Please water my crops with submissive!Newt( I know Newt’s technically the alpha male, but like, guilty pleasures)
hoooooooo damn alright so just so you know, I had some help because yo girl is questioning her sexuality ahaha, ha. I went with newtmas since you didn’t specify what ship you wanted! i hope that’s alright.
OKAY SO NEWTMAS IS 20 YEARS OLD IN THIS I DON’T MAKE THE RULES,,,
It’s night time in the Scorch, the group has set up separate tents for themselves around a bonfire.
Thomas decides to check on Newt every night because he low key fears that Newt will be taken away from him like Minho was a few months ago.
Newt immediately understood the reason for Thomas doing this so he let it slide. they usually say “we’ll find him” and “good night” to each other before Thomas goes back to his own tent.
Newt doesn’t show it because he knows Thomas needs him, but he has been growing increasingly worried about rescuing Minho.
this stress has made Newt’s leg hurt a lot more recently, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Thomas. He can see the way Newt is slowing down as he walks and how frequently he needs to rest his leg.
When Thomas visits Newt that night, he sees him wincing as he moves.
“Hey, Newt, are you okay?” Newt shrugs it off and tells him not to worry, but Thomas knows better and ignores him. “Can I…can I help?”
Thomas makes Newt recline, his back supported by the bag he had discovered in the mall when the group first explored the Scorch on their own
Newt winces the second Thomas’ fingertips ghost over his skin, not from pain or because they were cold. Rather, it was as if Thomas had sent small bouts of electricity into his leg, leaving Newt’s skin burning from his touch.
Thomas starts to apply pressure gently, massaging his calf and moving upwards towards his knee. He looks up at Newt through his eyelashes frequently to make sure he isn’t hurting him, and Newt switches his own gaze from Thomas to his slender fingers several times, becoming mesmerized in their moving expertly along his muscles and leaving fires in their wake. The one time they make eye contact, Thomas is the first to look away.
Thomas’ hands move higher, massaging over his knee and just above, rubbing Newt’s skin in circular motions with his thumbs.
His movements start to slow accompanied by the slightest increase in pressure as he moves up his thigh.
Newt didn’t know when his eyes had fallen shut. All he knew was that it was getting harder to keep them open.
Thomas keeps going. His fingers are dangerously high now, and they both know this. Except Newt is too relaxed to care.
Thomas is so close to Newt’s inner thigh – Newt can feel his hesitance as he rubs the same spot three times and refuses to touch him there. skipping over it and going back down whenever he gets too close.
A thought occurs to Thomas. Why is he looking up at Newt so much? At first he thought it was because he was worried about hurting him, but the harder he pressed and the slower he moved his fingers, he realized that that wasn’t the only reason.
Thomas moves back up and glides his thumbs along Newt’s inner thigh dreadfully slowly and with gentle added pressure.
Newt suddenly lets a deep moan escape his lips. His eyes immediately shoot open and all the heat rushes to his face.
Newt’s breaths are deep and surprisingly controllable and they just stare at each other, mouths hanging slightly open in shock and arousal.
“Stop, Tommy. Please.” He silently curses himself. He knows Thomas can see right through his empty words. Thomas knows that isn’t what Newt wants. Newt’s eyes are pleading, and this is the longest Thomas has maintained eye contact with him since he stepped foot into his tent.
Thomas’ eyes shift downwards, landing on Newt’s hard on. When he looks back up, he finds that Newt’s gaze is still glued onto him.
He would still ask for permission because he cArES
Thomas’ fingers slowly travel up Newt’s inner thigh to cup his hard on through his pants, Newt’s eyes fluttering closed as he visibly shudders and lets out a sharp sigh.
things esCaLaTE and soon Newt’s hands are bound above his head with his shirt, and Thomas uses Newt’s scarf to gag him so he won’t make anymore sounds and wake the others. His guttural and animalistic yet desperate moans are muffled, but when Newt starts to whimper his name, Thomas removes the scarf.
While Thomas is on top, he cups Newt’s hands in one of his own. He’s cautious of Newt’s leg at all times, making sure to ask him if it hurts, if he so much as sees him flinch or his face contorts in any way.
Once, Thomas accidentally bumps his knee against Newt’s leg and watches in horror as Newt flinches. That had become an automated response to anything but Newt’s own hands coming into contact with his leg. A second after it happened, Thomas’ movements stilled and eyebrows furrowed in concern – Newt realized it didn’t hurt. Or maybe it did but he didn’t notice, because he was with Thomas, and that was all that mattered to him in this moment.
Newt would look him straight in the eyes with as much softness and seriousness as he could muster, “Keep going.”
Newt being in a state of total euphoria, Thomas sits back to admire his fluttering lashes, his muscular chest heaving with every ragged breath, desperate whispers of “Tommy” leaving his lips as if silence would make this moment disappear and Newt did not want that.
A shuddering gasp betrays Newt as it flutters out from between his lips. He hears himself whimper under his breath, fire coursing through his veins as mind-numbing pleasure shoots through his body.
wHAT IN THE HFKFHSFNL DID I JUST wrITE
@overglorified-trash @newthomally @newtmos @comebacknow @seaselkie @demented-russian-empress-of-hell @harveylovesmike @thomas–newt @illuminateandrelate
This was a team effort, thanks friends!!
I hope I rehydrated your crops!
