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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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jasmines-library · 5 months

Note

Could you maybe write a platonic Damian x sibling reader (younger but not hy like a lot). And they had a nightmare and go to Damian in the middle of the night. And they're scared that he's gonna get mad that they woke him up, but they didn't know who else to go to

No pressure, of course!! I hope you have a wonderful day/night/afternoon or whatev!!! 🫶🫶🫶

Hold Me Like A Grudge

Summary: Ever since you joined your father at his home, Damian Wayne had despised you. He tries to spend his time as far away from you as possible, until one night you seek comfort in him after a nightmare and everything changes. (gn reader :))

Note: Thanks for requesting lovely! this was so cute to write and a much needed break from the angst for you all (kinda...)

Warnings: Being ignored by Dami, nightmares, none really it's a fluffy fic!

Word count: 1.4k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Damian had never been one for comforting tendencies. He often chose to seclude himself away in a corner, brooding in his own self pity or grumbling about his early-teenage misery. Apparently it had gotten worse since you arrived; having another sibling to pester him didn’t sit well on his behalf, so each time the sound of your small feet pattered into the room, he would turn his gaze away or collect his belongings that he had strewn across the room and left. You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to receive the silent treatment from Damian. Dick, the eldest of the bunch, had tried to reassure you that it was nothing personal. That he had acted that way towards him when he first arrived sending his cold glares from across the room or barging past him in the hallways, but something about the way his face contorted and his lip twitched revealed something else.

Damian Wayne was jealous. Despite the fact he would rather die than admit it, he couldn’t stand having someone else in his way. You were his biological half sister. The only other person related to the one and only Bruce Wayne. And he hated you for it. He hated Bruce for it. He hated himself for hating it, but that didn’t stop his grudge from lingering. It didn’t help that your charm meant you got along with the rest of the boys better than he did; you had shown them kindness where he had shown them coldness.

When Bruce told him that he was responsible for you whilst the others were out on patrol he did very little to hide his disdain; rolling his eyes and stomping off to his room but not before snarling at you as he pushed past.

The manor was eerily quiet that night. It was dark and without the obnoxiously loud antics of your older brothers the place felt empty. Damian was off sulking somewhere and Alfred was monitoring the computers so you were left alone to navigate the endless rooms and high ceilings. You hadn’t been at the manor long so you were still a bit unsteady when it came to navigating the maze of walls but without anyone to help you when you turned a wrong corner, it took you much longer than it should have to find your room. There were a few lights on in the halls, but all of the rooms were dark and vast and the condensation building up on the cold glass didn’t help your feeling of unease. A shiver crawled down your back and you tugged the hem of your hoodie over your hands. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief when you pushed open the door and collapsed onto your bed, burying yourself under the sheets and squeezing your eyes tightly.

Sleep didn’t come easy, much to your dismay. There were too many odd sounds drifting through the house; something clicking, the wind whipping around outside, tree branches tapping on the glass, a dripping tap in your bathroom that stopped for a few blissful minutes before starting up again with a monotonous tempo. Tucking your knees and head to your chest you tried to bury yourself deeper into the bed and drown out the sounds that to someone who had lived there a while wouldn’t even bat an eye at.

When your tired body finally dragged sleep into it’s clutches it was restless. You tossed and turned with a furrowed brow. The images were dark and disturbing; twisted figures of your new family being captured, of strange figure looming over you in the dark reaching out a cold, bony hand that could have easily been mistaken for a claw until it was only inches away from, reaching and reaching until the icy digits brushed the surface of your skin.

You shot up, kicking off the sheets and clutching your skin where the hand had touched you; you could have sworn you could still feel it there so cold that it felt as though it were going to burn a hole into your delicate skin. Tears rolled fat and ugly down your cheek and your forced yourself out of bed with trembling legs. Your feet carried you down the hall and before you knew it had planted you outside of Damian’s room. Like the others it was dark and silent, but you knew it was his. You had walked past it too many times, itching to just catch a chance of talking to him. Despite your state, your hand hovered above the frame unable to bring yourself to knock. What if he yelled at you or turned you away like he usually does? You supposed you could go and find Alfred instead- no. He was busy. The idea was gone from your head almost as soon as it had appeared and with a shaky sob you rapped your knuckles against his door.

“What do you want-”

He opened the door much quicker than you thought he would. His jostled hair and cantankerous stare loomed over you, but he changed very unexpectedly when he noticed your sobbing and dewy eyes. Without thinking twice you wrapped your arms around him bawling into his chest. His body relaxed slightly as he frowned sympathetically, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you closer to him. It was odd even to him that there was something special about the moment. Damian wrapped you and led you over to his messy bed, settling you on the edge. The dampness that has seeped into the middle of his shirt didn’t bother him as he crouched down on his toes in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, uncharacteristically tenderly.

“I…i-” You stuttered trying to force the story out but only failing which just ended up causing a fresh bout of tears to fall.

The boy cupped your hands in his, getting your attention. Tilting your head up, you saw his softened gaze.

“Calm down, kiddo. You’re okay.” He gave you a gentle nod of reassurance.

It took a few moments but soon your blubbering slowed into something of a calm, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup that pushed it way past your lips.

“That’s it kid.” He rubbed your back “You’re okay.”

“I’m so-rry.” You hiccupped. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

This made Damian pause as a feeling of being humbled washed over him.

“Tt. Why would I be mad?”

“Because I woke you up.” You pushed yourself up to stand, wiping away tears and making your way to the door. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“Oh..y/n…”

Everything seemed to hit Damian all at once. He had been so caught up in his own jealousy that he had completely refused to think about how you felt and it occurred to him that you had so much more in common. You were a scared kid who had just been thrown amongst the most complicated family in Gotham. You were in need of love and guidance and he had failed to do that. The dark haired boy began to feel very guilty. It was his responsibility as your older brother to show you the ropes and he had point blank refused.

He pushed himself up and settled down on the bed gesturing for you to follow. For a moment he thought that he had completely ruined everything; that you were going to leave and just suffer in silence albeit you walked over to the bed and perched on the end enjoying the way that the memory foam sank down slowly around you.

“I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you. It was selfish of me, I understand now that-”

“It’s okay.” You cut him off with a smile.

He nodded contently and pulled you into a hug.

After a while you meekly broke the silence. “Dami?”

“Mmh?”

“Can I stay here tonight? Please?”

Damian grinned down as his little sibling proudly for the first time since you had arrived. He then shuffled across the bed and opened up the duvet for you to clamber in next to him. He slung an arm over you protectively.

“You can stay whenever you need, Little Bat.”

#batfam x reader #batfam x little sister reader #batfam x little brother reader #Batfam x little sibling reader #damian wayne x sister reader #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x brother reader #Damian Wayne x sibiling reader #hurt/comfort #nightmares #jealousy #batfam fanfic #cute #fluffy

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aweina · 6 months

Text

ᰔ. a gift for you : sub-zero. scorpion + smoke.

there was an array of young flowers tucked between the glossy leaves, warm paper lanterns guide you through the maze of flora. there’s water colored butterflies sipping the nectar of your favorite flowers, the scent of honey and earth soothing your nerves. bi-han has gifted you a greenhouse. considering the fact that the lin kuei palace contains lots of open land to train on — it was fitting to add something less grueling and tense. he directly thought about you, encased with delicate, floral pieces as you beam at the variations of flowers and other greenery you always mentioned during your afternoon walks. it started off with short nods, listening intently to your frantic words with amusement. then he’d silently gift you engraved pots filled with young flowers and all the needed tools to build a lively collection of plants. that didn’t seem enough. the grandmaster always had urges for something more, something greater, that he also applied it to you or rather, your fondness over flowers. since the freezing climate wasn’t so fitting for sun enriched plants, constructing a greenhouse would be fitting and also, fulfilling for him to do in secret. it was hard work to pull it off. there were times you nearly spotted it in the middle of its development and your suspicion towards bi-han’s sudden interest in flora made him sweat icicles, but it was all worth seeing your radiant smile in the end. for now on, he’ll find you within the maze of bustling blossoms — individually nurturing them with love and care and amusingly talking to the clusters of flora like little children. at that the thought of your happiness, he smiled under his mask.

the parchment felt light and airy in your grasp, but much more of them were tied with a silk string — each individually sealed with set red wax, blotches of little lighthearted notes and tea stains smudged along the handcrafted envelopes. they smelt faintly of sweet herbs and dried ink. kuai liang has gifted you a collection of love letters. it all started when he met you, his usual writing was put off for his lin kuei duties, leaving the pens to dry off and the stacks of parchment to pile dust bunnies. then your gentle presence gave him a boost to write small notes in the middle of the night. the adorning look you would give him would make him write paragraphs with such ease, leaving a shade of blotched blue all over his palm. then your contagious laughter and assuring gaze made a mountain of neatly crafted love letters in the corner of his usual tidy room. along the ink read his first impressions of you, the beautiful details that you missed about yourself, lengths of innocent admiration, and millions of confessions about how much he loves you. each letter had little surprises tucked between the pages. a frail cherry blossom petal when you both first trained together. colored origami animals that you spotted during missions. he kept them all as a sign of his love — dedication towards you. watching you carefully unfold himself with gentle hands, he safely locks the image of your big grin and droplets of joyful tears in his memory for another love letter.

the glimmering of delicate light reflected over the bare walls, adding a pretty iridescence on the wallpaper. clashes of soft yellow, with pastel greens and pinks made your skin twinkle under the sun. the silhouette of a dainty butterfly floated through the air. tomas has gifted you a sun catcher. the warm village of fengjian had pockets of small businesses. crowded bookstores, fragile porcelain shops, and fresh produce stands. he didn’t have any personal feelings towards these stores, rather he wanted something more personal — made with his own hands and heart. that’s when he finds a workshop filled with dozens of personal projects, unfinished ceramics and even glass bracelets. then he eyes a mesmerizing piece, a sun catcher. it reminded him how you seem to unintentionally fill every room you’re in with light, how you always impressively shined through the bitter ash of his magic — winning every spar between the two of you. the process of making a sun catcher was meticulous, melting down metal small rods together, inserting colored glass with clear precision but with very nervous hands. tomas finishes off the butterfly piece with a string of patterned beads that he collected when you both visited different villages. a crescent moon dangling at the end to represent him — your opposite, your midnight protector. there’s instant relief when you beamed ever so brightly at your handcrafted gift. he helped you hang it by your window, the glimmer of reflection blinding the both of you for a second. then he sits with you, explaining the meaning of each individual bead and glass — while your smile brightens the whole room.

add. note : the alt title would’ve been ‘if he wanted to he would’, but i’ll refrain from men slander for now (`ー´) …

#.୨୧ ina writes #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #scorpion x reader #kuai liang x reader #bi han x reader #subzero x reader

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sailoryooons · 3 months

Text

Spider Web | JHS | (m)

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Hoseok x human!reader (afab)

☾ Summary: Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse.

☾ Word Count: 1,976

☾ Genre: Supernatural, Predator/Prey, Established Relationship, Smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Predator/prey dynamics, intense feelings of fear, reader is navigating a maze while unable to see at all, Hoseok taunting reader, minor injuries, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, biting, dom/sub dynamics, subspace, feeling fear during sex, reader being both afraid and aroused and just going with it, implied relationship of some manner.

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This might not be for everyone, but this is for me. This is not only self-indulgent but it was so fun to write. The third roll for the 100 Drabble Challenge was number 46 - Predator/Prey and I had the opportunity to do something that surprised me - write a piece of a universe that I’ve wanted to write since I was in middle school. You heard that right - I have an entire outline/idea of a dystopian vampire novel where vampires rule and humans live under them with a complex political structure and rebel human groups and class war etc. that I have wanted to write since middle school and when I rolled this tonight… I was like what if I just use that world. In that world there are vampire guards call The Web that are broken up into three categories: Spiders, Widows and Venoms and they all have different purposes. In this case, Hobi is a Spider :) I’ve considered turning it into a fic so… let me know if you’re interested odigjdoigjdofgij

A/N 2: This is unedited and I wrote it in roughly an hour pls excuse the errors etc. I will look back over it in the morning and fix them okay soifjsoigj

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout,” a voice echoes. Your heart slams in your chest as you press your fingers against the sides of the wall, trying to feel your way through the maze. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

You should be used to the dark. Your life has revolved around the dark from the moment you took your first breath. Born in the dead of night during the hour of the predator. As a kid, you didn’t quite understand the hour of the predator. All you knew was that it meant to stay inside and not leave the building no matter what.

When you were older, you learned that walls and locks do not keep out predators. The notion that they keep their hunt to a single hour of the night is ridiculous. Now you know that vampires only let people think that they’re safe outside of that single hour of every night.

Like everything in the city, it is an illusion.

Inhaling shakily, you try to calm your breathing. The thud of your pulse in your neck and the rattling of your heart in your ribcage is a dead giveaway to this predator. Fear puts you on a razor's edge. A tingling sensation skitters along your skin like static as you keep one hand against the wall and the other in front of you, each step careful.

You can’t see in the darkness of the maze. He can.

The disadvantage isn’t far. He’s better than you at most things: sight, smell, speed, strength - sadism, to be sure. But still, you’ve managed to evade him for far longer than he would like, and despite his taunting, you know it’s irritating him.

You smile. For vampires, most things are prey. For Spiders, all things are.

“Perhaps we should change the lyrics of the song,” Hoseok calls. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. He sounds only a few rows over, making you quicken your steps. You’re barefoot and the ground is cold, making you shiver as you go. “The Spider doesn’t get washed out, but the little human does.”

The hand reaching in front of you hits the wall. You inhale and turn left, letting your right hand skim the corner and press against the new wall. You’ve hit a dead end twice and lost your sense of direction, but Hoseok hasn’t caught up yet.

The thought makes you grin. You’re better at these games than you used to be, and you’re able to make faster decisions now. You also have managed to learn a thing or two about vampires. Somewhere, your socks and shoes are sitting in other corners. You’ve also dropped a jacket, making the entire maze smell like you.

“Ah, the mouse has left a shoe for me.”

Your heart beats faster. You only dropped that shoe moments ago, which means Hoseok is close. Too close. You’re not even sure what will happen if he wins - it’s always different.

“I hear your heart, Mouse.”

The momentary panic makes you walk into a wall, banging loudly. Hoseok laugh is carried down a maze hall, chilling your spine. You throat caution to the wind, breaking into a run though you cannot see anything around you.

In the dark, colors and shapes taunt you, your imagination filling in the gaps for the things you cannot see. Running wild totally unable to see is a terrible idea, you could run into-

You slam into a wall and let out a pained sound. Pain shoots up your wrist and you whimper, cradling it to your hand. A hiss echoes behind you and you run again, bad hand tucked to your chest as Hoseok closes in.

“Yes!” he growls, glee in his dark voice. “Run, Mouse! I love it when you run!”

You hardly recognize his voice through the growl, bloodlust taking over. Your instincts perceive a wall and you jerk to the left, skidding as you go. A speck of light beckons you and you gasp, realizing you can see the way out of the maze. You never make it that far.

Without hesitation, you take off at a full sprint, the soles of your feet slapping against concrete, your heart pumping in your chest. Just a little further, almost there.

Hoseok snarls behind you and you scream, a primal fear exploding inside of you as your instincts sense the danger behind you, all other thoughts and feelings blotted out by the sheer force of terror.

A force crashes into you, taking you down. You squeeze your eyes shut, jarred and waiting for the harsh impact of the concrete. It doesn’t come, instead softened by the blow of falling into Hoseok as he twists, taking the brunt of the impact.

You’re dizzy, world spinning as the adrenaline tingles in your veins, your entire body feeling like it’s on pins and needles. In the dim light of the concrete building, you make out the shape of Hoseok under you. It doesn’t last long, the vampire rolling and pinning you with an ironclad grip to the floor.

A cry slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. It riles him up, Hoseok pressing in on you. He smells like rosewood and lavender, making your eyes flutter as Hoseok pulls your head backward against the old concrete, your skull digging in painfully as he noses your pulse.

“You lose, Mouse.”

Hoseok’s voice rasps against your throat. Fear-laced pleasure blooms in your stomach. Where his mouth ghosts against your sweaty skin feels good, his words buzzing through you as his lips skim your neck toward your jaw.

You don’t dare move - can’t move. This is the part that you don’t understand, but don’t have to. Your body thrums with the innate terror of death. Adrenaline pumps through your system, parts of your brain screaming and alerting your organs that you’re in danger.

But there’s another part of your brain that goes fuzzy when you feel Hoseok’s fangs drag against your jaw. You can’t make out his features in the barely-there light of the building, but you catch the silver flash of predator's eyes when he glances up at you.

Once upon a time that gaze made you nearly soil yourself in horror. Now the wetness between your legs is entirely different, caused by the hell your nervous system goes through as it straddles fear and desire.

“I smell you,” Hoseok breathes. His tongue snakes out to taste your salty skin and you can’t help the sound that comes out of your throat. It is equal parts a whimper as it is a moan. His lips are pressed against your cheekbone as one of his hands skims down your body. “You almost made it out this time.”

The ability to verbalize anything is lost on you. You can only squirm underneath his touch, sparking to life like cut livewires. A violent shiver wracks through your body as Hoseok presses his hands between your legs, causing a pulse of want to unfurl.

You want more. You want none of it. You want both.

“Next time try dropping your panties,” he whispers, pressing hard, painful kisses toward your ear. He bites your earlobe sharply at the same time he presses your clothed cunt, plain and pleasure dancing together. “That would certainly do it.”

“Never thought of that.”

Hoseok’s hand ventures up and grabs the waistband of your pants, pulling on them with a loud rip. It’s almost drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

Your limbs start to shake in excitement as Hoseok catches your mouth with his. The kiss is sudden and demanding, completely inescapable. You kiss him back, drowning in the flurry of sensations hammering down on you, scrambling your thoughts, destroying your feelings.

It’s always like this. He’s always able to do this. Hoseok has made an art of building you up and cutting you open, scattering every thought to the wind as he hunts you and beds you. Here with him you might not be safe, but at least you don’t think about being out there and being unsafe.

This spider web you weave with Hoseok is high stakes, high reward. At least here if he kills you, you’ll be smiling. Out there when you die, no one will care.

Hoseok’s fingers hook your underwear to the side and pull. Cold air hits your hot, weeping hunt and you wiggle under him, trapped under his oppressive weight. He half growls, half purs as his fingers swipe up your sticky folds, avoiding your clit where all the pressure feels trapped.

You kick your feet under him, pressing up. You want more. Need more. The more he gives you, the more you feel the high of whatever this is between you. Hoseok knows this and gives in, playing nice as his fingers dip into your clenching hole to collect wetness before drifting back up, circling your clit.

A sound that is barely human escapes you. Hoseok has you pinned firmly underneath him as he starts to play. He carefully drags his fingers up and down, tracing your tightening entrance before drifting back up to apply pressure on your bundle of nerves.

“Little mouse is desperate tonight,” Hoseok pants. When he speaks, you can feel the sharp drag of his fangs on your cheek. “I bet you wanted to be caught.”

You shake your head no and he laughs, sinking a finger into your waiting heat. A strangled moan escapes you. Everything is on fire and you feel your cunt clench around his fingers. The concrete beneath you is too hot, Hoseok is too firm, his fangs on your skin are too sharp, you’re half afraid and half aroused - it all turns you into a mess, your mind tiptoeing on the edge of a blade between two nameless abysses.

Hoseok thrusts his fingers up into you at an angle, pushing against that spot that makes you teeter dangerously. Your nails dig into your palms, leaving bloody crescents as Hoseok fucks you expertly with his fingers, drawing you to the edge of madness as he does it.

Just as you think you’re about to tip one way or the other and plunge into darkness, Hoseok presses his mouth against yours, words slurred as he mumbles, “Ask.”

“Please.” Your words are slurred against his mouth, your breath hot and sticky. “Please let me. I need it. I - Hoseok - please.”

His pace quickens. His thumb presses on your clit, wiggling. You feel it coming like a spool spinning thread, going and going and going until the spindle snaps and the thread comes unwound, spilling into his hand with a scream.

Your ears ring. Your mind blanks. Your body goes so taught that it's only option is to go limp. You are vaguely aware that you’re gasping for air - you feel it more than you see it. You melt into the ground, unaware of anything but the static in your veins and the rush of air through your lungs.

In out. In out. In out. In out.

You drift in the abyss. You’re unsure which one you fell into. Here, you are weightless and calm.

In out. In out. In out.

Nothing can hurt you here. There is no such thing as pain. There is only absolutely nothing but your breath and the buzzing on your skin.

In out. In out. In out.

Eventually it wears off. Hoseok is still a firm weight against you, an anchor pulling you back. Your thoughts are syrup-slow and dizzy when you lift your too-heavy head to look at him. You cannot make out his features, but you get the sense he’s smiling.

“Did you think we were done?” he rasps, a laugh in his voice. “You’ve only just fallen into the spiderweb, Mouse.”

#hobi smut #hoseok smut #j hope smut #bts smut #hobi fic #hobi fanfic #hoseok fic #hobi x reader #hoseok x reader #vampire hobi #bts fanfic #hoseok x you #100 drabble challenge #okay but like trying to do j hope hobi hoseok tags is wild please why must i name him thrice

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gimmethatagustd · 6 months

Note

Lmao nobody sent a Halloween drabble request for hobi? It's cause we all know he'll decline immediately for whatever the reader / character-opposite-hobi suggests that he knows will eventually lead to something halloween-y or scary

He'll either-

1. Give you the side eye and judge you so hard that you drop the idea yourself.

2. Give you his dance-teacher-stern-look and you'll combust into flames.

3. Fuck you so good against the kitchen counter that you forget what you were talking about.

The only monster Hoseok wishes you were interested in finding this Halloween season is his monster c–

↳ pairing: hoseok x reader

↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | established relationship | halloween | smut

↳ wc/date: 948 | October 2023

↳ warnings: hoseok got a BIG DICK yessir he do, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, spanking, punishments, dom!hoseok, sub!reader, no gendered language

↳ notes: i actually managed to write a drabble this time hskjdfhks like a real deal drabble. less than 1k i'm shocked 😭

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? spookie coochie - doechii

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

“I’m not going.”

“Hobiiiiii, baby, please.”

“Jimin did this to me before already!” Hoseok waggles his finger in your direction with a deep pout that tugs down his usually heart-shaped mouth. “Got me drunk and made me go to this scary abandoned house in the mountains! In the middle of the night! And Yoongi hyung didn’t even stop him. I almost pissed my pants, I was so scared.”

You curl your lips inward to stop yourself from laughing. Stifling the sound only somewhat works; air rushes out of your mouth and makes your lips flutter obnoxiously loud.

“It isn’t funny!” Hoseok whines. The look of betrayal on his face is so severe that it leaves worry lines on his forehead.

You only feel a little bit bad.

Taking a step forward, you loosely wrap your arms around Hoseok’s waist. You try to take his coffee mug out of his hand to place on the kitchen counter behind you, but he holds it out of reach above his head.

“I’m not gonna take you to a scary abandoned house in the mountains. I just wanna take you to a corn maze.”

“A haunted corn maze. Full of murderers and monsters.” He looks at you pointedly as he takes a sip of his coffee.

You’re trying to be sexy when you lean forward to run your nose along his neck, stopping to nuzzle just below his ear, but you can’t help the snort that comes out of you. The image of Hoseok fast-walking through walls of corn with trembling knees, falling all over himself when a zombie pops out of a dark corner, is too much for you to take.

“You’re being so mean to me right now.”

“I’m s-sorry,” you choke out. Your teeth press against the soft spot beneath his ear as you try not to laugh. It’s supposed to be a kiss, but you can’t stop smiling.

Hoseok’s fingers grip your jaw and pull your face away from the crook of his neck. His hold is tight but not uncomfortable. The heat of his hand that had previously held the coffee makes goosebumps rise along your forearms.

“Are you trying to upset me?”

The rocky edge of Hoseok’s voice makes you shudder. He forces you to look at him while his eyes search your face for remorse you can’t give him.

“No,” you lie with twitching lips.

You don’t know why this is so funny. It shouldn’t be. There’s nothing funny about how Hoseok watches you with a taunt jaw that ripples when he bites down on his molars.

“Turn around.”

Aw, shit.

“Hobi,” you start, but Hoseok taps his finger against your lips to shut you up.

“All I wanted was to have a nice morning with you,” Hoseok’s voice is deceptively soft against the shell of your ear. His chest is pressed to your back so he can hook his chin over your shoulder. His hands are gentle as they slip beneath the loose legs of your pajama shorts to palm your ass.

“All I wanted was for you to go on a date with me.” You lean back into his touch and squeeze the edge of the kitchen counter. “Now you’re being a baby.”

Hoseok lets out a quiet huff as he rips your shorts down your thighs. “Now you’re being a brat.”

He makes you count.

You act like it doesn’t excite you every time his palm collides with your sensitive skin like you don’t love how the force makes your ass jiggle and makes Hoseok’s breath ragged in your ear.

“If I’m good, will you go with me?” you ask with an airy voice that ends in a whimper. Your clit throbs, and you want to squeeze your thighs together, but Hoseok keeps your legs parted with his knees. Your arousal smears across his thigh when he presses against you, soaking a wet spot in his black jeans.

“If you’re good, I’ll fuck you.”

Ten feels good, a hot tingle that spreads across both ass cheeks and ripples down your thighs.

Twenty makes you cry.

“Please.” You’re completely draped over the counter now, your front pressed against the cool marble. Every slap sends your body jolting forward; there’s nothing to hold onto to ground yourself.

“Are you sorry?”

You nod frantically as Hoseok’s fingers slip through your slippery folds, gently swirling the pads around your clit before dragging down until he dips into your entrance. It’s hard to stand upright when he plunges two fingers inside you and presses down.

“Fuck,” you moan, resting your forehead on the counter.

“Are you gonna make me go to the scary fucking corn maze?”

Over your heavy breathing, you can hear Hoseok’s belt buckle being undone.

“No, no, I’m not.” You lick drool from the corner of your mouth when the thick head of Hoseok’s cock nudges your swollen clit. “I’ll take Namjoon instead.”

A brutal slap lands on your ass while Hoseok buries his cock fully inside you. The two abrupt sensations knock the wind out of you, and you can’t even cry out.

“Be nice,” Hoseok says between thrusts that make your already sore and raw skin tingle.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling when Hoseok’s arm curls around your chest. He hauls you up to bring your back flush against his chest as he thrusts up into you. You turn your head to the side because you know what he wants and let his lips capture yours in a bruising embrace.

“I love you, you fucking scaredy cat.”

“I love you, too. Brat,” Hoseok moans against your lips. His teeth bite at your bottom lip when he smiles.

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#halloween 2023 #borabitsch #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #spookie coochie

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amomentsescape · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can i ask for #4 and #9 with bubba, and #6 with (RZ) Michael please? Totally fine if you'd rather not, I just enjoy how you write them 🫶

October 2023 Halloween Prompt List

Bubba Sawyer x Reader, RZ! Michael Myers x Reader

A/N: I was able to squeeze your request in, so no worries! :)

Bubba Sawyer

#4: Going to a haunted house attraction

Surprisingly, this is his first time going

Even more surprisingly, the attraction seems to get to him a bit

Chasing and attacking random people? Totally cool

Having some adult jump out and scream at you? Not so much

Bubba can't help but get a bit fidgety while waiting in line

Partly from the actors, but also from the fact that he rarely interacts with other people that aren't his family or you

And once you guys are actually in the attraction, oh boy

Every jump scare and sound causes Bubba to let out squeaks and grunts

He grips onto your hand so tightly

You think he's going to rip your arm off the first half of the house

However, things take a turn when you enter one of the themed rooms

There are fake guts hanging from the ceiling, "dead" people sitting at the dining table

There was even fake blood dried on the floor

When Bubba saw this, he froze

You thought something was wrong until he let out a couple giggles

This soon turned into huge fits of laughter

Even the actor in the room looked confused

Bubba grabbed at one of the gut props and wiggled it around, looking at you before laughing in hysterics again

It was his way of telling you "I know what this is actually supposed to look like, and it's not this"

After that room, Bubba was a lot more relaxed

Some of the jump scares and costumes still got to him, but he felt more comfortable knowing that everything was indeed fake

Once you guys made it through the house, Bubba took both of your hands and bounced around happily

It was clear he had fun

And who would have guessed that Bubba would be scared of a man dressed as a demon and not of a room decked out in gore?

Go figure

#9: Costume shopping

The moment you even suggested going somewhere together, Bubba was all ears

He isn't exactly the biggest fan of people, but he loves spending time with you

Plus, Halloween was a bit more special

He could walk around happily in his mask and not feel judged

Besides, you were going to a costume shop anyways

No one was going to say a thing

When you both first walked in, Bubba was taken aback by the amount of clothing in the building

He didn't even know where to begin

Luckily, he had you to grab his hand and lead him around the place

He was very intrigued with all the mask options

Of course, they weren't as "genuine" as his, but he thought the different colors and monsters were cool

He also liked turning on all the animatronics and decorative lights (although a few made him jump)

When you walk by the "adult" section of the store, his eyes go wide

You may not be able to fully see it, but his face is beet red under his mask

You even tease him a bit by picking one of them up and swinging it around, acting like you were considering buying it

He stayed pretty close to you after that

But eventually, you both found some cute couples' costumes to try

He likes the idea of matching with you

You guys don't end up buying a costume, but you did leave with a few string lights and the promise to come back later

Michael Myers

#6: Going through a corn maze

This behemoth of a man isn't exactly going to get lost in one of these

He can literally see over every stalk of corn

And even if that wasn't the case, his sense of direction was ridiculous

You could put him in the middle of the forest and he'd find his way home

So when you first suggested going, he just looked at you

Walking through a bunch of crops? Why would he want to do that?

But you insisted on going and talked about it so excitedly that Michael gave in

The last thing he wanted was to have you all disappointed and sad

He cares about you in his own way

But his one stipulation was that it had to be just you two

So you managed to find a corn maze in the middle of nowhere

Michael just let you lead him wherever once you got there

Even if he knew you were basically going around in circles, he just let you drag him along

He didn't want to ruin your fun, even if he was bored

Watches you touch all the corn and pick up little stones

He even lets you hold his hand as you trudge your way through

You eventually have to break down and ask for his help though

There was no way you were going to make it out on your own

And without even needing to look, he simply points which direction to go

Secretly likes you depending on him for these types of things

#slasher imagines #slasher fandom #slashers preference #slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #bubba leatherface #leatherface #the texas chainsaw massacre #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #rz michael myers #rz halloween #halloween #halloween movie

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the-travelling-witch · 6 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐦: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

pairing: suna x reader

prompt: corn maze

haikyuu!! masterlist || hollysm event

“Let’s face it: We’re lost.”

Flicking the leaf blade of a corn plant that looked exactly like every other plant around, you huffed in frustration. The falling night made it even harder to discern whether it was the same stone you had come by for the nth time already or a new one. By now you were sure, you and your boyfriend were the last idiots wandering through this corn maze.

“I’d like to remind you that this was your idea, by the way,” you grumbled, not actually all that mad.

“And you were the one who said ‘Oh, let’s do something cute and coupley this Halloween!’, if I may remind you,” Suna retorted, throwing pieces of corn at you. He seemed far less concerned than you, as calm and collected as ever. “Plus, you agreed rather enthusiastically when I brought it up.”

“Well that was before we’ve been walking in circles for hours. It’s gonna get cold soon, too,” you defended yourself. To emphasise your point, you rubbed your hands up and down your arms.

“Here.” Suna was already shrugging off his own jacket and draping it around you, fastening it in the front. Immediately, his warmth still radiating from the material made you feel better and you sighed contently. Your boyfriend had the audacity to laugh at you, pulling a leaf out of your hair. “How lucky you are to have a boyfriend who dresses warm enough for both of you.”

“Yes yes, you’re the best or whatever,” you rolled your eyes, then sidled up to him and slipped your hand into his calloused one, blatantly ignoring his amused snort. “About getting out of here though, if you’re now also packing something like a map–”

“Yeah no, I’m not,” your boyfriend shattered your hopes. Holding up his phone to show the endlessly loading map, he added. “I also don’t have reception.”

“I can’t believe it, we’re going to die in a corn maze. That’s not how I wanted to go out,” you joked. Turning both ways again, you tried to recall if you had seen this place before. “But seriously, what are we going to do? Even you are losing in height to a stupid plant… Try jumping though?”

“Absolutely not,” Suna deadpanned. He started moving again, tugging you along. “You know, our high school volleyball team used to do this, too. Do you know how easy it is to get lost in a maze when you have the twins with you?”

“I can imagine,” you snorted, the thought of Atsumu and Osamu bickering endlessly the entire way cheering you up. “I’m sure Kita handled it though.”

“Yeah, his sense of direction is freakish,” the middle blocker said. Taking another right, you followed him. “I’m still pretty sure he’s a robot or something.”

“Can’t blame you, someone should study him,” you agreed. All the times you had met the former captain you had failed to point out a single flaw, so you supported that theory whole-heartedly. “But I don’t think anyone else could’ve handled that team. You guys always had a knack for causing trouble.”

“Hey now, don’t lump me in with the rest of them,” Suna purposefully tugged at your intertwined hands, so you’d stumble right into him, disproving the point he was trying to make. “I never was a troublemaker.”

“‘Course not. You only filmed all of it,” you shook your head at him in amusement. By now you had figured out his strategy. You had been sticking to the right side of the maze this entire time and in the distance you saw the lights of the maze’s end.

“See, that wasn’t so hard. No need to write out your testimony,” Suna one-sidedly grinned at you.

“If it was so easy, why didn’t you just do it sooner?” You stared back, unimpressed.

“Where would be the fun in that, babe?” By now his smirk had widened and he wrapped a strong arm around your middle to pull you flush with his chest and you let him. “Anyway, don’t you think I deserve some kind of reward for saving you from dying in a corn maze?”

“You are the worst, Suna Rintarou,” you laughed but still took his face between your hands and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary. “There, happy now?”

“Hmmm, is that really all I get? I mean we’re talking about your life here…” Sharp olive eyes were looking at you expectantly and your heart, the traitor, melted at the sight.

“How corny,” you mused before leaning in and connecting your lips.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

event tag list: @mccnstruck

➺ ‧₊˚ So, did you manage to find today's piece of the starmap? ✩彡

#┊ʚ hollysm ︎ɞ #┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#haikyuu #x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #hq fluff #suna x reader #suna fluff #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader

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helloalycia · 2 months

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𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 — 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍

masterlist / wattpad

summary: you think you're doing a good job at hiding your nightmares from your girlfriend, until one starts to feel awfully realistic.

warning/s: mentions of death, PTSD, murder, bombs and everything else that comes with writing a hunger games one-shot.

author's note: someone requested a comfort fic where reader experiences nightmares, so after a while, this was born! it’s only a short one but who doesn’t love some katniss 🥺

It was still difficult to adjust to my new life in District 13. I suppose I should've been grateful I had it – I was, but a massive part of me would always miss my true home in District 13.

Things weren't the same anymore, and though I was lucky to count myself as one of the minority who escaped the bombings, thanks to Gale and some miners who rescued all they could and led us to the forest, I still missed what I had.

My family weren't so lucky and the survivor's guilt was eating away at me. They were in town the day it happened, the day the bombs dropped from the sky in an instant, showering the whole district in a firework of horror. I didn't see them burn, but my brain still liked to conjure images of them all stuck in town, helpless, as they were engulfed in flames.

It was a lot, especially when it overwhelmed me, but I knew I had to push on. Though my family were gone, I still had Katniss and, in a way, she was my family too.

She hated District 13 as much as I did, but she made more of a point about it. After everything she endured in both Hunger Games, particularly the second one which was a whirlwind for her, she wasn't the same and I didn't expect her to be. But it meant I only worried for her more, no matter if it was something simple like her straying from the hyper-strict District 13 schedule we all received, or something heart wrenching like her suffering a panic attack, no doubt induced by her PTSD.

As the face of the rebellion, she had a lot on her plate and the last thing I wanted to worry her about were my own problems. Sometimes though, it got the better of me.

It was like any other nightmare I'd had about them, but this felt so much more real. I was stuck, as if my feet were cemented into the ground, and forced to watch the bombs rain down on District 12. My family were there – my parents and younger sister – but no matter how much I screamed at them to leave, they couldn't hear me. I wasn't sure whether my voice was stuck in my throat or being drowned out by the falling of bombs, but it was as if I were invisible to them.

The smoke was thick, swallowing up my screams and leaving my eyes watery. I couldn't see them, but I knew. They'd been stolen from me and the pain in my heart was immeasurable. Just like all my other nightmares of them, I couldn't save them here either.

I was usually quite good at hiding my sleepless nights, but this one felt so horribly realistic that it had me waking up with a start. My heart was racing so fast I thought it would jump from my chest, and as I blinked away the tears in my eyes, I realised it was only a dream.

"Y/N."

Katniss was hovering above me, her blue-grey eyes bright in the dimly lit room we shared, and it helped settle me slightly, the familiarity of her presence. She pulled me up gently before engulfing me in a hug, and I realised it was because I was trembling so much my bones were hurting, the aftermath of how tense I'd been. Even as she held me, it took me a moment to understand where I was, what my reality was.

We were in our shared room in the bowels of District 13's underground maze. It must've been the middle of the night or something, the two of us in bed.

"It was just a dream," she murmured into my neck as her hand stroked my hair. "You're here. It's not real."

I swallowed thickly, fresh tears welling in my eyes as scenes of fire and death filled my mind once more. "It is. It happened. They're– they're gone."

She didn't know what I meant, not at first, but I saw it all perfectly clear, and my heart was crumbling as I accepted, over and over, that my family were truly gone. I'd never see them again.

My eyes screwed shut as I tried to regulate my breathing, following the steady rhythm of Katniss' as she held me close. Her hand rubbed soothing circles on my back, grounding me, and I eventually got to a point where I was no longer in fight or flight mode.

"I'm sorry," I breathed out, too quietly to be heard. I pulled back slightly, trying again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

Her hand cupped my cheek as she met my eyes. "Don't apologise."

All I could think was how exhausted she looked. Her own sleep wasn't great lately and events like this weren't helping with the million and one things she had to worry about. The guilt deepened as I looked away with uncertainty.

"Come here," she encouraged, lying back down and spreading out her arms.

I wasted no time in crawling back to my pillow, though this time straight into her arms. She held me close and I focused on the warmth she radiated, the steady beat of her heart, the feeling of her fingertips pressed to my back.

"Do you dream of them often?" she asked softly, lips brushing my hair.

I swallowed hard, hoping she'd let it go.

"Y/N...," she coaxed disapprovingly.

"It doesn't matter," I spoke, unwilling to escape the safe space between her neck and collarbone.

"It does," she insisted, sternly, before sighing when she realised how strong she was coming on. She fell quiet, and I hoped she would leave it be, but then she said, "I know what it's like. Seeing people you care about haunting you."

She'd lost so many – before the Games, during them and now. How she was still standing was beyond me.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bring up bad memories," I said with a frown, but she shook her head and pulled back slightly, facing me.

"Stop, don't say that," she said with glassy eyes. "Stop minimising your problems."

I gave her a knowing look, one that would usually work when I wasn't still shaken from a nightmare. "Katniss, I'll get over it."

She frowned. "You should've told me."

I scoffed quietly. "And then what? You can't do anything about it. It's just another thing to worry about and–"

"Shut up," she cut me off suddenly.

I sighed. "Katniss..."

"No," she said decisively. "What's the point in all of this? Any of it? If I can't be there for those I love?"

I didn't know what to say, but the way she was looking at me made my insides blossom with appreciation.

"It's all for you," she said with certainty, taking my hand and intertwining her fingers between us. "For my family. For everyone who's ever suffered at the Capitol's hand."

"I know," I said softly. "But–"

"But what?" she said, voice rising now, eyes darting between mine. When I didn't speak, she continued, "Fine, forget all that. But even if I wasn't the Mockingjay, even if this rebellion wasn't happening, Y/N, I'd want to be there for you as your girlfriend. I love you. I just want to help. So, you have to let me."

I hated that she was right. If the roles were reversed, I would have wanted the same. The way Katniss loved wasn't like anyone I'd ever met, but I wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

I nodded in response, unsure how to articulate what I was feeling as she watched me with adoration. She moved forward to hug me, so tightly that I should have complained, but I couldn't get enough.

We soon settled into one another, the covers pulled to our shoulders as I slotted myself back into the safe space in the crook of her neck. A quiet fell upon us, one I hated to break, but we were finally sharing and I was afraid that if I didn't say everything I felt, I'd go back to hiding it again.

"I can't lose you," I admitted.

"You won't."

I shook my head slightly. "You don't know that."

She knew I was right. With all the uncertainties of our predicament, and everything that came with being the face of the rebellion, it wasn't her choice. As capable as I knew she was, there was still the what ifs. Those were what haunted me.

"I sometimes dream about you," I whispered, too afraid to say it any louder because it felt so stupid to admit. "I dream you win. That this war against the Capitol is over. Snow is dead. They're not in control anymore. But you... you're not here. You're gone. You win, but the price is your life."

She didn't speak, patiently allowing me to finish, but her arms tightened around me comfortingly.

"It's selfish, I know," I admitted, hoping my tears weren't soaking her shirt, "but I'm not sure it would be worth it. Not if it meant losing you."

She didn't say anything at first, my words left lingering in the dark between us. But then: "I'm not planning on dying."

I closed my eyes, a helpless sigh escaping my lips. She wouldn't understand. I didn't expect her to.

"It would be worth it," she said considerately, fingers tangling in my hair. "It's hard to see that now, but it would be."

"I disagree," I said stubbornly.

"Well, you never agree with me anyway, do you?"

I sighed again, though a ghost of a smile was on my lips. She kissed the top of my head, her own smile present.

"It's my thing to work on, I know," I said after a pause.

"You're not alone," she reminded me.

"Neither are you," I retorted.

She exhaled gently. "I know."

We both fell quiet and I stayed in that position as she played with my hair, the silence stretching into a comfortable peace. It was easy to start drifting off once more, the sound of her heart acting as a lullaby.

"I love you," she whispered.

I mumbled it back, half asleep, and felt her lips press to my head again before she shuffled slightly to get more comfortable. My eyes were already closed, and I fell asleep soon enough, grateful for her presence.

#katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen #katniss everdeen x reader #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games #thg #thg imagine #jennifer lawrence

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sashi-ya · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝒀 january free requestsㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ aizen sosuke x f! reader

🕊️ request: anon ⋆｡˚ May I ask about a NSFW scenario of Aizen x afab reader have sex but they have to keep it low because there is a party in the house and people might catch them? It could be even more interesting if they’re not even supposed to talk to each other. Thanks for your hard work on here! 💗 🕊️ tw: mdni. Mafia AU. Aizen's younger brother could be anyone! however since it is not a fic, but a scenario, I didn't want to go much further BUT in my mind it was supposed to be Gin (if you really like this fic I could write more with more than one chap cause I love mafia au and traitors :P) . Kyoka Suigetsu is a gun in this AU. so, usage of gun. fingering. kissing. slap. hair pulling. unprotected sex. fear play? gun play? maybe. (Not so much of a play). wc: 1,4k 🕊️masterlist

For the sake of the business, of the families… Promised to Sosuke’s little brother, there you sit watching the night pass by. Or maybe, just maybe, the handsome features of the oldest of the Aizens.

As always, these parties are never fun, specially knowing all of the men in there carry guns in between their hipbones and clothes.

Is not ok for you to speak more than what you are expected to; the daughter of a mafia boss holds power, but apparently not rights.

To ensure the prosperity of your family’s business they have agreed on an arranged marriage in between the youngest heirs of both of the most powerful mafia clans in all the country…

“Mrs. (Name), are you enjoying the party? Has my little brother already left you alone? What is that man thinking?!” your future brother-in-law asks. His chocolate eyes fix into yours, taking advantage of the power they have on you. He knows very well that his younger sibling cares nothing about getting married, and even if he ends it up doing it he won’t engage into the “good husband” life.

“Aizen-sama, yes. He told me he wanted to dance, I think… but he is probably drinking with… you know” you murmur, ashamed. Is not that you care about him, you don’t even wish to touch him. However, there is one you want to touch, to kiss… him, Aizen Sosuke, the older sibling.

Aizen smirks with class and blinks slowly. He presents his hand with his palm up to you; Sosuke is actually asking you to take his hand and follow him. But should you do it? This could be considered as some kind of treason… what would they do if someone see the younger bride to be on her own engagement party leaving with the brother of the groom?

Well… if your life is about to become hell, might as well do it faster.

You place your hand on his; he slickly looks to the sides and then again at you. With a soft smirk, something like a caring façade that’s nothing but a lie, he pulls you up.

“Follow me, (Name). Please”

And you do. You follow him, and you walk right behind him like following the devil walking you into hell.

The long halls of the Aizen family’s manor can easily be mistaken for a maze. The big windows ahead, show the beautiful scenery that surrounds their lands; a tropical paradise on a steamy summer night. You can see the waves crashing on the coast, that’s barely a few meters from the house. The moon reflect its white silver shine that’s tinted in a little bit of red, on the water… like a flower on a pond, so beautifully unreachable.

“Sosuke, where are we going?” you ask, knowing what you are doing but not exactly where.

He turns around, stopping in the middle of a carpeted covered hall. His eyes scan you up and down, strategically stopping by the high cut skirt of your dress. Sosuke, then, walks a couple of steps towards you and places the soft surface of his fingertips on your chest.

“Your heart is racing…” he whispers, with his face close enough for you to feel his warm breath kissing your skin.

Your eyelashes flutter a couple of times, while your lips slowly separate. Whether you wished to say something or not, you knew you simply couldn’t.

“I know our families have arranged your marriage, but… I have a better plan” he adds, coming even closer to your face. Right there, so dangerously exposed to anyone that decided to walk those halls.

“You do…?” you ask, hoping for a better future, trusting in the man that could be your enemy… that in fact, is still one until you finally marry his brother.

He nods, slowly. Aizen’s hand reaches for your face, placing his fingers on your mandible and his thumb on your lip. He sloppily plays with it, getting you ready for him, spell bounding you, making you stupidly weak for him…

Sosuke pushes you back, unexpectedly. You trip but he catches you and guides you to a random room.

Inside, the luxury never stops, and the scent of chocolate invades you. It’s delicious and it seems to be coming from some steamer. The place is not looking like a pantry but rather a place where massages are done. And in fact, when you turn around, there is a massage bed and many decorations around that reminds you of a spa.

“I didn’t know this place existed” you giggle, knowing this home is about to become your home… well, at least if you make it alive from tonight.

Sosuke scoffs, just enough to make your core wetter, and your legs weaker. He comes closer to you, always with that calm way of walking. Calm and dominant. Calm and dangerous… oh but so attractively.

He lifts you up to sit you on top of the bed. It creeks just a little, and the soft surface welcomes you like you are landing on a cloud. Immediately after, he softly slaps your knees to spread your legs and then get in between them.

Your face reaches his chest height, and your eyes discover the little spot of caramel skin right in between his collar bones. You are tempted to kiss; you are tempted to touch, to let him do it anything he wants.

“I must ask you to keep it quiet; even if this place is huge… walls can hear” he urges you, passing his hand towards the back of your head.

“I will try~” is the last phrase your lips pronounce that make sense, because the next sounds abandon your lips will be just moans and whines…

Sosuke kisses you, violently. So imprudent, so sinfully. He has no trace of regret nor shame for messing with his brother future wife, neither do his hands. Your breasts, freed by a sudden pull on your neckline’s dress, await for him to enjoy them. Your right inner thigh can feel the protruding “Kyouka Suigetsu” carving on your skin… his so well-known gun, that he carries everywhere in between his pants and his sweet, milk and coffee skin.

The silence gets tinted in soft moaning and panting, as well as the sound of his fingers crawling inside you. In and out he goes, straightly to the point. He wants your walls to be stretched enough to receive his now hard rock sex. A hard rock sex you can clearly also feel from time to time, as he grazes against your dampened sex. You are sure his light brown pants are already stained in your arousal, and you don’t mind…

“You are very tight, aren’t you? But you are still taking it very well…” Sosuke asks in your ear, while he forces two fingers instead of one deep inside you. “Did my brother fuck you already?”

You shake, taking the unproper right to pass your arms over his shoulders. “Not yet, he still thinks I’m a virgin…” you whisper back, revealing a lie that could cost your and your family’s heads.

Aizen smirks so devilishly, as if the new information he has just learned about you represented more than a simple lie…

“Then, I won’t be soft… you know that? You little lying bitch?” he says, walking back and taking his gun out of his “secret” not to secret spot. “Go as hard as you wish, Sosuke… we are both traitors by now” you spit, receiving the cold tip of his Kyoka on your thigh.

You lick your upper lip, slowly smudging the already bleed out red lipstick. Even the strongest can faulter when it comes to lust, because Aizen hand slightly trembles… and the trigger he should have pulled, it doesn’t get pulled. And the gun now rests, so dangerously by your side, so next to your own hand.

He softly slaps your cheek, while the other pulls from your hair back. Your neck exposed; his teeth carved on your flesh. The sound of his zipper going down; the stretching feeling of his manhood piercing your walls integrity.

You carve your heels on the small of Sosuke’s back, while he fucks you so rough. You don’t want him to stop, you want him to keep going. Your pinkie can feel the cold metallic surface of the gun resting on the bed. But his does too...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...who will grab it first?

#aizen sōsuke #aizen x reader #aizen sousuke #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen #aizen bleach #bleach x reader #bleach #bleach anime #bleach x reader fanfic #bleach fanfic #muken aizen #sashi ya #aizen smut

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petrichor-idyllic · 1 year

Note

Hello are your requests still open? If so, can you pls do a Minho x reader (female: she/her) where Minho wants to just do his job and map the maze in the map room but reader gets in too (she's the only non-runner allowed cuz she's with Minho), and she wants to get his attention like- sit on his lap and whispering things to him, staring at him from across the room etc and its so high on tension. Thank you😊

Ooo, yes, sounds fun. I love writing high tension scenes.

BEHAVE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Established relationship. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, some high sexual tension, spice, Minho playing hard to get, awkward public flirting.

It's no secret that you're obsessed with your boyfriend. Everyone in the Glade is fully aware of your infatuation with Minho.

I mean, how could you not? The man is perfect. He's strong, handsome, passionate about the things he loves, determined and actually quite thoughtful. And he has a body that looks like it was sculpted by the Gods themselves.

Which obviously works in Minho's favour since it means the other boys make no attempt to hit on you.

Because Minho would kill them.

The downside to this relationship is that Minho is a very busy dude. Not only is he a Keeper and an integral part of the Glade, but he also spends nearly all of his time out in the Maze. Or mapping the Maze. Or talking about the Maze. Or thinking about the Maze.

The Maze has a hold on his life- which leaves less time for you to have a hold on him.

When Minho said you could start spending time in the Map room whilst he's in there, you were thrilled for obvious reasons. Minho also wants to spend more time with you and feels bad that his job takes the priority of his time. So, being Keeper and basically incharge of the Map room, he decided it would be a smart idea.

It was not.

You are going to be Minho's downfall because you know exactly how to get under his skin, and you love his attention. Which is bad mix, especially since the Runners started to explore the outer sections and Minho is even busier than before.

Which has led to some frustrations from both sides. Not spending as much time alone together means that you're having less moments of physical intimacy. Sure, you still cuddle in bed and share the occasional peck, but Minho is normally too tired to meet your needs.

But you are struggling. Minho is too, but he has a bit too much on his plate for that to be as much of a concern.

"So, you're telling me you found nothing?" Minho and the other Runners sit around the large table in the middle of the room, paper scattered everywhere. Minho looks like he's going to kill Ben if he makes one more bad maze pun.

"Yeah," the other boy leans back in his seat, "basically." Ben has developed the nasty habit of making his adventures sound more interesting than they actually are.

You're sitting on one of the tables that line the room, swinging your legs over the side, directly across from Minho as you watch him. Admittedly, you like watching him work. There's something about watching him lead and be in control that makes you feel some kind of way.

It doesn't help when he wears that dumb tight blue shirt. He pretty much started wearing it religiously when he noticed how much you like it.

"Has anyone found anything of note today?" Minho leans back, throwing his arm over the back of the chair and casually watching his men write down their own routes for the day.

His eyes flicker up, catching your gaze. You flash him a smirk, coyly tilting your head as you cross your cross your legs, leaning back on your hands. He slightly raises his eyebrow before rolling his eyes, returning to his work.

After another fifteen or so minutes, you internally chuckle to yourself, thinking up an idea. You let out an exaggerated sigh, some gravel to the noise.

It's something that the other boys pay no mind to, but Minho has heard it before. And as his body visibly tenses, you can tell he's having all sorts of flashbacks. He sends a warning look your way, and you just pout, batting your eyes to exaggerate innocence.

After a while, the boys start discussing Maze things amongst themselves, but Minho doesn't join in, seemingly in his own little world.

You take the opportunity to stand up, walking around the table and behind your boyfriend- something that raises no concern among the group since it isn't uncommon. You drape your arms over his shoulders, hugging him from behind and crouching down slightly like you're examining his work with him. Though you make an extra effort to push your boobs against his back.

"Looks good," you say, talking normally and at the same volume as everyone else.

"This is the same as all my other work," his voice is hushed, lower than before, probably because you're lightly dragging your fingers up and down his chest- playing it off as absentmindedly fiddling.

"Yeah, well, all your work looks good," you lean closer to him, brushing your lips against his ear and whispering, "kinda like you."

Minho's jaw tenses. You're playing a dangerous game here and, for some reason, that seems to be getting to Minho more than anything else. Something about your very simple acts of seduction in a room full of people that hold the utmost respect for him is making his knees weak and has him shuffling in his seat.

You let one of your arms fall limp when another boy asks Minho a question, not that you're paying enough attention to understand the question. But when your hand comes to the back of Minho's neck, stroking the small hairs at the base of his head, he ever so slightly stumbles over his words, struggling to process the words and the sensation at the same time.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy Minho like this. It's not very often you manage to make the normally confident Keeper blush or squirm, so the power you hold at the current moment is a pleasant change.

The conversation continues, and the boys slowly start to leave, finishing their work and saying their goodbyes until it's just you, Minho, and Ben.

"Shuck's sake," Ben hisses as his pencil cracks, the lead snapping and leaving a dark dot on his map. "(Y/N)?"

You hum in response, showing he has your attention.

"Can you grab me a new pencil, please? I don't know where you put them."

"Sure," you may or may not have gotten bored waiting for Minho and rearranged the entire Map room to make it more organised.

It took a lot longer than you originally thought, but you were determined to finish it.

But no one else has a clue where anything is.

You go over to one of the boxes under the outer tables, bending down and pulling out the box, making sure to stick your ass up. You hear Minho suck in a deep breath, choosing to ignore Ben's irritated grumbling about the Creators sending up shitty equipment.

"Here," standing back up, you roll the pencil across the table.

You return behind Minho, watching as Ben's eyes burn into the paper, almost cartoonishly hunched over as his tongue sticks out at an angle.

With Ben's full attention on something else, you press a light kiss to Minho's neck. His back straightens, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. You pull away as he looks at you.

"I need to work," he attempts to sound firm, but his voice wavers, completely giving everything away.

"What?" You pretend to be lost as Ben lifts his head up, visibly confused as to what he's missed. "I'm just bored, shank- you know I don't get half of this Maze klunk. I'm just watching."

Minho presses his tongue into his cheek, glaring at you, but his pupils are wider than before and his eyelids heavier.

You take a seat instead, casually leaning your elbow on the table as you watch Minho work.

"Alright," Ben stands up, the chair scratching against the floor. "I'm done- catch you guys later."

"Later, Ben," you smile at him and he gives you a playful salute.

"Don't even think about it," Minho says the second the door closes, making you groan.

"Think about what?"

"You know what," he doesn't even look at you. "You know I have more work to do than the rest of them- don't make it harder."

Minho knows that if he looks at you, he's going to immediately crack, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to keep his hands off of you.

"You're always working," you flop onto the table, "I never get you to myself anymore."

"We literally sleep together every night."

"Yeah, but not in the way I want," you practically whisper it, but Minho still manages to catch the gist.

"What was that?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Nah, c'mon, tell me," he's finally raised his head, twisting his pencil around his toned hands.

"No, it's fine. Not like it'll make a difference."

He pulls his lips into a thin line. "No, c'mon. You gotta tell me now."

"I want to fuck you."

You sit back, crossing your arms against your chest. You're calm, face stoic- which couldn't be more the opposite to Minho. He's stunned, his heat rate increasing as the tips of his ears start to turn red.

"Behave," he warns.

"What? You asked."

"Yeah, b-but I have to work- yeah? I'll give you attention after."

"You're a liar."

"What?" You stand up, standing in front of him for second.

"I said," you swing your leg over him, straddling him as you sit on his lap, facing him, "you are a liar. We're gonna go to bed, and you're immediately gonna pass out. I want you now."

Instinctively, his hands come to your waist, almost moving him closer to you. His eyes flicker to your lips as you feel his fingers dig into you. "Behave, (Y/N)." His voice is raspy, and he makes no actual attempt to stop you.

Because, honestly, he doesn't want to.

"Fine," you sigh, "but can at least sit here? Be close to you at least?"

He hesitates for a second, but nods. "Alright."

You shuffle slightly closer, your chests pressed together as you rest your head on his shoulder. Your breath lingers on his skin, the warmth of having you close and occasionally moving is making Minho's head go fuzzy.

Your smell is intoxicating. Your skin is hypnotising. Every natural urge in his body is screaming at him, and it only gets worse when you adjust yourself again, unintentionally grinding against him.

At this point, you've accepted your failure. You respect Minho's work and if he says he's too busy, then there's not much you can actually do about it.

That is until you feel him against you.

"Minho, are you-?"

"Shut up," he says almost immediately, "I can't help it, okay?" You chuckle and he feels the vibrations, the maps he's examining and the words he's writing might as well be non-existent.

"Mhm."

"I can't!" You don't need to look at him to be able to tell he's bright red; you can feel the heat radiating of his face.

You start to litter gentle kisses along the base of his neck, and he sucks in a deep breath.

"I told you to behave," he mumbles, his breath hitching and one of his hands returning to your waist.

"Do you want me to stop?" Your question is genuine. Sure, it's entertaining to watch him squirm, but you would never actually want to make him uncomfortable.

"...No." You smirk against his skin, continuing your pursuit until your teeth graze him, lightly biting him before sucking on the skin just above his collarbone in the crook of his neck. It's a particularly sensitive spot to Minho.

You hear the pencil scatter to the floor as he drops his head back, a grunt escaping his throat. His other hand comes to your waist, forcing you to move against him to have some kind of friction.

The action sends electricity through you, causing you to start moving your hips all on your own. His hands travel under your shirt, scratching at your back. You let out a small gasp at the smirk, pulling away to look at him.

His perfect hair has started to become messy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. His eyes flicker, hands slipping further under the fabric.

"You're a real shuckin' nightmare, you know that?" He's barely audible, basically mumbling as you ghost your lips against his.

"Yeah, but you love me," you move your hands to his hair, making it even more dishevelled.

A faint smirk plays in his lips. "How could I not?"

Finally, he leans forward, merging your mouths together in a heated kiss that's full of emotion. He basically lifts you up, making you squeak into him before you hit the table.

Papers scatter everywhere, and one of the Runners drinks that was left spills all over the wood. The table even jolts back an inch with the force he moves you.

Falling back, Minho stands between your legs as you hold yourself up with your elbows. After a few seconds, your arms fall weak, making you dip further back, your head hitting the table.

He moves down to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and undoubtedly leaving deep, purple bruises. It's not uncommon for Minho to be possessive and territorial, even if he doesn't need to be.

You mumble his name, hands fisting his hair as he moves even lower, lifting your shirt to pepper kisses against your mid-drift.

A deep, almost mischievous chuckle escapes him as he looks up at you, fiddling with your belt.

He smirks. "I warned you."

Here is a shorter piece since I am still recovering from the last request, but still fun to write all the same. Not as story based either but I do enjoy these more simple one-shots.

I hope you enjoy all the same.

Requests are still open :))

#🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri tmr minho #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #minho tmr x reader #tmr imagines #minho maze runner

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eating-plastic · 9 months

Text

Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors

Word Count: 3434 words

A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!

--------------------

Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.

You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.

After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.

Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.

'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.

He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.

'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.

Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.

--------------------

As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.

"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.

"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.

"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"

"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.

"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.

The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.

"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.

Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.

He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.

"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"

You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.

"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.

"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"

"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.

"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"

'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?

"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.

"Fine."

--------------------

You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.

Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.

You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.

"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.

"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.

"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"

"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.

"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.

"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.

"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.

You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.

"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....

All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.

"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.

"No," he says, shortly.

The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.

"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."

Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.

"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."

Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.

"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.

"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"

As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.

"Here."

"What-?"

"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.

You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.

"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.

Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.

"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.

"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.

"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"

"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"

"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.

Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.

--------------------

By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.

Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.

"Hey, uh, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.

"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.

He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.

Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.

"Yes?" his mother says.

"H-Hi, mom."

"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"

"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."

His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.

"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.

Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?

"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.

"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"

"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, mom. Bye."

"Goodbye."

There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.

He opens the door to the booth and steps out.

"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."

"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.

"Surprise me!"

You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.

Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.

"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.

"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"

"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."

She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.

A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.

"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.

"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"

"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.

"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"

It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.

Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.

"You like it?" you ask.

He nods his head, before he takes another bite.

--------------------

"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.

"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."

You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.

"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"

You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.

"Yeah, we were really worried!"

That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.

"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.

'Good,' Henry thought.

"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.

"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."

Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.

"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.

"Henry."

"What?" you turn to look up at him.

"That's my name," Henry says.

You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.

"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.

"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.

"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.

Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.

"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.

"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.

"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"

Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.

Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.

"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.

"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."

You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.

He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.

--------------------

The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.

Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.

He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.

Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.

#killer frequency #killer frequency game #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency game x reader #henry barrow #henry barrow x reader #x reader #rita writes

211 notes · View notes

talesofesther · 2 years

Text

Embers and stars

Newt x Reader

Summary: On a peaceful night, Newt finally has time to think about his growing feelings for you.

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, and to the few anons who said they'd like to see a story with this cutie. Also, this is mainly to try and put my brain back in the writing game, with my favorite boy. I doubt many people are gonna read this, but I post all my stories here so…

And yes, Newt made it to Safe Haven; don’t look at me like that.

Masterlist

The sand was warm as you buried your toes in it, breathing in deeply the salty air of the ocean just ahead of you. Waves brought the water closer to your feet, it was pleasantly cold compared to the warmth of the setting sun.

You opened your eyes to the view of the orange sun touching the end of the sea far away, painting the sky in deep shades of orange, purple, and blue. There were voices behind you, people chatting happily for once. You glanced around with a smile, seeing your Glader friends and everyone else that made it to the Safe Haven.

A few trees adorned the main area along with grassy ground just after the thin strip of sand, some of the tents were still being built but most were already up; held by large pieces of wood and big enough to accommodate everyone.

It's been only a few days, and there are countless adjustments yet to be made and problems to solve. But they were futile, small compared to the hell you all just escaped from.

Everyone needed time to relax, so tonight, Frypan and Minho decided to bring back the bonfire night.

Thomas walked out of the forest with pieces of wood in his hands. You giggled at the way he struggled to carry them, groaning dramatically when he dropped two of the pieces.

With a last glance towards the vast ocean, you made your way up to him, feeling your already tired muscles complain about having to walk in the fluffy sand. As you reached the grass, you put your slippers back on and called out to Thomas; "Need a hand?"

Thomas glanced up to you from his crouched position, in the middle of trying to pick up the fallen wood. "Yeah, that would be great. Thank you."

You split the pieces of wood between both of you, carrying it with much more ease towards the middle of the big camp, where the bonfire would take place. Slowly, the place started to look more like home. In some ways, it reminded you of the Glade.

The box had brought you up one month before Chuck arrived, and your life had been a rollercoaster ever since. From living two months in the Glade and then diving into nothing short of an adventure in the outside world, it felt nostalgic to finally have something similar to what you called home back in the maze.

With a grunt, you let go of the heavy pieces of wood. Seagulls could be heard singing in the distance, along with a soft cold breeze that started flowing from the ocean.

"All good here?" Minho had run up to you and Thomas, seemingly done with his scouting around the beach. Almost everyone had found something to do by now, you were still helping around randomly wherever it was needed.

"Yeah, I think that's all," Thomas told him, looking down at the wood you had just dumped on the sand.

"Great, we can start the fire then," Minho said excitedly, walking back towards the main tent.

As Minho ran out of view, Thomas nudged you on the shoulder. You looked his way curiously, and he had a teasing grin on his face. "You caught someone's attention."

You raised an eyebrow at him, following his gaze towards your right side. Your eyes found Newt, who was watching you from afar, with a forgotten tomato seedling in his hand. The tender smile that came to you was inevitable, the way his blond hair fell softly over his eyes with the wind; the way the last rays of sun painted his cheeks pink, and how he quickly looked away as you caught him staring, pretending to pay undivided attention to the new garden; it all made your stomach flutter pleasantly.

Newt had sneaked his way into your heart from day one. With him being the sweetest, most caring, and respectful amongst everyone on the Glade; you became friends fast.

You felt warmth coming to your cheeks, throwing a last glance towards him before walking back to the tents with Thomas, who started teasing you relentlessly.

"-Hearing me? Newt? Newt!"

With a start, Newt looked up quickly, shaking his head lightly to clear his mind. He saw Frypan watching him already with a knowing smirk. Newt got up from the ground, cleaning his hands on his pants. "Don't even start." He grumbled under his breath.

"I'm just here to pick up some oregano." The playful tone betrayed Frypan's words.

Newt huffed out a nervous breath, shooting a side glance towards the same direction you walked to.

Frypan caught up on his staring. "Why won't you just talk to her?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Averting his gaze, Newt walked past his friend and towards his own tent.

"You're wasting time, she likes you too, you know," Frypan called out to Newt, who didn't bother to stop walking.

___

As the night came along fully, allowing countless stars to adorn the sky and the embers of the bonfire to shine bright; Frypan's words ringed inside Newt's head. He was sitting down on one of the benches that were placed under the main tent, his gaze fixed ahead of him on the bonfire; or more specifically, on you.

He twirled a half-full cup of Gally's drink in his hands, watching as you laughed along with his friends, your skin being illuminated by the fire.

The feelings he had for you had been brewing for a long time, almost as long as he had known you. It came naturally to him, being with you was easy and it warmed his chest like nothing else could, even if a familiar anxiousness always came with it. What was not easy, was acting on it. Newt never had any relationships, or if he did, he doesn't remember. It angered him that he didn't know how to deal with everything you made him feel.

And to think that there was a possibility you might feel the same; made his heart do somersaults.

He had been so lost inside his own worries that he didn't register someone coming towards him, only catching on when a shoulder was pressed to his.

You sat down beside Newt with a smile, not bothering to leave any distance between you. "Why are you out here isolating yourself?"

Your cheeky grin brought a blush to Newt's cheeks, and the way your body was touching his gave him goosebumps. "I'm not isolating, it's just a little more peaceful here."

The faint glow of the fire reflected on Newt's eyes, you could get lost in his warm gaze and the way he smiled at you.

"You're not wrong." Your words were quiet as you looked ahead of you, taking in the dark night sky and the orange glow of the bonfire.

Newt felt his mouth go dry, his finger tapped his cup anxiously before he set it down on the table. "Do you want to um- maybe take a walk along the beach?" He averted his gaze as he asked, hoping you didn't notice the pitch of his voice.

He could feel your gaze on him but there was no answer yet. Before he could ask again, or say it was no big deal if you didn't feel like it; he felt the warmest of touches involve his hand, his breath getting caught up in his throat as you intertwined your fingers with his.

"I'd love to."

You didn't let go of his hand as you silently walked along the coast side. This time of night, you couldn't even see the ocean, only hear the waves crashing. The chatter and partying of your friends were nothing but a background noise now.

"A part of me thought we'd never be able to make it here." You confessed with a quiet voice, feeling the cold wind on your skin.

Newt squeezed your hand, still feeling elated that you chose to hold on to him. "I know, sometimes it still feels like a dream."

There was a pause, and then your feet stopped moving as you felt Newt had stopped walking. You looked back at him with gentle curiosity, your outstretched hands still together. The moonlight illuminated his eyes and you saw hesitance in them.

You walked up to him, standing close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "What's wrong?"

He averted his gaze, looking down at your joined hands as he played with your fingers. "I wanted to- I need to tell you something."

His accent caught heavily onto his words, letting you know he was forcing them out. Without thinking much, you brought your free hand up. Your fingertips ghosted over his cheek before running through his hair, burying your touch on his messy blond strands from the wind.

Newt visibly gulped at your action, he squeezed your hand more forcibly to ground himself. Yet, he leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes.

"You can tell me anything." You promised.

He licked his lips, taking one last deep breath; and as he felt the salty water hit his shoes, he spoke what his heart had been screaming for a long time. "I have feelings for you, and I'm not sure how else to tell you this."

His gaze moved over your face for a moment, but he couldn't read it. He cleared his throat. "I have for a while and, it's alright if you don't feel the same. I just had to say it becau-"

A hand on the back of his neck pulling him forward cut him off. With an exhale of surprise, Newt felt your lips on his.

As fast as you kissed him, you pulled back. Your nose brushed his as you looked at him with a dazed stare. "I do feel the same." You breathed out, not being able to form any better words.

Newt pulled you back to him instantly, both his hands coming around your waist and flushing your bodies together. He melted against you, feeling the way you threaded your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

And you kissed him back with just as much passion, wrapping him up in an embrace that would hopefully let him know for how long you'd wanted this as well.

Far away, you thought you heard the voices of your friends laughing and shouting comments at you both. It made you smile into the kiss and you felt the way Newt's lips turned up as well.

If this was a dream, you'd be fine with never waking up.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

#newt x reader #newt tmr x reader #newt tmr #maze runner #thomas brodie sangster #maze runner imagines #maze runner x reader #tmr newt x reader #newt the maze runner #newt imagine #newt x you #newt x y/n #thomas brodie sangster x reader #fluff #angst #imagine #fanfic #newt fanfic #my story

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kenphobia · 1 year

Note

Hey hey neighbour!

Can I request a angst/comfort howdy or Frank/Eddie x reader?

Kinda want to sob over this puppets.

The reader is from our world and such, but sometimes reader can feel someone staring at their back. But once the reader is left alone Home decides to drag reader in and lock them up? Maybe some also decides to Injure the readeralot

But thank u for writing this! (If u do-)

DISCO DISSOCIATION!

"let the maze of my design carry you on."

summary. frank decides to take his two beloveds on a picnic date! what could go wrong? (oneshot / 1.9k wc / read end notes)

contents. unreality, mentions of dissociation, implied mind-control, accidental gaslighting, local gay entomologist and butterfly enthusiast gets fucked over by a living house. ( n//fw blogs dni )

"(Name), hold on!"

"Try and catch me, sucker!"

Eddie huffed, panting as he fell on the grass, his knees hit the ground with a soft thud. Atop the hill, (Name) stood proudly and grinning before taking a moment to blow a raspberry at the poor and tired mailman.

Frank smiled at the sight, their gaze diverting from their book and to their two lovers as they got closer and closer to them. It was a strange situation they had gotten into, but they were happy with what they got.

(Name) wasn't exactly like them, not like Eddie or anyone in town in fact. Though, they look similar to Wally and Julie, they oozed red substance instead of stuffing and their skin wasn't as soft and fuzzy as the rest. Various parts of them still continue to grow despite being an adult and their way of eating is ... strange to say the least.

But Frank doesn't mind it all. Sure, it was weird, seeing someone who looks like them but is more alike with a banana than anything, but they loved (Name) and couldn't resist falling for them. Eddie couldn't help it too, so they're not the only one.

Right now, they were having a picnic. Or at least, Frank's setting one up whilst Eddie get his revenge on (Name) with a tickle fight and (Name) was very much losing.

"Okay, okay! You win, I'm done so ple, he— PLEASE!" (Name) coughed, heaving as they try to swat away Eddie's wiggling fingers. "LET ME GO!!"

"Not after I did this!" Eddie laughed. He (Name) by their waist and pulled them down on his lap before attacking their face with kisses. Subtle orange smudges covered their face like a glaze over a masterpiece of a painting.

(Name) whined, "You got your kisses, let me go now! I might have flatten your legs."

Eddie planted a final kiss on the lips and buried his face in the crook of their neck. He held their hand within his and left a kiss of orange on an obvious spot, it looked brighter than the light pecks on (Name)'s face.

"Eddie!" (Name) shouted, catching Frank's attention who had been adjusting how the basket sits in the middle of the plaid red blanket.

The puppet only laughed in response, unwrapping his arms around (Name)'s waist. They got up, brushed their clothing off and clear of any dust and turned. Eddie's legs were, yes, flattened, but he easily shaped them back to normal and only wobbled slightly when he stood up.

"See? I'm perfectly fine! Nothing to worry about, love." Eddie ruffled their hair, smiling without a care in the world.

'But still though..."

Frank rolled their eyes playfully and beckoned Eddie and (Name) to come close with his hand. "Come on, you two. Let's eat, so you two can get back to goofing around."

(Name) and Eddie hurriedly ran to where Frank stood and finally start their picnic. Just before the hills were long, drawled out fields of plain grass and the blue, cloudless skies made their picnic more peaceful than ever.

Still, no matter how relaxing and wonderful the entire situation is, Frank couldn't shake off a weird, jittery feeling. Like something was wrong and that picnic was only the calm before the storm. In truth, they had planned this picnic because something was wrong with their lovers, especially (Name), though they hid under the impression of 'needing some bonding time together'.

Frank turned to look at Eddie who seemed well enough, even smiling more widely than usual and enjoying himself in general. Yet, when they turned to (Name), they were ... distracted. Their face held a look of lost, confusion, of distortion, and their eyes were blank and heavily clouded with an unknown feeling.

They always been liked this, always dissociating suddenly on the spot. Frank would understand, they do it too but not like the way (Name) does it. They sit there blankly, as if they just stopped working, living and was nothing more than a husk of they were before. The lights in their head had switched off that very moment and no one was there to respond.

Frank tried their best to listen throughout Eddie's long, tall tales, but they couldn't help looking over to (Name). They seemed to be somewhat listening too, nodding or shaking his head whenever Eddie asked them a question. The larger puppet didn't seem to notice the distant look in their eyes.

When grey took over the sky, they immediately packed up and ran back to the neighborhood as fast they could. And ran they did, arriving at Frank's place dry and safe from the curling thunders and the pouring rain.

As Eddie flopped down on the sofa, feeling awfully tired and parched from all of his long rambling, Frank quickly went to the kitchen to fetch him a glass.

They leaned down, placing a gentle hand on Eddie's shoulder and kissing his forehead. "You stay here and rest up while I get you something to drink, okay?" Frank whispered to his ear, to which Eddie mumbled a 'Thanks, Frankie' and smiled lazily.

"Do you need anything, (Name)?" Frank turned to their other lover who stood closely by the window, a little too close form how they were pressing their forehead on the glass. Frank furrowed their brows at this, worry rattling their mind once again. "...(Name)?"

Something in (Name) snapped, like a rubber band being let loose after being stretched for so long. They turned, still distracted as ever but now they look more alive than they were back at the picnic. "Y-Yes?"

"Do you want anything? Water? Something to eat?" Frank asked, walking up to them and reaching out for their hands, yet (Name) hid them behind their back and stepped back.

The human (as they like to call themself) shook their head, almost violently before offering a gentle, reassuring smile to Frank. "No... No, I'm fine. Thank you, Frank."

Depsite their words, Frank remained unsure but they didn't want to make them uncomfortable, so they nodded and smiled back in hopes to smooth out the strange tensity in the air. "Right, um, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Rest up, (Name)."

And so, Frank went to the kitchen, fixing up a glass of water for Eddie and coming back just as quick as they came in. But when they did, (Name) was gone and only Eddie remained on the couch, unmoving from the position Frank and left him in.

Frank frowned and handed Eddie his water. "Hey, Eds?"

The tired puppet hummed, taking a sip from his glass and glanced up to Frank. "Yeah?"

"Where's..." Frank looked around, checking for any sign of (Name) going to the bathroom or to their shared bedroom but uncovered nothing. They took a deep breath in. "Where's (Name)? They were here a while ago."

"(Name)? I thought they were with you?" Eddie raised his brow. He had completely drank all up the water and put it down on the coffee table, seemingly alarmed at Frank's sudden question.

"No, they weren't." Frank turned to the front door, walked up to it in a matter of seconds and went to unlock it. But it always been unlocked, from the moment Frank had touched the knob and the door opened with little to no difficulty, they knew something was wrong.

"...Frank?" Eddie called out from the living room. "Frank, what's wrong?" He had called out again, his tone growing persistently worried and sick.

Through the darkness of the night and storm, Frank could see a familiar silhouette stuck out in the middle of it all. A silhouette so familiar but so strange at the same time that Frank felt a strange feeling of falling, of dizziness, of vertigo.

And it felt sick.

"Frank? Frank! W-Where are you? Where's (N-Name)?" Eddie's voice grew farther and farther, and the warmth, the lights of Frank's home suddenly went out on itself. All they could see, feel and hear was nothing but a cold, bleak darkness and a buzzing noise that Frank soon learned to be TV static.

They also learned the figure was no other than (Name). Drenched in rain water, from head to toe, and looked more rugged than usual. They moved, walked and turned like a broken down marionette being dragged through the streets.

Frank couldn't move nor speak, they could only stand there as their beloved (Name), the bright and always sunny (Name) Eddie and they love, walk towards the very center of the neighborhood: Wally's home. Just Home.

They got closer and closer, and of course, Home opened a door for them. Frank wanted to scream, to shout and warn their lover to stay away from the wretched home that always looked and smelled too off for their liking, the very home that (Name) kept looking and staring each and every night.

But they can't, so they watched as (Name) went in and the door very, very slowly closed on them. Home looked at Frank with an almost mocking, hungry glint in its eyes before the lights finally reached Frank and warmth flooded their senses once again.

"Frankie, is there anything wrong?" Frank flinched slightly under Eddie's sudden hug, feeling his arms firmly but gently over their shoulders and the sudden weight of Eddie's head. "You suddenly got up and left..."

"G-Got up what now-?" Frank looked down, seeing they were dressed up in their sleeping gown and held a small, lit candle in their hands, providing as the only light within the dim hallway. "I— I saw (Name)! They went inside home a-and—!"

"Frank, calm down." Eddie squeezed their shoulders. His forehead creased as he frowned, Frank could sense worry and confusion all over their husband's face. "You're not making sense, what you do mean—?"

"(Name), Our lover! They went out into the rain, a-and Home got them. Don't you remember them?!" Frank hurriedly cut off Eddie, a sudden urge of energy spiked through them as the cold brushes against their soft, fleece skin.

Eddie's brows only furrowed further, the confusion in his eyes intensified. "Frank, I don't think we had another lover. I— Frank, are you okay? Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Wha— Eddie, you know (Name). They were the new neighbor, we've been dating them for months already, don't you know?" Frank tried again, the accursed seeds of dread and fear began spreading through their gut as they prayed to any and every listening god out there for this entire night not to be true. That everything was just a bad dream.

Eddie shook Frank in his arms, his hold tighter and firmer than before. And though, Eddie had tried to still be gentle with the shorter puppet, Frank couldn't help but feel trapped, suffocated from just being in Eddie's hold. "Frank, we never had a new neighbor named (Name), we never had another lover. I— Are you sure you're okay? Are you sure that you're getting enough sleep?"

"Eddie, I—"

"Come on. Let's go to bed, okay? We can... We can talk about this tomorrow morning, does that sound okay with you?" Eddie smiled, his gaze has softened. The front door closed on them as Eddie led Frank to their bedroom, his grasp was less firm and his hand kneaded and rubbed circles on their back.

Frank simply nodded, exhaustion hitting them faster than they realized. They sluggishly nodded, their arms dropping to their sides in an instant. "Yeah, let's... Let's go to sleep." They agreed tiredly, looking back for a final time to only see a large, dark eye staring at them from the window.

notes. so uh i did not see the hurt/comfort part but have this anon. i am sorry but no sorry because this is now one of my favorite fics.... hh kind of, i hated how i writed the first part of the fic and the end hshshshs AAA

but yeah, i love stealing characters' loved ones from them and writing their soul-crushing, nerve-popping, silly-goosing angst and trauma <333 (i am self projecting)

again, my inbox are always open for any requests or mindless chatter!! and any support is appreciated :]]

#writing log!#welcome home x reader #frank frankly x reader #eddie dear x reader #welcome home #this was not proof read oopsies

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heliads · 2 years

Note

I love love love your stories with Newt, thank you so much for writing them, i was thinking if I can request one? Just a simple thing with hurt/comfort and some angst. My idea is that reader does something that threatens her life, maybe she's the one that runs to help Minho in the maze at night (whatever, you decide really). But after that, when she comes back, Newt is furious, because he was SO worried that that was it, that he would lose her; so when she comes back he starts scolding her, but in the middle of the argument his eyes start to get all teary, and he just realizes he's crying after the first tear falls. Then despite him being stubborn and trying to avoid it, the reader just hugs him and holds him tightly until he calms down, this makes him break and cling to her, and he just sobs on her shoulder because he thought he would never see her again. Then just some cute moments and maybe his feelings getting spilled. Thank you, I'm excited to read it, you're awesome 💖

no you're awesome, anon! also i'm glad you like the newt fics bc like five requests for him came in during the last week, so you get a lot of newt content lmao

masterlist

You could spend your whole life wondering if you would never know what it feels like to be alive. Really, properly alive, that is, not this dreary day to day surviving that makes up most of your days in the Glade. You have a pulse, your blood is still good enough to force your heart through yet another set of paces, but it’s not enough. You don’t know that it will ever be enough.

Perhaps it’s the lack of freedom that keeps making you feel this way. You certainly have enough exertion in your life to give you probable cause to feel something a little stronger. After all, you and your fellow Gladers are the only things keeping you from certain death. Despite your best efforts, though, you cannot shake the obvious truth that you are in a prison, and that prison will keep you tied down until the day you die. In the life you lead, that may come sooner than you think.

Death is common enough in the Glade, as evident by the small graveyard in the back of the Deadheads. It should be enough to convince you of the merit of your own life, to let you seize the day because you know quite well that it may be your last. Still, your hours peter off into drudgery, and you cannot make yourself believe that any one of your days are worth the effort you put into them.

Shouting voices echo around you like the calls of birds, and you dimly realize that this must mark the end of the work day. Everyone has been released from their shifts at last. Most of the boys head over to their friends, slinging arms around shoulders and sharing what happened to them during the past few hours, all the jokes that have been quietly stewing in their heads now begging to be spoken aloud for greatest comedic effect.

Not all of the Gladers seem so happy to be off work, though. It’s not like they’re begging to be let back into their daily jobs, they’re just more like you, more apathetic. You wrap up the task you were doing before break was called and head out, rambling aimlessly through the Glade in search of something to fill your hours.

You used to be more like the more exuberant Gladers once, but you’ve been here for what’s coming up on three years. Despite all the work it takes to maintain the place, the Glade is small, and you can feel the walls of the Maze bearing down on you, forcing you to stay in place. You made your jokes a long time ago, their fountains of cheer have now run dry. There are no hilarious anecdotes left in you, just a deep, shifting weight of too much time on your hands.

You’re still not alone, though, despite your best assumptions. Soon enough, you’re greeted by your own name shouted aloud, your own friend coming up to grin at you. Newt’s been here almost as long as you have, yet he still finds a way to make his days worth something. There was a time, once, when he couldn’t. Neither of you dare to bring it up, but your eyes still flicker over to his bad leg every now and then when you’re sure he can’t see it.

Newt, in his tenure, has learned to read you just as well as the grounds of the Glade. He taps a hand lightly against your shoulder blade to get your attention.

“What’s up with you?” He asks, frowning slightly. “You seem more tired than normal. Sleep alright?”

You lift a shoulder. “Sleep was fine. It’s just– I’m sick of this place, you know? Nothing ever changes.”

“Repetition keeps us safe,” Newt reminds you, “I’m more worried about what happens when things start changing.”

You sigh. “I know. I’m glad to be alive, obviously, but how long are we supposed to be here, doing all this? The Creators had to have put us in here for a reason, but I just don’t get it.”

Newt nods slowly. “I’ve been thinking a lot of the same things. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, though. When the time comes and our situation starts shifting, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

He says his last bit with a sort of smile, and once again you’re amazed by how he’s able to stay positive so easily. If there is a pessimistic bone in his body, Newt is able to cover it up with the grace of a master illusionist.

Unable to hold your tongue, you ask him about it. “How are you able to do that? Stay so happy about everything, I mean. Why is your patience still intact?”

Newt chuckles. “I have a fairly good reason to make my days matter.”

He doesn’t clarify on what that means, but his eyes linger on you a second longer than normal. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, but force yourself to glance away lest you think too much into it.

Newt’s not wrong about the changes, though. The next Greenie Day is as normal as they come, even if the latest arrival tries to hurl himself into the Maze the second he appears. Thomas seems like he’ll be a fine addition to the Glade, all up until another Greenie arrives the next day. She’s unconscious, although between the fact that she knows Thomas’ name and comes bearing a note that says she’ll be the last one, ever, you’re not liking your odds that this will be quickly forgotten.

You and Newt spend your hours talking this latest development over with Alby. The three of you have been here the longest, or at least the longest of the surviving Gladers, but even your shared experience can’t come up with much explanation of what to do next. All that remains is to stay calm and hope that an avenue of escape presents itself as soon as possible.

Maybe that’s why Alby was so eager to go into the Maze the second Minho showed up one afternoon, out of breath and talking about having found a dead Griever. It’s another change, and everyone’s already on edge from the new girl’s arrival. A dead Griever could mean many things, but if it even hints at a way out, Alby feels that he has to see it for himself.

In the end, you’re not sure if he was right or wrong to visit the corpse of the Griever. Alby and Minho stay in the Maze longer and longer, to the point where a small group of Gladers starts clustering around the Doors to see if they’re coming or not. Although the gathering starts small, enough people head there after work that almost the entire population of the Glade, minus Teresa and a few others, finds themselves camped outside the gap in the stone walls.

Newt exchanges glances with you, both of you piercingly aware of the fact that Alby and Minho may not make it out. In that case, responsibility for leading the Glade will fall to Newt, but neither of you are remotely concerned with a sudden promotion, more what the loss of two of your closest friends will feel like. Although you hoped for change, this is too much.

Eventually, you see them, two straggling figures appearing around the corner of the far wall of the Maze. The Gladers erupt in shouts and cheers, begging them to have the strength to return home through volume and spirit alone. Even with the added motivation, though, you can tell that it’s no use. The time has come for the Doors to close, there’s no way your friends can make it back in time. Minho is almost carrying an unconscious Alby, he won’t be able to get both of them through the Doors.

It takes the Doors themselves starting to close to convince you of what you have to do. You won’t let your friends die here, not if there’s something you can do about it, no matter how small. You haven’t lived in a long time, too caught up in the monotony of having to survive, so at least now you can die for a purpose.

You look at Newt one last time before you go. He knows what you’re going to do, you think, you can see the flare of panic starting to rise in his eyes. Even Newt’s split second reaction is too slow, though, and you’re running through the Doors before he can pull you back.

The Doors slam shut behind you with a sickening thud. Minho looks horrified that you’d risk your life to try and save him and Alby, but you think that some selfish part of him is secretly glad that he won’t have to die alone. You help him hide Alby in some broken off hole in one of the Maze walls, but after that, the two of you have nothing to do except try not to die.

A few hours into the whole mess, you realize that you were wrong, terribly wrong. Dying will not make you feel alive, even in the midst of a glorious self sacrifice to save one of the few boys you’ve known the longest, it just makes you finally understand how much you’ll be losing.

For once, you want nothing more than to delve back into that safe, sheltered monotony. Let the sun shine on your face once more, let you walk to dinner complaining with Newt about how the Builders can’t seem to stop themselves from causing fights. Even something so simple as waking up in your own hammock seems like a miracle right now.

It’s there in that moment, running as fast as you can away from terrifying Grievers, that you fundamentally change your perspective on life as you know it. Your world does not have to be exciting or dangerous for you to feel like you’re truly living, it just has to be good, and what you had before was indeed good.

You use that bright spark of a realization to power you through the night. You’re getting out alive, damn it, no matter what it takes. You and Minho will survive, even if the odds are stacked against you.

Despite your best words of encouragement, you’re still stunned to see the light of dawn filter across the sky. Making it through a night in the Maze is impossible, it always has been. Yet tonight, you and Minho set a new record. It feels amazing.

The two of you take up your positions near the Doors when the time comes. The stone slabs slide away, revealing a frazzled cluster of Gladers waiting for your arrival. The cheers and sighs of relief when your friends realize that you and Minho are alright is like nothing you’ve ever heard before, and you silently beat it into your mind that this is something worth remembering. This celebration is what living truly feels like.

You only allow yourself to relax once Alby is taken away by the Med-Jacks, and slump into your hammock for some much needed rest. For once, the dreamless sleep is all you’ve ever wanted, and you wake several hours later feeling peaceful, although not fully recovered.

As you pass Gladers and friends throughout the day, you’re met with proud smiles and fascinated whispers. Most of them are amazed that you survived, or simply in awe, although you think some are unnerved by it all. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for change, although more than a few Gladers are wary of it.

The one reaction you didn't expect, though, comes later. You’ve been looking for Newt all morning, ever since you saw him in that group waiting for you outside the Doors, but you’ve never gotten a chance to actually speak to him. Every time you try, he melts back into the crowds.

Your time comes later in the morning. You spot him walking through the Deadheads to grab more wood, and eagerly chase him down. You hadn’t realized how much you missed him, even in the few hours since you saw him last, but you’re still overcome with a wave of emotions upon coming face to face with him.

Newt, however, doesn’t seem as enthralled as you are. In fact, he looks almost angry. When he sees you, he throws down his load of lumber with far more irritation than you were expecting, making your steps slow in surprise.

Newt folds his now empty arms across his chest. “So, you made it out.”

You nod hesitantly. “Yes. Some might consider that a cause for celebration, but you look like–”

Unable to control his temper, Newt cuts you off. “What, like you broke a rule? You did, by the way. Non-Runners aren’t allowed in the Maze.”

You laugh incredulously, a sharp sound. “I was saving Minho and Alby. I did what I had to do to protect them.”

Newt scoffs. “And what about me? What about the rest of us, for that matter? You were supposed to die in there, all for nothing. I thought that was it for you. I thought I was going to lose you, all because you made the terrible decision to be a martyr. I can’t– I won’t–”

His words start freezing up in his throat, and you realize a moment before the first tear falls that he’s crying. Newt drags a frustrated hand over his eyes, but it’s too late, you’ve seen the damage. You’ve seen what you did to him by leaving.

Newt is starting to turn away, but you refuse to let this be the way the conversation ends, so you rush over to him and throw your arms around him. He tries to push you off by impulse, but you don’t budge and eventually he just sighs and pulls you closer to him. He smells the same way he always has, bright sunshine and freshly cut grass, although this time it’s tainted by salt from both his tears and yours.

You’re crying too, you realize, both of you choking on sobs because that is the worst punishment in the end, to have to lose the other. You discovered that when you were running for your life in the Maze, but Newt knew from the moment the Doors closed between the two of you.

You manage to gasp out words in between your tears. “I’m not going anywhere, Newt. Not anymore.”

He laughs, the sound muted against your shoulder. “Could have convinced me otherwise earlier. Just swear you won’t do it again, alright? I need you too much for that.”

You smile, pulling away briefly so he can see the sincerity on your face. “I swear. I don’t have to leave anymore, I’ve got you and that’s all that matters.”

It’s true, you realize halfway through saying it. You’ve got your new reason to live, and it begins and ends with the blond boy in front of you. He is all that you will ever need, and that’s just fine with you.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes

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