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pi5c3s · 1 year

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I posted 13 times in 2022

That's 13 more posts than 2021!

10 posts created (77%)

3 posts reblogged (23%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@funnytwittertweets

@hatchetation

@theycantalk

I tagged 10 of my posts in 2022

Only 23% of my posts had no tags

#ncis hawaii - 10 posts

#kate whistler - 10 posts

#kate x lucy - 9 posts

#kacy - 9 posts

#lucy tara - 5 posts

#ernie malik - 3 posts

#raw - 2 posts

#kai holman - 1 post

#jesse boone - 1 post

#jane tennant - 1 post

Longest Tag: 23 characters

#white shirt never fails

My Top Posts in 2022:

already 😔

72 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

uncle ernie 🧙‍♂️

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90 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

back and forth

See the full post

90 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

😄😄😄😄

See the full post

99 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

white'sler

See the full post

118 notes - Posted December 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#greenie :P #lucky number 13 #tumblr2022 #year in review #my little ○

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greenlikethesea · 1 month

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listen, new york state government, i understand that you need to know a lot of shit about me so i can change my name legally, but do you really need to know this much shit? can you get off my case?

it's bad enough that you want $65 for me to drop off the papers i already pay a notary to sign (at least i think that's how notaries work???) and then i gotta pay other places to change my name over and so goes the hamster wheel

#changing my name from pinky to greenie #it's official :P #greenie core

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orangetintedglasses · 11 months

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( about to answer an ask but I have no where else to talk about this: man the Lies of P demo is pretty solid. it's a bloodborne clone to it's fullest but man if a Soulsborne game based off Pinocchio doesn't supremely have me invested already-- the demo even lets you fight the first 3 bosses???

unfortunately I am fuckin terrible at Soulsborne games so I haven't even gotten past the first one )

#( it's cool! also another waif-y protag with a left arm prosthetic at the bicep? sign me up )#( mechanical automaton puppets and circus-y shit at the beginning yes please )#( the lies of p prosthetic is actually the inspo for Greenie's hand/finger joints for his new arm! )#curtains down ✧〗( ooc )

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desues-randomness · 5 days

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Luigi’s Mansion Ghost Head-cannons PT11 - Some Sub-Types

Some ghost types can have Sub-types, these are all the ones I have recorded so far. There might be even more sub-types that are yet to be discovered! What makes a sub-type, well a Sub-type is two categories,

1, Appearances are different from main type, this can range from color, shape, size and more, though it has to still be similar enough to the main type that they can be classified as a sub-type. 2, Behavior, they have to have a different behavior then the main type, this can range from slight differences to major differences depending on how different the appearance is to the main-type.

The ghost types shown here so far are The Greenies with the Sub-type being the Gold Greenies, the Creepers with the Sub-type being the winged Shadow Creepers, the Slammers with the Sub-type being the Hammers, the Poltergeists with the Sub-type being the Ancient Poltergeists, and the Portrait Ghosts with the Sub-type being the Valley Portraits.

Gold Greenies are golden Greenies who seem to be much more shy and scared of things.

Shadow Creepers will get their own entry.

Same with Hammers as I need to do further research on them.

Ancient Poltergeists are blue and seem to have more powers then the main-type, quite odd, I should do further research on this later.

Valley Portraits are rather different looking from regular portrait Ghosts, maybe this is due to the power of the Dark Moon, as much as I want to look into this and find out the cause of why these Portrait Ghosts look different in Evershade compared to everywhere else, that would mean killing people and that’s kinda really wrong, so I have to find another way to research this that is ethical.

#luigi's mansion #luigi’s mansion dark moon #headcanon #greenie #creeper #S #slammer #p #poltergeist #portrait #portrait ghost #hammer #I kinda went a wee bit crazy on this one but I didn’t show all because Percy hasn’t seen a lot of these ghosts #I mainly did this whole sub-type thing just to explain why the Three Sisters from Dark Moon look so different from other “Human” ghosts #Percy cares about ethics first research second

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greenunoreversecard · 2 months

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OMG HI?! I HAD NO CLUE YOU TOOK REQUESTS AND WROTE FICS?? IM HERE FOR A REQUEST GREENY !!

anyway, my request is for husk x optimist!reader, like the reader is this person who tries to see the light in all the crappy situations hell throws at them and eventually just can’t take it anymore and goes down to husk’s bar and gets a drink (which is a rare occurrence for reader) and then just starts rambling on about how life is just awful for them and that it’s just so hard for them to push through and act like everything’s just fine and dandy? and husk helps em thru it and carries em to bed? :)

gn! or fem! reader is fine for this, whatever you want!! feel free to take some creative liberties with this haha i trust you!!

i can’t wait to see it!!

— mio 💕

jsjdowid I do!!! I also try and request on others pages to help spread the love :p

The Healers Broken Heart

->Husk x Gn! Reader

Youve always been know to rival Charlie's pep and optimism.

But it seems today just wasn't in your favor, was it?

Maybe it was sleeping through your alarm. Maybe it was seeing someone you'd rather leave in the past. Maybe it was the date itself. The reasoning isn't to important as you make your way through the doors of the hotel and beeline for the bar.

"Instead of a drink can you just hand me the fullest bottle of pink Whitney you have?"

Husk raises his eyebrow at you, before letting out a low whistle.

"Damn. Shit day?"

"Something like that."

"Well, angel drank the last of theWhitney, but i got everclear, and a couple flavored vodkas and some whiskeys, if any of those suit your fancy?" His voice low and gruff as he quietly lists the available alcohols.

"Fuck it, gimme the everclear"

He whistles lightly again, turning from the glass he was cleaning to the display behind him, grabbing the unopened bottle of everlcear and setting it in front of you.

He watches as you screw of the cap, and throw it back, chugging a good amount of the alcohol, unflinching.

"I was gunna ask if you want a chaser with that, but by the looks of it you don't." He pauses a moment, eyebrows still raised in shock as he watched you drink like a alchoholic of 30 years, before remembering himself and going back to the blank slate he normally keeps his face at.

"Wanna talk about it?" He treds carefully. But this question seems to hit the dam holding back the floodgates of emotions, and tears lightly prick you eyes so you take another large swig.

"Life fucking sucks, everything fucking sucks and I don't want to deal with it anymore." You go to take a third large swig, before his hands stop you.

"Maybe wait. Everclears stronger than a muthafucka, so give it a minute to set in, and then decide if you need more." He says, prying the bottle from your iron grip. "And when your ready, elaborate."

And so, after a moment, when you feel it start to set in, you do. You tell him all of your woes. Tears start streaming, at some point.

And at some point, Husk crossed the island between you two, and brought you head to his chest, gently stroking your hair and listening. Listening and caring. That's not something your particularly used to, So to speak.

And at some point, in your now drunken stupor. He dries your tears, assurance pouring from his lips like a waterfall, as he carries you up the stairs, and towards your room, setting you gently on the bed and helping you when you ask to change from jeans to sweat, always remaining ever the gentleman. He sets advil and a glass of water on your nightstand, before standing in front of where you lay, bleary eyed and lightly kisses your forehead.

And as you fall asleep, you realise. That maybe, just maybe, its ok to not be ok.

And maybe it's OK to cross some professional lines with the bartender.

Because in the end, you won't want have anyone but husk listen to you and care for you, and Carry you home.

Even the healers need to be healed.

----

A/N ending note: Hope this was OK, and hoped you liked it!! Thank you for requesting, i really liked it and enjoyed writting it<333 sorry if its short fiejfjks

#no beta we die like jason todd #greeny's inbox #Hazbin hotel x reader #Husk x reader #husk x you #husk x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #Request

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mochie85 · 1 year

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Smut prompts “Show me how much you need me.” and “Hands behind your back.” Please for my baby Bucky ❤️ Love youuuu and thank youuuu

Brut Gold - Chapter 2 Rosaline & Bucky

1K Celebration Masterlist Brut Gold Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Of all the clubs to go to for your Bachelorette Party, you had to go to Thor's, your former lover. But you didn't know it was his, and when Bucky finds out, he tries to make you forget about him completely. Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Female Reader/OFC Word Count: Over 3.5K Warnings: Mentions of killing, language Steve Rogers wouldn't approve of, jealous Bucky (let's face it, that's a warning), praise and degradation kink, oral, P in V, rough sex. A/N: I want to thank @springdandelixn for this request and for being so patient with me while I write this. And I want to thank both her and @michelleleewise for being my BETA reader on it. Also, I'd like to thank @thalzr for helping me with some of the Romanian translations. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Dugan walked down the hall toward James’ office. The classic Rococo furniture contrasted with what the newer generation of the family preferred. But they would never change it. Because what the Barnes family loved more than their outdated furniture was tradition.

They were immutable. The habit of the institution was ingrained into them as young as five years old. For James “Bucky” Barnes- probably younger because he was set to inherit the family business.

Dugan walked in as a lifeless body was being dragged out. The face was unrecognizable as the only feature standing out was a backward initial ‘J.B.’ imprinted on the man’s cheek.

Steve nodded as he saw Dugan approach. He held out his hands towards him in greeting. “Dugan, how are you, my man? Or should I still call you DumDum?” Steve chuckled.

James was watching through the window’s reflection as smoke from his cigar blew out from his thin lips. His other hand, adorned with bloodied rings, nursed a half-filled glass of bourbon.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, Rogers? I was four!” Bucky said talking to Steve’s reflection.

“And you’ve been calling him that ever since.” Dugan smiled wearily as he took Steve’s hand and greeted him. He didn’t want to end up like the faceless man that was dragged out moments before.

“Why are you here?” Bucky asked him suspiciously. “You were supposed to be watching the bachelorette party.” He turned around, looking straight at Dugan.

“Bucky, you’re not gonna like this,” Dugan answered, looking sideways at Steve.

“Where’s my fiancé, Dugan?” James asked level toned. Dugan took a moment to decide which information he should start with first. “WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky yelled and Dugan flinched.

“She went into Odinson territory. Got into one of his clubs. I could only watch from the border. I left Junior behind to watch and inform me when she and her friends come out.”

“You left the protection of floricica mea to a greenie? WHY WAS SHE EVEN FUCKING THERE?!”

“Buck, I’m sorry. I tried…” Dugan started. Bucky grabbed his collar and pushed him up against the wall.

“And if something happens to her, Dugan? If she gets kidnapped? What happens? Will you be sorry then too?” Bucky let go of his shirt. “Go back and tell me as soon as she comes out. Grab the entire party and send them home. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, boss,”

“Bring Rose and Lia here!”

“Yes, boss,” Dugan quickly accepted his command and left. Bucky was seething. He knew of your history with the older Odinson brother. Why the fuck would you go there?

“Buck, I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Steve tried to placate him. “Maybe she didn’t know.”

Bucky contemplated, then sighed. “No. That’s bullshit. She knows the boundaries, at least.” He downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed it on his desk reaching for the decanter. Steve watched him from the corners of his eyes as he sipped his drink slowly. He knew Bucky could be temperamental…at best. You were an angel for having fallen in love with him.

“Buck, she’s madly in love with you. YOU! You crazy, fucked-up psycho. She’s a saint for doing so. And for all you know, it could’ve been Lia who suggested it. She wouldn’t know where the borders are.”

“Lia can be rebellious,” Bucky noted.

“She’s naïve. Which in our line of work, can be dangerous.” Steve answered back.

“She didn’t grow up in the life.”

“Does she know? That you’re…about your family business?” Steve waved his fingers around.

“If she doesn’t, I think she suspects. She’s smart. Or Rose told her. They tell each other everything.”

“That whole family has brains. How’d you manage to snag Strange’s daughter anyway?” Steve asked finishing his drink. “Does that mean The Hospital isn’t neutral anymore?”

“Strange won’t let me anywhere near The Hospital unless I’m on my deathbed.”

“Hmm.” Steve nodded, knowing he wouldn’t get any more info other than that from his long-time friend.

You stepped out into the cold evening air, a slight breeze chilling the night. Bucky was not gonna like this. If you learned anything by now, you knew that Dugan had sent word to him that your bachelorette party wandered into Odinson territory and that he would be furious.

You didn’t know this was one of Thor’s clubs. You just followed your bridesmaid’s lead, talking about a brand-new spot that was trending. The lot of you had gone from one bar to another. Always within James’s borders of protection. You tried to steer the party back, but your cousin, Lia wanted to see it. Lord knows you can’t say no to her and her damn puppy eyes.

You thought it would be ok, one quick drink and lay low so you don’t gather attention. It wasn’t until you saw Lia kissing Loki Odinson, of all people, that you realized you were going to be in trouble.

You walked out onto the breezy summer night and before Lia could step foot on the concrete, Junior had already come up to you and your friends.

“Ma’am,” was all he said.

“He’s not happy, isn’t he?” you asked quietly.

“No, he’s not,” Dugan answered from behind Junior. ��He’s furious.”

“I’m sorry Duggy. I didn’t know,” you said out of earshot from your friends. You were the only one who could call him that and make it sound endearing. You tried to channel Lia and gave him your sweetest puppy-eyed face.

“Well maybe you can get away with that, but I can’t. C’mon, he wants you guys to end the night,” Dugan ordered, motioning you guys back to two large SUV’s waiting on the curb.

In all honesty, you were glad that the night was ending. Aside from Lia, everyone there just tolerated you. They were there because your fiancé was “Bucky” Barnes and wanted to make advantageous connections with his future wife. They weren’t there for you.

After dropping the two of you off at Bucky’s house, Dugan set off to drop off the rest of your bachelorette party. Holding your hand, Lia followed you down the hall into James’ grand office. She gave your hand a heartfelt squeeze. Making sure you were all right.

“I’m sorry, Rose. Did I get us in trouble?”

“No. No, it’s all right,” you squeezed her hand back. “Even if Bucky is mad, what’s he gonna do? We didn’t do anything wrong.” You put on a brave face. You knew what kind of temper he had. It was never directed at you, but you’ve heard the cries of the men that have wronged him. He tried to shield you the best he could, but you were around it all your life. Especially since your father was the neutral doctor for all the families.

The scent of fresh cedar and tobacco hit your senses as soon as you entered his office. You froze for a half second. A habit you did involuntarily whenever you saw James. Not because you were frightened, but because his presence, his undeniable charisma always made you pause.

Lia walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek. She held his hand and whispered, not too quietly, “Be nice. Or I’ll have to hurt you!”

“I’m always nice!” Bucky played offended. “C’mon. Have I ever not been nice?” he lovingly touched her nose with the tip of his finger and Lia giggled. You were so happy that they got along. Lia was hesitant about him at first, but she saw how you looked at him with love and devotion in your eyes. She saw how happy you were and how much you were yourself whenever you were around Bucky.

Most importantly, she saw how completely and madly in love Bucky was with you. How he would move heaven and earth for you to be happy. That was what won her over.

“Rogers, why don’t you take Lia here for a walk in the gardens? I need to speak to my future wife,” James calmly ordered. Both Steve and Lia looked at you. Worry and wistful glee warring on their faces. Steve held out his arms and Lia took them. Their footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors as they left the room.

A quietly charged moment went by, and all James had done was stare at you. The deep-set brows on his face downturned in anger. Or worry? Neither was good when it came to Bucky.

You crossed the small space in between you and placed your hands on his chest. He lifted his head and looked down at you. His devastating features only got more handsome as he tried to be indifferent and stoic. His jaw was set, his nose flared and his eyes narrowed at the innocent cherubic features you were trying to portray.

His fingers grabbed your chin gently and forced you to look into his eyes. “Of all the places, Roza, why his?!” You heard his deep Romanian accent come forth. A shiver ran down your body, making your stomach curl in desire. His accent was only obvious when he felt a deep emotion. You recounted all the times that voice came out in the throws of passion as he took you over and over again.

“I didn’t know, Bucky. Honestly. I was just following the girls. They wanted to try out a new place. Some place they hadn’t been before, and I was just catching up with Lia. I didn’t notice that we had gone into Odinson territory. Or that Dugan had stopped following us.” You caressed your hands up and down his chest.

“HIS PLACE, ROSE?! Of all the clubs it was his place!” he held on to your hands and stopped your caress.

“Bucky! It’s over. You know that it is. He never loved me. Not like you!”

“Oh, don’t start comparing me to that bastard!” he let go of your hands and moved away in anger.

“It’s true!” you yelled out. “I was just something to pass the time for him. I…”

“Do you think that makes me feel any better?”

“Let me finish!” You stomped your foot. Bucky picked up his glass of whiskey and threw it against the wall from your opposite direction. You didn’t let it faze you as you slowly walked over to him. His anger dissipated with your every step. “He didn’t mean anything to me either Bucky. He was a tool. To anger my father. But you…you are the love of my life. The one I chose to spend the rest of my life with. I hadn’t even thought about him until tonight when I found out where we were.” You said placing your hands in soothing circles over his chest.

“Did you see him tonight?” he snarled.

“No.” You answered looking into his eyes so he would know you weren’t lying.

“Did he see you?”

“I honestly don’t know. I was too busy dancing with Lia.” You tried to give him your best apologetic face. You peppered small kisses onto his cheek and made your way to his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, wanting him to open up and kiss you back. “What can I do to prove to you that I love you, dragostea meu, my love?”

Bucky stood there stubborn, yet slowly losing his resolve. Your soft lips on any part of his skin always excited him. “No one makes me weak like you do,” he said grabbing your waist. “Or so fucking angry!” James growled at the last word.

He pushed you up against his desk. The familiar cold mahogany sends chills up your skin as he picks you up by your waist and sits you down. He pulls up his chair and sits. He lounges in it with a slight swivel as his eyes travel the length of your body. He spreads his legs, showcasing the hard bulge he’s been trying to conceal.

“James, I really am sorry…”

“Shh. Spread them for me, sweetheart. One leg on each armrest,” he commanded as he scoots closer. You quietly and slowly open your legs and lean back as you placed your strappy heels on the armrest of his chair. The hem of your dress rides further up your waist and you almost whimper from his stare. That hungry look in his eyes, as if he found something he would kill for. Something he would die for.

“You’re so beautiful spread out for me like this Roza. Ready and willing.” He traced his fingers on the outside of your calves. His warm lips pushed against your supple thighs, slowly inching closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

“Tell me, Roza, did he ever worship you like this?” his nose grazed against the hood of your clit, sending shivers throughout your body. His tongue traced the seam of your panties and made you open wider. “Answer me, sweetheart.” He grabbed you and pulled you closer to his face. He looked up at you, but your head was thrown back in ecstasy, savoring him between your legs.

“N-no. Never,” you gasped as his mouth latched on to your sensitive nub. The thin fabric of your panties stopped his tongue from entering further. You pushed yourself closer to him. But he held you still, teasing you, knowing you wanted more.

“Mmm. This little number you have on is beautiful. Did I buy this for you?” you shook your head no. He traced his fingers on the gusset of your panties and pulled to a snap. You yelped in slight shock, more than pain. “Hmm. And these shoes?” Bucky asked as his hands pulled your panties off and traveled the length of your legs down to your ankles.

“I bought them, baby.” You answered. Bucky stood up slowly and leaned over you on the desk. He trapped you in between his muscular frame as he looked down at your lips. He kissed you fervidly. All teeth and tongue, leaving you gasping for air. His lips roamed down to your collar, and he bit the chain hanging on your neck.

“And this? Who bought this?” he said licking the bruise he just made.

“I did.” You answered. “I bought it for myself.”

“So you don’t need anyone, do you floricica mea? You certainly don’t need that low-life prick who couldn’t even bother to get on his knees and worship you like the goddess you are.” His head dipped lower, trailing his tongue in between your breasts. “Which means you don’t need me either, do you?”

“No, I don’t need you.” You whispered. Bucky paused and stared deep into your eyes. He started pulling away, but you grabbed his face between your hands and pulled it back up to yours. “I don’t need you. Or your money.” You brushed your lips against his. “But I want you. I want you Bucky Barnes! In every way and in every chance I get.” You kissed him, sucking on his top lip, as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

You reached for his belt, undoing the fastening and making quick work of his zipper. Your hand brushed up against his hard length, feeling him throb through his boxers. Your mouth salivated at the thought of his arousal.

“Do you see what you do to me, Roza?”

“Oh, Bucky…” you whimpered as you pushed him back down to his office chair. He grunted when he hit the cushion and you swiftly placed yourself in between his legs. He stared up at you with ravenous eyes, licking his lips as he watched you lower yourself onto your knees. “Let me prove to you how much I want you.”

Bucky leaned forward to capture your lips. Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt one by one tracing the hard muscle underneath. You dipped your fingers under the hem of his boxers and pulled them down, his large erection springing free from the tight confines of his pants. He groaned as you fisted him, your fingers barely closing around his large girth.

You licked the tip, tasting him. “Fuck,” he growled as his head rolled back. You continued to give him small licks, kissing and sucking down the length of his cock. Your hand moved to a rhythmic pace as you softly bit the base of his shaft, sending bolts of pleasure up his spine. You licked your way back up to the end and swallowed his tip. You could see his knuckles clenched and white on the armrest of the chair.

“Don’t tease me now. Show me how much you need me. How much you want me.” He said, one hand holding the side of your face. You moaned, opening your mouth wider and sticking your tongue out further. You took him in slowly. Inch by inch until his cock hit the back of your throat. “Look at me while you suck my cock.”

You looked up to see his gorgeous face curled in pleasure. Your eyes watering as he slowly pushed deeper into your throat making you gag. He pulled out slowly, savoring your lips around his girth. “Fuck,” he panted as he saw himself coated in your saliva. “That’s a good girl.” He thrust back into your mouth. “A good fuckin’ girl.”

You continued to bob your head up and down. Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth. All you could hear was the gulp and swallow of your mouth mixed with Bucky’s shameless, feral moans. Even after holding the base of his cock, he felt heavy in your mouth as you dragged him faster and faster through your lips.

“St-stop,” he whimpered into the air. But you kept going. “Stop, Rose.” But you couldn’t. He chuckled at your eagerness. With one hand on your head, he pulled you off his hard cock as it bounced back toward his stomach. “Naughty little Roza” He smiled as he pulled your hair up to look at him. “I didn’t know I was going to marry such a slut.”

His words sent a chill throughout your body. He always danced that fine line between praise and degradation that always made you weak. “Bucky,” you whined.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. You need my cock inside you, don’t you?” You nodded as you turned your head licking his wrist that was holding your hair. “Stand by my desk and bend over for me. Hands behind your back.” He commanded.

You quickly complied, moving to stand by his desk and bend over it. You spread your legs apart putting most of your weight on the desk. The cold mahogany felt like ice against your heated face. You placed your hands behind your back and slowly pulled your dress up, showing him your dripping cunt. You heard the sound of his buckle as he stood. “You’re such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” Bucky slid two of his fingers through your folds, teasing you.

“Only for you, Bucky.”

“Only for me,’ she says.” There was an edge to his voice that made you nervous.

“Only you.” You repeated.

“Oh, floricica mea, you have no idea what I would do for you.” He spanked your ass, causing you to cry out in shock. He grabbed both of your wrists in one of his hands and secured them on your back. With his other hand, he lined up his cock at your entrance.

“You have no idea what I would do to anyone who ever touched you,” he slammed into your heated core making both of you cry out at the same time. Bucky bent over you, his hot breath tickling your ear as he said, “You are mine, Rosaline,” he growled. “MINE. I’m gonna make sure you forget that he ever existed.” He slammed further against you making you scream. A gargled plea between pain and pleasure.

Bucky stood back up and began thrusting his hips inside you. “…Ohfuck…God Bucky!...”

“That’s it, baby girl, say my name.”

“…B-bu…” you panted. With every thrust, every push, you felt the weight of his large cock pressing inside you. “…bucky…youfeelsogood…so good baby…” He took you hard and rough, keeping your chest pressed down onto the desk.

“You like that, sweetheart? You like my hard cock inside that tight pussy of yours?” he asked out of breath. You nodded your head, unable to make any coherent words other than grunts and moans. “Then say my name,” he growled.

“Bucky! yesyesyes…oh!Bucky…” You screamed over and over again. Every thrust had you yelling his name until it was the only thing you could say. Your legs started shaking. He could feel you squeeze him hard, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Give it to me baby. Come all over my cock.” And with his words, you screamed out the pleasure that he built up in your body. Bucky grunted as he stilled inside you. “Squeeze me harder, baby.” And somehow you obeyed as incoherent as you were.

When Bucky finished inside you, he pulled out slowly, watching his spent drip down your thighs. “Can you walk baby girl?” he said massaging your shoulders as you stood up slowly. You had a dazed look in your eyes as you shook your head. He picked you up bridal style and carried you down the hall to your bedroom. You giggled and made small love bites on his neck. “Just as well. I’m not finished with you yet.”

⬅️Brut Gold: Chapter 1 | Brut Gold: Chapter 3 (Coming Soon)➡️

A/N: This is part of my 1K Follower Celebration and also part of @the-slumberparty April Challenge: Mob AU.

🏷️ @emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappinesss @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @splendidreads

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dcangel · 7 months

Note

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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corie-is-writing · 9 months

Text

↳ ❝ [S Y N P O S I S] ¡! ❞

Y/n L/n, a simple minded reader, is one of the biggest fans of a popular web novel, Twisted wonderland. In their shock after finding out it has ended, they froze in the middle of a busy street and got hit by a truck.

Dizzy and confused, they have awoken in a coffin in the world they adore so much, and must use their knowledge to survive and stop the boys from overblotting.

↳ ❝ [M A S T E R L I S T] ¡! ❞

↳ ❝ [THE CRIMSON TYRANT] ¡! ❞

˗ˏˋ The lion’s tail ´ˎ˗

The sweet scent of pollen mixed with a foul, almost rotten scent tickled your nose as you sneezed. Eyes a bit watery as the lush and blooming sight of herbs and shrubs blends in with the trees and bushes of the woods.

“Geuh…So many flowers.” You sneeze again.

Shortly after that joke you pulled, Trey had told you and your friends that the best way to apologise to Riddle would be by baking a mont blanc tart. So you and your friends decided to pick some (or rather, too many.) chestnuts to make it.

(Unfortunately to you, you were forced to apologise as well because the joke didn’t go too well.)

So now you and the rest find yourselves in the woods behind campus, picking chestnuts.

“Whoa! There really are a ton of chestnuts ‘round here!” Grim looked around, jumping excitedly at the sight before letting out a hiss– “Myah! The chestnut spines pricked my paws!”

You picked him up, gently caressing the hurt paws as his ears flatten.

“We can’t do this with our bare hands.” Deuce speaks up. “And we need something to put them in too.”

“Maybe we can find some supplies in the botanical garden?” Ace suggests, get a nod from you and Deuce.

“Let’s take a look.” Deuce says, taking the lead as he strides to the garden.

𓆩♡𓆪

Entering the garden, you greet the greeny scenes with a sneeze.

“You okay, prefect?” Ace asks, raising a brow in concern.

You nod and smile, “Just allergies, I’ll be fine.”

“This place is rather large, we should split up and look for a groundskeeper.” Deuce suggests.

“Sure, dibs on the right side.” Ace says, heading off while Deuce takes the left. You and Grim are left to continue looking around in front.

“Hey, come look at this!” Grim calls out, sniffing a bush of various kinds of fruit that emit a strong sweet scent.

“There's a ton of fruit growing here! Smells like they're ripe, too!”

You smile at the excited beast, and turn your gaze to the ground. Walking around– you notice something long flickering against the ground.

Smiling mischievously– you raise your foot and stomp it as hard as you can.”

“KYAAHHHHH!!”

You expected a scream, but not that kind of scream.

Clearing his throat, the victim of your actions scurries back as he sits up straight. Sending a glare that feels like a predator circling a helpless bunny to your direction with his fangs bared.

“Hey! You got some nerve steppin' on my tail like that.”

You smile, feeling your heart bang against your chest as you suddenly somewhat regret your decision.

But oh well, you never really liked him in the early chapters anyway so why hide it?

“Why, I’m so sorry sir!” You bow, your voice insincere and sarcastic. “I thought your tail was a grotesque snake, I never thought it was a part of someone.”

Your innocent seeming eyes land on his face as he gets up, he snarls at you and your act– his tail twitching as he huffs.

“Are you the groundskeeper?” Grim pipes in, eyeing the lion up and down. “Don’t think you should be talking to students that way, bud.”

“There isn’t anything worse than being in a good nap and havin’ somebody step on your tail.” The man huffs, you and Grim just think– ‘Why sleep here in the first place..’

Leona blinks, taking a good look at you one last time as realization sets in on his face. “You..I know you..”

‘Oh boy, here comes the daily “you’re magicless” reminder.’ You sigh, staring blankly.

“The one punch kid?”

“What.”

You feel your brain go blank as you stare, dumbfounded. “One what.”

Leona ignores you as he gets all up in your personal space, taking a whiff of your scent.

“What the fuck are you doing.” He takes a step back at that, his nose scrunching up.

“When was the last time you showered?”

“When was the last time anybody loved you?”

Leona blinks, his brows furrowing at your words. Annoyance washing over him as he lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I guess it’s true..you really don’t smell of magic at all.” He softly says, what does magic even smell like? “Yet you still managed to send those kids flying..”

You’re really starting to regret ever drinking anything, but at least the potion will hopefully be useful in the near future.

“Well, it doesn’t matter how strong you are.” The air turns cold as Leona digs his heels to the ground– his hip slightly turned. Guess the apology didn’t work. “You’re not getting away with stomping on my tail like that, that’s costing you a tooth.”

“What kind do you want?”

“What.”

The question catches both Leona and Grim off guard, slowly blinking at you.

“What kind? Human ones?” You repeat, a blank expression on your face as if it’s the most normal response in the world.

“Want them shiny white, gold, yellow, maybe a lil’ sharp?” Leona backs up.

“I don’t stop at just teeth too, I’ll give you a tongue if you want.” You suggest, “Or a nail, maybe a heart if the laws here are different.”

“What the fuck-“

“Leona! There you are!”

The three heads turn to the new guy calling out to Leona, walking towards him and sparing a quick glance at you and Grim.

“I knew I'd find you here! We got after-school classes today, reme-“

Before he could even finish, Leona immediately grabs his shoulder and drags him away.

“Wha- HEY?? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??”

“Shut it, I don’t want to continue staying even a second here any longer.”

You watch as the two leave, pouting childishly. “Ah, poo~ I scared him away.”

Grim looks at you with a concerned expression, your face suddenly flicking to a more cheery and carefree expression.

“Oh well~! Let’s get the chestnuts already.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst mc #twst #twst yuu #twst grim #twst leona #twst deuce #twst ace #twst reader insert #twst ruggie #leona kingscholar

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auroraknux · 3 months

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Let me suggest a new prompt for Luisley: 🎶

🎶 Dancing (Thanks for the prompt!)

Luigi tapped his fingers on the table. He couldn't help the creeping jealousy as he watched all of the happy couples on the dance floor. He wanted to be among them, but he was too anxious to ask…him. It was like prom all over again. At least he was allowed to wear a dress this time.

“Greenie?”

Startled, Luigi whipped around.

“P-prince Peasley?!”

With a soft smile, Peasley held out a hand. “Won't you dance with me?”

Luigi's heart almost stopped. Had he heard that right?!

“Yes!” he said a little too loudly.

Peasley chuckled. Luigi took his hand.

#drabble #luisley #luigi #prince peasley #this is the first luisley fic i've successfully written #and it's only 100 words 😭#(also sorry for the late response i got sidetracked lol)

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tadaxii-i · 7 months

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i’m peeking out of my writing haze just to say hi hello to u <3

Omg hi??

Hello to you too, it's so nice to see you actually <333 good luck with your writing, it's hard af (can you see I'm suffering with you)

#greenie tag <3 #!!!#:p

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agereoneshots · 1 month

Note

Lloyd having a meltdown bc of sensory overload :(

Everything was just too loud, too bright, and just too much! He didn't want this! Lloyd ran.

"Lloyd? Lloyd?!" Kai ran around a little panicked until he found Lloyd.

"There you are greenie. I was worried. I'm guessing things got too much?" Kai sat down on the floor next to Lloyd. Lloyd nodded.

"Anything you want to help?"

"P-paci? A-and...heavy blankie?"

"Of course."

#age regression #agere #fandom agere #lego ninjago #kai smith #lloyd garmadon

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mrs-luigi-vargas · 1 month

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Hello! A few days ago I read @stripetkattelalala54-gf's headcanon about Mario in Bowser's lap and then some dialogue popped into my head. So here's my attempt to give context to that dialogue! I think I ended up straying away from the original headcanon in the end but this was still fun to write! ^o^

~~~ [AO3 Link] ~~~

“He was hardly sleeping the last I saw him, you know.”

Peach’s words stayed Bowser’s hand. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Peach didn't answer, only waving her arm in a ‘go on, then’ motion. Bowser narrowed his eyes at the sarcasm in the gesture. Still, he didn't move to jostle Mario’s shoulder just yet. Even though he didn't see a reason why he shouldn't wake Mario up; he’d been a pain in Bowser’s neck ever since he’d spotted him a few days ago. At the market in the town nearest his castle, no less, the Princess still safe at home. With a damn backpack on his shoulders.

Bowser had watched him closely from afar, sure he was going to cause trouble, but all he’d been doing was looking at wares and buying trinkets and being disgustingly nice to the vendors he’d talked to. He hadn’t even been haggling; how he hadn't been snubbed for that rudeness was beyond him.

Regardless, Bowser had meant to walk away and let Mario burn under the late summer sun, but the tank top Mario had been wearing and the freckles on his shoulders it had exposed had stalled him long enough for Mario to notice him. Which was a mistake, because from the second Mario had seen Bowser he’d stuck to him like gum on his sole and it had been distracting. Distracting for his troops, when Mario’d swept himself up in their training exercises — which Bowser had meant to watch for insight into Mario’s fighting moveset but ended up watching for the way his sweat-soaked muscles tensed before he threw a punch — distracting for his kitchen staff, when Mario’d decided to visit their workspace — managing to wrangle a recipe for Hot Drumsticks out of them that he then made and had the idea to deliver to him in his office personally, which considering how poorly the dish came out should have been terrible, but it somehow wasn't — distracting even when Bowser tried to bore him with paperwork to get him to leave — parking himself on the couch and doodling who-knew what on a spare page, humming a tune that should have been annoying and looking up whenever Bowser moved something to the ‘done’ pile and shooting him that damn cheery grin that lit up his whole face —

“I hate having feelings.”

“You didn't seem to mind the ones you’d had for me.”

Bowser glared at Peach. Peach smiled placidly. Bowser glared harder, because the entire reason he’d sent his lieutenants to kidnap her in the first place was because after that first day of Mario making a nuisance of himself, it had become glaringly obvious that he was running himself into the ground for some stupid reason or another. And with Greenie apparently out of town, somebody had to knock some sense into the idiot, and it wasn't like Mario had listened to him so far.

But instead of doing that, Peach had sat herself in his chair behind his desk and watched Mario fiddle with literally everything in the room until he finally ran out of energy, at which point he'd draped himself over Bower’s lap and passed out. Half an hour ago.

Bowser lowered his hand onto Mario’s shoulder. Mario sighed in his sleep, expression relaxing. Bowser scowled against the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I hate it,” he repeated.

“You’ll deal.”

“I wouldn't have to if you’d just take him home.”

Peach shrugged. “Give him a break; he’s lonely.”

“What, and you weren't good enough company?”

“Not when I’m in so many meetings.”

Bowser scoffed. “As if I don't have work to do, either.”

“You foist it all onto your advisors, though!”

“So? That’s what they’re there for! I have better things to do than reading.”

Peach rolled her eyes. In doing so, she caught sight of Bowser’s ‘done’ pile by his desk. “I don't suppose all those papers magically signed themselves, then,” she teased.

“I —! It was him!” Bowser sputtered, pointing at Mario. Peach stifled laughter.

Mario stirred, the volume of Bowser’s outburst interrupting his nap. Bowser clacked his jaw shut. “Don't you dare,” he hissed.

For once, Mario listened to him and didn't dare, sinking back into sleep. The relieved slump of Bowser’s shoulders was minute, but Peach giggled at it anyway. Bowser ignored her, because she sucked and he hated her, actually, until that giggling moved and Bowser looked up from staring at Mario’s face to find her partway out the door.

Peach waved at him. “I’ll bring back snacks,” she stage-whispered with a grin, and then disappeared. With the weight of Mario on Bowser’s legs preventing him from stopping her from wandering around his castle unsupervised.

“I should wake you up,” Bowser muttered to Mario, who only snored in response. Bowser sighed, and reached his other hand to carefully move him, because the way Mario’s neck was bent was shooting phantom aches into his own. Not because he actually cared about the state of Mario’s neck, or anything. But regardless of the true reason, almost as soon as Bowser settled Mario into a better position Mario stretched and rolled over to smush his face into Bowser’s stomach. Bowser’s scowl did nothing to stem the blush forming on his cheeks, this time, despite how hard he tried. Feelings. Hated them.

Bowser sighed, leaning back against the couch. No, he thought, with the weight of Mario curled around his waist, who was he kidding? He couldn't say he hated this. And wasn't that the problem he’d been trying to ignore for a while now?

Mario shifted, a sleepy smile growing at something playing out beneath his eyelids. Bowser wondered what he was dreaming about. Something stupid, probably, like a mountain of pasta. Or maybe someone. Like his brother. Or Peach. Or —

...or.

Bowser frowned, shaking his head to dispel that train of thought before it could travel any further, a train of thought that’d had Bowser’s hand finding its way back to Mario’s shoulder without him even realizing. He huffed. What a ridiculous mess, this was. Maybe he did hate his feelings, after all.

Well, whatever. He’ll deal.

#fics that make me create headcanons for when the mushroom and bowser's kingdom's hypothetical fiscal years end #(mid winter and late fall btw. maybe.)#mlv.fic #smb #bowsario

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

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can I request a Din Djarin x flirty male bounty hunter reader? both compete for jobs, and overtime, grew closer and closer. just general frenemies to lovers headcanons if you don't mind :DD bonus points if theirs wound bandaging ((side note, there aren't a lot of mlm and nblm blogs out there.. so thank you!!))

Din Djarin x Bounty hunter male reader

Headcanons

Din my beloved space himbo 😌

Idk why I imagined the reader being kinda like Poe, but that’s what was on the back of my mind as I wrote this.

- You and Din first met when the both of you were still greenies when it came to bounty hunting. Back then Din only had a helmet and a few blasters and knives. You favored blasters and lesser-known ways of battle, like the use of needles or bladed fans. Your style was a lot more agile and fast than most, leading it to almost looking like dancing.

- You both wanted the same bounty. Din, who was smaller and more gangly than he would be later, tried to puff up and intimidate you to let him take it. But you just smirked at him and purred a compliment about his muscles.

- This threw Din for a loop, and whilst he was distracted you took the bounty and ran off, laughing as he finally seemed to realize what you did.

- You waved at him through the window of your ship as he ran out through the doors to the cantine you had both just been in, blowing him a kiss as you flew off.

- After that the both of you just kept running into each other. It was like something kept throwing you on the same path. Of all places in the galaxy, at least once a month you’d be at the same canteen or hideout for bounties or information.

- You both became a sore spot for the other, a sense of pride always pushing the both of you to passive aggressively get in each other’s way. This came from Din in the way of taking your bounties, so you shot back at ruining any attempt for him to gather information by flirting with his target or telling your own information comrades not to tell him anything.

- The two of you started to get known around the canteens you both frequented. The shiny mando and pretty pilot who both seemed to want to take a blaster or knife to the others throat.

- You kept flirting with Din, or as you knew him, Mando. Though as years passed, he became mostly desensitized to it since it happened so frequently. Though sometimes you still caught him by surprise, so you took It as a game to try and get under his skin as much as you could.

- When you could do that, you regularly slipped his bounty puck from him as he froze up, trying to think of a reply. You’d always run off like that very first time you met, and Din would chase after.

- It would be a lie to say the both of you didn’t get into fights regularly. Whether it be small scrabs in front of whatever canteen you had just bumped into each other at, or an outright gun or knife fight.

- Din would never admit that he sometimes started those knife fights so he could watch you jump and twirl with your knives. To say it made him hot under the collar would be an understatement, as knowing your way around weapons is one of the hottest things you can do for mandos.

- Your fight would always end when the owner of said canteen came charging out calling the both of you idiots for chasing away other patrons.

- You both didn’t seem to notice that you went from outright despising each other, to looking forward to seeing the other.

- You first realized when you hadn’t seen Din for about three months, and you started to worry. It was first after you had gone to the fifth canteen that you both frequented, looking for him, that it hit you.

- You shook it off, telling yourself that you had just gotten used to seeing him, so it was weird when he wasn’t there. If you had started to teach yourself Mandalorian, so what?

- For Din, it was when he had gotten shot between the armor plates, and you threw a large needle with such skill and precision, that it struck right where it needed to kill the enemy.

- He laid awake that night in his cot on his ship, with his fingers folded on his chest. When he thought of you throwing that needle with such grace his face went red and he felt warmth bloom in his chest.

- He became horrified at the thought that he was falling for you of all people, the one who many had dubbed his “rival” for many years now.

- When you next met up, Din tried to ignore you once again, but when you wrapped an arm around his waist and spoke words in heavily accented mandalorian he couldn’t help but sputter, his armor suddenly feeling hot and restrictive.

- When you stole two of his bounty pucks, it couldn’t even get himself to chase you this time.

- You both kept meeting like always, except now you didn’t get into fights in the courtyard every time. Din would nod a greeting at you, and you would blow a kiss. When Din one day caught the kiss out of the air and made a motion like he was putting it in his pocket, you couldn’t help but get a little warm in the face.

- It happened when you were once again struggling over the same bounty. This one paid a stupid amount for grabbing a kid and bringing it somewhere. Now normally you wouldn’t take this kind of bounty, but because Din wanted it, you wanted it too.

- The being behind the counter finally seemed to have enough of Dins posturing and your over-the-top whining, and finally slammed it on the table and told you to take it together or they would give it to someone else.

- Din and you looked at each other, a conversation passing between your eyes and his covered ones, and before you knew it you were in your respective ships on your ways to the bounty.

- After all these years you had finally handed over your comm codes for this mission, if you did a little happy dance as you got in your ship, no one would know. And no one would know that Din had to go splash water in his face to cool down the heat of his cheeks.

- Things pass like in the show, except for this time you are there alongside Din, and you were just enamored with Grogu.

- At some point your dock your ship somewhere safe and travel with Din in his. Along on this trip the two of you grow closer and closer, and Grogu seems to come to love the both of you.

- When everything happens with Grogu being kidnapped and handed over to the Jedi and Dins ship being destroyed, you can’t do much but stay with Din and help him the best you can.

- After the fight with Gideon is over and Din has won the darksaber, you end up on your ship, which some allies who owed you a favor brought to you.

- You end up setting the coordinates for wherever the two of you have to go, and dragging din to the small room you had set up as a medical room.

- Here you order Din out of his armor so you can look him over. He tries to go against it, but you just place your hands on your hips and stare him down, so he ends up removing his armor and the upper part of his undersuit but keeps the helmet on.

- You get to work patching him up, muttering to yourself about how he just doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

- How you don’t want to lose him because he does something stupid and ends up bleeding out on some backwater planet out in the outer rim.

- As you make work of slather bacta on a blaster burn on his side, Din lifts his hands, and before you know it you hear the hiss-click of a helmet being taken off.

- You feel your eyes widen and look up, meeting the face of Din, who glances off to the side with a nervous glint in his eyes. You are completely speechless, especially cuz you know how he feels about showing his face.

- Din starts to blush as he makes a comment about how hes already broke his oath, and because he didn’t want to lose you either he thought why not.

- That was the closest Din could get to confessing, and you knew that after having traveled with him for so long.

- You laugh outloud, and Din looks scared fearing you are laughing at him. But you jump up and grab his neck, pulling him in to kiss him passionately.

- Din freezes up for a moment, but finally melts into the kiss and lets his eyes fall shut as he cradles your jaw in his hands, trying to shove as many of his emotions into the kiss as he can, which you respond to in earnest.

- You both grasp at each other with an almost desperate, overflowing with the feelings that have slowly been brewing for many many years.

- That night you both cuddle up in your cot in the part of the ship that you have dubbed your room, holding each other close and just basking in the others presence now that you could finally hold and kiss the other.

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