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dcangel · 8 months

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

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

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

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine, I’m—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe he was.

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

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

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

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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97keanu · 7 months

Text

Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. Reader chooses to be the slayer she was always meant to be. Helen has laid dormant in your soul for most of your life, awakening in the past few nights after coming in contact with her true love, John Wick again. Reader decides she must find out what it truly means to just be herself. With the help of some friends, any monster is possible to slay.

Tags: major character death(s). Vampire!John Wick, Slayer!Constantine, Witch!Neo, ???!Ted, supernatural AU, Slayer!Reader, soul connection, reincarnation, blood/violence.

A/N: In this choice, reader finds what she was looking for.

Go back.

"I am a Slayer, after all..." You say to Neo, and you feel the something that stirs with in you settle in such a way that you wonder if this is what she's always wanted.

"Are you sure? Once I begin the ritual, I can't undo it." You nod, and Neo sighs, grabbing the spare cigarette behind his ear and lighting it.

The end burns red and he breathes a long pull out.

"Alright, let's begin." He opens his spell book and starts.

You lay in the center of the summoning circle Neo has drawn in white chalk on his concrete floor. It's cold, dirt and grit touch you wherever your skin makes contact with the floor. Your head sits uncomfortably on the hardness of it, and you wish Neo would hurry up.

He's currently annoiting sigils he's drawn, then coming to you and sprinkling herbs and oils around you. You look up at him with wonder and urgency.

"How long is this going to take, Neo?" You whisper, already an hour into this mess and impatient.

"I'm seperating your soul connection to Helen, it's not a simple spell." He says with an eye roll.

You sigh and try to get comfortable, then Neo advises you to stop moving because you're rubbing around the chalk. You just hope this fixes things.

"Alright, were ready to begin." Neo says after another half hour, lighting the last candle that surrounds you.

"What do I need to do?" You ask, unsure of how much work you'll be doing.

"I need you to focus on staying yourself. Which parts of you are truly you, and which parts of Helen you're seperating from." Neo speaks as he looks over a small tome, from which he grabbed the spell from.

"Okay, but how do I know that?" You aren't trying to make this harder, but you also have lived your life as you are for so long. You have no idea how much of you is Helen manifested and how much is truly you.

"You'll have to look inward for that, I'm sorry I don't know an exact answer." He says, and you believe he is truly sorry you're in such a situation. He leans down and takes your hand tenderly.

"You're going to make it through this, one way or another." You nod at his words and you don't know why, but your eyes prickle, tears threatening to fall.

You can't imagine how it will feel to loose such a big part of yourself, it scares you to think who you might be after.

You nod once more, to let Neo know it's time to start, and he gives your hand one final squeeze. You really wish Constantine were here, but you know he wouldn't want you to do something so dangerous. Neo already told you the things that could go wrong if the spell isn't done correctly, and you know if Constantine knew you were planning on doing something that could make you a shell of yourself, he wouldn't allow it.

No, you have to do this alone. You're glad Neo is there to guide you as much as he can, and you suddenly realize how good it is to have such a friend.

He begins to speak, his words in a foreign tongue, and your eyes close. You can feel the energy begin to pulse, and any inklings of doubt you had about Neo being able to perform such a spell vanish. You know, this is it.

Neo takes a lock of your hair he cut earlier, and burns it, dropping it in a bowl filled with other herbs. It burns and the room begins to stink, but you can feel the power growing. You feel a weigh in your chest, and it builds, as if trying to escape your ribcage. You grit your teeth, and try to stay focused on becoming just yourself again. You still have no idea who that is, but you start to think of Constantine once more and the entity inside you pulls again.

You think about all the times you've tried to make something happen between you too, but no matter what something was stopping you. And you realize that Helen never stopped loving John, there was no way you were ever going to love someone else when she was inside you. You think of all the ways Constantine makes you feel, and you realize that those feelings of love for him, are your true feelings, the kind only you can make.

You think of when you two first met, and how nervous you were around him, but still giggling like a school girl despite yourself. You think of all the times you've leaned into him, and how the something that stops you was never happy about it. Constantine and you have always been an almost, a could be, a wish that hadn't come true yet.

You focus on that feeling of love you have for that grumpy asshole, and Neo's voice rises. He burns the photograph of Helen and you feel the power in your chest reel, lurching and trying to be set free. This is what she wants too.

You feel yourself spiralling downward, away from it, the connection between you and Helen growing thinner and thinner as you think more about the life you've lived, and all the friends you've made along the way. There's no way that any of that wasn't your true self. That nights spent with Ted on the couch, laughing until the sun comes up, was always you. That the teasing between you and Neo, so easy and light, was always you. That want between you and Constantine. Even now, it's you who desperately wants him here, holding your hand through this. It's what YOU truly want. No one else. Just you.

And as you dig deeper into that, you feel the pain of losing a part of your soul. You try not to cry out, but the muffled yell escapes your trembling lips. You feel as if a part of your heart is dying, getting ripped out and taken from you. But you know, deep down, Helen wouldn't want you to be with John anyways. He's lost his love, kindness, tenderness from being bitter over her death for all these years.

No, you must separate, you must set Helen's soul free.

"End the cycle..." you hear it. Her voice whispering in your head.

And your jaw sets, teeth biting into teeth, and you take the pain, your screams gutteral and whining, body beginning to writhe as Neo continues the spell, knowing he cannot stop in the middle of it.

You feel your soul being torn apart and all you can think about are the people you love, the people you stay on this earth for, and somehow, you make it through.

Sweat clings to your face and body, and as you open your eyes you see yourself, transparent and floating above you. But you know it's not really you. You watch and Helen seems more peaceful than ever, her soul fading into the abyss. The magic dwindles down and finally after Neo says the final closing words to the ritual, and it's over.

You lay there, exhausted, and Neo comes to your side, and you barely hear what he's saying to you. You feel more hollow, less full and terrified. You have a numbness in your chest, but you also feel as if you can finally breathe after not being able to on your own for so long.

"You did great, I didn't know what would happen, but you made it!" Neo speaks kind words to you, slowly helping you sit up and rubbing your back as you do.

Your stomach clenches as you finally sit. The world seems so different now that you're looking through your fresh pair of eyes, and you stay there, still as Neo dabs your sweaty face kindly with a cloth.

"This should be enough to get him to stop hunting you, now that he can't find Helen's soul within you..." You nod as Neo talks and finally stand up after a while.

Neo takes you out of the summoning circle, letting you lean into him when you need. You sit on the edge of his bed and he leaves for a moment, returning with a small glass of water.

"Here," he says, and you don't realize how dry your mouth is until you take your first sip, happy to be in Neo's care.

"What if he keeps coming..." You whisper out finally.

"Then we kill him." Neo looks at you, and you can see in his eyes that it's true, he really does believe you can defeat this one way or another.

The someone knocks on the door to Neo's apartment, bangs really, and Neo leaves your side to open it.

It's Constantine, he's sweaty and looks worried. He rushes to your side, taking your hand and holding it in his.

"I felt," he speaks, his mouth open to search for the right thing to say. "I knew something was wrong..."

His Slayer abilities are more honed than yours but you wonder if the connection between you two goes deeper than that.

"How...?" You say, but Constantine puts his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes, feeling something between you two.

It feels as if the block between you and him has faded into nothing but scarred tissue. The connection is starting to truly flow for the first time, and it buzzes through your body.

"It's like..." Constantine whispers out. "A sudden weight was lifted, and I could finally feel you..."

You wonder if Helen's soul had been blocking this connection between you two, but you don't know if you'll ever know. All you do know is that he's here for you, and that's what you've always wanted.

Constantine moves and wraps his arms around you tightly, his hug warm and deep.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again." He whispers into your neck, and you nod, tears welling up.

"It's over now, I think..." You whisper back, and Constantine holds you as if he is afraid of letting you go.

"I'll make sure it is..." Constantine mumbles, the anger in his voice clear. For a second you're not sure if you heard him right or not.

You don't want Constantine hunting the vampire down if John is truly no longer interested in you. You don't feel like arguing now though, you're way too tired for all of that. Instead, you let Constantine and Neo take you home, both helping to carry you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It's been a few days, but Constantine hasn't left your side. He doesn't say much, as usual, but with the newfound connection between you two, he doesn't need to.

You begin to feel a bit better, the time after the soul seperation made you so weak. It was truly as if you recovering from some illness or injury. You suppose you were though, having soul surgery was no little task, as Neo later said.

Neo as well was there to support you, not always, but he often went out and got the things you and Constantine needed. He would stop and assess how you were doing as well, looking over your aura and making sure you were healing properly.

Ted has been out the whole time, and as the days go on you wonder where he's at. It wasn't uncommon for him to spend a few days a month just at Bill's place, but usually you would have seen him by now...

Tonight, you and Constantine sit on the couch, enjoying one of your favorite movies while he reminds you to drink more water every 15 minutes. You humor him, and let Nurse Constantine prescribe anything he deems necessary. Through your connection, you can feel how worried he is, so you don't want to add to it at all.

You haven't had any nightmares since the soul severance as well. In fact, you've had no dreams at all, and that's just fine with you. You wouldn't care if you ever dreamed again if it meant all that was over.

You gaze out the window by your couch, the full moon casting her loving gaze on the city. You feel the wind stir outside and you wonder what's next for you. You consider how much more slaying you really want to do, but you also know the need is in your blood. It's what you're made for, trained for. You aren't sure if you could ever give it up, but you also love how domestic and calm things have been the past few days. You glance to Constantine and see him for once, almost relaxed next to you, his arm gently and warmly around your shoulder.

Neo knocks at the door, and you can tell because Constantine has been training you to recognize energies better. You get ready to lift yourself from the couch to get the door, but Constantine is already getting it, not wanting you to lift a finger until you're better.

"I'm fine! Really!" You call out to him, and he shakes his head.

"Neo said it takes at least a week until you're fully better, it's only been three days." He grumbles back to you and opens the door.

What neither of you sensed or expected was what was behind that door.

Neo was there, yes, but behind him, claws dug into Neo's throat, was the vampire. Constantine immediately growls and wants to charge him, but it's clear that John will rip out Neo's throat if he does.

"Drop him!" Constantine barks, and you feel as if this is a dream.

"No, you're not supposed to..." You whisper out, slowly rising from the couch, still in some pain.

"Did you really think I wouldn't come back for a taste of that sweet blood of yours?" The vampire hisses at you, ignoring Constantine completely.

"You really shouldn't have done that, my sweet." John cackles. "Now that you've severed yourself from my past love, there's nothing stopping me from draining you dry."

Your body chills at his words, but you have to do something or else he may just kill the people closest to you. You step forward once more and you watch as John holds out his free hand to you, beckoning you to come to him.

"No! I'm not letting you go with him!" Constantine growls out and holds up a protective arm in front of you, trying to stop you from going.

"I'm not going to let him hurt my friends." You say this and know how true this statement is in your soul. You would rather sacrifice yourself than allow Neo or Constantine die trying to save you.

"That's right, my pretty little slayer...I will let your friends go in exchange for you." The vampire confirms with a sickening grin, fangs showing.

As you get closer, the vampire slowly lessens his grip on Neo. John gets more distracted by you coming near, obviously hungry and anger clouding his mind. You can feel Constantine planning something, and you want to call out to him to stop, but before you can, he has rushed the vampire just as you come to meet John's hand.

John's claw grazes Neo's throat, blood slipping from the shallow wound, but he also looses his grip on him. Neo scrambles away, into the apartment, and Constantine rolls on the ground with the vampire in the hallway. You immediately search for anything to help, and spot Constantine's slayer gear near the door.

You grab two stakes and run into the hallway, watching as the vampire begins to over power Constantine. You're screaming and you don't even know for what, but you run, stakes in hand, ready to kill. Just as you're about the strike, John turns, seeing you and using his arm to throw you back, against the wall. You hit it, your head bouncing off with a thud, and your visual blackens.

You see the fuzzy images of the vampire on top of Constantine, his claw coming down in a long gash against his chest. Neo is in the doorway, holding his neck and fumbling with something to try to help, but he was never made to be killing creatures like this. You see the fear in your friends eye, and hear the screams of your love as the vampire descends into the killing blow.

You struggle to attempt to get up, your head pounding, body still weak and recovering, when you hear it. A pounding down the hall. The sound of some great beasts coming your direction. You stare up in shock and awe as two furry creatures jump over you, straight for the vampire. You watch as what looks like giant wolves grip the vampire's arms in their teeth, dragging him off of Constantine. They snarl and growl, and you find yourself on your feet again, gripping the stake you could hold onto and walking towards the vampire.

All that rage, all that fury, it builds inside of you. You feel it moving off you in hot waves, especially as you see Constantine, halfway torn, and you don't know when you start screaming, but you do.

You move faster, the pain moved aside for anger and adrenaline. You watch as the wolves are practically playing tug of war with the vampire, but you know even ripped to shreds that's not how you kill him. The wolves seem to sense your plan and hold the writhing, spitting creature as you do what you should have done that first night.

You watch as the vampire looks you dead in your eyes, that redness showing only evil and hatred, and you raise the stake.

"I'm not letting you get another chance to kill my friends." You say plainly, and the vampire laughs, which only pisses you off more.

You don't wait for him to say some stupid line, his mouth opening to attempt something along those lines. No, you've heard enough.

You drive the stake down, through his heart, and he screams out, shaking and sputtering. The wolves drop his arms from their mouths and the vampire bursts into flames, thrashing until he's burned out into a pile of ash.

You stand there, the carnage before you, the mess of your apartment hall, and you feel your knees weaken. You know you're not done yet, you turn to Constantine, and see Neo is already at his side, dripping some sort of liquid from a vial into his wounds, and speaking a spell.

You rush to his side, falling next to him and holding his hand.

"I'm so sorry..." Is all you can say, tears streaming down your face.

You watch as Constantine tries to keep breathing, in and out, the pain obviously immense. His wounds begin to glow as Neo continues and you lean forward, kissing Constantine's forehead and murmuring words of encouragement to get through this. You can sense how much it helps, and you continue.

"I'm not going to let you die on me now, not after everything." You say to him, your hand gripping his, your tears falling on his face where yours is so close.

"You wish, Princess." He finally sputters out, and with that signature sarcasm of his, you know he'll be alright.

The spell finishes, and Constantine's wounds are closed, blood and rips in his shirt still evident.

"He'll live, but it looks like both of you will need to take it easy for a while." Neo says, and you see he's also healed his own neck where he was knicked.

You reach over Constantine's body and pull Neo into a deep hug.

"Where would we be with out you..." You give him a long squeeze and he laughs.

"Dead. Probably." He says with a wheeze from how hard you've hugged him. You let him go, and smile, happy that you have the type of support you do here.

Just as you're starting to help Constantine sit up, carefully, you see two people walking up to your little scene.

"That was like, so totally awesome, dude!" You hear that familiar voice and look up in surprise.

It's Ted! And he's stark naked next to an equally as naked Bill, neither really finding it important to cover up.

"What! You didn't tell me..." You start, confusion and awe sweeping away your words.

"That we were like, kinda cool and rad werewolves?" Bill answers with a chuckle and Ted high fives him.

"Yeah, we didn't think you needed more supe's in your roster, babe!" Ted replies with his signature goofy grin.

They both lean down and help you and Neo carefully move Constantine inside, setting him carefully on the couch. You all manage, despite a few groans and coughs from Constantine along the way.

You stay by his side while Bill and Ted leave to get dressed, and Neo says he's running to the bathroom to clean the blood from his neck. You look down at Constantine who looks up at you through tired eyes.

"Guess it's you who needed the saving this time," you say, teasing him just a little despite the small tears that still fall gently down your cheeks.

"Guess I did..." He says and his arm reaches up, softly cradling the back of your head and pulling you in.

Your breath is stolen as he kisses you for the first time, tasting of blood and sweat. You don't even care, you kiss him back, hard. You've been waiting for this for so long now, and you're not going to let it go. You move your lips against his with so much want, and he returns the feeling fully, the connection between you two pulsing with love. You know now that you two can make it through anything, and you have never felt more capable, in love, or safe by those around you.

You know that despite everything, you truly are a slayer, and with those you love by your side, you need not worry about the future.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Taglist: @emacarrigton @sunnythebunny7 @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3 @generalkenobee

Be added to future updates here!

Ask to be taken off at anytime via message!

#john constantine x reader #john constantine fanfic #my writing #constantine x reader #constantine fanfic

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trashland-llamas · 1 year

Text

Howdy

synopsis; 3 separate meet-cutes involving fem! reader + soap, ghost, & gaz

they/them pronouns used for reader; fem reader

f/a/d-favorite alcoholic drink; can switch it out for soda or water if you don't drink

Before He Cheats - Soap

Catches y/n in the act of slashing their ex's tires after finding out their partner was cheating on them with one of the other regulars

'You do realize insurance will most likely cover that if you slash all of 'em right?' Unable to hide his amusement at the 'deer-in-the-headlight' stare they gave him. 'Stop while I'm ahead, got it.'

'Not that it's any of my business but what's the story behind all this?' This being the smashed headlight, and carved leather seats. Smart enough not to sign their work. A discarded Louisville slugger.

'My boyfriend always told me he was watching the game with his buddies, turns out he's been seeing someone on the side.' Noting the shock in their voice, surprised at their ex's audacity. Accent more prominent.

'He's one stupid man, losing someone like you. Name's Soap, in case we meet again.' He didn't know when his next deployment would be, but he hoped the fates would make them cross paths again before then.

'Y/n, if I don't end up in prison first.' Not caring enough at the moment to ask what kind of name is Soap. Especially when the person looked so ruggedly handsome. Y/n started picking up all their stuff, finding a phone number scrawled on the bat.

'Call me when you get a chance jailbird.'

Die A Happy Man - Ghost

Price had tried setting Ghost up on a blind date, being a regular at y/n's shop, he had overheard them moping about how single they were. With their permission, he gave Ghost their number. 'Simon, you deserve love as much as the rest of us. Plus if it weren't for Gaz and Soap, you'd be a literal caveman. Think about it, okay?'

Ghost randomly texts them one night when he gets back from a mission, just wanting someone to talk to. 'Price gave me this number.' is his blunt opening line. 'And who am I speaking to?' Glad he had type it in correctly. 'Simon.'

It's only until a week later of semi-consistent back and forth messages that Simon asks them out. 'I'll pick you up at 7pm, wear something nice.' Breathing out a laugh at their response. 'At least send me a photo so I know who to look for.'

'Charming.' He sent a masked selfie, holding up his driver's license.

Ghost forgets out to breath when y/n's walking out the door to meet him, a red dress hugging all their curves. 'You're gonna catch flies, Simon.' Hearing how his name rolls off y/n's tongue doesn't help.

'You don't look too bad yourself.' y/n compliments Ghost as they buckle up. A navy blue button up with some black jeans. A chain holding dog tags showing from the few buttons left undone at the top.

Simon ends up having a panic attack on their second date when y/n shows up in a little black dress. It turns into a funny story as y/n was scared shitless, not knowing what to do.

Party in the USA - Gaz

'Oh my god, I'm so sorry!' Gaz had barely budged from the force. He appreciated the apology despite how little he cared for the shirt. Opening his shirt to reveal a v-neck shirt underneath. 'No fuss. Can I buy you a replacement drink?'

Nodding, they told him that is was a f/a/d. Buying a shot for himself, he looked y/n up and down. 'I'm guessing you didn't get the memo?' His tone lighthearted, a teasing quality to it. Gaz was referring to how out of place they looked, no name brands in sight. It was rather refreshing if he was honest. 'What gave it away?'

'Oh, I don't know, maybe the boots. Or the country bumpkin vibes plus the attractive accent.' His response making y/n wonder if it was the liquid courage or if he was always this lofty. 'You think my accent's hot?' Hook, line, and sinker. 'Oh, I think it's divine. Name's Kyle.' Y/n being the forward one now, invited Gaz to the dance floor.

Laughing when Britney Spear's 'If U Seek Amy' played over the speakers, them poorly singing along. Off in their own world that Gaz was the only one privy to see. Unsure if he could call their movements dancing. Not that he was any better as he was glad to have a partner.

Scoring some point in the gentleman category, Gaz offered to drive y/n home, when they were hit with butterflies in their stomach. Grabbing his phone, Gaz watched as they type in their phone number. 'So you can text me that you got home okay.' Unable to deny how his heart softened. 'Awfully kind of you, but I will.' Trying his best to reassure them, not wanting to instill any worry.

'Home safe and in one piece.' Finally seeing their name, whispers to himself, 'y/n, a pretty name for a pretty gal.'

Refuses to call them anything other than 'country bumpkin,' to the point even his colleagues know them as that.

#cod #call of duty #x fem reader #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #meet cute #songfic #Spotify

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harukamitsuki · 27 days

Text

Okay... I am currently back on my Voltron bullshit and continuing my rewrite of Voltron. And I'm constantly reminding of HOW MUCH I HATE LANCE.

Don't get me wrong. I am still treating Lance fairly in my fic, making sure he gets screen-time and a proper character acr and stuff.

But by GODS. This man pisses me off so much and that's only made worse by his stans. I was scrolling through Keith's tag here on tumblr. I also have Kl@nce filtered out. I cannot see a single post without at least three pages of scrolling and then it's only ONE POST. AND IT'S STILL KLANCE BECAUSE IT HASN'T BEEN TAGGED CORRECTLY.

Anyway. Onto the actual things I hate about Lance and not just his fandom.

Lance is a fucking asshole. I mean that on the deepest level. Let's go through it chronologically because I cannot rank it from least to most assholery, because some things are on the same level.

1 - Allura wakes up from the cryopod and Lances catches her. She's confused and dazed and the first thing you should do is ask if she's alright. Oh, but Lance is above that. Instead, he flirts with her. Karma given immediately as she calls his ears hideous and puts him in a submission hold, which is why I kept that scene in my fic, but that was still wrong. I know it was played for comedic effect, but that doesn't make it not canon. It's canonically accurate that if you've awoken from a coma, Lance's first instinct is to flirt with you if you're pretty.

2 - Literally throws Hunk into the middle of a battle. I get that Hunk was supposed to leave the Lion anyway, but just shoving him out when there are lasers everywhere and Hunk has no protection? Yeah. So much for 'best friend'. Add on the fact that Lance never really treats Hunk like a friend. At all.

3 - Okay. Season 1 Lance isn't bad outside of those two examples, even if he has his dumb moments, so let's jump to Season 2. Starting shit with Keith for no reason. People can go 'oh, Keith obviously did something to him at the Garrison' but he DIDN'T. The writers themselves confirmed that Keith did nothing to Lance, he just started shit with Keith all the fucking time. Like accussing Keith of wanting Blue and cutting him off when he tried to explain what was actually happening, even though Lance is the one who was outraged initially that Keith had Red. Or how about Lance getting up in Shiro's face and screaming his head off about how Keith would rather kill people than listen to them, as if he knew Keith at all after bullying him the entire time.

4 - Okay. This one pissed me off the most and is the biggest reason I'm making this post. The fact that Lance used Shiro's death/disappearance against Keith. Keith outwardly expresses his lack of desire to become the leader and accidentally let it slip that Shiro wanted him to do it. To which Lance is all 'convenient that you say that when Shiro's gone'. What. What the fuck. Stans really say that Lance is precious but how the hell are you justifying that? A blind man could see how much Keith loves Shiro, and Lance has the fucking gall the say that Keith is USING his death/disappearance for a position he doesn't want? He didn't even apologise for it. He just told Keith to suck it up later on. This is one of the reasons I hated Lance as the Red Paladin, the others being explained in an earlier post of mine.

5 - Oh, yeah. We're not done. Because after Keith, it's Allura. Allur@nce is probably the worst ship that could have happened, apart from Kl@nce. If you wanted a straight ship, how about what was canon for the past Voltron series? Kallura? Anyway. Yeah, Lance treats Allura like a prize instead of a person. He's posessive in a way that he has no right to be because they were not together. He glares at Matt for flirting with Allura, something he only does once. He gets mad at Lotor and tries to stop them from spending time together, EVEN THOUGH LOTOR IS HELPING ALLURA AND BONDING THROUGH ALTEAN THINGS. HELPING HER KEEP IN TOUCH WITH ALTEAN CULTURE. In Season 8, he literally yells that it should be Lance and Allura?? What a fucking weirdo?? You can't claim that you're destined to be with someone without being together. That's not how healthy relationships work. That's how a stalker's mind works. Lance is constantly flirting with Allura throughout all of Voltron and she never once reciprocated until Season 8 where it's so obvious that Lance is just a rebound but the writers wanna make it so that it's 'true love' and they want Lance to be happier than anyone so they just gift her to him like some sort of trophy. Lance didn't care about loving Allura, he cared about winning her. At least Lotor actually cared for and respected her. I still don't like canon Lotor, but that's mostly because the writers didn't want to deal with gray morality. Cowards.

1 - Honestly the worst example of a leader. It's shown from episode one. Now, there is the argument of learning to become one, but Lance just never learns? He's never facing the consequences of his actions and, if he is lectured, he ignores it. Keith actually takes lessons to heart and tries to improve and he does. If Lance became the Black Paladin, the universe would have been doomed because he can't get over himself for a single moment to even bother listening to anyone else's advice.

So. Yeah. Those are the main reasons why Lance is an asshole. Now to make the Lance stans really pissed.

Reasons why Lance would have been a terrible leader and could never have been the Black Paladin.

Remember episode one? Remember how the hydraulic stabiliser was out in the simulator and Lance still tried to push on, even though Pidge and Hunk advised him not to? Totally great leadership qualities there. There's nothing better than a leader that refuses to listen to you. 'Oh, but Keith is stubborn and didn't listen--' yes he did. He's stubborn and unrelenting at first, but he eventually realises that they're right.

Remember episode three? Remember when Lance bragged about kicking, which made Voltron fall, then proceeded to try it again and failed again even when Keith advised him not to? Yeah. Lance does not make good decisions and does not listen to any advise. Even from the leader's right hand man.

Remember Season 1 Episode 12? Remember how they were waiting for Shiro and Allura to get back and then Keith saw someone taking quintessence so he decided to follow them? Remember how Lance said no and was ignored but did nothing more to stop Keith? He has no authority and no charisma to keep anyone at bay. Pidge herself mocks Lance for being the pinnacle for leadership. Sarcastically. Because he's far from it.

Pidge doesn't respect Lance as a leader, Keith never would considering Lance treats him like shit, Allura can't take Lance seriously with him hitting on her every ten seconds, and Hunk is always questioning Lance's decisions. If nobody respects you, you cannot be a good leader.

2 - Easily distracted. Yes, it's a very popular headcanon that Lance has ADHD, and I agree with that, but that doesn't make it okay. And he's distracted in the easiest ways. Just shove a pretty girl and he'll instantly get distracted and lead the entire team to doom. Remember Nyma and how easy it was for her to steal the Blue Lion? How he didn't even warn anyone that he was taking her out for a ride because he didn't want anyone contesting his conquest? Yeah.

Don't get me wrong. It's fine to have ADHD or get distracted easily. Monkey D. Luffy from One Piece is a great example of a leader who gets easily distracted, but the second he sets his mind on something, he blocks everything out. Lance just doesn't have the capability to do that, nor do I think he'd be able to learn how to.

3 - Gets jealous really easily. As in. Really fucking easily. He's jealous of Keith from the get-go, starting a one-sided rivalry that he's constantly on the losing side of because Keith doesn't care. He gets jealous of Matt when he flirts a bit with Allura. He gets extremely jealous of Lotor for having actual chemistry with Allura. He's constantly jealous and a good leader is only ever in competition with himself. A good leader will only strive to become better for the sake of the team, not to say that they're better than someone else, much less if they're someone that you are in charge of. It's a horrible trait to have.

Jealousy in and of itself is not a bad thing. It's when that jealousy overrides your logic and controls you, instead of you controlling your jealousy: which Lance struggles with a lot. And getting jealous over anyone who even looks at your crush is a very bad thing to do because you do not own your crush. It's okay to be jealous, but not posessively like Lance is. Not to the extent of trying to scare off any potential suitors.

4 - Nowhere near as skilled as Keith or Shiro. Sure, the writers may claim that he is better, but the proof is in the pudding. Keith and Shiro are fucking unmatched. I've defended Lance's skills in a previous post, but I also said in that post that, while he is skilled, he is nowhere near Shiro or Keith's level. I mean, Shiro was the golden child of the Garrison and set so many records. He was known as the best pilot. Keith beat those records and his flying capabilities are always, always noted. I haven't heard a single character comment on Lance's skills, other than to point out how bad they are. Keith was the only one who could have flew through the astroid field, he was the only one who could fly into the Marmora base which was in a blue star surrounded by two black holes, he was able to fly a Galra jet just by pushing the right buttons and knowing what the do, and he's the one who unlocks the warping abilities of the Black Lion. Shiro was able to connect with the Black Lion far before anyone else, able to see through Black and connect with Black to the point of his soul being saved by her.

Lance hasn't done anything spectacular. And, no. He was not 'done dirty'. He was given almost everything he wanted except the Black Lion. The writers claim he's the best pilot, but have not shown it at all. In my eyes, Keith and Shiro will always be the best.

5 - Selfish. Again. Nothing against being selfish. It's perfectly fine to be selfish, so long as it doesn't actively harm others. But for a leader? You should be as selfless as you can be. The team comes before you. And that's exactly what Lance isn't.

Lance is selfish and that's okay, but it's not leadership material. The whole reason Black rejected him is because he wanted the position out of selfish reasons. When he enters Black, he says 'Come on, Lance. You can do this'. In other words, he wants to pilot her because he wants to prove himself. He wants the acknowledgement. He wants the title of the Black Paladin and leader. Black accepted Keith, both at the start of Season 2 and Season 3, because he piloted her for purely selfless reasons. For Shiro.

Lance wants things for himself. Keith wanted things for Shiro. It was only after Shiro came back, (or so they thought), that Keith started focusing more on himself. Even then, he put everyone else before him. He distanced himself from the team so that Shiro could pilot Black again, and he was constantly risking his life for the Blades.

Lance just... isn't the type. He has put others before himself, but he expect things out of it. He expects a parade and acknowledgement. Nobody knew what Shiro went through to rid Zarkon of his connection to the Black Lion. Nobody knew what Shiro went through in his imprisonment because he doesn't want to burden anyone with that. Nobody knew what Keith went through to save Black and Shiro from Zarkon. Nobody knew what Keith went through when they were all mad at him for missing an attack. Lance doesn't withold that sort of stuff. The only thing he doesn't talk about is his insecurities, which he ends up spilling to the mice and Laika (the Yupper) anyway.

6 - Last one. Promise.

Nothing fucking happened. While Keith was gone, nothing of importance happened surrounding Voltron specifically. There was the Lion mind meld and Lotor joining, but all that served to prove was, with the mind meld, if Keith was there, he would have heard Shiro. And with Lotor joining, all it proved was how immature Lance was.

The second Keith gets back, things start happening again. Lotor gets outed as cruel and manipulative (still an ass-pull, by the way), Shiro gets outed as a clone, and so on. If Lance was leading, they all probably would have died ages ago. I'm talking Season 3 Episode 2, ages ago. Because Lance just isn't cut out for it.

So. Yeah. Those are the main reasons I hate Lance and why Black Paladin Lance is an awful idea. Screw the people who believe in it. It is awful.

Like I said, this won't affect my treatment of Lance in my rewrite, because I can fix those issues that come up. I don't have an issue with Season 1 Lance, it's later on that gets problematic. I just hate people building Lance up by bashing all the other characters, then claiming that Lance is the most traumatised, sad character when SHIRO AND KEITH ARE RIGHT THERE. NOT TO MENTION ALLURA, WHO LOST HER ENTIRE SPECIES, AND CORAN WHO LOST EVERYONE INCLUDING ALLURA AND NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE TO HER.

Fuck. I hate Voltron so much but I can't help but love it.

#vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron lance #vld lance #lance mcclain #anti lance #anti lance mcclain #anti klance #technically #i hate lance so much #i honestly cannot stand him or his fans #i promise i wont make him a horrible person in my rewrite just bc i hate him #i do have issues with other character but lance is the worst offender #anti black paladin lance #anti bp lance #black paladin keith truther #anti allurance

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daddyy333 · 1 year

Text

Hickeys | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 0.8k

warnings: I guess technically implies sex, hickeys, ?

“Shit! Shitshitshit- babe I’m gonna be late! We didn’t set the alarms!” You said and jumped out of bed, nearly falling flat on your face whilst you tried to put your work uniform on. Your boss was pretty strict about the uniform and being on time and all those things and you had yet to fuck up in the year or so you’d been working there but you would forever be scared as long as you worked there.

“Baby, baby relax. It’ll be alright, just try to be a little more calm and put your pants on correctly” he said, grabbing your shorts and hold them correctly. You rolled your eyes and snatched them from him, finally hoisting them over your hips and running to the bathroom, eyes widening at what you saw.

You groaned and said “god damn it you asshole!” You had 2 hickeys on your neck and one on your collarbone and then 3 on your boobs. Eddie came in and smiled, admiring his work. “I mean, you’re just so beautiful I-”

You threw a roll of toilet paper at him and he yelped slightly, running just in time so he didn’t get hit. You shook your head and worked fast to cover them up, not even bothering to eat breakfast and bringing your hair stuff in the car to do at work.

You got to work at 7:26. You’re supposed to clock in at 7:30. Usually you’re here at least 15 minutes before your shift and you take a little nap in the car but you’d rather be way too early than late. You did your hair as fast you ever will, just brushing it back into a low ponytail and then spraying some hairspray and calling it good.

You rushed to the door at 7:33 and unlocked it, quickly running to the back to wipe everything down and sweep the floors and start making things. “Hey, assholes!” You said to Robin and Steve who walked in half an hour late.

They gave you awkward smiles and you threw aprons at them. They worked at the diner with you as well, so you would always punch them in even when they were late. “I hate you guys! God, what would you even do without me?” You said and they both ran over and hugged you.

“Best coworker everrrr!” Robin said and groaned, shrugging them off. You sighed and said “go wash the dishes. And you, brew some coffee and start on some pies” “no problemo” Steve said and you rolled your eyes.

You shook your head and said “can you guys please come on time tomorrow?” “Okay fine” Steve said and you sighed. You bent over to grab some menus and other things to set up a little and Robin gasped.

Your shorts had ridden up a little, revealing a dark ass hickey on your lower ass cheek. “What? Shit, am I on my period?” You asked and Robin chuckled. Steve looked over and his eyes widened. “Holy shit,”

“Hey! Stop looking at her ass!” Robin said and you gasped. You stood up fast and said “what’s wrong with my ass?” “Dude, you have a huge and dark ass hickey on your ass” Robin said and you groaned.

“Cause my stupid ass boyfriend doesn’t listen!” You said, rushing to the bathroom. You barely had time to cover it before a customer walked in and you were terrified there were more you hadn’t found yet.

Eddie always came on his lunch break since he now owned his mechanic shop and so generously gives himself hour long lunch breaks. Of course, he knows it’s unfair to only give employees 30 minute lunch breaks so he doesn’t really mind when they’re late, only when they’re over 45 minutes late does he get upset.

“Hey, cutie. How long you been working here, I don’t think I’ve seen you before” he said, he always flirted like you haven’t been together for years. You sighed and said “I have hickeys in places that I need to not have hickeys in, Eddie. I told you nothing permanent or harsh, and now I have at least 7 hickeys that I know of”

“Hey, you did your fair share of work too, princess,” he said, pulling his collar down to reveal a few hickeys, but at least his were small and light and would probably be gone in a day or two. Yours would surely last a week, probably longer.

You sighed and said “can we please agree no more hickeys unless they’re in easily hideable places” “fine. Just stop being so sexy though” he said and you chuckled. You finally walked over and kissed him, setting down the burger, fries and milkshake you already had made for him.

“You’re so lucky I love you” you said and he smiled. He blushed a little and said “yea, I know. It’s what keeps me going everyday, baby” You blushed as well and kissed his head, leaving to seat the customers that just walked in.

He smiled, watching you and admiring you. He noticed one peaking through your shirt on the back of your neck and winced. He sighed and whispered “that makes 8” and chuckled to himself. Boy, you were gonna kill him.

Taglist: @readsalot73

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Eddissy

Maya Hawke

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction

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daydadahlias · 22 days

Note

hey <3 what do you think of dead dove fics?

don’t eat <3

nah I’m just kidding. rip in advance if you wanted a concise answer to this bc u def came to the wrong person for that 💙

Anyway, I have a lot of Thoughts on dd fics (unsurprisingly so bc I have a lot of thoughts about everything) but I will preface by saying if anyone who followed me in 2021 is reading this and going “well that’s definitely not what you said back then you little minx 🤨” just know that sometimes it takes time for people to mature and better understand concepts to form articulate, educated opinions on them. And also, I was evil back then.

That being said, I think the concept of dd fics is more layered than some allow it to be. And, largely, this comes down the dispute of 1) what is safe sane consensual kink and 2) does fiction exist inside a vacuum?

Personally, I don’t think fiction does and I don’t really have a lot of patience for people who say “it’s just fiction it doesn’t mean anything or affect anyone stfu 🙄” bc that’s just showing a lack of understanding for how art and life interplay.

I think that if you read enough fucked up material (or material about anything) - especially when you’re younger and developing and don’t have appropriate models to contrast it to - you end up having your perceptions of life warped around nonexistent ideals.

So, I do worry greatly about young people reading dead dove fics and potentially not understanding that’s what they are. I’ll just go right out and say that happened to me! I read a lot of really fucked up material when I was super young bc hello unlimited internet access and it severely affected my brain and my perspectives on the world and it has taken me a very long time to reconcile that and understand myself. And I wonder a lot about what I would be like if I HADNT been up at 2 am reading torture porn when I was 12 lol!!

And of course someone could argue with me on this point and say “well but Jess that’s not the creator’s responsibility to protect readers from themselves; it’s the consumer’s responsibility to know whether they’re mature enough or not to read something” but my problem is that it is and will always be the writer’s job to at least say in the A/N “hey, this is not ok irl, and is not an accurate reflection of sex. Please do not practice this irl” or something to that effect.

If people want to write “fucked up” fics, far be it from me to tell them not to!! Especially when I myself have plenty of concerning kinks! Like, I’m literally into kidnapping?? That does not scream stable! But writers have an obligation to tag their material correctly and update tags when asked. And that’s something I’ll always believe no matter what!! And something I will always pride myself on in my own writing/relationship with my audience.

Anyway, in terms of kink itself, here’s where things get a bit tricky for me to explain. I do, to some extent, believe that all kinks are “valid” in the sense that I genuinely know kinks and fetish aren’t controllable for an individual. You don’t just have full choice to decide to be into something (what an easy life it would be if you could). But, what you can control, is the way that you choose to interact with content related to your fetish.

If you have a potentially “damaging kink” — say, for instance, a cnc kink or an outright rape kink (which are often the subject of dd fics) — it is your responsibility to interact with that content in the safest way possible to keep people irl — and also yourself! — safe.

This means, if you write rape fiction, you need to have warnings in place to say this is NOT okay to recreate irl and it is NOT okay if you treat someone like this or someone treats you like this.

And I know you’re thinking “Jess?? Readers aren’t stupid?? They know rape is bad?? They don’t need to be told that??” But, here’s the thing, children do need to be told that. And if you’re posting on the internet, there is a STRONG chance a child/adolescent with unrestricted access to an iPad will read that content you’ve made and not understand what it is and it will affect their view of sex. And if you’re a writer who isn’t considering that potentiality, you don’t need to be posting fic or writing publicly and that’s my ~opinion~

Moving forward from that, I think there’s different types of dead dove fics (rape is an example but we also have stuff like beastiality, murder, gore, necro, scat, etc) and I’m not saying some are more “valid” than others but I think some are, in my personal opinion, more defendable than others in my own view. And there are some that I think are not defendable at all.

For instance, pedophilia fics (ie. fics that actively portray sex scenes between adults and minors for the gratuitous, erotic nature of it) are, to me, completely unredeemable.

If I were to find out a person I knew actively read pedophilia fic, I would forcibly remove them from my life. Because I do genuinely believe that people who read those stories are bordering on being as criminal as those who watch pedophilic videos. I think they need clinical psychological help. I do not think there is any reason whatsoever even remotely that a person should ever be reading or writing such material for personal pleasure.

So, for dd fics like that, my opinion stands as “this is concerning on a larger scale than just fiction as this could very well perpetuate pedophilic ideologies among readers and the writer and could lead to the harm of actual real life children.”

Now, for dd fics that are about, say, murder or gore… I think the line gets a bit fuzzy there for me because I personally love a torture moment. I’m not a murder stan and it kind of gives me the Ick when people romanticize murder but, like, I sure did write a ton of incredibly graphic fucked up gore when I was a kid and I still search “torture” willy nilly on ao3 in my fave fandoms. Certainly not for 5sos though bc it being rpf provides a few ethical concerns for me personally that I wouldn’t feel comfortable with. Which brings up the topic of, is dd different for rpf than it is for fictional fandoms? Personally, I believe so, but I think that’s very up to the individual.

I think that, really with dd fics, people just need to be aware of how to tag appropriately and protect readers from inaccurately perceiving something as normal that could be harmful.

But, I also understand that dd fics can be used to help people process trauma and heal from internalized shame. So, I would be hypocritical and kind of a dick to say I denounce them entirely. But i do also think there should be some consideration of Why certain things are being written/read and what the larger implications of them are on our society :)

#oh you shouldn’t have asked #you know my little ass is gonna monologue #pigeon #anon #thanks for asking!!!!#no one’s going to read this 😌#oh wait let me just add !!!!!#I’ve also WRITTEN dd fics #so like I genuinely can’t say I hate them #I’d be a liar and a hypocrite

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archivalofsins · 9 months

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I'm rarely in the tag- So, Star or others basically tell me how it's going in there and like-

All of ya'll sound like you're struggling. What Star told me sounds so stupid. Like this is the weirdest back and forth about nothing I've ever heard. It's impressive how committed everyone seems to be to making the same mistakes. It'd be really nice if more understood Amane's trial happens so late in the game that there's literally no way to change the outcome that's been locked in. Something even made fun of in her voice drama. So, voting based on how one wishes the story will go isn't going to change how it's going.

This is Milgram, after all.

Beyond that, just because someone gives another person their input doesn't mean that person has to take it as we've seen several ways before this with numerous other prisoners. It's ultimately sad because this behavior only sends one message that the abuse and neglect of children is excusable, but how the victims react to that isn't. I don't go into the tag because I've personally seen people literally devolve into doing abuser apologia (going maybe her mom was having a hard time too because of religion and the father being away have you thought of that) and I'm not putting myself through that.

I don't know if people think it's comedic or more humane to make light of the suffering someone was put through by pondering the emotional state of their victimizer or the troubles they could have been going through. But- like I'm too old and too used to hearing this shit to care about this talking point. This may come off as me being stubborn to some, and I can see how others would conclude that. However, sadly, my experiences have taught me that regardless of how bad things get attacking others weaker than you to let out ones frustration is not okay. Just because the person who shot someone is crying doesn't negate the fact they shot someone.

At the same time, it's my personal opinion that if someone does some shit they should be prepared to have that happen to them. One-sidedly hurting others with no consequence to oneself is not okay and never justified in my opinion regardless of if the person doing it is someone's parent/guardian. I don't know; that may be a pretty simple way of thinking, but I feel it's better than going, "Oh, did you ever think her mom was having a hard time, too?"

Because yes, I've thought that of course I've thought that. I grew up in an abusive household, and that is the first thing abusive moms say when they are abusing their children. So, I am incredibly aware of how this fucking works and the statements I've seen on this particularly issue can be retraumatizing to people whom have had these lived experiences.

At times, the things I have been unlucky enough to see and the way they've been discussed have been that to me. So, i can only imagine how people who are younger than me who have gone through these sorts of things or are still going through them feel. This is why even if the discussion around this does not change, it is important to tag this stuff correctly from the start and especially when asked to.

People shouldn't have to reveal personal details about themselves, for this topic to be discussed in a safe and respectful manner. People shouldn't have to be reminded that childhood abuse victims aren't this mythical storytelling device to actually talk about these things with some level of consideration. It's not what people enjoy hearing but individuals who have had the fortune of having parents/guardians or people throughout their lives that don't behave in this manner don't really have the right to tell people who have how they should feel about abuse/abusers.

Simply because it is such a difficult thing for people who have not had it happen to them to wrap their head around. So, they do end up trying to find common ground or an emotional reason that the abuser would act that way towards the person who was abused. However, I can promise anyone reading this that any excuse one can think of has already been used by an abuser and said to the person abused. So, saying stuff like this can easily reinforce that the abuse was justified and the victim deserved it even if that is not the intent of looking into it from that point of view.

This is why most media that discuss abuse try their very best to illustrate how senseless and wrong it is. Something Milgram does. Amane's mom does all this because Amane helped a cat; that's it. Discussing the environmental factors that lead to her mother doing this is giving more benefit of the doubt to her than is being applied to the actual person we're meant to be judging, which is wild. It's difficult for me not to take it as anything other than abuser apologia because no one had to take it there. Literally no one and it shows a flawed understanding of abuse and how it occurs on a societal level.

I am begging read a book, look up information on this topic, and tag posts involving discussing this trial properly. That's all.

#milgram #amane momose #tw child abuse #tw animal death #tw cults

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bonesandthebees · 9 months

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Okay I’m starting at the catacombs because I love that Wilbur willingly walked in there to find Phil while knowing what was on the other side. What I love even more is that Phil can pick up on someone else being there so fast (I wonder if Kristin told him he had company). And the cherry on top is the fact that Phil gets taken out by it being Wilbur rather than one of the Deathlings. Maybe he’s surprised because he didn’t expect Wilbur to come talk to him. Or maybe it’s the fact that Wilbur walked into the catacombs by himself.

Also, there’s the thing with him feeling Kristin presence again. Like he always feels it in the temple, especially when in sight of a statue, but the catacombs really are Kristin’s domain, even more so than the rest of the temple. And it’s interesting that he also feels Clara’s presence now, because he didn’t at the start or he thought he didn’t. And then that changed when he started getting visions, but it makes me wonder how much of it is really there presence and him much of it is just Wilbur’s imagination/state of mind.

Also, I’ve said it before, but Wilbur so would have an non-believer like Quackity is he hadn’t been yoinked to be the Pythia. [He didn’t want Her watching him. He was here for Phil. Not another goddess.] my man is so done with the whole religion thing. I hope going back to the palace doesn’t fuck him up too much.

(Side note: [Despite the serene look on his face, the Pythia could still see the worry brewing behind his eyes. Whatever Kristin told him might’ve reassured him for the time being, but it wasn’t enough to abate Phil’s concerns entirely.] This might be about the whole coup in general, but I am very worried about Tommy, though there’s no major character death warning, and if I remember correctly you always put those there beforehand (though that might have been a different author.)

(1/?)

-🌲

okay now time for the more recent asks lol

like I said in the older ask of yours I answered, kristin didn't have to tell phil wilbur was in there. wilbur was just really fucking noisy opening that door like he wasn't subtle at all

he was definitely surprised that wilbur walked into the catacombs on his own though. that was something he wasn't expecting.

I won't confirm or deny anything you speculated about kristin vs clara's presence, but I will say a LOT of it is dependent on wilbur's state of mind and his own feelings. like, this story is told entirely in his head. whenever he feels something, it's through his subjective point of view. if you're ever wondering how much of it is influenced by his own head, it's always going to be more than you think.

don't worry I will tag my fics properly if the need arises. though on rare occasions instead of MCD I might tag a fic with creator chose not to use archive warnings instead, if I felt that it was necessary not to spoil things. (that's not to say any fic I write with creator chose not to use archive warnings is going to have MCD in it, just that if MCD does happen and you think I didn't tag for it, look to see if I tagged it creator chose not to use archive warnings bc I almost certainly did)

either way though, rest easy bc glass doesn't have MCD or creator chose not to use archive warnings tagged lol

#ask #glass ch 25 #spruce anon

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rangergurlgleek1211 · 2 years

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One Line Any Fic

Tagged by the lovely @ravens-words.

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people.

A bad Day To Break Down (Tarlos)

As soon as Nancy hangs up, Carlos is dialing TK’s number, cursing in Spanish as TK’s voicemail kicks in. Trying two more times and still getting TK’s voicemail, Carlos quickly gets dressed, grabs his keys, and even takes his gun from the safe in their bedroom.

A Shock To The System (Tarlos)

“No, Mijo, this isn’t your fault. Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Andrea soothed him, her motherly voice surrounding him like one of those warm embraces his mother used to give when he felt like everything was collapsing around him. That tone had always meant family, home, and safety to him, and TK had been sure he had lost it with his mother’s death. Until this moment. “He’s strong, my Carlitos. He would never leave this world knowing you were right here waiting for him. He has to be fine,” Andrea continued, her words sounding so sure, giving him the strength he needed. “Pray with me, Mijo.”

I Could Really Use A Hug (Tarlos)

TK doesn’t know how much time has passed when he notices his dad and Tommy come into the bunk room, hesitantly standing at the door but not approaching. They're having a quiet conversation he can’t hear. His dad eventually begins to start toward him but Tommy’s hand on his shoulder stops him as she nods to the left, looking at something or someone outside the room.

That first night TK,That night i told myself seeing you at the bar. "I'm going to Marry him." (Tarlos)

“Yeah babe, that night while I was leaning against the bar, I noticed you smiling and laughing with your new crew. I was in awe. I never thought I would find someone in Austin. I was at a loss for words until I walked up to you when your friends went dancing. I knew then I just had to ask you to at least dance with me........"

Actually TK He is My Ex-Boyfriend (Tarlos)

“Oh just spit it out!!, it can’t be that bad, He mess up your organised desk, or has done something to disrupt you being a control freak ” TK replied sarcastically, laughing as he finished.

Why Can't things ever be simple? (Tarlos)

“My team has, I’m so happy I found you and your both okay. Or just about. What happened here, mate.” Tk asks as he crouched down in front of the injured boy.

“ We ran into a coyote, we tried to run but max fell. I think he broke his leg.” Chris explained.

We're a family, we will always have each others backs! (Tarlos+Firefam)

“How the heck did I miss that memo Strand” Captain Jacobs booms from behind them.

Everyone jumped at his sudden appearance.

“ That explains everything much clearer now, especially since you struggle to do your job correctly,” Samuels exclaims.

Am I Not Good Enough? (Tarlos/2x06 Coda)

“Hey” Carlos tips Tk’s chin up to look at him “If it’s got you this upset, it’s not stupid”

Pulling away from Carlos, Tk looks back down and spills everything that has been on his mind all day. What his father said, what happened at the minefield and how he found the bottle of wine in the bottom cupboard while making dinner.

Why Does It Always Happen To TK? (Tarlos)

Not hearing Matt Talking to him, Tk interrupts “Sorry Matt, but I really need to get back to my table my boyfriends waiting for me”. Looking a little shocked at matts closeness Tk took a step back. Realising the predicament he’s now in, Tk tried to look for any kind of escape. Watching everyone around them having a good time, TK realised he needed to sort this out by himself, so TK moved around Matt to walk away from him.

A Blast From The Past (Tarlos)

Tk’s vision slowly started to come back into focus and the words around him became clearer. Tk felt tired. It had been years since he had a panic attack that bad. New York, Tk’s mind registered. Remembering it slightly and realisation dawned on him as he slowly looked around at the crowd who had gathered, looking for the cause of his panic attack.

Well that was more than a sentence. But i couldn't just choose one line from each paragraph lol. hope you enjoyed these snippets and want to read more.

Tagging : @sapphire11,@chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @noxsoulmate, @tarlos-spain. @beautifulhigh.

#one line fic game #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911ls #fanficiton #ravens-words #tagged #tarlos fanfiction #sneak peaks

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shinydixon · 2 years

Note

So much of what Grace talks about when it comes to Chrissy is just talking about how sweet she is (which we say but you can’t tell me there isn’t more personal thoughts or headcanons you have on the character you play aside from how sweet she is). She constantly mentions the ship, Eddie and Joe.

Nowadays all I see her rubbing things in the “faces of antis”. Her dangling that whole Joe’s birthday thing, she can’t seem to discuss her success without bringing up haters, lately it was look at this WaPo article I’m featured in about being a nepo baby, haters! It’s not the insult you think it is.

Nothing she speaks about is… just chrissy, her character or personality (minus how sweet she is), dynamics that aren’t Eddie. I get that there isn’t much to speak on but, you can expand and tell us your hcs for the character, I know fans would be interested in that. She constantly brings up the forest scene. I know it’s her most relevant one but how much more can be said about it? I haven’t seen her speak on any other scene at all.

And lastly every single thing she discusses now is “dunking” on antis. Like okay. I understand people have send her unwarranted hate and yes, there are people who are fuming about this. But you mean to tell me you can’t be genuinely excited and happy about roles and opportunities for the reason of success and not “hahaha antis hate this”?

The fact that if you have a different opinion you become automatically an antis.

Yesterday an eddissy blog told me that, since I posted on Grace tag my opinion on the latest drama (sorry if I tag correctly my posts lol) then I am an anti 💀💀💀

I mean it's fine being excited about a character, it's one of the biggest project she worked on so I get the hype, but yeah, nothing new about Chrissy; only that she's sweet and that she and Eddie would've become a couple if she was alive (the last one, I don't believe lol, she defined would've stay with Jason sorry not sorry)

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teachablemomentsblog · 1 year

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Heart Map: The IHOP Story (Part Two)

"Oh, he's just a friend..."

Even if by some minor miracle Alexa had told him not to, “just a friend” Robbie needed to make sure that his and her MySpace friends saw their super fun time at his pool that day. To make matters worse, Robbie also felt the need to specifically send me photos of the two of them together DIRECTLY FROM HER PHONE. (Maybe Robbie felt just as threatened by me as I was by him? Yay?) He sent photos of them smiling in their bathing suits together. Photos of them hugging in their bathing suits together. Photos of him kissing her on the cheek in their bathing suits together. She ditched me for this. So her and Robbie could work on their friendship…in their skimpy bathing suits ...together. I quickly responded with some highly inappropriate language back to Alexa on her phone. And for the next two weeks I held off responding when she texted me. (Pretty good, right?) Even I, somehow, had found my limit. I was done. No way. No more Alexa. (My students quickly pointed out that we hadn’t made it to IHOP yet, so this had no chance of working. They inferred correctly! Way to go, kids! Let’s keep going!)

Still holding strong, one evening I invited my friends Jess and Michelle over to hang out in my mom’s backyard and play cards with me. (I also may have been trying to make something happen with Jess. Girls find playing cards attractive, right?)

Everything started smoothly, including Operation Awkwardly Flirt With Jess, until Alexa called me. And I answered. Why? I looked back on this moment and asked myself the same thing. What could have possibly compelled me to answer the phone? I could only come to this. She texted religiously but NEVER called me on the phone. It had to be something important. (Not to mention the general shock of her actually calling me. I panicked and answered.)

“Hello?”

In slurry, disjointed speech. “Hey. So, I know you don’t want to talk to me or whatever. But I’m hanging out with my friend Trey and he’s got me really drunk and he’s trying to take advantage of me. I’m scared. He’s being pushy. I know you’re a good guy and I didn’t know who else to call. I’m hiding right now. Please. Help me.”

“Wait, what? Where are you?”

Click. Call ended.

I called her back multiple times with no answer. I had only one option left. I had to drive to her neighborhood and check on her. I explained the situation to Michelle and Jess. Even though neither one of them fully understood why I HAD to go (me neither), for whatever reason, they agreed to tag along. (Alexa also officially squelched Operation Awkwardly Flirt with Jess due to her latest escapade.) We left my mom’s house in Montgomery at 1:30 in the morning. It typically took approximately 35-40 minutes to drive to Alexa’s house for our hot dates. The three of us had a long night ahead of us, but I had to go...right?

A little after 2AM, crammed into my tiny Accord, we made it to her cul-de-sac. Much to our frustration, we parked next to her house, opaque and undisturbed. It appeared her dead end had been quiet for hours. It had been a long shot she’d even be home since, in her drunken stupor, she never actually said WHERE her and Trey were drinking. But I had nowhere else to go.

“Try calling her, again?” suggested the ever-optimistic Michelle.

Four times. Five times. No answer.

Sadly, I could barely contain my anger. But, seriously, from my experience, what an Alexa thing to do. How Alexa. She calls and tells me she’s in trouble and now I can’t locate or get in touch with her. How Alexa. Actually, thinking about it now, I should have been more concerned than furious...whoops...

Without any signs of life at her house, and nothing but a voicemail from her phone, I practically exhausted all my options. But, I needed to know she was okay. Even with my ongoing frustration, I needed to know. I decided on the only option I had left. I decided to call her house phone. At 2:15 AM. Thus waking up her parents and alerting them to her absence. It would almost certainly get her in ultra-trouble, but I needed someone else to know if I couldn’t contact her.

The phone rang three times before her mom picked up.

“Mmm...hello?”

“Umm...hi Ms. A--. This is Gannon. I’m so sorry to call you this late but, I got a really weird phone call from Alexa earlier and she’s not answering. I just need to know she’s okay.”

“Oh...okay...well I think she’s asleep in her room.”

“Yeah, well, I know you think she’s in her room but...could you please check for me? Sorry, again.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so condescending. But, given the current circumstances, I had an edge towards everyone.

I heard a rustle of sheets and a creaky mattress as her mom rolled out of bed and made her way down the hall to Alexa’s room.

“Gannon, she’s sound asleep in here. I’m looking at her right now.”

“Oh. I see. Okay, then. Well...sorry to bother you so late. Thank you.” She also may have heard a weird crunching sound on the phone from me grinding my teeth together.

“Okay, Gannon. Goodnight.”

Well, great. What a waste of time And we still had the long drive back to Montgomery. Even after two weeks of silence, Alexa had still managed to butcher my night.

We pulled into my mom’s driveway at roughly 3:15 AM. Needless to say, Michelle and Jess did not feel like staying and hanging out. I watched them leave, went inside the efficiency, and passed out.

At 7:18, I woke to the buzz of my phone under my cheek. Alexa. (I specifically remember the time because I couldn’t believe she was awake this early.) In my groggy morning lethargy, I picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Listen, I talked to my mom this morning. I’m so sorry for last night.”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t know what happened. But I feel really bad. (That’s odd…) Let me make it up to you. Come pick me up, I’ll take you out to breakfast. IHOP. My treat.”

I have no idea why I agreed to this morning rendezvous. I truly think, by this point, it genuinely intrigued me to hear what had happened the night before. Plus, I wanted to have something justifiable to tell Jess and Michelle, if they ever actually decided to come hang out again. Like how did she go from being taken advantage of by Trey to sound asleep in her bed upstairs all within the course of 30-40 minutes? We all want to know!

I hadn’t changed from the night before so I quickly brushed my teeth and left. I remember little to nothing about the drive to her house, but I do remember her walking out to my Accord.

I incorrectly assumed we both equally shared the hungover effects from last night, so I didn’t make much of an effort to clean myself up. However, at first glance, Alexa looked stunning, like she prepared for another one of our “hot dates”. She wore a bright pink top with skinny jeans, littered with holes in suggestive places. I started already secretly forgiving her, which felt like a typical, discouraging cycle within our relationship. Relationship? Friendship? Acquaintance? Friend request with benefits?

She sat down and I quickly forgot how pissed I wanted to be at her. Until she pulled out her phone. Within ten seconds of driving she had already forgotten her guilt and used her trusty cellphone to ignore actually having a meaningful conversation with me. Now, at this point, I knew Alexa well enough to know that, sadly, she just couldn’t help but text. (Sounds eerily similar to some of my students.) So, even though it annoyed me, I didn’t say anything. As we drove down Research Forest Drive, I tried forcing conversation, even though she was the one trying to prove her remorse. And yet, Alexa only managed grunt responses before continuing to tap on her screen.

After I had cooked WAY BEYOND my boiling point, I testily asked her what she kept doing on her phone.

“Oh, I’m texting my friend, Trey, from last night.”

… … …

I didn’t know what to say. Oh...okay? You mean the guy that supposedly took advantage of you last night and you called me about and made my friends and I drive over to your house at 2 AM for nothing? That guy?

I couldn’t believe it. And, she said it so casually, like she couldn’t comprehend why that would matter to me while I drove her to IHOP to validate her apology. Aside from the “click click” of her fingers on her cellphone, dead silence in the car, even as we pulled into the IHOP parking lot.

We both walked in and the hostess seated up in a booth across from each other. The waiter came with our menus and exchanged some pleasantries with us. He took our drink orders and came back with two waters. He then took our food orders. This whole time, the two of us hadn’t spoken. My back squeaking against the laminate, I fumed. Each little “click” her phone made when her nail pressed a button felt like another turn of the vice around my stomach. This could not be her vapid excuse of an apology. It felt more like an insult than anything. I couldn’t take it.

Even surprising myself, I suddenly snatched the little piece of glowing plastic from her hand and started scrolling. The whole time we’d been together, she hadn’t stopped talking to Trey. The highlights of the conversation consisted of, well, things I can’t specify to my students, and probably shouldn’t specify here. Let’s just say the entire conversation revolved around discussing certain acts they did to each other in their drunken haze. Which she detailed to him via text WHILE SHE ROAD IN THE CAR WITH ME. I should have flipped the table. I should have thrown her phone across the restaurant. But I didn’t. Instead, I steadily closed the phone and set it on the table. I stood up, walked out the front door, hopped into my car, and left.

I didn’t know where to drive. While I considered my options, my phone rang. Who else, but Alexa. I took a deep breath and answered.

“Hello.”

“You’re a f***ing bitch!”

Without skipping a beat, without raising my voice or saying any of the other things I wanted to, and should have said. Without cursing her out or jumping into a giant monologue, I responded with one simple line.

“Well, at least I’m not a bitch stranded at IHOP.”

And I hung up.

My Teachable Moments

With Alexa, I found myself always focused on the crazy-to-hot ratio. If a girl is extremely crazy, they will need to be extremely hot to balance this out. Based on this experience, if you even have to consider the crazy-to-hot ratio, it’s not a good sign. And if you are like me and come up with something like the crazy-to-hot ratio in the first place, you are clearly doing it wrong.

Stand up for yourself. I like to think that half of my problems, and by half I mean most, if not all, of my problems with Alexa stemmed from allowing her to take advantage of me. Had I had enough confidence, I would have cut off the relationship a long time ago and saved myself a lot of headache. Although, I would have missed out on a pretty good story, so I’m torn on this one.

I love emphasizing Alexa’s moments with her cellphone when I tell this story. Far too often, I see my students ignoring one another to play around on their phones. I understand maybe when casually hanging out with someone you see all the time that it’s deemed acceptable to relax and scroll. But on a date, stay off your damn phone. It’s rude.

Oh, and next time, eat at Denny’s.

#education #teaching #students #school #mindset #lifelessons #IHOP #bad dates #covidー19 #covid pandemic #myspace #cringe #awkward #funny

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fang-wife · 3 years

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»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

loft music | tamaki amajiki

➳ tags ;; mean!reader, sub!tamaki, teasing, mild humilation, degradation, unprotected sex, the petname bunny n fucktoy, sweet lil ending, there’s only one bed, oh no!

➳ wc ;; 2.4k

➳ a/n ;; speed wrote this shit at 6am and it’s currently 9am. i haven’t slept...

edit: reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags </3

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks you’re joking most of the time.

It’s to be expected of someone like Tamaki - all nerves, fear, anxiety. He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to believe someone like you actually means all the flirty things you say. Certain you’re making fun of him, he tries his hardest to let the commentary slide off his shoulders like he needs it too.

But it’s hard. You make him feel so frazzled. It’s so hard to pretend he isn’t bothered by your too close touches, the warmth of your breath, the feeling of your body pressed against his when you hold his arm on patrols. It’s like he knows - deep down, that you’re doing it to mess with him. He knows that you’re doing it to see him frustrated because you make that face when he squirms. It’s so evil and so mean and humiliating -

and so unbelievably arousing. It makes his breath catch in his lungs - his stomach twist and turn. It makes his entire body burn with desire and he hates it. He feels uneasy when he sees you - not knowing what thing you’ll do to string him along like before. There’s a restless that you’ve grown inside him - planted in his heart and lungs that he finds inescapable. He’s more afraid of it when you’re not there, on the days you don’t bother him at all.

He can’t understand himself. Why he’s so disappointed when you’re partnered with someone else on patrol. Why he goes home feeling extra miserable when you haven’t said something to push his buttons. It makes him feel like a puppy waiting for it’s master - downtrodden and depressed without your attention.

There’s the jealousy too. That bitterness in his mouth when that new rookie clings to your side with doe-eyes. It made him sick to see you pinch the newbies cheek with any kind of affection - ruffling his hair and throwing your arm around his shoulder.

It’s all unreasonable. And confusing. He doesn’t know how to feel about you and can’t determine how you feel about him. There’s not even anyone he can tell because how was he supposed to explain himself?

But he has to rid himself of this frustration somehow - manage it before he really breaks down.

{ ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ }

He knows for certain that being on this mission with you, alone - in this room with one bed, will not help him at all.

He cannot remember a time he felt this miserable. His heart damn near fell out of his ass when the receptionist told him about the mix-up. It didn’t help that he saw that little whimsical look in your eyes when you registered it. The faux disappointment and shrug. Tamaki doesn’t trust you at all, not one bit.

He figures he must’ve done something truly evil in a past life to deserve this. He’s expecting some kind of commentary from you given the whole situation when you enter the room. There’s a couch, and a desk. A singular lamp and a TV - and the bed is big but not big enough for two. Not big enough for you to sleep truly separate.

He awaits your commentary anxiously, as your eyes drink in the surroundings. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he knows it’s not you opening the curtains and staring out into the city.

“It’s really a beautiful. Shame we’re only here for a mission,” ― you sigh, stretching your arms and yawning ― “I’ll take the couch tonight, by the way. We should sleep soon,”

His eyes widen. Did he hear you correctly?

“Sorry, what?”

You turn your head and blink at him, head cocked to one side. You blink a few times before knitting your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Y-you’re gonna sleep on the couch?”

You nod.

“Yeah. You’ll be using your quirk a lot tomorrow, so at least for tonight - I’ll take the couch”

Tamaki isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel about it. He knows it shouldn’t be disappointment. He nods dumbly.

“Oh.. okay”

“Cool. I’m gonna get washed up and head to bed - I’m beat”

He watches you slink off to the bathroom, dumbfounded.

{ ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ }

You’re putting on skin cream as Tamaki contemplates your proposal. The only thing in the background is some TV drama - but the words are blurring. His head is racing with a million thoughts. You’re not even fazed - seemingly off somewhere in your own world as Tamaki sorts his own emotions out by weight.

Everything else, reason, shame, anxiety - is drowned by the most unpleasant feeling of disappointment he’s ever experienced. He’s trying his hardest to understand it but every time he tries - his brain fires off into question marks. Why the hell is he so disappointed? Shouldn’t he be relieved?

But he isn’t. He feels so uneasy he wants to throw some kind of tantrum but he can’t. He’s changed into pajama pants and a loose white shirt - his legs crossed on the bed. He chews his lip nervously. Why does he feel like this?

“Uhm, y-you know you should.. sleep on t-the bed with me. Uhm, since - we’re both gonna be.. uhm, busy”

What is he saying? What is he doing?

You pause, turning over your shoulders with your brow quirked. You mask your amusement, straightening your face.

“Oh.. uh - you sure? Won’t that be uncomfortable for you?,”

Obviously.

“No!”

You smile at him.

“Then.. sure. Let me know if I make you uncomfortable”

And with that you turn away to face the mirror - finishing the rest of your skincare and putting it away as Tamaki anxiously sets alarms on his phone and adjusts his side of the bed. He tucks himself in before you do - with his eyes closed, listening to the rustling of your movement. He waits and waits for what feels like an eternity until your body weight dips on the other side of the bed.

He can feel you. Your body radiating a pleasant warmth - the smell of hotel soap and your skin cream and whatever detergent you always use. He buries his face into his pillow to try and mask his burning humiliations but his mind feels so blank. If he moves an inch your bodies would be touching - the lights are off but the city is bright enough that it doesn’t matter. Tamaki shuts his eyes and prays for something. Not entirely sure what, but something.

You move around and bristle against him - and he flinches.

“Tamaki, you okay? Sorry about that -”

Your voice has gone low in the night, soft and gentle. He squirms. Unsure what to do with this leftover frustration, he hugs his pillow to his body and buries his face in it.

“‘m fine,”

“.. You sure? You seem kinda off. You can talk to me,”

Your assurance is gentle. It makes Tamaki feel strange. You’re lucky he can’t see you because your smile would give you away. He’s so obvious it hurts you, but you play nice. You can be mean later, soon so for now - you play nice.

He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t know what to do with himself. His cock twitches pathetically in his pants and he freezes. His body runs cold with a shiver. You turn to face his back.

Tamaki feels like prey more than ever. Like most predators, you know when to sink your teeth in. He’s not exception not really. You scoot closer to him, voice just a whisper.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Tamaki?”

He can’t answer, but he shakes his head.

“No? Then what is it?”

You’re close. Too close. He trembles as your body presses against his back - let’s out a noise.

“Use your words, Tama - I won’t bite. Why do you feel like this, hm?”

Your hands hover above him. His body shudders. His voice hiccups, a sob deep within his ribcage pouring out of him. It becomes clearer than ever that he needs you to touch him. Shame blooms in his belly.

“I won’t touch you till you say yes” ― you sound amused, the kind he’s learned to recognize ― “If you want to go to sleep, just say the word”

He breaks. Shatters into pieces as a tremor tears through him.

“Please,”

“Please what?”

“Touch me, touch me please - can’t,”

Your hands come up under his shirt, pinching his nipples as you place a kiss to his shoulder. His back arches, whimpering as his eyes shoot open. Your breath ghosts along the nape of his neck, your hands settled at his chest.

“Okay” ― you soothe ― “Turn around for me, baby”

Baby. Tamaki shudders as he flips over to face you. You reach over to flip the lights on - only a gap between you two. His brain feels like it’s melting - your face is so close to his own. You give him a small smile - eyes brimming with tears and expression burning red. You reach your hand to wrap around his neck and bring him towards, kissing him feverishly. He moans when he feels your tongue in his mouth.

He kisses you eagerly, hands frozen at his side as your tongue explores his mouth. Outlines his teeth, brushes against his own - he melts into the touch. He whines disappointedly when you stop.

Your hand cups his face.

“You’re such a pervert, Tamaki” ― you grin, brushing your thumb against his lower lip befores ticking it in his mouth ― “Got so antsy without me. You like being teased so much?”

Not in a spot to deny it, he merely shuts his eyes.

“...why did you stop t-teasing me?”

You chuckle, kissing the shell of his ear as your hands slide up his waist, around his body.

“I thought you didn’t like it baby,”

He muffles himself, mumbling about how he didn’t think he did either. Your hand travels down, squeezes his hard cock from his pajama pants. Gasping for air, he moans and ruts into your palm.

“You like when I’m mean to you, Tama? Like when I make fun of you ‘n tease you?”

“Hnggh”

You hold a hand up to his mouth with a warm smile.

“Spit”

His eyes go wide as you blink at him curiously. A pang of shame hits as he spits into your palm weakly, watching through lidded eyes as your hand travels to his cock - just underneath his sweats. His hands fist the sheets as you pump him lazily.

“You’re cock is so red ‘n pretty, Tamaki”

“You’re ― hic ― you’re m-making fun of me”

“’s that why you’re so hard? It’s drooling all over my hand. You’re so wet - they’re gonna have to change our sheets in the morning” ― you tease ― “They’re gonna know how lewd you are bunny, so much keeps coming out when I touch you”

He shakes his head, grits his teeth. He can feel himself creaming into your fist, overwhelmed by your touch. His eyes are screwed so tight it aches. So lost in pleasure and the sound of your voice humiliating him.

“You like being my little fucktoy, bunny? Like when I treat you like a pet and play with you whenever I like?,”

“Aaah, aah - pl-please” ― he shakes his head furiously ― “can’t t-take it, please”

“Bet you’re gonna make the cutest face when I let you fuck my pussy,”

His eyes shoot open as he feels you scoot closer to him. You pull his pants down swiftly - your hand covered in pre-cum. He watches with wide eyes as you pull your own shorts down, a string of arousal trailing down your thigh. Tamaki watches it with hearts in his eyes, making you laugh deeply. It’s an affirmation that you meant everything you said - that he was making you like that too. It’s enough to make him sniffle.

He watches as you lift your leg up - tugging his cock towards you. It’s pretty - thin and long and so red it’s almost purple. Your cunt envelops it . Clit throbbing against the tip, Tamaki’s sure he’ll cum if he moves. You grind against him so slowly, bringing his face towards you.

His mouth drops open as you kiss him. His dick is twitching relentlessly at the way you gasp.

“Feel how wet you make me when you look all pathetic?”

“Can I please, nghh - can you please let me,”

“Wanna cream inside me, bunny? Wanna fuck me so bad you’d do anything?”

He nods rapidly. A silent scream leaves his mouth as you adjust - slide yourself right down onto his cock. You feel so much better then he could ever picture. Soft and tight and warm and wet - like pure fucking velvet. His hands dip into your hips for support. Through lidded eyes, he watches your hand come down between your thighs.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t - ‘m gonna,”

You feel him spurt his hot cum into you with a loud, broken cry. His throat, sored from exhaustion, doesn’t serve him any better when you start moving. Fucking yourself on his overstimulated, half-hard cock with face paced rhythm. Your fuckin his cum right back into you and he’s sobbing through the overstimulation. His mind feels so broken - so pliant and obedient.

“’s too much ― ! p-please, can’t”

“Shh, ‘sokay baby,” ― you groan, meeting him in a kiss that manages to overwhelm him even more ― “Fuck, gonna cum, fuck”

The tension in your gut snaps like a rubber band and your whole body spams. Clenching down so tightly on Tamaki, he sobs. You’re whispering good-boy and other praises until you’re down and sobered from your high.

When you open your eyes - Tamaki is staring at you in amazement. His cock has gone soft inside you but you don’t bother telling him to pull out.

“You did so good baby,” ― you kiss the crown of his head ― “good job”

He feels small and warm under your touch. A blush forms on his cheeks, words completely failing him to express himself. You don’t make him. Brushing your thumb against his cheeks, you smile.

“I know I tease you a lot, Tama - but I really do like you,’

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He shrinks when he hears you giggle, flushing.

“I.. I l-like you too”

You chuckle, petting his hair and burying his face in your chest. You let your chin rest atop his head and nod.

“Then we’ll have to talk more tomorrow. Let’s sleep, okay?”

He blushes, embarrassed but content..

“O-okay..”

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

#tamaki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #tamaki x you #tamaki x y/n #knk ;; [ overstimulation ]#knk ;; [ degradation ]#sub!tamaki #sub!bnha

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strawberry-nugget · 3 years

Text

𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙄 𝙠𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 | E. Kirishima/ Reader/ K. Bakugo

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 1

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: after weeks of Bakugo distancing himself from you and Kirishima you finally get the chance to talk out what happened the other day, one thing leads to another and...

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, thr*esome, oral (f! and m! receiving), double penetration, fingering, p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, all characters portrayed are over the age of 20

𝘼/𝙉: I'm so sorry this took me so long. I know this is 6.5k with little to no plot but I hope you enjoy this, hehe, thanks for all of the notes and amazing comments on the last one. I'll be reblogging in a few minutes with the tags in those who asked. Also. This is top Kirishima. Top top top top Kirishima.

It's been two weeks now that you and Bakugo exist in different timelines.

He's never home, lost in patrol after patrol, leaving a hot mess behind him in his room, belts, gear, his back up costume messily sprawled across his room -you guess he doesn't have enough time to clean everything up. Still, the rest of the apartment always looks inhabitable, save for the little mess you make in the kitchen when you cook; he never cleans what's supposed to be your task.

You feel yourself growing sadder every day. It's something Kirishima notices and informs you he feels as well, rooted deep in how Bakugo is treating the two of you ever since that night. And the worst part is you can't do anything about it. He doesn't return his phone calls nor does he ever pick up, and by now you've accepted that he purposely avoids being in the house with you. It hurts even more knowing that he and Kirishima see each other at work every day; at least he knows Katsuki is doing okay, though as he reports, he rarely ever talks more than patrol and business.

You only wonder why he acts the way he does, thinking you don't deserve to get ghosted over for what happened. He's your roommate and one of your best friends, whatever made him feel like he has the right to ghost you with such each is not going to go by so easily and you're not willing to wait it out anymore either.

Thus, this Thursday night you call in sick for work and emerge yourself in the bathtub after checking the clock. 7.25pm. It's still an hour until Katsuki is off his shift, which means you have plenty of time to do some self care. Shave your legs, scrub your whole body with your coconut scrub- anything to calm down that put of anxiety that's starting to boil in the pit of your stomach.

You fear for the worst. That Katsuki doesn't want to be your friend anymore, and losing him doesn't sit right with you. Not over just catching him masturbating once.

There's a ton of things you want to say, or ask him. The lingering thought of him liking Kirishima or you digs deep enough into your brain and plants itself there, getting comfortable right next to the thought of him being jealous of your relationship. Could this be it? Could he just be lonely? He never talks about meeting anyone or having sex -that must be it, he's lonely, that's all.

Your bath doesn't last for long because you're nervous and the water runs cold before you have the chance to enjoy yourself. Maybe it's time to start turning the heating on in the apartment and you curse yourself because you have to talk this out with Bakugo as well -fuck its hard to not live on your own when you have to make shared decisions with someone. To your stomach's turbulence dismay you can't get out of talking to Katsuki.

"No, I literally won't tell you where she is Bakugo"

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of the door unlocking and closing again, followed by your boyfriend's familiar voice. You don't make a single movement to exit the bathroom yet- you're frozen, opting to rest on top of the toilet cap until you hear Bakugo's reply, your gut falling into a muddy pit of panic.

"I swear to fucking god if you two are trapping me to talk about it"

Typically of him, he shouts, barking and chewing a few sounds of what he's saying. Kirishima knows he's all bark and no bite though, you're eager to figure out how he'll oppose him.

"She wants to talk to you, you can't just ghost her like that when you live with her" There's a long pause next "and you should have told me that you're in fucking love with her"

"What?" Katsuki exclaims

What?

"You think I'm an idiot? Or that I can't comprehend basic human behavior? I know how people who feel the way you do act"

"What are you even saying Kirishima? That I'm jealous?"

You blink feverously, trying to take in what you're listening to unfold in the other room. You know a part of you has been wishing that this scenario wasn't true.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying. You should have told me you liked her in the beginning. I would have never made a move"

They bicker back and forth for a few minutes; Katsuki accusing and Eijiro defending, then switching back and forth before going silent. It's then that you think you should emerge from the bathroom. It feels wrong to not be part of this conversation when you're the reason for their bickering, but at this point the guilt in your stomach is rotting and polluting your insides.

With a sigh, you turn the doorknob and inhale deeply. You tell yourself you can do this. You have to do this, yet your eyes are filled with hot and salty tears as you approach the living room.

Both of them eye you simultaneously, pursed lips and hands crossed over their chests; the only relieving thing about this is that they're sitting next to each other on the couch, their calves slightly touching. You know they'll make up again, they always will, but you're scared you won't be able to be part of that make up. Not with the information that's been poured onto you.

"Hi" You whisper and despite being sure both of them heard you, they make no effort to open their mouths and talk back "I uhm" You clear your throat "I heard what you were ah saying"

"Course ya did" Katsuki growls "course ya fucking did"

"Baku- I-"

"Save it! I'm gonna-" He snaps and makes a move to get off the couch, though Eijiro has other plans; he slams him back down with just a push of his hand

The same hand that's extended to you, overlapping Katsuki's chest, wordlessly asking you to join them on the couch. Your heart warms up slightly. Kirishima always does his best to make you feel included, it's no surprise he's smiling at you when you take a seat next to the blond.

"You're not going anywhere Bakugo. And babe, you can speak now"

Though you smile nervously with your lips, your first word falls silent, in awe of a lung filling sigh. Then by the time you gather some thoughts together your chest is shivering and the tears that you managed to drown before are now threatening to spill from your eyes again.

Kirishima is watching you religiously, pouting as you throw your head to the opposite direction of his to let out a small sob. He tightens the grip of his hand around yours and barely notices Bakugo batting his eyes to that direction.

"Hey, no, don't cry"

"I just don't want to lose Bakugo because of this" you sob and Kirishima shoots a killer gaze at the blond, biting the inside of his lip.

"You're not losing anyone idiot" Bakugo says, clearing his throat, giving Kirishima a strained look as well

"Babe, don't worry, Bakugo and I will be fine, you and Bakugo will be fine"

You sob again, wiping a stream of tears that's falling from your eyes and Kirishima wastes no time on cupping your cheek after bullying Bakugo to do the same. A nice change, you think, two hands reaching out for your face, you could almost get used to this.

"Yeah, you're not losing me" Bakugo tries to soothe, though by Kirishima's demand he adds to his words "I- uhh, I might want you but this has nothing to do with us not being friends"

"Yeah?" You sniffle, looking up

"Yeah"

It's too soft how you're cuddled into their arms instantly, pulled on top of them to sit on both of their laps, held tightly in both of their embraces. You coo into their arms for a while, content when Kirishima kisses your cheek and sobbing faintly when Bakugo rubs your back in circles.

"Do you want a beer baby?" Kirishima asks, softly patting your back and kissing your nape as he leaves you clinging onto Bakugo. You nod into the crook of Bakugo's neck in reply and Kirishima smiles from the other side of the couch.

The sound of the fridge opening is timelines away from what's entering your mind. Is it wrong that you like that cuddle too much? And is it even more wrong that you want more? Bakugo feels nice when you're curling up onto his lap and Kirishima adds warmth and love into everything he's touching, you almost feel your thighs clench at the idea of where your mind's traveling to.

"What if we had a threesome?"

It's so faint when it comes out of your mouth that you're convinced there shouldn't be any loud reaction to it, though you hear the can of beer that's presumably in Kirishima's hand hit the floor, you feel Katsuki's hand freeze on your back. Both of them wonder if they've heard correctly, but never asking you to repeat it.

"A uhm.. Threesome?" Kirishima asks "you'd like that?"

"Yes"

You try to hide your face deeper into Bakugo's neck, but he doesn't seem to approve of it- he pushes you back softly, with a thick hand on your stomach and another still on your back. You feel your face burning as you're forced to face him

"You'd really want a threesome?" You nod and Bakugo gulps "Right now?"

"Mhm" You gulp too, your nose almost nuzzling against his "if- if you want to"

The way you're swamped with attention is overwhelming. From the way Kirishima jumps to the edge of the couch towards you, to the way Bakugo lifts you up and stands on his feet, urging you to do the same as your feet land one by one on the carpet underneath you.

"Fuck okay uh, are you fine with it Bakugo?" The redhead asks, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am."

Kirishima gulps when he sees Bakugo latch onto you, placing his hand on your shoulder and coughing up slightly "Should we set some rules?"

"Yes" Bakugo coughs as well, though you can feel him getting hard to where your thoughts are meeting his "wanna suggest anything?"

"Great uh, maybe no kissing between the two of you, since she's my girlfriend? And Katsuki you're wearing a condom too. Are these fine?"

Both of you gulp and nod. It's natural for Kirishima to ask this. Sharing you out of the blue can't completely sit right with him; it almost flicks a switch on inside your gut, making you gulp again when you feel him hugging you from behind.

"Safeword?" Bakugo asks

"Red" You reply cooing when your back finally hits your boyfriend's chest.

You don't even have enough time to count down seconds before you're pounded and squished between the two of them. It's a miracle that you somehow manage to convince them to move it to the bedroom.

Even if making a small stop at the hall wasn't in your original plan

Kirishima's hands are everlastingly on your waist pulling your back into his chest. He's nibbling on the nape of your neck, his fingers light as feathers as they're peeling your T-shirt off of you. He almost grunts at your exposed back, leaning down just to place a kiss on each of your shoulders before latching onto your ear

"It's fine baby, it's fine if you're embarrassed okay?" He blows into you then takes a bite of your ear lobe to which you shiver as you snap your head to his face. “what? Are you that excited?"

You gulp, nodding with your eyes shutting, an expression on your face that looks almost painful -Bakugo can't help but palm himself, searching Kirishima's carmine eyes with his, waiting for a sign that he should make a move or retreat. Anything that doesn't involve him getting a front row seat to how your chest bounces as Kirishima runs his hands on your torso from behind.

"Fuck, I-" He says, swallowijg his tongue in the process, just when Kirishima's hands change paths, now wiggling underneath your sweatpants.

"Enjoying the show Bakugo?" Kirishima's smiles and fuck- when did he adopt such an attitude? "Come 'ere"

Bakugo does as he's commanded, guided by Kirishima, as he trails your torso with his hands intertwined with his, squeezing your upper hips, trailing your belly button, eyeing you with doe eyes before launching a kiss to your navel. You writhe and wiggle in Kirishima's embrace- the feeling of another man too new, too strange to take in in less than a few moments, but Eijiro's got you, kissing your nape, your cheek, softly playing with your breasts above your bralette. Whispering his praises with his hands across your body.

"Good girl" You're sure he whispers in your ear "I got you" But all you can feel is Katsuki's breath as he's placing open mouthed kisses across your tummy, over the valley of your chest, your cheek.

Kirishima is overly alert by this, jumping in between the little scene, capturing your lips with his, using a hand to push Bakugo into the kiss as well, pulling him in as lips as smeared against lips, your saliva trailing out of your mouth. You instinctively rub your thighs together to relieve some of the burning sensation between your legs

Soon enough, Bakugo is taking off your pants, rhen his shirt, Kirishima's taking his off too, managing not to let you go all while pushing the three of you into the bedroom. There's nothing but a trail of clothing in the hallway that could suggest what's happening inside the room once the door closes shut; three pairs of sweats, three different t-shirts and maybe the white ghost of hot and heavy breathing.

On the bed, it's way more comfortable. Your arching back is finally resting against the pillowy mattress, Kirishima's smile from upside down soothing and forgiving, you almost melt away while he cups your face and bumps his nose to yours, giggling slightly, before glaring at Bakugo. He guides your head into his lap, still holding your cheeks, still rubbing circles onto your soft face, pouting hard before facing your friend.

"You good babe?" He asks you and you nod again, humming a small reply to him "you too Katsuki?"

"Yeah, fuck yeah, I am" He gulps, pumping himself twice.

"You're not getting in without prep by the way"

You writhe in Kirishima's lap, gooey eyes and mouth open wide as he leans to pry your legs open, trailing his middle finger across your clothes slit. Your chest jumps when you hear him chuckle. You know he's struck the gold vein he's searching for, your panties swimming in a puddle, completely damp from getting your neck attacked only a few minutes ago.

Katsuki marvels a finger across your slit as well, avoiding your clit purposely or flicking it occasionally, moaning every time his finger touches the chilly dampness of your underwear.

Kirishima pries your legs open wider, hooking his middle finger under your panties and pulling them over and slightly to the side, flashing the blond with a glimpse of you -you swear you see him gulp. Hard.

"Want a taste?" Kirishima asks, chuckling, as if Bakugo isn't frothing at the mouth at the mention of the action, as if he isn't diving in between your thighs like a starved man.

He almost rips your panties by pulling them to the side. Your hands link through his platinum hair and you almost whine at how soft it feels, or, about the moaning sounds he makes as he's digging his fingers in the plush skin of your thigh, swinging your leg wider. You slide a little further along, laid completely flat on the bed -head still on Kirishima's lap.

Sweetly, Kirishima captures your inner lips with his fingers and circles them around before making you hump on him, his knuckles bumping with Bakugo's nose when he chuckles again. You almost tear up by the over stimulating pressure Kirishima's fingers provide for you, but you decide to hold it in; not sure hitched breath leaves your mouth until Bakugo takes an experimental lick across your slit.

With a thumb presses to your clit he retreats for a second, just to watch as he sinks his middle finger inside of you and -"oh my fucking god Katsuki"- he's back at it again, licking at you religiously. Softly, like Kirishima always does, patiently. Just like you love it.

It has your back arching, chest bouncing for Kirishima's eyes to enjoy. He decides he won't have you hanging, bouncing and thrashing. With two huge palms he cups your breasts, flicking your nipples, massaging you for just enough time to make your heart burn, then he wiggles a finger to the hood of your clit, applying throbbing pressure.

The knot in your stomach is tight, your vision blurry, you're sure what you think is silent moaning is probably full-on screaming, mewling or pleas of pleasure that you can't comprehend.

Kirishima is smiling at you from above, still wiggling his finger on you left and right in Bakugo's business and you can't help it- you yelp, pushing Bakugo's face deeper into you. It feels good- too good, like your legs are nothing but jello, your stomach and thighs feeling like they've transformed into liquid smooth. You mewl in Kirishima's arms, coiling, desperately eyeing him in hopes that he and Katsuki won't stop what they're doing.

"M so close" You slur when Kirishima takes a hand of yours away from Bakugo's hair, softly turning it upside down, until your palm is met with the wetness of his foreskin, the pulsing slit of his that leaks precum into your hand.

He whines -"ohh"- when you wrap your fingers around him, instantly pumping your hand up and down, your grip firm and steady as you twist your wrist with every bob of your hand.

"Suck me off baby" Kirishima softly commands, rubbing an experimental circle with his tip on your lips, smearing some of his precum around your mouth. You gulp at how carelessly he pumps his base, until he pries your lips open.

You take him eagerly into your mouth, feeling your stomach churn and your thighs freezing in place by Bakugos movements; so long as you're steadily sucking Kirishima's cock into your mouth, he scissors his fingers inside of you.

"You like that?" He moans into you, eyeing Kirishima "you twitched- fuck you're twitching"

"Show me how wet she is"

Kirishima commands and Bakugo complies by taking his fingers away from your heat and shining them into Kirishima's face. You whimper but how good it feels when he moans against you, blinking as you watch your boyfriend take your friend's fingers in his mouth, sucking in eagerly, before popping the digits out of his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva fall faintly onto the valley of your breasts

"Your pussy's s'wet baby, you're dripping all over over Katsuki's hands" Kirishima thrusts in your mouth "you taste so good" then turns his attention to Bakugo "tell 'er, how fucking good she tastes"

Bulky fingers rub on your clit once more and Bakugos hand secures your tummy in place while pinning you down; you feel it then, the inevitable end of what has been building up in your stomach for such a long while and you can't help but scream at the feeling of coming undone. Shaking, struggling to take a breath without popping Kirishima out of your mouth.

"Fucking perfect"

Your vision is white, your head is buzzing and your legs are frozen. You can feel Kirishima fucking into your mouth once, twice and ever so slightly, depending in how relaxed your jaw is as he's moaning. You don't choke when he hits your throat, you simply moan onto him, too blinded by the afterglow of your orgasm to even react to what's about to unfold.

"Fuck- take 'em off- Fuuck" Kirishima says, you notice. Bakugo probably does as he's told; you hear shuffling and grunting, the soft pop of his dick to his stomach. You want to see-

Bakugo, hazed and drenched in you, cups your womanhood with his hand, landing his thumb on your clit and you yelp again, thrassing onto the bed, finally popping Kirishima out of your mouth. He tugs and drags his fingers away- he's opening you up, of course, that's it- and you can't help but roam your eyes all over him. Searching for his cock, wanting to see it dive inevitably into you.

It's unfair that Kirishima has a better view than you do, but at least, you hope he enjoys the view. You buck your hips forward when you feel Katsukis thighs grace against your own. His skin is unbelievably cold, making the hair on your legs and tummy raise; a tear rolls down your cheek then the moment the tip of his cock touches your clit.

"We've got- ah- condoms in the first drawer. On your left" Kirishima says cheerfully, bucking his hips away from your face, kneeling just to place a kiss on your forehead- your nose- your lips, finally bumping the tip of his nose to yours when he sucks your inner lip into his mouth

"You liked that baby?" Kirishima breathes "You liked Bakugo eating you out?"

"Mhm" You nod, not wanting to break away from the kiss, unlike Kirishima

You can hear Katsuki cursing, slamming the drawer shut as he fidgets with the condom. Everything seems slow, from the way his thick fingers can't grasp the tiny edges of the wrapper, to him finding out what's the right side to put it on -he grunts, inevitably- stealing giggles from both you and Kirishima

"Ah man, you're struggling, come 'ere let me help"

Bakugo grunts once again, although this time it's not out of frustration. Kirishima playfully pulls him close, places a kiss on his navel and extends his hand underneath Bakugo's, politely asking for the condom -you know his lips are pressed into a goofy smiley line right now just by the way his body moves.

Kirishima lets your cheek rest on his thigh when he moves to grab Katsuki's cock, to roll the condom on him while twisting his fist on him no more than twice -unfair- before playfully slapping the blond's ass, urging him to climb onto the bed again.

It's then that your hips are jerked and raised towards the blond, huge palms on your hips, pulling you towards him. Nervous touches, unspoken apologies for potentially harsh movements, his eyes are flickering into yours and his lips are all pouty, scrunched, his cheeks plump with embarrassment. He doesn't know if you notice, nor does he think he ever will, but it's killing him -that he's only allowed to line himself up with you under this circumstance.

Whether you notice the hurt in his eyes or not, you don't comment on it, nor do you spare him any worried look. He doesn't even know if he wants you to take pity on this state of his.

No.

No, he doesn't.

He only hopes Kirishima won't get mad when he cups your face tenderly, nor when he traps your face with his other hand caging you away from the redhead thigh -it's for better leverage he'll say if he's asked to- but you melt into his touch.

And his chest burns.

It's worse when he finally pushes into you. His heart won't stop beating hard and fast and he's scared he's going to have a fall. No-no- he shouldn't think about it, if he does think about it, he'll definitely have a fall.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh," You murmur, feeling the voice come from the depths of your chest.

That's the only confirmation he needs to ignite his ego and light it on fire. You feel good, you're sucking him in deeper and your cheek is still melting into his palm. It's more than enough; he ignores Kirishima's gaze and whatever it may carry behind it. It's for his own sanity he reminds himself.

"You're doing so good babe,'' Kirishima asks you, cupping your other cheek. He's smiling- no need to worry about him not having a positive reaction to Bakugo caressing you

(The rules that had been presented to him were simple- wear a condom and no kissing)

"You're taking it so well, isn't she Katsuki?"

"Fuck yeah" He grunts, thrusting harder

"So, so well baby, we'll make sure you get to come first okay?" You ogle your eyes at Kirishima, teary and soft by his words, clapping your lips together and pouting, begging him silently for a kiss. Only to feel the void when his soft lips don't come in contact with yours

"Oh no, no kiss for baby. You're so naughty, wanting me to kiss you when you're getting fucked by our friend"

"What?" You whine, popping on to your left elbow "Eiji- i want my kiss"

"None can do" He smiles and Bakugo snaps his hips into you "unless you earn it"

Your stomach is tied in a knot again, gummy walls tightening around Bakugo, back arching. It's almost painful to watch you sprawled like this underneath him, reacting in peak with the rhythm of his hips, begging him to go faster, harder. At one point, he's losing himself in the speed he's fucking you with, feeling like he's about to combust from inside out is not helping either

-He thinks, he'll be spent for days after this-

It's guttural, the way you feel as Bakugo thrusts inside of you, the way you mewl and twitch and feel your eyes roll to the back of your head. You feel full, so much that you mutter it, slurred and incomprehensibly at Kirishima. It's more than enough for him to rub your chin with his thumb and buck his hips on your face again. You take him eagerly, smiling with your lips when he lands on your tongue. You swirl it around, pump him deeper into your mouth, suck on his tip until he moans in sync with you.

"Bakugoo" He hisses, biting his lip as he's eyeing you "don't chase your own satisfaction! Go slower and rub her clit too" He takes Bakugos hand away from your face, tracing it down your body before landing on your heat, pinching your clit softly making you moan "ah so responsive"

For a while he doesn't move his hand away, focused on guiding Bakugo's fingers on you, teaching him how to make you feel good while he's fucking and you're on fire, gut churning and chest tight, ovestimulated by how good it all feels. You can't even take a proper breath as Kirishima humps deeper into your mouth. He groans too loud when his tip hits your cheek.

You know this is too much for him, you know he can't hold back any longer, but you grab onto his shaft and twirl your grin on his base, bobbing it into your cheek and popping it out before swallowing it again.

And while Bakugo's thrusts are becoming desperate, Kirishima bursts into your mouth, holding your hair softly, pulling you closer to you- closer, closer, until your nose hits his navel, biting on his cheeks and squinting his eyes so he won't shut them, drunk on the view of you overflowing with his come. He only grubs your chin, swiping his thumb on the white trail that's spilling from the corner of your lips, trying his best to smirk at you without taking a breath.

"Swallow it sweetheart -ah- that's right, you're so -fuck- perfect for me"

Your lower stomach is protesting, bursting slowly as Bakugo is thrusting faster into you. His speed, him hitting that spot in your gut repeatedly, creating the perfect feeling of numbness, it's all too much and not enough all at once, you want to cry out- you gush and you writhe as your legs hook around Bakugo's waist.

Your boyfriend retreats from his previous position, smiling as ever, petting Bakugo's blonde hair, massaging your breast, kissing your nipple, then attacking your upper chest, trapping supple skin in between his tongue and teeth, dragging Bakugo along with him. It's what ultimately leads Bakugo over the edge, his tip feeling numb, blood rushing all over his body, he thrusts a few more times before he pulls out, spilling his own satisfaction into the condom, feeling his heart race faster than ever before.

"Your doing sooo good" Kirishima says once more, pecking your lips repeatedly. "Wanna ride me? Or are you tired? "

"Fuck no, lay down"

"That's my girl" He smiles "Katsuki, come here"

Kirishima rubs your wetness up and down, grunting when he finds your clit, grazing it with the back of his hand, whispering about how wet you are, to which you respond by hugging your arms around his neck, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You only pull back when he lets you coo into him by petting your hair softly.

You're instantly met with Bakugo's eyes blazing into yours from above- it's not intimidating, rather, it's lustful, but you still need some time to pull yourself back, despite the eagerness in his eyes. You must have missed the point where he discarded his condom, or just how thick he actually is, because he's standing hard and proud before you, nervously searching for Kirishima's approval.

Your boyfriend's approval comes with gripping on him and easing him close to you. You take him in both of your hands, relying on Kirishima to keep your torso lifted, focusing on twisting your hand around him in the same way you did for Eijiro. Too bad you almost lose grip when He snaps his hips into you.

You can feel Katsuki's dick twitch into your hands as you pull him down lower, getting your tongue out of your mouth to place kitten lips all over his length. Eijiro mimics you, licking the tip when you're not licking the base, letting you take control when he ceases his movements for a bit, to lift both of you a little higher, so you don't have to bend your neck as much. He strokes some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he kisses your cheek and Bakugo is already thrusting into your mouth feverously.

"Fuck"

"You're so wet baby, you feel like you could take us both" You yelp, wide eyes as you freeze on the spot "want to take us both?"

"I do" You yelp with tears in your eyes "I do I do, I do I do"

"Oh, look at you being so desperate, want to get -ah- wrecked, don't you?"

"I do Eiji- you cry out

"Then ask Katsuki to take you too, ask him to shove his cock into you while I'm fucking you too, like the greedy little thing you are"

At this point, you think poor Bakugo isn't going to make it to the end of this.

"Katsu" You plead, watery eyes staring into desperate carmine ones "Katsu fuck me while Eiji fucking me too-"

"Say please" Kirishima interrupts, pinching your nipple "or I'm not going to let him"

"Please, pleaseplease, please"

"Fuck yeah" Katsuki replies "ill fucking wreck you" The sounds he's making are supposed to be words, though they're far from being clear and understandable, his veins are pulsing into your mouth. He's too excited for this, so excited that you know he'll never make it to the drawer to reach for a new condom. So Kirishima is doing it for him, hooking the little rubber between his fingers as he's opening the drawer.

"Come on baby, pull back" He taps on your shoulder and places a kiss on your collar bone, thrusting deeper into you this time. The reaction is immediate, you're throwing your head back in seconds and Bakugo whines at the sudden departure of your warm mouth.

Kirishima allows you to kiss his thighs, his tip, his navel, to squeeze the small of his back and his ass before letting you wear the condom onto him.

You lose track of Bakugo until you feel wet kisses being planted on your thighs and ass, the back of your knees. You feel his hand being placed on your thigh, the warmth of his palm as he's soothingly rubbing it up and down your skin, to prepare you, raising his thumb to graze at your crotch occasionally. You whine every time he thumbs your clit, or flicks it when it meets with Kirishima's navel.

"You good? I'll start with my fingers" You choke on the sound of his words and nod frantically. If only you could actually watch him when he delves his middle finger in you along with Eijiro's cock. Still you whine loudly, when another finger joins the first one, slowly scissoring inside of you "fuck you're gonna take it so well aren't you? Kirishima's right. You love this"

"Answer him," Kirishima whispers, teeth biting down in your lobe. He grabs your face, trapping your cheeks between his fingers, turning you in Katsuki's direction, pushing your cheeks together. You swallow when you see the blind focused on watching you stretch.

"I love it

But Eijiro isn't satisfied with how you're trying to make your words get past from your lips

"Say it like you mean it doll, or I won't let your friend put it in"

You eye him dangerously, putting your lips even further before muttering a soft 'fine' -your redhead doesn't make a comment on your little attitude, probably because he's gotten what he's wanted from you- and Katsuki hisses, fisting his cock faster.

"I love it so much Katsuh"

"And Eiji- you mean. It's not only him that's here" Kirishima smirks and this time he pulls out of you, flipping your body so that your back is facing him. One hand comes to your wetness, spreading your lips apart, stretching you wide open "Try again" He lets go just for a moment, to slap your clit loosely. Once. Twice. Never ceasing when you whine. Your hips buck up towards Katsuki.

"Look at how nice I am, I even gave you a full view. Am I not?"

"You are Eiji. You're the best, the best. And I love this so much, I'm going to combust"

"Oh you will?" Katsuki interrupts, grunting when Kirishima pulls his dick closer to you, rubbing the head on your clit until Katsuki gets the hint. You let out a guttural groan at the feeling, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes from being too overstimulated for so long

"Yes baby, I will, just please"

"M going in-" Katsuki announces, earning a nod from Kirishima "If he won't let you come, then we don't listen to him 'kay?"

Kirishima chuckles at the one and bites the top of your ears dragging his tongue to the base of it- a warning- to not try and agree with what Katsuki's offering. And being obedient definitely pays off when you feel your boyfriend's head poke against your entrance.

It feels splitting and painful all at once; the tears in your eyes are pouring, and none of the caresses you're receiving is helping. You need time to adjust and both men provide that for you. Minutes pass spent with soft kisses. Kirishima sucking your neck and Bakugo kissing your breasts, the three of you making out- anything until you feel like you can get used to them.

And when you do, they go slow, each at their own pace, simultaneously hitting spots that you don't know could or should ever be hit at the same time.

"You good?" Both men ask and you have to gulp that frog that sits at the top of your mouth if you want to talk, but you can't. Your throat is too tight, your eyes are too watery

"Babe"

"Better than I thought I'd be actually"

You get lost in the haze of their hips, their thrusts and you can already feel Katsuki collapsing onto you, chasing his own pit of pleasure when it hits you. Your gut coming undone for the last time has your heart leaping and skipping beats; you hook your arm around Katsuki's neck, jumping up and down from how fast both men are thrusting into you and you bring your face to his, cooling your mouths together.

When he feels you clamp down on him -and Kirishima- he pulls out, rolls the condom off and strokes himself slightly. You whine at the sudden departure of him inside of you but you quickly clamp down on just your boyfriend, before feeling him shifting from underneath you, finally pushing down the small of your back. You take Katsuki into your mouth while Kirishima slaps your ass, thrusting fast and hard into you.

There's no sweet talk right now, authority and intimidation hiding away as satisfaction is being chased. Sloppily and not carefully at all. It's evident in how you're sucking Katsuki off. There's no consistency in your rhythm, you're squirming as Kirishima is slowing down before picking up his pace again, running his hands through your hair affectionately. When he comes, he coats your insides in white ropes of pleasure, riding off his orgasm softly, until he feels himself stop twitching.

By the time he pulls out you've made Katsuki come as well, hearing his high pitched grunts as he lets it all out in your mouth. Although this time you're not overwhelmed with the amount; it's his second round nonetheless.

Katsuki's hands don't cease to take this chance, even if they're awkward and shaking he's grabbing your cheeks squishing them just like Kirishima did a while ago and kisses you, poking his tongue in your mouth, moaning at his own taste, pulling your lips under his teeth.

You know your lips will be bruised by this. And you don't care. Because when he pulls back, Kirishima is kissing you as well, pulling you into his arms, caging you into his chest.

You even smile as tiny, peppery kisses are pressed onto your skin.

"You did so well" Kirishima smiles "you too Katsu, you both were amazing"

Katsuki smiles, popping onto the bed as well, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling himself onto you and Kirishima. He nuzzles his nose at the crook of your neck and for the first time in a while he feels warm, content, calm and collected. Or so you think by the kiss that's planted onto your back by him.

It's tender and soft, mimicking Kirishima's but feeling nothing like your boyfriend's kisses at the same time. You collapse further into Kirishima's chest and he kisses the top of your hair and your cheek, mellowy.

"Wanna take a bath?" He suggests under his breath and both you and Katsuki nod, sinking further in the sheets with heavy eyes. Maybe when your feet won't feel like they'll betray you, you'll get up and have a warm bath, sandwiched between Katsuki and Eijiro, smothered in kisses, lathered in lavender soap, maybe you'll make a cup of chamomile for the three of of you and cuddle between them before you go to sleep.

Until then…

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