#nonbinary surge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Tear Down My Reason [8]

Orderly!Blue Jones x NonBinary afab!reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Things get worse.

Please look at the warnings!

Series Masterlist

A/N: Reader is afab and non-binary, and is referred to by the nickname, 'Honey'.

Warnings: Violence, a lot of it, mostly directed at the reader (not by Blue), destruction of a toy bear, swearing, injection misgendering of reader, overuse of italics, there's some power dynamics in here, gonna say dubious consent because reader is a patient, Honey as a pet name, swearing, typos, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1882

It’s at least an hour past lights out. You’ve been in bed, bundled up under the thin covers, clutching the small bear Blue gave you to your chest the whole time.

Sleep evades you.

You can’t stop repeating what happened earlier over and over again in your mind. The events twisting and morphing with each replay until nausea pulls at your chest.

“Do you think that this is some kind of, of…Of fucking game.”

He didn’t come after you.

Didn’t come to find you in the hours that passed.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

You ball yourself up tighter, screw your eyes shut to stop the tears that threaten to leak out of them.

If you-

The door to your room flies open and slams into the wall with force.

You jump, gasping as your body freezes for a second in panic before you try to move.

The light from the hallway momentarily blinds you, your legs caught up in the blanket.

“There you fucking are.” Russell’s voice drills through your nerves as he snarls.

You don’t get a chance to react, his hand already around your neck and dragging you out of bed. You scream, swear, kicking out and digging your nails into his forearm hard enough to draw blood.

He swears, throwing you to the ground and kicking you harshly in the stomach. He keeps kicking as you double up, one blow colliding with your chin and sending a wave of sickness and darkness through your mind.

Somehow you remember to cover your head, wrapping your arms protectively over your ears and neck as his steel toe capped boots snap something in your side.

You breathe out with a wheeze, your lungs not filling with enough air.

“Fucking hiding contraband?” He snarls and grabs your bicep. He’s strong, stronger than he looks, and pulls you up to scream in your face before he shoves you out of the room into the corridor.

You slip on the titled floor, your socks skidding, and land awkwardly on your elbow. The scream you let out doesn’t sound like your own, too harsh and alien to come from your mouth. Lightning races up your arm, momentarily paralysing your hand.

What the fuck was happening?

You try to scramble to your feet as Russell pulls your room apart, tugging off the sheets and ripping the mattress from the bedframe.

You need to run. Need to. You turn, on your hands and feet, your own blood a roar as it rushes through your veins.

Russell grabs you from behind, clawing at your t-shirt and yanking you backwards. “Where the fuck are you going?”

You scream, turning to strike at his hand. He smacks you hard across the face, your lip splitting against your teeth. Iron fills your mouth.

You kick out, aiming in a rush for his crotch, but getting his leg.

He grunts, his eyes widening. But he doesn’t let go.

“Little bitch!” He pulls you back with a sudden surge of strength and you crash into the wall, the back of your head smacking against the plaster. Everything goes fuzzy. Shifted to the side.

Other patients are awake now, staring at the commotion from the tiny window in their doors. They’re yelling, screaming, banging on walls. For a second you lock eyes with Megan from across the hall. She looks horrified. She’s shouting something to you, pleading with you to get up and run.

You don’t see Russell in time, but you feel the hit, another thud of a blow across your face like a hammer.

He tries to grab you again, going for the neck of your shirt. You scratch at his hands, pushing him away with all your strength. “Get the fuck away from me!”

He goes to punch you once more, but you see this blow coming and manage to duck to the side. Russell’s hand connect with the wall and he yowls in pain.

You go for his leg, sinking your teeth into his calf through his orderly scrubs.

He shrieks and smacks the heel of his hand repeatedly against your head and face in a desperate effort to dislodge you.

“Fucking bitch!”

One hit lands just right, and you gasp in pain, falling back against the wall.

There’s no time to react as he grabs your shoulders as you struggle, pushing you down onto your stomach and pinning you with his body weight.

You scream, swearing and yelling for help that you know won’t come.

He’s heavy on your back, pushing all the air from your lungs. Your side cracks again, pain radiating out from where he kicked you. Spots dance in front of your vision.

“Can’t just fucking take a room check,” he snarls and then something sharp sinks into your neck.

You yelp as the needle pierces your skin. The fluid inside is cold as it spreads through your blood stream.

“That’ll fucking quieten you for a bit.” His spittle hits the side of your face as he growls against your ear.

Everything goes hazy, disconnected like you’ve been pulled a meter back from your own body.

He gets off you as you relax, standing to his feet and then kicking you harshing in the side once more.

The blow should hurt more than it does, you know that. The force is enough to twist you onto your side, but your body’s so heavy, delayed. You can hardly move, hardly think. There’s a dull pain, a sensation that you know is covered by this haze.

You can barely lift your head, but you see Russell pulling up the leg of his scrubs and grimacing at the bite mark you’d left.

He glares at you with sharp eyes, his expression sinks it’s fangs into your heart. He was going to kill you.

There’s a beat, and he tuts before slinking back into your room. The sounds of him pulling furniture apart and open, of ripping through your few possessions, are muffled. Far away.

You try to focus on your breathing, on shifting this blanket of haze. You can’t take a full breath.

“What the fuck is this, hmm?” He grabs your shoulder and roughly yanks you onto your back, your head smacking against the tiles. He holds up the small blue bear in his grubby hands.

Your eyes widen.

“Where did you get this from?”

You try to answer, your tongue slow.

“Fucking sneaking contraband in? Or trying to hide your meds?”

You manage to shake your head and he sneers.

“All you fucking patients, you’re all the same.” He grabs hold of the head, the other still holding the body firmly and rips it in two.

“No!” Your voice is weak, hardly anything as you mange to raise your right hand to try to grab for the bear fruitlessly. Tears sting your eyes.

Russell barks out a laugh, pulling the stuffing from its body as he stomps down on your hand with his boot.

You hear the snap. Feel it in connection to your fingers. But the pain is far away.

When he doesn’t find anything he scoffs, throwing the bear to the ground and marching back into the room.

Tears are hot on your cheeks as you find the strength to move, to grab the pieces of the shredded bear and pull it close with your injured hand. You try not to look at your fingers, how two are bent incorrectly and bleeding. Instead focusing on the bear, trying to feel the softness of its fur through your numb skin.

“What the fuck?” You hear Harris’s usually calm voice before you see him. He sounds low, quiet. But filled with dread.

You don’t have the strength to move, to see where he is. But it’s hardly a second longer before his face enters your field of vision as he crouches over you.

He says your name slowly, carefully and you nod.

His radio is in his hand a second later, static ringing as he presses the call button. “I need medical to room 512 immediately, Peterson and Davis get down here, get Jones.”

Russell steps out of the room, seemingly disinterested for a moment until he sees Harris, Blue’s second in command.

“What’s going on? I’ve got this sorted?” Russell frowns. “What the fuck did you do?”

Russell pales. “What?”

“What the fuck have you done?”

Russell swallows, holding up his hands. “Room check, I got told to rough them up a bit, they’ve got contraband, not that I’ve found it-”

“This is not a room check floor.”

“It’s on schedule.” He repeats, but his voice is wavering, uncertain. “412, it’s-”

“This is floor 5.”

Russell splutters. “She, she bit me!” He pulls at his trouser leg, truly panicking now. “I had to get her off, had to give her a shot, she was going crazy, like an animal! I thought she was going to kill me and-”

“You don’t know who this is, do you?” Harris says slowly. His words cold. His hands are around your shoulders, tilting your head up and resting the top of your spine against his knees. It’s easier to breath this way, even if it is only slightly.

“I…” Russell trails off.

“How much did you give them?”

He shakes his head.

“The injection.”

“Just, just 3ccs…”

“3?” Harris swears quietly.

Your eyes are so heavy, you try to keep them open, you really do.

“It’s not that bad, is it? Just a mix up, I-”

The doors open at the end of the corridor quickly, two med staff come rushing in, followed by Peterson and Davis.

Harris speaks to them quickly for a second, his voice quiet and controlled until the doors swing open again.

Everyone freezes. Blue’s footsteps are fast, heavy, as he moves. His face blank and eyes ablaze.

He looks to Harris who nods once.

Russell doesn’t get a chance to open his mouth to speak. But he does scream when Blue punches him in the jaw.

He stumbles. His hand to his face. But Blue hits him again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.

Until his blood sprays up the plaster wall.

And again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.

Until Russell is barely gurgling.

“Get him out of here,” he says quietly to David and Peterson. They nod without saying a word.

The medical staff lift you up and place you on a bed, the minor jolt is just enough to get your eyes to open a fraction. Your bear falls from your grasp.

“Honey,” Blue’s voice is weak, desperate as he cradles your face with his hands.

“My bear?” You say softly, trying to sit up, to reach for where it has fallen onto the floor.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll get you a new one.”

You shake your head, your voice breaking, “No, my bear… Blue.”

“We need to get her to the infirmary Sir,” one of the medical staff says and Blue nods.

“Them.” He gives the nurse a harsh look. “Not her, them.”

The nurse nods quickly, swallowing as he looks away from Blue’s gaze.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist 1:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @steven-grants-world @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine

@angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin

@reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr

@spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23

@sub-aro @killerdollz @maplemind @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist

@dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious @homuraak3mi @swiftiegirliepop

@oscarssimp @milkypompon @eternallyvenus @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012

@pigeonmama @marcsb1tch @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan

@faretheeoscar @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#blue jones #sucker punch #blue jones x reader #x reader #blue jones x you #x you #blue jones x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #blue jones x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

58 notes · View notes

moobieni · 3 months ago

Text

they are (unbeknownst to them) besties

#surge the tenrec #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic the hedghog fanart #sth fanart #nonbinary surge #trans sonic #they are sooo important to me #could be platonic or romantic #i’m kinda beginning to like surgonic tho…#sonic idw

42 notes · View notes

sagethegremlin · 11 months ago

Text

🔥Lesbian, Nonbinary, and Disabled Surge icons all picked from issue 70🔥

no credit needed!!!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic idw #surge the tenrec #sonic icons #icons #pride icons #surge idw #surge fans we are EATING

118 notes · View notes

amurderandconspiracy · 5 months ago

Text

Five Stages, Two Talons, and a lost little Crow

****Dragon Age Veilguard spoilers AHEAD, read at your own peril ****

>>>

Follow up scene with Lucanis and Viago – After “Scents and Grief” and the letter This scene is prompted by what was not shown of the companions during the Regret Prison. Viago is a worried older brother, just do not tell him I said so. My Rook is a nonbinary Crow!Mage!Rook but this scene does not necessarily give any descriptions of Rook, other than their name, so you can inject your own into the scene if that helps you.

>>>

The sound of the room’s double doors slamming woke him from his depressed slumber. Darkness flooding his sight as he opens his eyes to the still dimness of the wardrobe and with a brief intake, the comforting perfume slips into his nose and settles into his lungs. The feathers of the blanket brush against his skin and a crumpled parchment clutched in his hand falls to the floor of the wardrobe as he comes back to himself. Remembrance dawns for a moment, chilling the brief warmth in his chest. The void of anguish spreads and Lucanis starts to sink back down as his mind fights the web of miserable exhaustion and emptiness, only to remember that the loud sound of the double doors slamming woke him.

“Where the Maker are they!?” booms an angry voice laced with deeply seated fear and worry. The familiar and irritated lilt of Viago’s voice travels through the stone chamber and bounces off the aquarium glass, barely muffled by the wardrobe doors.

Lucanis cannot seem to muster a mood to deal with Viago in this moment and Spite uses the lack of response from Lucanis to jump to the fore, responding with irritation and unkindness, “GET. OUT!”

Lucanis rolls his eyes, and directs a thought at Spite, thanks for that, pissing off Viago is not the best idea…especially when we failed to tell him what happened to Rook...

Spite seems to catch on this thought and tilts his head, NOT GONE. ROOK IS OURS; WE WILL FIND THEM. ADDER’S MUSTACHE CAN WAIT.

Lucanis goes to respond when the doors of the wardrobe are furiously pulled open, the flood of watery shimmering light from the aquarium casts a tint of greenish-blue into the dark cupboard, an enraged Viago speaking with clipped tones as he attempts to bodily drag Lucanis into the room, “Hiding Dellamorte? Answer me!” Viago is speaking through clenched teeth and the grip he manages on Lucanis’ gear feels like claws dug into flesh.

Lucanis’ emotional reserves may be numbed to the point of oblivion but his instincts are well honed and the hostile way that Viago is demanding Lucanis answer to him allows the cool exterior of indifference to slide into place as the innate need to defend himself and his safety takes hold. Lucanis surges forward from his nest and uses the offset of Viago’s footing to push up and out of the wardrobe while grabbing the forearms of the raging Fifth Talon. Viago senses the shift and tries to throw his mass to reorient the balance and allow Lucanis’ sprung energy to overbalance him. In the same instance Viago attempts to drop his weight, Lucanis anticipates the use of encumbrance for leverage, feeling himself cross the center line and performs a slight spin to disengage, freeing his hands of Viago’s forearms and preparing for a more concerted response.

“Where are they, Dellamorte!? Where is my…Rook?!” Viago seems to strain to contain an emotional reaction as he yells the final question and Lucanis makes a quick assessment, seeing the always brooding but usually composed Viago breathing irately; a wild look about his features.

Lucanis immediately disengages and holds up his hands, stepping just out of range. “Viago, I…” he responds with a stripe of shame and guilt seeping into his voice.

“Don’t you fucking dare! Where is Rook? And don’t you fucking say what you almost said…where is Fae!?” Viago steps forward, pressing the advantage, fear and anger mixing in his voice as he fights for some semblance of control to get an answer. An answer that does not involve apologies.

“They…were…pulled into the Fade…” Lucanis starts to explain, the guilt and the weight of his emotional decline is evident in the way his voice drops in timbre, almost breathy as he forces out words he has not wanted to say.

“And when in damnation were you going to tell me that a member of my House was in the bloody Fade? Were you going to leave me to wait obediently in Treviso without a single word?!” Viago continues to advance, though his shoulders are dropping as if a weight is dragging him past composure.

“We…I do not have answers. They were there…one moment…the next they were not and they cried my…” Lucanis swallows and stops then, unable to say more without losing face. “I was going to come to Treviso to tell you, to tell you to your face.” Lucanis almost pleads, the mask of the assassin’s calm drawing back to reveal a haunted expression.

Spite circles Viago, stalking and observing him. SMELLS LIKE POISONS…AND…ROOK. He seems perplexed by this and tilts his head like a bird, assessing the rumpled look of Viago’s hair and the puffiness of the skin below his eyes. DROWNED IN ANGER AND GRIEF. Spite steps closer at this point, knowing Viago cannot see or hear him.

Spite, back away. Viago is Fae’s teacher, their older brother of sorts. Do not push him. Lucanis mentally tries to pull Spite away from Viago. Watching the man absorb the response.

Viago sees the strain on Lucanis’ face and the pieces of fragmented information starts to paint a saddened expression of understanding and commiseration, “Who and what do I have to kill to get them back…is there another of these so-called gods that we need to sacrifice to bring them home?” Viago looks directly into Lucanis’ eyes, the wheels of negotiations and plans already churning in his mind.

Lucanis hesitated for a moment, not knowing the right answer and after their little breakdown last night, he was not currently apprised of the battle plans or developments from the rest of the team. He knew Emmrich had been formulating some theories; Neve as well. Harding and Taash had immediately started reaching out to their contacts and network. The loss of Davrin and Assan, and the capture of Bellara had not even been discussed, everyone avoiding the subject all together. The team had been in shock, disassociated from the reality of their losses when they had mercifully escaped Tearstone Island following the firestorm that Elgar’nan had kicked up in response to the slaying of Ghilan’nain.

Viago looks at him in anticipatory silence, Lucanis shakes off his hesitation and responds with a voice of surety he is certainly not feeling, “Let us go down to the kitchen table, we can put on coffee and discuss with everyone our strategy going forward.” Lucanis steps forward then and places his hand on Viago’s arm, redirecting him with very little effort toward the doors.

“We will get them back Viago. We must.” Lucanis promises, not entirely to Viago, not allowing acceptance of anything less.

WE WILL. Spite affirms, settling into Lucanis with purpose and determination.

#dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age #rookanis #veilguard spoilers #rook x lucanis #viago de riva #viago is pissed #viago's little sibling/ward is missing and he is not happy #five stages of grief

42 notes · View notes

crossdreamers · 4 months ago

Text

Wikipedia remains a reliable source of transgender information

In the wake of recent anti-trans legislation by the Trump administration, Wikipedia has emerged as a reliable source of information on transgender topics, Assigned reports.

The online encyclopedia, maintained by a community of volunteers, has played a crucial role in countering disinformation and preserving accurate coverage of transgender history, healthcare, and rights.

As bias-driven disinformation surged from the White House, a trans editor for Wikipedia promptly alerted fellow editors in the LGBTQ+ studies group. This community-driven effort ensures that Wikipedia remains a factual resource amidst the administration's attempts to erase trans rights and dignity.

Wikipedia's editors, including trans and nonbinary individuals, have faced personal attacks and harassment while maintaining the integrity of the platform. Despite these challenges, they continue to provide unbiased and accurate entries.

Notable figures like Elon Musk have also targeted Wikipedia, urging followers to stop donating to the platform. However, the community remains resilient, with editors like "Your Friendly Neighborhood Sociologist" (YFNS) leading efforts to counteract transphobic vandalism and protect the integrity of articles.

Read the article here.

Wikipedia articles on Trump’s anti-trans executive orders (as of February 7, 2025)

EO 14168, "Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government" (issued on inauguration day, January 20)

EO 14183, "Prioritizing Military Excellence and Readiness" (issued January 27)

EO 14187, "Protecting Children from Chemical and Surgical Mutilation" (issued January 28)

EO 14201, "Keeping Men Out of Women's Sports" (issued February 5)

#transgender #trans #lgbt #lgbtqa #queer #lgbtq #wikipedia #politics

43 notes · View notes

nonbinairyboi · 3 months ago

Text

Nothing Left: Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Your afternoon takes an unexpected turn.

Pairing: Joel Miller x nonbinary!Reader/OC (afab, dimples, has multiple nicknames but none are their name)

Word Count: ~2.7k

A/N: First time writing smut y’all. Hope everyone likes theirs with a sprinkle of gender dysphoria

Series Masterlist (w/ ASL) | Playlist | Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: Brief reference to injury. Smut. Gender dysphoria. Brief reference to PTSD. Vaginal fingering. Unprotected p in v (wrap it up).

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 11

A feeling that was both deeply familiar and yet wholly unfamiliar swept through you, like picking an old friend you hadn’t spoken to in years out of a crowd.

One of Joel’s hands was still holding your injured arm reverently as the other one cradled your jaw in desperation. Your own hands grasped for purchase in his curls.

As you made full contact with each other, you both became aware of just how soaked through from the snow your clothes had become.

“Jesus, you’re freezing.” Joel said, breaking away from you and catching his breath, leaning his forehead against yours.

You let out a slightly breathless laugh at his words, pushing any thoughts telling you that you would regret this to the back of your mind as you unzipped your jacket and pushed it from your shoulders before doing the same to his.

His mouth was immediately back on yours, helping you guide the sleeves of his coat down his arms before you both reached up to start unbuttoning his flannel.

As soon as the last button was clear, he scrambled to pull his sleeves off behind him while you unzipped your hoodie, his mouth never leaving yours as he pressed forward.

Once you were both left in your tshirts, your hands landed on his chest, pushing him back lightly as you took a moment to catch your breath, his head falling to your shoulder.

Your hands skated from his chest to his broad shoulders, lightly scratching his neck as they made their way back to his curls, pulling to turn his head back to yours, drawing a ragged inhale from him.

His hands fell to your hips, pulling them forward to meet his own, where you could feel him already growing hard. You blindly pushed him backwards towards where you assumed the bedroom was, accidentally knocking him into a side table, forcing you both apart with a muffled chuckle passing your lips before Joel turned, pulling you more forcefully to the correct room.

Closing the door behind you, he pressed you up against the wall again, hands traveling shakily under your shirt, feeling your nipples through your sports bra, causing you to tense up.

Reality came crashing down around you. There was a man touching you. A man that presumably saw you as a woman and had expectations to go along with it. Your body froze and your breath hitched, suddenly terrified that you were unable to communicate fully. That this would end up the same as so many other encounters.

But Joel seemed to sense the change in your reaction immediately, stepping back from you and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Hey.” He whispered, his gaze trying to catch your own, which had frozen straight ahead. “Fuck!” He said, taking another step back “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Your vision seemed to swim back into focus at his words. The fact that he had recognized the change in your body so instantly and responded with compassion made tears spring to your eyes.

Misreading your expression for something worse, he quickly tried to appease you further. “I got caught in the moment. I’m so sorry. We can ask Tommy to never be on patrol again if you’re uncomfortable. I really didn’t-“

You cut him off by surging forward, heatedly bringing your mouth back to his as you pushed him toward and onto the bed. You felt him pull away and stopped yourself from chasing after his mouth, suddenly scared that he had truly meant that he didn’t want to kiss you. Instead you found his eyes searching yours.

“You’re sure?” He asked in a low voice.

As soon as you nodded, he flipped you under him, attaching himself to you, one of his hands propping himself up while the other explored under your shirt more tentatively this time, remaining on your waist and stomach as he pressed his hips to yours once more, the weight hitting just the right spot and causing you to sharply inhale.

Before you could overthink the situation further, you grabbed the hand on your stomach and pushed it under the bra you wore, your hand curling around his to guide his hold.

A soft exhale left his mouth at the action, and his hips thrust forward towards you again before he slotted his knee between your legs.

You found yourself lost in the sensations despite the vulnerable position that you were in, lifting your hips up to meet his pressure, welcoming him closer. Your hand made its way under his shirt, scratching lightly down his chest and causing a stuttered “Fuck” to escape his lips.

The desperation and pants passing between you grew, and his hand quickly made its way out from under your bra and moved to the front of your pants, struggling slightly to undo your belt. You returned the favor, sitting up slightly as he rose to his knees to complete the action before he stood up to remove his pants and helped you as you struggled to pull yours off, the snow that had melted on them making them stick to your thighs.

As he crawled back over you, your core met his. With such thin fabric now between you, you could feel each other more fully, causing you both to moan, your own eyes squeezing shut at the sensation before you forced them open so you could observe him.

His hand soon traveled down and lightly cupped you through your boxers. You bucked up into his hand, encouraging him to hold you more firmly, which he did without hesitation before slowly rocking his hand side to side, his eyes glued to your face as you felt your folds rub against each other at the gesture, causing a whimper to slip past your lips.

His lips dipped to yours at the sound, and you pulled him closer to you, feeling him shudder slightly as his front met the back of his own hand as it touched you.

You knew he could feel the wetness that had pooled between your legs through the fabric. Your hand wandered over his ass and grabbed it, pulling him impossibly closer as his fingers dipped lower, spreading you slightly and rubbing, hearing the slick sound as the fabric shifted.

When the teasing became too much, you guided his hand under your boxers. His fingers were still slightly cold from the air as they met the heat of your folds as he parted them, causing you to jolt slightly. He kissed your jaw in apology before a finger touched your clit so lightly you almost wondered if he was hovering right above it until he began to move in small slow circles.

Your hand grasped at the back of his shirt, twisting it tightly as you gasped. Your other hand found its way between you, ghosting over the thickness in his boxers before grasping it harder as he let out an involuntary grunt.

He guided you to lie more fully on your back, his body seeming to consume yours from above. After stroking him through the fabric for a bit longer, he moaned and swatted your hand away. The hand in your boxers moved lower to tease your entrance before his finger thrust inside, forcing the air from your lungs.

It wasn’t much of a stretch with how turned on you already were, but the sensation was newly unfamiliar. It had been long enough that you would have been embarrassed to tell him and he was already reaching further than you could yourself. One of your hands grasped loosely around his jaw, pushing it to the side so that you could kiss the line of it, nuzzling the scruff you found there. When your mouth had made its way to his ear, you bit it slightly as you pulled him closer, drawing a surprised sound that sounded remarkably close to a whimper from him.

His hand fumbled as he hooked another finger within you, opening his hand so that his thumb brushed your clit and his ring finger and pinky curled around the inside of your thigh near your ass.

The dueling sensations had you hurtling closer to the edge of an unseen drop off, your heels digging into the bed as your legs scrambled to find purchase in the sheets, as if they could somehow stop you from being pushed over the edge.

You were startled out of your concentration by a nip at your ear, shocking a moan out of you as Joel whispered “Let go for me.”

At his words, the air stopped moving for a moment before crashing around you as you came, your abdominal muscles tensing and releasing with abandon as your fingernails dug into his back and neck. Through the humming in your ears, you heard him mumble something incoherent into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, kissing the spot lightly as you slowly came back down to earth, though residual tremors still jolted you.

Your hands struggled to come back under your control as you pushed his boxers down his ass, your hands giving it an appreciating squeeze on the way down. You were soon divested of your own, and didn’t dare look down as he came closer, scared that your PTSD or gender dysphoria would tear you away from the moment. You could feel him holding and guiding himself with his hand to swipe between your legs, covering himself in the wetness there as you shuddered. His cock tapped your clit, drawing another jerk and whimper out of you. He seemed to enjoy the reaction and repeated the action a few times before you reached down and grasped him yourself in impatience, his own surprised moan filling you with much needed confidence.

Your eyes locked, and his seemed to be telling you that you could stop him.

You felt the thick head of him notch at your entrance, releasing a low drawn out sound from your chest as he pressed forward. The stretch of just the head of him inside you caused you to squeeze your eyes tight, feeling Joel’s ragged exhale at the base of your throat. Your hips rocked forward and back slightly a few times, feeling your body squeeze the sensitive head caressing a spot inside you that you had long forgotten, and you heard a low whine come from Joel.

Unable to hold back further, his hips thrust forward until your hips connected, your legs wrapping around him on instinct.

He slowly dragged himself almost all the way out before meeting your hips again with a snap, a high-pitched cry crawling unbidden up your throat.

“Shit.” Joel breathed. Somehow, the desperation from before still lingered in the air despite the slowdown of pace you had both molded yourselves to. His back felt hot with it as you scratched it with your nails, simultaneously pulling him closer and dragging him away.

The slow rhythmic movement of the pair of you felt like the ebb and flow of a sea you hadn’t had the chance to behold in years. With each thrust, you felt the sweat on his back, the contraction of his muscles, the response of your own. Time held still as you both moved, words unnecessary.

An hour ago you would have never imagined yourself here, but now it felt natural without the need for explanation. He seemed to be savoring this, to what end you couldn’t tell.

Despite the pleasure building within you as he dragged through your walls, you felt an apprehension overtake you. Did he just want to use you to forget the moments before? Did you care?

Before you could think too deeply about it, you took matters into your own hands, using your weight to propel him over onto his back. You leaned over him, gathering his wrists loosely in your hands and placing them by his head, shifting your weight into them slightly as you began to sway your hips forward and back at an increased pace. His eyes had shot open in what you read as a kind of expressive but not unpleasant shock at your actions, now finding himself at the mercy of your growing confidence.

You took time to swirl your hips over Joel’s with each movement despite the ache that already sat there from riding earlier, an exhale pushed forcefully from his stomach at the movement, prompting a pleased drop in your own in response.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting and retreating filled the room. The only other sound besides your shared panting was the low whistle of the wind outside.

When you let go of his wrists and braced yourself on his chest, his hands flew to your ass, squeezing and encouraging the roll of your hips to his, his eyes drifting down to where you met before squeezing his eyes shut briefly as he leaned his neck back. Taking advantage of the line of his neck being exposed, you leaned forward and nipped at him before mouthing your way back to his jawline. A sound similar to a growl came from his throat at the movement and he struggled to sit up and scoot back on the bed, bringing you with him until his back was against the headboard and you adjusted in his lap.

Your arms flew to his shoulders to stabilize yourself, as one of his hands made its way up your chest, pushing under your bra again and loosely holding you, satisfied to just feel you jiggle as you moved.

Your movements became more desperate as you felt yourself chasing your pleasure again.

His breath was coming out in short pants as you rode him, hips smacking together. You adjusted yourself until he hit just the right spot within you, making you wantonly moan, his own moan matching yours, as you leaned forward and captured his lips once more.

His lips caressed yours as he moved. His hand on your breast moved to curl around your head and scratch lightly at your scalp as yours pulled him closer to you, your chests tight together through the shirts that neither of you had bothered to discard.

The rhythm built between you as your lips roamed each other, biting and licking.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t think I can last much longer.” Joel panted, the pitch of his voice rising as your own moans settled lower in your stomach with each movement, seemingly pushed out of your chest without your control.

His enthusiasm fed your own and you began to move more frantically, chasing your own high.

The pace became too fast for your kiss and you pulled away slightly, your foreheads still connected as they leaned into each other.

You felt a cold drip of sweat make its way down your back and pool by his hand still gripping your ass, still urging you on.

Your eyes met as you saw him gritting his teeth, holding himself back. You bounced more desperately until at last, his tip nudged you at just the right moment as your clit ground against him simultaneously, causing you to choke out a moan and convulse around him, your legs shaking with the effort. Your head flew back, your vision swimming as you stared up at the ceiling.

Joel’s lips parted slightly as he watched your face, both his hands now on your ass, helping you to keep moving as you shook above him, whimpering.

As the tremors calmed down, he flipped you under him again before beginning his own race to the end, careful to watch your face as he sped up.

You thought you were done coming but the pace he set drew it out as he pounded into you. He came with a strangled cry that matched your own as his head dipped down and rested on your chest.

Your arms wound around his back, holding him to you as you both caught your breath, his body sagging further into yours as you felt him begin to drip out from you.

Your mind was still too hazy to second guess yourself as you leaned forward, kissing the sweaty curls now stuck to his forehead. His head lifted up slightly as he reverently kissed the center of your chest through your shirt before settling himself down once again, the weight of him on top of you calming the frantic beating of your heart. Your eyes slipped closed, hands once again twisting in his shirt, bringing him impossibly closer.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@powellssaturn

@silas-aeiou

25 notes · View notes