a story about Scrooge that has Goldie in it. It's more interesting and more memorable.

Otherwise writers have only written Goldie stories once or twice, and most of them just focus on the past. Gold rush-era Goldie content tends to be consistent across the board, and repetitive, and often Goldie's role is small. The ones where she has a bigger role we get the basic Scrooge/Goldie content - lots of romantic/sexual tension, lots of arguing, some sort of misunderstanding or lie. And then usually older!Scrooge staring at a photo of her and sighing.

As for present-day Goldie stories, the most consistent things are that she's still very tricky, still very horny, and still very prideful (though less so in Rosa's stories). Tricky, horny, & prideful I think are the big Goldie traits that need to be present for her to feel in-character.

Soooo tl;dr as for differences from DT17, yeah the big thing is the call for adventure. All differences in her personal story and personality can be tied directly to that specific aspect.

Why isn't she more mature at her age? 'Cause she's been running around trying to one up Scrooge instead of settling down and working on herself. Why isn't she running a hotel in Dawson City? 'Cause she's been running around trying to one up Scrooge instead of staying in one place.

We got to know a lot about Goldie's personality in DT17 but not much about her life, which leaves a lot of room for headcanons but also leaves us wanting. But it left enough room that we can pretty easily take content from her comic selves and combine them with her cartoon self without any contradiction and that works pretty nicely for me.

Anyway anyway. Sorry. I keep getting distracted. Adventure is the big difference. Which is fitting since DT17 also wrote Scrooge with more emphasis on his adventuring spirit because they knew that'd be a more interesting story for animation than focusing too much on the money. Good to make them match, and it also stretched out an already iconic love story into 120 years of drama. And also gave us Scheme Team which I am forever thankful for. I miss 'em. I miss Goldie...........

#goldie o'gilt #ducktales #anon asks #carro answers

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alphiemar · 1 year

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A small comic on the Pikmin 2 debt complete ending!

Please read from left to right! Enjoy 🤓

Just my take on the debt completion ending of pikmin 2... i guess kind of louies thoughts idk ... i think i rushed it a bit to the king of bugs part but i kept on forgetting what i wanted to do next in the panels and it caused me to skip ahead and looking back on it there was a whole part i wanted to do TBH but whateveaaa.

Anyways hwres the original pages not edited with text 🤓

#pikmin #pikmin 2 #louie pikmin #olimar #king of bugs #pikmin louie #yayyyyy i rlly like how the original pages came out ive never really done comics before so it was a challenge and i think i handled it well #i love LOUIE #Holy carp #also note when louie has his hand up to his face its over his helmet I didnt forget aboutit i promise #theres only like 1 panel where i forgot the antenna for the helmet i think just ignore #hate drawing the helmet #sorry for the titan dweevil panel i was NOT gonna try not after kjust rendering that thing like a couple weeks ago for a drawing

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felassan · 1 year

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its that time again! 🍵 Thoughts/wonderings on Dragon Age: The Missing #3, under a cut due to spoilers for The Missing (not just #3):

Thoughts on Issue 1

Thoughts on Issue 2 (note: this post also contains spoilers from DA:D leaks)

Thoughts on the first 4 pages of issue 3 (which came out via preview)

Overall I enjoyed the issue a lot and it's my favorite of the 3 so far! Issue 2 was more fun and punchy/had more oomph (as Teia and Viago are amazing and simply showstealers tbh⭐), but this issue has been my fav so far because i] I'm hyped that after three (3) years we got to see Strife's design, and more importantly ii] the issue advanced the DA:D [pre-]plot a bit and dropped inchrestingggg new lore stuff. (The pacing wasn't great, it was kind of rushed in places and it was a lot to try to fit in to just a few pages. I also would have liked it if the the Veil Jumpers could have been given a bit more depth/been fleshed out a bit more, but again there's limited pages in these comics)

I like what they're doing with a different color palette version of the picture on page 2 in every issue :>

On page one, are those icebergs floating in the sea? would there be icebergs in the Nocen Sea or Ventus Straits? it seems like the climate around there is warm.

On the map, I like the little representation of the Imperial Highway.

^ one example of the triangle motifs incorporated into the Veil Jumpers' outfits.

^ the face on Tist's shoulderpad reminded me of Sentinel armor.

Tist looks like a Greek statue of a youth hh

I liked the designs and hairstyles of all 4 Veil Jumpers. Irelin's fur collar is a nice touch to have remembered, in TN she was described as wearing supple leather trimmed with fur.

Strife is tall and stacked. this didnt surprise me, after reading the first story in TN I came away with that impression of him. in TN he was specifically described as being tall and strong, square-shouldered and straight-backed with calloused hands, lean with long ropey muscle. also I'm simply biased and a tall buff elf enthusiast hh. (in terms of build and stuff he reminds me of my Lavellan)

^ I wonder if the book at Strife's belt here is the leatherbound journal from Ruins of Reality, the relic of the Morlyn clan?

I wasn't sure about some of Strife's dialogue, he seemed to be missing the sort of snarky or lighter-hearted manner he had at times in TN? dialogue in general was a bit stilted in this issue tho, not bad so much as just quite info-dump-y.

Veil Jumpers faction details: they are an alliance between the best Dalish mages and hunters (not an all-elf and/or all-mage group) and other non-elves who were wiling and able to help contain the threat of timespace warping hijinks and chaos that's reigning in Arlathan Forest. presumably a fair few of the Dalish elves in the group are from Clan Morlyn. the mixed nature of the faction and Binde's presence in Strife's group feels like a natural progression of Strife at the end of his story in TN: [said to Myrion] "You're right, shem. This [Arlathan forest] isn't your place. But then, once upon a time, it wasn't mine, either."

also their base or HQ is a "sanctum". about that.. remember this? from this concept art? maybe that piece of concept art was showing the Veil Jumper sanctum? some of the concept art of Veil Jumpers shows them in a similar location with floating rocks and orange vegetation/foliage. [one, two]

in a previous posted I wondered,

last time we got a look in [Arlathan forest], Strife had noticed something had gone wrong in the forest. time and space was stretching and folding weirdly, reality warping, and he and Irelin saw echoes or mirages of themselves running around. mysterious entries had begun appearing in the relic journal of the Morlyn clan describing sacred ruins in there guarding a powerful fabled artifact, a halla figurine that Irelin grabs during that story. when Varric&Harding arrive, will they also be facing this sort of thing (mad sylvans, reality& time/space warping)? is the crucious stone similarly guarded by sacred ruins? could it have something to do with what’s gone wrong in the Forest? even when Irelin succeeds in grabbing the figurine, Strife still feels that something has gone wrong in there.

fun to see that this speculation was also correct ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ as in this issue Arlathan is still timespace warping, Varric&Harding have to run a gauntlet facing these dangers, the crucious stone was contained in the ruins of an ancient temple, and Irelin posits that someone walking around using the crucious stone could explain the timespace warping in Arlathan.

Harding continues to eyeroll at Varric's bad jokes. he's basically an old man with dad/grandpa jokes at this point.

"Deep inside the Veil"? I found this to be kind of odd phrasing. we've long known that the Veil is thin in Arlathan forest, indeed thinner in such a way as to be different than how it is in other places where it is also known to be thin, somehow. inside the Fade is a place one can go. is that what's meant by this line? or is it meant to mean more like "deep in the forest, where the Veil is very thin" / "inside a place where reality and the Fade are mushing together" sorta thing? or is inside the Veil itself a place in which one can go? 🤔

that aside, these "Ruins of Reality", this "world turned upside down", this "place where chaos reigns", this "threat".. it reminds me bigtime of when Solas says in Trespasser "as the world burns in the raw chaos".. and indeed, Harding infers as much at the end of this issue, saying "[this] is going to be happening everywhere unless we find [Solas]", and Solas refers to the damage himself in his letter, "I will limit the damage as best I can". and I wonder.. in TN Solas talks about a few years of peace before his ritual is complete. it made it sound like the ritual would take a few years to prepare for or a few years to carry out (in ancient Elvhenan some spells and stuff would take years to cast). if his ritual/plans along these lines have already begun, it would make sense that places in the waking world which are "weakest" (i.e. places where the Veil is thin) would be the ones which are affected first.

the trials and gauntlet gave me nostalgia for the Urn of Sacred Ashes questline in DA:O

the map from page one of Varric and Harding's voyage contrasted with the map of the forest.. hhh

Spirits trading places with the living, literally ripping you out your own body and stealing it.. (by this point Strife, Irelin and the other Veil Jumpers are old hats at the Arlathan forest timespace shenanigans hh.) this is neat and interesting new lore, and it reminded me of the Nevarran belief that when a dead soul crosses to the Fade it displaces a Fade spirit. I wonder if it's related to that. also I thought it was represented in a cool way, with the reflection world and the muted grayscaleish color palette swap when their souls had been displaced and they were in the 'spirit world'.

the panels when Varric and Irelin are conversing from random upside down angles reminded me a lot of when the party enters the Fade physically with Hawke and goes "wtf" in Inquisition :)

Varric is having such a terrible time. again

Does Harding have the Inquisition hairy eyeball on her kneeguard?

Varric's reaction to the sky being the wrong way around reminded me of how it must feel to be a dwarf from Orzammar going to the surface and seeing sky above for the first time, dizzying, weird, disorienting

I like that while a mage, Irelin still has an alternative weapon (knife/dagger) just in case ^^

Varric seeming to sort've push Harding ahead of him while they fled the animals was a nice touch

is this the first time leopards were confirmed in Thedas? :D tho they look more like cougars or maybe lionesses or sabretooth tigers or something, and leopards are typically solitary. also lmao first the deepstalkers attack and now this. Varric's like "bloodthirsty wildlife omg" like they didnt already have that problem in issue 1 hh.

RIP Gilf Varric fans

hh, does Varric not know that he's been graying lately anyway, time shenanigans aside?

the time warping reminds me of In Hushed Whispers 👁️ very interesting in terms of implications. you can see why creating the Veil (which is connected to timespaceywarpy happenings) caused the ancient elves to begin aging.

^ check this out, the glowing green light on Strife's shoulder in his golden armor. seems like the green-glowing aspect of some Veil Jumper gear is still a thing [one, two, three]. it got more open, triangley and brighter in the second panel, like he was powering it up and gearing up for the fight. if they hadn't decided to run, would he have started to use it like the Veil Jumpers in those pictures? curious to find out more about the Veil Jumper gear - how it works and where they got it from.

^ what's happening in this panel? they seem to be straight-up disintegrating? not aging, disintegrating.

^ the presence of and focus on this satchel on the 'assassin', with its bright red fastener (draws the eye), seems sus. Varric says later in the issue that the 'assassin' saved him. it's hard to tell whether "I don't think this was the Venatori. I think it was Solas" means he thinks it was Solas who already entered the vault and took the stone OR if he means that and that the 'assassin' who saved him was Solas in disguise and that he's the one that's been tailing them this entire time. if the 'assassin' was Solas in disguise, I sus that the stone - which he had clearly already gotten at that point - is inside the lil pouch and that's what this panel is trying to convey. also it wouldnt be Solas' first time dressing up in disguise (Bard in TN).

the twisting pathway reminds me of the yellow brick road in Wizard of Oz

The Varterral. it looks nothing like the ones we've seen in-game or like the one described in Masked Empire (or depicted in the illustration in the Deluxe edition). is this an art/design oversight, or new lore showing that varterrals come in multiple forms? in fairness, in Dalish lore the first varterral was created by Dirthamen, fashioned of the "fallen trees of the forest" into a deadly guardian. this ent-like varterral looks like that. maybe "varterral" is actually just a name for any created creature that's been magically created and is guarding an ancient elven site, golem-like?

Irelin's staff-less magic and the spell distraction she did was cool. was she doing Stinging Swarm? ^^

And ofc the final pages are the motherlode, especially the new painting! Look here. I think the green figure (the one with the crescent moon headpiece) is the monster figure with the crescent moon head from that mural and from that concept art piece. and I think that's Ghilan'nain (Horror of Hormak and all that). BUT I don't think the red figure is the other monster figure from that mural (the one with pointy, crab-like shoulders, who I think is Elgar'nan). the headpieces don't match, the red figure's headpiece better matches with one of the other sigils from the hemispheres. I think the red figure is someone else. the question is who, and my guess is they're Andruil. the two figures could be read as feminine, and the feel of the painting could be read as romantic - definitely close. Ghil was Andruil's chosen, and her beloved. Andruil was the one who offered Ghil ascendance.

the painting also bears a resemblance to the red lyrium idol, which has been variously and interestingly described - a couple hugging, two lovers, one comforting the other, or a god mourning her sacrifice. does the painting depict the same moment from the idol, or not long before it at least? the main figure on the idol's headpiece is different, but coincidentally Andruil was also known as the Goddess of Sacrifice. wouldn't it be interesting and ironic if there was a time in the distant past when Ghil had to sacrifice the goddess of sacrifice? if this painting is depicting a moment before such a thing, that would help explain why the other monster figure from the mural has a different headpiece. if "the Evil Gods" are returning, Andruil couldn't be one of them, if she was killed. Ruins of Reality and Three Trees to Midnight are also full of references to both Ghil and Andruil..

Strife was looking at it now. On the other side, so was his double. Both transfixed by a statue of elven goddess Ghilan'nain holding a crystal halla figurine, exactly as the journal described. - As the Strifes drew the attention of the merciless trees, Irelin swooped in and snagged the figurine with her talons, tearing it from Ghilan'nain's grip. The statue didn't let go easily, but neither did Irelin. With an angry squawk, she yanked the prize free and disappeared into the sky.

-- Ruins of Reality

in TN, the story title "Three Trees to Midnight" refers to the Way of Three Trees/Vir Tanadhal, which Dalish lore holds were teachings of Andruil given to the People. Strife thinks of the Ways during his escape, using them to escape, and invoke's Andruil's name multiple times. Strife also refers to Arlathan Forest as belonging to the Lady of the Hunt/Andruil. He also calls on Ghilan'nain, and Irelin shapeshifts into a halla (Ghil's sacred animal, being Mother of the Halla and the first halla), as well as a falcon and an owl (hawks are sacred to Andruil and the Dalish believe owls are Andruil's messengers). meanwhile Strife has turned up in this comic with Andruil vallaslin, after not having them in TN. very inch... resting... indeed.

why Ghil and Andruil in the painting? presumably this ancient temple, deep in Arlathan Forest, was a temple either to Andruil (whose forest it is) or Ghil (her beloved). why next to a painting of the Dread Wolf doing something to the Veil? in the story of Ghil's ascension, there is a reference to Pride -

On the second day she drowned the giants of the sea, except those in deep waters, for they were too well-wrought, and Pride stopped her hand.

On the third day she killed the beasts of the land, except the halla, whose grace she loved above all else.

This is how Ghilan'nain was made youngest of the gods.

there is also a story in which Andruil wanted to punish Fen'Harel. it could also simply be (or both could be true) that Solas painted the Dread Wolf mural when he stopped by earlier before Varric and Harding to obtain the crucious stone. what if in this comic panel we're looking at the same location as here, just with the comic version of the mural compacted down due to limited panel space:

and what's the relevance to Solas' plans, what happened the past, and the idol? I am guessing it is something to do with how Andruil went mad and hunted in the Abyss, putting on armor made of the Void and making weapons of darkness, to the extent that she brought "plague" to her lands and howled things meant to be forgotten. it's often theorized that Andruil accidentally brought the Blight/Taint back from the Void, and of course that links to red lyrium (Blighted blue lyrium, the red lyrium idol) and is reminiscent of the Evanuris digging deep, mining the bodies of Titans for "something else" and unleashing something terrible by doing so by mistake (we read of elves frantically collapsing tunnels, "let this place be forgotten, let no one wake its anger"). also I'm obsessed with the Balrog Theory so

Solas being kinda extra with his dramatic fursona red seal

he is always one step ahead of them isn't he

"You're joking. You've got to be" Strife +50 Headache

"Interfering in matters you do not understand can only make things worse" explain them then pls Solas. if you're cryptic and don't explain things in full all the time, then ofc people are going to be Concerned

the Orb of Fen'Harel, the red lyrium idol and the crucious stone.. Solas' list of Maguffins I Need For My Plans keeps getting longer.

As for the crucious stone itself.. whatever it does, it sounds like it weakens the Veil. makes sense why Solas would want it, then. there was this line in Ruins of Reality: "Mysterious entries appeared of their own accord, describing sacred ruins in Arlathan Forest that guarded an artifact of fabled power." In Ruins of Reality it referred to a crystal halla figurine. maybe the journal has since produced more entries of its own accord, telling of other ruins and artifacts - Strife and Irelin in this comic had heard of the crucious stone and had a map to where it was located after all.

Also the final question is who is the person on the final page, which is the cover for issue 4? Presumably the trusted informant from the issue 4 synopsis, "Varric connects with a trusted informant who might help them." I've seen speculation that they are the person from this concept art and I like that idea and could see it :] I love their outfit and the design of it makes me think of snakes, so again I'm wondering about the Viper. their oufits are similar, and so far we've had Wardens-Crows-Veil Jumpers in 1-3. perhaps issue 4 will introduce (in advance of DA:D) the Viper's faction. in the 2020 trailer you have the pair of boots (speculated to be a Warden) character, a character on the roof (speculated to be a Crow) and a Veil Jumper stalking through the woods. there's also the character in an alley of Minrathous with the knife. the pattern on their hood -

is like reptile scales, like the pattern on the Viper here and the pattern on the character on the final page's shoulders (as well as the scaley reptile on the person in that concept art's staff).

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age: the missing #dragon age: the missing spoilers #dragon age #bioware #video games #longpost #long post #strife #solas

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