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knivestothroats · 1 year

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okay, noncon au for itws part 1. it’s nasty and nsfw. dead dove do not eat and all that. also i don’t want to reignite the “what is fletcher’s agab” debate again. i gave them junk in this for convenience but in canon they’re like a ken doll don’t @ me, look at my pinned post and behave.

Fletcher’s hand shot out, grabbing Buck by the throat and slamming him against the wall, hard enough for his head to ricochet. Buck gasped in shock, or tried to, as air was suddenly hard to come by.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this,” Fletcher said, wrapping their other hand around Buck’s throat. Their grip began to tighten. “But you just can’t get it through your head, can you?”

Fletcher leaned into their grip. Buck’s hands scrabbling at Fletcher’s wrists were losing their strength. His head began to swim. Just as his vision started to become unfocused, Fletcher released their hold on him.

Buck collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, fingers running over his abused throat. He didn’t have long to recover before he felt a fist in his hair pulling him along. Buck scrambled to his feet, but Fletcher’s grip kept him bent at an awkward angle as they dragged him to his room.

Fletcher closed the door behind them before wrenching Buck upright and twisting his arm behind his back. They shoved him onto his bed, where Buck caught himself on his free arm and guided his fall to stay partially upright. But Fletcher shoved again, pushing Buck face down onto the bed. He felt Fletcher climb onto the bed and straddle his hips from behind, then heard the gentle clink of a belt being unbuckled.

Fletcher took Buck’s other wrist and held it with his first. They tried to wrap the belt around them, but Buck began to panic and pull away.

“No - what are you doing?” he cried out, yanking his arms from Fletcher’s grip, trying to look at them over his shoulder.

Fletcher, impatient but remaining calm, pulled their gun from its holster and held it against the back of Buck’s head.

Buck stilled immediately. He licked his lips and tried to look at Fletcher out of the corner of his eye.

“If you wanted me dead you would have killed me by now.”

“It doesn’t have to kill you,” Fletcher said. They trailed the barrel of the gun down the back of his neck, pausing on his shoulder, then his upper arm. “Remember how much it hurt to get shot in the leg? You could have a matching bullet hole in every limb.”

They leaned in over Buck. “And you won’t bleed out as long as I go nice and slow… stitch you up in between…” they pressed themselves against Buck as they spoke. “But you don’t want to try that, do you?”

Buck swallowed and shook his head, tears stinging at the backs of his eyes.

“Then keep still.”

Buck nodded.

Fletcher returned their pistol to its holster and took hold of Buck’s wrists. He didn’t struggle as they fastened their belt, making it tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to wiggle out. The edges of the leather were already digging into his skin.

“What’re - what are you going to do?” Buck asked over his shoulder.

“You’ll see,” Fletcher said lightly.

They shuffled back and wrapped their fingers around the top of Buck’s jeans, slowly beginning to pull down.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Buck said, beginning to struggle again. “Don’t do this, don’t - Fletcher, please, I’ll-”

Fletcher put a hand flat on his back to hold him down.

“I’ll be good,” Buck said. “I’ll do whatever you want, I won’t talk back, I’ll - I’ll do whatever you want. Please. Please don’t do this. I’ll be good.”

Fletcher paused. They crawled forward and leaned in close over Buck, close enough for him to feel their breath on his ear, and ran their fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face.

“You’ll be good for me?” they asked. “You’ll do anything I want?”

“Y-Yes,” Buck croaked out.

Fletcher’s other hand ran up Buck’s hip, under his shirt, fingers trailing over bare skin.

“What if I want you to just lie still and take it?” they whispered in his ear.

Buck’s mouth twisted and he turned away to bury his face in the pillow. He turned back a moment later, eyes spilling with tears, to say something. But his mouth merely hung open before closing again without a word.

Fletcher watched his face hungrily. They suddenly pulled away and flipped Buck onto his back, landing him awkwardly on the arms tied behind him. Fletcher loomed over him, holding themselves up with hands on either side of his head. Buck turned his tear soaked face away, unable to stand looking up at them.

“You know that I can do whatever I want,” Fletcher said. “You know that I can take whatever I want, and I can make you do whatever I want. You know that. Right?”

Buck blinked away tears and nodded.

“Look at me,” Fletcher said.

Buck turned their head to look at Fletcher.

“Tell me you know that.”

“I know,” Buck said, voice thick with tears.

Fletcher smiled and patted Buck on the cheek. They leaned in and planted a kiss on his neck, followed by a bite. Buck flinched at the sudden sharpness. Fletcher let their hand roam up under Buck’s shirt as they pulled back.

“I knew you’d get the picture, Buck,” Fletcher said with a smile. “You’re a fast learner. The only problem is that the lessons seem to leave your head as fast as they go in.”

Fletcher drew their hand back down toward Buck’s waist.

“I-I got it, I understand,” Buck said.

“We’ll take it easy this time,” Fletcher said. They popped open the button on Buck’s pants.

“No, no, no…” Buck whined. He tried to shuffle away, but there was nowhere to go.

“Just a little reminder,” Fletcher continued. They unzipped Buck’s jeans and slid them down his legs, along with his underwear. Buck let out a whine as he was exposed to the air.

“You don’t - you don’t have to do this,” Buck cried. “I understand, I understand, I…”

“I just want to make sure it sinks in,” Fletcher said, unaffected by Buck’s pleas.

“Can we - can we make a deal?” Buck whined out.

Fletcher tilted their head at him. “A deal?”

“Yeah,” Buck breathed. “You don’t do this and I - I…”

“Buck.” Fletcher snaked a hand up around Buck’s throat. They didn’t squeeze, but they held him down against the pillow. “You see? You don’t get it. There is nothing you can offer me. You do what I say. End of.”

“I’ll…”

“If you’re going to tell me you’ll fight me,” Fletcher said, letting their other hand find its way to Buck’s cock. “You won’t. You can’t.”

Buck let out a whimper as Fletcher released his throat. Their other hand began to move at a slow, steady pace.

“Please, please…” Buck sobbed.

“I’ll tell you when I want you to beg,” Fletcher said. “You’re going to do what I say, Buck. All the time. And then includes when I tell you to cum, you’re going to cum for me.”

Before Buck could argue or plead any further, Fletcher jammed two of their fingers into his mouth, pushing them towards the back of his throat. Buck gagged, and then he bit down.

Fletcher’s other hand released him to fly up and punch him in the face.

Buck cried out and relinquished his bite. Fletcher gripped his jaw and pointed his face toward their own to make sure he looked them in the eyes.

“No biting. Be a good boy.”

They slid their fingers back into his mouth, moving them over his tongue and around the insides of his cheeks. Buck tensed and squirmed, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried not to gag, keeping his mouth open.

Fletcher’s hand had returned to his dick, too sensitive from their impatient attention to it. They pulled their fingers from Buck’s mouth and slid them down his ass.

Buck’s panic kicked up again.

“No, no, no, don’t, don’t, wait…” he started babbling as he squirmed back. He began to pull his knees in and try to kick at Fletcher.

“Hey!” Fletcher snapped, catching his leg and pinning it down under their own. Their hand returned to its familiar place around Buck’s throat. They leveled Buck with a serious stare and told him, “I can make this hurt. I can make it more painful than it needs to be.”

Buck swallowed, frozen.

“You don’t want that, do you?” Fletcher prompted.

When Buck blinked, tears escaped down his cheeks. “I don’t want this at all,” he whimpered.

Fletcher merely shushed him and pressed their first finger against his entrance, slowly but steadily forcing it in.

“No, no, no, no,” Buck despaired, almost to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his head back against the bed. “Please…”

Fletcher spit in the palm that was stroking Buck’s cock as they started to weasel a second finger into his ass.

Buck was shamelessly whimpering now, far past caring about maintaining dignity. He hesitantly opened his eyes when he felt Fletcher’s fingers leave him, only to see that Fletcher had taken their own cock out and were stroking it to full hardness. [Fletcher has a dick in this reality bc I didn’t want to deal with hardware]

“Wait! Wait, Fletcher, listen,” Buck said frantically. “I’ve never… I’ve never really been with a guy. Not - not… all the way…”

Fletcher had paused, hands holding up his thighs, cock lined up and ready to penetrate. They gave him a look, maybe hesitance, maybe sympathy.

Then they said, “Well, I’m not a guy, so you’re still in the clear,” and they pushed themself inside.

“STO-OP!” Buck screamed, loud enough that surely the trainees could hear in the rest of the house. Some part of him still managed to be embarrassed. He wondered, in a small part of his mind, if they knew what was happening. If they knew that Fletcher was violating him in this way. Or if they assumed it was the standard sort of physical violence he almost longed for now.

The thought of others hearing him only made him feel worse about the sound he made as Fletcher slowly but surely pushed their full length inside of him. His face burned. He felt like he was on the verge of being ripped apart.

Fletcher pulled their hips back and rolled them forward. They began to ease into a rhythm.

“No, no, Fletcher, please…” Buck was openly sobbing now. “Please, please don’t…”

Buck nearly screamed again when Fletcher’s hand returned to his cock.

He couldn’t relax. Every thrust burned, every stroke felt like electricity. The sensations were overwhelming and inescapable.

“I can’t… please stop, please, I’ve - I’ve - I’ve learned my lesson.” Buck struggled to get the words out. “I can’t… please, I can’t, I can’t-”

Fletcher took their free hand off Buck’s thigh and pushed their fingers back into his mouth. Buck once again had to struggle to keep his mouth open and try not to gag.

“Shh, shh,” Fletcher hushed him gently. They spoke in a soft voice. “You can take it. You don’t have a fucking choice. You’re going to take it, because you’re going to take anything I fucking give you.” Their thrusts started hitting harder, their voice turning harsh. “And one of these days you’re going to get that into your fucking head.”

Buck’s whole body was being jolted with each of Fletcher’s movements now. Every spearing thrust pushed him with it, letting him fall back as they pulled out just enough to slam in again, jerking Buck along with them again.

It was relentless. The sensations were overpowering, all consuming. It was agony, it was its own type of torture, but despite how Buck felt in his head, his body had its own agenda. His dick was hard in Fletcher’s steady hand. His body was yielding to theirs. He couldn’t will those reactions away. He wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse if he could.

Buck’s legs began to tremble. Fletcher had returned their hand there, and they ran their fingertips over his skin.

“Getting close?” they asked with a sharp smirk.

Buck didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and twisted up his mouth.

“Hey, Buck,” Fletcher spoke softly again, leaning in over him. “Look at me.”

Buck reluctantly opened his eyes.

“Do you want to cum?”

Buck didn’t answer. A whimper surfaced from his throat, but his mouth remained a frown, twisted tight.

“You don’t want to cum?” Fletcher tilted their head in faux ignorance.

Buck whined and squeezed his eyes shut again. God, was Fletcher going to edge him after all this? At least it would be over. If he had to finish himself off in private after they left him used and abused, he could deal with his own shame and self hatred in his own time. At least they wouldn’t still be inside of him.

Of course, Buck wanted relief. He wanted release. But he didn’t want to cum at Fletcher’s hand, from their violation, their violence.

“Aw, you don’t want me to make you cum?” Fletcher said with mock sympathy. They placed a hand beside his head on the mattress to lean in over him further. “But, if you’ll remember Buck… the whole point here… is that I can make you do whatever I want.”

Fletcher sat back again. They hoisted Buck’s leg up and pushed themself even farther, somehow, at a more rapid pace, other hand constant and unflagging as it stroked his cock.

Buck’s whole body was shaking as the sensations came to a climax. He turned his head and grit his teeth, until his mouth fell open involuntarily and a shameful noise escaped him. Ropes of cum fell onto his own stomach.

Fletcher fell back into a steady rhythm as Buck trembled through the aftershocks. Mercifully, they took their hand off his sensitive cock. Less mercifully, they reached up and turned his head toward them, so he could make eye contact through his tears.

“That was good, huh?” Fletcher smiled.

Buck couldn’t even muster up a “fuck you.” And even if he had it in him, he knew it would not have been wise. Defiance was what put him here in this bed, with Fletcher on top of him. Still inside of him. Still moving.

Buck twitched and screwed his eyes shut as Fletcher continued to thrust into his abused hole.

“It was good for me,” Fletcher said in a breathy tone. “I love how you sound when you’re in agony.”

They released their grip on his jaw, only to return it to his overstimulated cock.

Buck let out a cry and a full-body flinch. At that, Fletcher closed their own eyes and pressed themself flush against Buck’s hips. With a sinking horror, Buck realized they were cumming inside of him.

Fletcher let out a contented sigh and pulled out. Buck whimpered at the feeling and pressed his legs together as soon as he was able to do so. Maybe he was imagining it - maybe his mind was inventing things - but he was sure he could feel Fletcher’s cum dripping down the back of his thighs. All he wanted to do was cover his face and curl up in a ball, but his arms were dead weight beneath him, still bound in the belt.

Fletcher wiped themself off on the sheets and redressed.

“Well,” they said, stretching their arms casually above their head before letting them swing down at their sides. “I’m gonna hit the shower. See you later, Buckaroo.”

Please… my arms… is what Buck tried to say, but he couldn’t make his body respond to his brain, and the words never came out.

He watched, distantly, as Fletcher walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Buck stared at that closed door for a moment, before curling up on his side, knees tucked up to his chest. He couldn’t even pull the blankets over himself. If he wanted the freedom of his arms, if he wanted to get cleaned up, if he so much as wanted to turn the lights off in his room…

He’d have to wait for Fletcher.

#proof reading this was like 'hm. gross.'#this is embarrassing but if you read it you're in it with me #what were you doing at the devil's sacrament and all that #itws

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howdywrites · 1 year

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The Encounter

WIP: In The Woods Somewhere Characters: Jackie and Benny Word Count: 1,070 ***Content Warnings: no gore but gross descriptions of bodily fluids, mild suspense***

This takes place early in ITWS, when Benny and Jackie run into someone who will not be human very soon. Just a reminder: this WIP is set during the early apocalypse, contains zombies, and is sapphic! Created for mature audiences!

Another note, I have had severe writers block and generally been stupid busy, so this is only 1/3 of the work I did on this novel recently. I’m hoping this will encourage me to keep writing!

Wet, acrid heat engulfed Jackie. This time of year the air was sticky and hot, carrying the scent of pine and goldenrod flowers on the wind. She shielded her eyes with her free hand, leaning against her rake that she stabbed into the moist earth. Buzzards swarmed overhead, cawing and floating along the blue sky.

"Something must've died," Benny puffed, his shoulders hunched and hands resting on his knees. His back moved up and down rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Please tell me you brought sunscreen with you," Jackie raised a brow while looking at the young ranger intern. Benny's cheeks were scarlet, sweat falling in large beads down his freckled cheeks. He lifted his head, dirty blond hair sticking to his forehead, and grinned ear to ear.

"Nope!"

"Goddamn it, Benny..." Jackie unclipped the portable fan from around her neck and handed it to him. "Chief is going to kill you, you know. If skin cancer doesn't get to you first."

"It's such a pain - why do I have to reapply it every thirty minutes? Can't they just make sunscreen that lasts all day?" Jackie knew he was kidding, but the urge to give the young man a tongue lashing crept up the back of her throat. So she gave him a deep frown, watching as he fanned himself at full volume. His eyes widened, brows turning upward in the saddest display of puppy eyes. "C'mon, Jack, you know I didn't mean to. I had a billion things on my mind this morning."

Jackie shook her head, yanking her rake out of the ground. "No, I shouldn't be talking to you like you're a kid. Sorry, Benny." Her face smoothed out, a small smile curling at the corner of her lip. "Let's take care of whatever the hell that is and get out of Dodge." She jutted a thumb towards the carnivorous birds. They had migrated closer to the two of them during their spat, hovering only a dozen feet overhead.

The two rangers were tasked with clearing out the overgrown shrubbery that crept along the [trail name] trail. After hours of backbreaking work under the sun, they had it back to tip-top shape, allowing the path to be seen properly by hikers. While not the ideal task at the park, Jackie preferred being in nature over being yelled at by summer holiday campers at the trailheads and welcome center. The primary downside of working the trails was the inevitability of coming across something dead or finding yet another problem that needed fixing.

"Five bucks it's just a squirrel again," Benny laughed, giving Jackie her fan back and looking much cooler than before.

"I don't know. Four buzzards for one squirrel?" She took the lead, heading into a thicket of trees with her eyes on the birds.

"Maybe, there's been a lot of weird animal things going on lately."

"Maybe."

He wasn't wrong. Jackie had seen a few strange events since summer began. She chocked it up to the summer heat. It was at least ten degrees warmer than last July, and the Wildlife Biology team pointed out that animals were avoiding human contact in larger numbers than in previous seasons. The animals that did interact with humans tended to be far more aggressive than usual, too.

Jackie trembled thinking about her run in with an emaciated bear cub in early spring. How its eyes were caked in puss and mouth dripping with a sickly yellow foam. Rabies, the biologists told her, and abandoned by its mother. But she had never seen bear cubs act like that before - or look like that. It attacked her like it had a grudge against her personally, not like it was hungry.

"Jackie?" Benny's voice behind her grew quiet, nearly a whisper. She took pause, drawing her gaze away from the gaps in the tree canopy. A twig snapped ahead of them. The thick scent of vomit hit her like a ton of bricks. There, in a small clearing among the overgrowth, stood a human. A man, on the heavier side, back hunched slightly and head down like he was sleeping while standing upright. Flies buzzed past her ear, zooming towards the fresh feast of vomit at the man's sandled feet. She swallowed a gag, standing up straighter. If the man noticed their presence, he didn't acknowledge them.

Jackie cleared her throat. "Sir? Are you lost? This trail is closed for maintenance and it's advised that you stick to the path." She used her 'teacher voice' as JJ called it. A mix of disappointment and authority that usually steered park guests in the right direction.

The man's head lulled from side to side, slow and methodical, before lifting. He looked over his shoulder at them, eyes wet and face ghostly white. He blinked, as if he saw through them. "Sorry..." he croaked. His words had the cadence of someone whose tongue was too large for their mouth.

"Do you need medical attention?" Jackie prodded, using a gentler tone. She stepped a few paces closer, Benny staying back.

"Little Bear to Papa Bear, we have a situation out on [trail name]." He muttered into his walkie talkie. "Can we get medical out here, over."

"No." The man's head wavered again and he ran a fist over his eyes. A thick goo stuck to his skin, a bit of it dribbling down his cheek. "Just tired. Where am I?"

"You're near the trail, don't worry." Jackie motioned for him to follow them back towards safety. "Let's get you some water, we have a team headed this way that will get you back to your camp, okay?"

'Papa Bear to Little Bear, medic is on their way, over.'

The stranger shuffled his feet, moving like he was attached to weights and moving through water. When he turned, Jackie noticed the front of his shirt was covered in sweat from collar to belly button. How long had he been standing out in he heat? She tried not to curl her nose in disgust as he hacked up some more bile. It landed between them in a thick puddle.

"Careful, now. Did you know you were sick, sir?"

"Jus'a cold." he followed slowly, just behind Jackie. Benny took the lead back to the trail, straying as far away from the stranger as possible. "Not even that sick."

"Well, we'll let our med team decide that."

Folks who were interested when I posted about sharing a snippet: @draculinawrites @antique-symbolism

#itws short #itws

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