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newtkive · 3 months

Text

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

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hanasnx · 7 months

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"not alone anymore."

You raked a hand through your hair, the cold night air fogging your breath as you stepped out the sliding glass door. Escaping the full swing of the party inside, you took refuge out on the balcony, and with trembling hands you struggled to take out a cigarette and a lighter. It was freezing out here compared to the stuffy inside, where the hot bodies dancing acted as a space heater. The dampness of your lips caught the cig, allowing you to check your watch for the time, wondering when you should be heading out. Staring at it for longer than a second told you that it had stopped at one AM. “Shit,” you muttered through your lips dangling the cigarette. How long had it been then? Tapping it out of anger didn’t work either, the face of the clock staring blankly at you. Instead, you tried to light your cig, cupping your hand around it. The lighter sparked, but didn’t catch, no matter how many times you rolled it. “C’mon, really?” A couple more times offered no solution, and you were about to toss and stamp the tobacco in your frustration.

“Need a light?” A voice coming from the side startled you, jumping in surprise, and turning to the source. It was dark out, but you could see. The source was tall, and you watched him rifle his pockets.

“Please,” you replied, inviting him over. Gingerly, he stepped to you, and cupped his hand to protect the fire from the wind, offering it to you. You brushed your hair back and leaned in, letting him light the end for you. Gently, you breathed in, and pinched the cig between your fingers so you could blow the smoke away from him. He pocketed the lighter.

“Sorry to scare you, thought you saw me.” he told you, but by this point you’d already forgotten.

“Hm? Oh,” You wrapped an arm under your chest to protect your middle from the air and to prop up your elbow, sipping your cig leisurely. The smoke warmed your lungs. “no sweat. Don’t sweat it,” you mumbled, kicking the ground underneath you to hear your shoe scrape against the concrete. You sniffed, and glanced at him. “Thanks for the light.” He noticed your small smile, and leaned back against the wall.

“No problem. It seemed like you were having a hard time,” Apparently he’d seen you curse at your watch and your lighter.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “I think I’m just ready to go home.”

“What’s keeping you?”

“Nothing, I guess,” You shrugged, rubbing your temple with the hand that held your cig. “Feel like if I go home, I’ll wonder why I didn’t stay. I’ve got that fear of missing out, you know?” You glanced at him after you asked the question, and you caught him looking at you already. You idled, having calmed down from the nicotine rush, you registered who you were speaking with. It hit you how cute this guy was. Dark hair, styled up in disheveled locks. Handsome face, with soft lips and crystal blue eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn he glanced at your mouth.

“I get that,” he said softly, and you inhaled sharply at the sound of his lowered voice.

You adjusted, mimicking him to rest against the wall, and flicking off the ash from your cig. “What about you? Why are you hiding out here?”

“Not really my scene. I’m just a wingman.” He peered over his shoulder to spy his friend cozying up with the woman he’d been talking to. “Looks like I’m a retired wingman.” He returned his gaze to you, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“‘A wingman’?” you parroted in disbelief, and you looked him up and down. “You?” His lips curled at the question, recognizing it for what it was. A subtle flirt. He gave you a sly look, and to change the subject you offered him the butt end of the cig, “Care for a draw?” He accepted it, your cold hands brushing past one another, and you watched the sharp angle of his jawline as he took a drag.

“Yeah, believe it or not,” he spoke through the smoke, some curling out from his nose. “I’ll be heading out soon.” You were still occupied by the butterflies that erupted in your stomach from the brief contact.

“Shame,” you muttered without realizing, and while he took his second puff he eyed you curiously with a tilt of his head.

“‘Shame’?”

You rolled with it, since it was too late to back track. “Shame,” You shook your head, listening to the bump of the bass inside shake the apartment. “I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come back in with me for a dance.”

“Dance, huh?” he said with interest, handing off the roach. The temperature of your skin giving him an idea. “I’m not a big dancer.”

“I bet you’re great, c’mon,” You found yourself wanting him to stay. “Just one, I’ll be really nice even if you make a fool of yourself,” you assured, coaxing him.

He merely shook his head, “Maybe next time,” It was an empty promise. “Nah, I wanna grab a cup of coffee. You should come with.”

“I’m just saying, I find it hard to believe that out of every animal on the planet you’d wanna be a… porcupine.”

He eyed you over the rim of his mug, brows furrowed. He hissed when he placed it down. “And I’m just saying, that in a world full of predators, I’m gonna be the guy with the impaling armor.”

You shimmied in your seat, sizing him up. “You wouldn’t wanna be a predator?” you teased. “Most guys I ask usually go for one of the big cats, gator, rhino, or gorilla—“

“—Those are the most popular options—?”

“— From the guys I’ve asked, yes!” A smile tugged at his lips from the conversation, and you continued. “It’s science, really.”

“Science?”

“Science. I’m telling you. There’s a psychology to it.”

“Explain,” He took another sip of his coffee. The diner you two occupied was cool toned, greens and silvers and blues. Empty, except for a gray bearded man in the corner, and the two of you sitting on the bar stools, facing each other.

“The guys who say they’d be gator, those are the rednecks,” You began, and with fake interest, your companion perked up in his seat, flashing you a wide eyed expression.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” you told him playfully, reaching over to nudge his shoulder. He rested his cheek on his fist, and gestured for you to go on. “So those are gonna be the guys with the camo, they’re from Florida primarily, probably carry without a license.” You listed on your fingers, crossing your legs. “Gorilla guys are the big, buff for no reason— like The Rock-level buff— maybe less. From my research,” He raised his brows at you in feigned intrigue, knowing this was based on nothing but your own observations. “they’re more of the hit-first-ask-questions-later type. Rhinos too, however I think Rhinos are the more husky of the two. Other than that, those have been pretty interchangeable. Now, the cats, that’s where it gets interesting.” He checked his watch and glanced up at you, and you rolled your eyes at his bad joke. “I’m almost done. Lions are the vain type, usually long hair, real pretty boys, probably have a tattoo of one or want a tattoo of one.” Your eyes searched the ceiling, feeling hot under his gaze for talking this long. “Tigers are the serene type, zen, yoga, I’ve-trained-with-a-bo-staff and studied-abroad. Jaguars, usually black jaguars, are the goths. The piercings, the tats, the rockstar hair, skinny jeans, and tight v-necks.” You met his eyes.

“Done?”

“Mm-hmm,” You sipped your coffee, and added some cream before tasting it again.

“So what about porcupine guys? What do you think of them?” he asked, downing the last of his drink. You saw how his downturned lips attempted to hide his smile, betraying his eagerness to hear your opinion of him.

“Pretty cool, I guess.” You pushed out your lips, letting your gaze travel generously this time. “Tall, lanky—“ You noted the shift in his expression, and you revised, “—toned,” You narrowed your eyes, gauging his reaction. When it was satisfactory, you moved on, “Nice hair, pretty eyes. Very cool leather jacket.”

“What about personality?” he interjected, leaning back in his chair, and you were unable to ignore how he spread his knees.

“Calm,” Was your first thought, and he quieted. “charming, endearing.” Your gazes met, locking eyes as you finished. “Hopelessly alluring.”

As if to taunt you ever further, your companion inclined into your direction— and marginally you leaned in— but his purpose was to shed his leather jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Only encouraging his suspicions of your helpless attraction, you stare unapologetically, mesmerized by his elegant movement, and how close the two of you were. His dirty trick had done its dirty deed, and he folded the jacket within itself, tossing it onto the bar behind him so he could face you in his black turtleneck. One that highlighted his figure that had you wondering if he modeled clothing wear by the way he sported it like it was made for him. You moistened your lips and he glanced down at them, drawn to you like a moth to flame.

His voice was soft, feather-light and carressed your ears like a saint’s prayer. “So what animal did you choose?”

Having been lost in such a small and seemingly insignificant disrobing, you were stupefied. You shook your head as if to clear your brain fog, responding dreamily, “What?”

Since you required reengaging, he crossed his arms and fixed his elbow at the edge of the bar so he could insert himself further into the conversation. Demanding your attention, and begging you to check out how thick his arms looked in his sleeves. “You ask all these guys their philosophical animals so what did you say when they asked you?”

You flashed a confuddled furrow of your brow. Downturning your lips as you searched the corners of your mind for an answer even when it was doomed to chart a naughty course. “Um…” a single nervous chuckle emitted, “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked, actually.” All of a sudden, you were painfully aware of the kind of men you’ve been wasting your time with.

Perhaps the self-proclaimed “predators” had a bad streak of being conceited.

Somehow, he understood your entire thought process, watching your expressions shift. This was noted, but not commented on. “So?” he awaited your answer.

It took you a second to decide. He had spat his so easy, ready with an explanation as soon as you’d thought up the question. Did he choose a creature based on his preference toward it, or was it just the intelligent answer?

Did it really matter? It shouldn’t, yet here you were, worrying yourself over what this stranger would think of you. Pick you apart like you so carelessly did to the others in front of him. “I’ve always liked white foxes.” Insecure in your decision and how it shone through in your voice, implied an invitation for him to scrutinize you. You expected it.

A very slight shift in his expression, how he tilted his head, and his oceanic blue eyes traveling you from head to toe— was unhelpful in easing your nerves. “A white fox,” he hummed, interested, playful. “The storybook archetype of a clever and intelligent creature.” You swallowed. “The symbol of trickery, or luck, depending on your culture.” He bowed his head forward to catch your eye, looking at you through his brows, “Cunning, silver-tongued, and beautiful. However,” The start of his new sentence implied something promising, adjusting in his seat to tap his finger onto the bar. “a white fox suggests you hide something.”

It refreshed you to hear his thoughts about you. Eloquently stated, without sparing too many details. You hadn’t connected any dots without his assistance, but you were more alike to a white fox than you anticipated. Your famed animal inquiry allowed you a small and idiotic window into how people thought of themselves. Not only had he played your game, but he turned it around on you.

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from each other.

“I like a good mystery.”

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dreamqueenkala · 2 years

Note

Hii! Do you think you mind to do the quarry boys' kinks headcanons? You can do it as gn if you'd like to. Thanks (really enjoy your works btw hehe x)

Headcanon Series #2

The Male Counselors and their Kinks

{MINORS DNI 18+ ADULT CONTENT BELOW READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION}

MAX BRINLY

Collaring/Manhandling—As much as the guy loves to appear like the protective, strong, dominant male in public, in bed he’s a total sub. He loves to feel your hands on the back of his neck forcing him to move a certain direction or keeping his head in place between your thighs. Despite the originally harsh memories it brought up the first time you suggested it(having been a werewolf and all), Max actually adores wearing a collar. Not in public, of course, but at home he’ll gladly kneel or let you drag him around the house by the thick black leather clasped around his throat.

Thigh Riding/Thigh Fucking—Max is a very horny man. If he can’t fuck you right then and there when he’s in the mood, whether it’s due to the location or fatigue or you’re just not up for it at the time, he’ll gladly settle for fucking your thighs in a bathroom stall or over the bed. When you’re the one that’s needy, Max will gladly lay himself out over the couch or the backseat of the pickup you both own and allow you to ride his thigh til you reach your high. It’s not much of a secret that he can get off to the praise you give him for helping you through your release.

JACOB CUSTOS

Body Worship—It may sound like a strange kink, but honestly it depends how far it goes. For Jacob, he simply wants to shower every inch of you in love. As a man with severe insecurity and a strong desire to satisfy and please those he cares for, he wants nothing more than to make you feel loved and feel comfortable in your own skin at all times. Hence, he’ll shower your thighs, chest, belly, ass, neck—every inch of your body in kisses, bites and murmured praises. When you return the favor by kissing his biceps or his hips or his thighs, the male is left a stuttering, submissive, pink-cheeked mess, his heart swelling with adoration and eyes swimming with awe.

Little Spooning—He may not seem like the kind of guy to enjoy this at first glance, but Jacob adores cuddling. Especially when he gets to be the little spoon. He loves falling asleep with your arms and legs curled around his back like a koala, and he adores resting his head over your chest, hips placed between your thighs as he drifts off listening to your heart thrum and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. It may not necessarily qualify as a kink, but let’s be real, unless you ask him to Jacob is more than likely gonna be the biggest golden-hearted teddy bear ever—even during sex.

RYAN ERZAHLER

Hair Pulling—As soft spoken and mysterious as he may seem, Ryan has a bit of a dark side in the bedroom. Sure, he’s touch starved and awkward most of the time, but once he’s grown comfortable enough with you he’s bound to tell you all his dirty fantasies in extreme detail. His favorite, of course, is grasping a fistful of your hair, a familiar lust-ridden smirk settling on his face everytime you moan or whimper with a tug here and there. He’s a softie, though, so he’s bound to cuddle and soothe you after a deep session. He may even run his fingers through your soft tresses to soothe your scalp.

Bondage—Ryan LOVES bondage, more specifically, you tying him up. Despite how rough he can be in bed and on the occasion that he lets you lead, his only request is that you bind him. Granted, he finds being unable to touch you while you ride him or he’s forced the devour you incredibly arousing, but he mainly asks because he knows watching you bounce in his lap and hearing the sweet whimpers leaving your perfect pink lips may be too much for him to resist. When it comes to you, he has no control. For your sake, I suggest you learn how to tie a good knot.

NICK FURCILLO

Degradation—He is deeply in love with being talked down to. That’s right, he wants to be degraded. He’s a bit of a soft Dom, fucking you slow and gentle with powerful thrusts, but when he’s edged you far too long, it’s perfectly normal for you to lose your cool. “Pathetic, you can’t even fuck me like you mean it. Needy bitch.” That strikes a chord in him that has his hips hammering into your own and his teeth digging into your shoulder, whimpers muffled against your skin. You talk your shit and he’ll have your hips bruised from the sheer force of his thrusts jackhammering against you. You won’t be able to move for at least three days.

Cockwarming—Nick is shy, that much is certain, and that also means that he’s not likely to voice his desires often, especially in public. Once you’ve been together long enough, you start to pick up on his tells, and eventually work your way into convincing him to speak up. He’ll tell you after one sweet intimate night that he’s been dying to stay buried inside you—the next night you let him. He’ll be wrapped around you, cock buried between your thighs and still pulsing inside you slightly as you both drift off. When he wakes, often after you’ve already woken, he’s likely to find you enjoying your own morning, your hips rolling against his own. He doesn’t last long then.

DYLAN LENIVY

Edging—Dylan is a HUGE tease. Absolutely 100% the biggest tease you’ll ever meet. He’ll toy with you in public once you’re together, working you up and then leaving you dry. It’s his favorite thing to watch your cheeks warm with both embarrassment and arousal, your thighs clenched and your hands tugging your shirt down over your hips. When he’s got you in bed, the man will push you to your limits. He loves the feel of you clenching around his fingers or tongue, watching your cheeks flush and hearing you whimper. It’s got him throbbing in his own jeans painfully, edging you with his mouth over and over and over again til he’s got you begging him to fuck you, tears of overstimulation and desperation in your eyes. At that point, Dylan will kiss them away and pepper you with the most affectionate praise, finally fulfilling your wish.

Sensory Deprivation—Dylan isn’t really a very “kinky” person, per se, however, he does have good taste. As a man of science(even though most of it revolves around physics), he’s got quite a bit of knowledge in anatomy. He’s well aware what the limits to one’s senses are and fully intends to test them in bed. Not on you, but rather on himself. He’ll have you tie a blindfold around his eyes, and occasionally he’ll have you cover his ears with noise canceling ear muffs. You’ll have to guide him, then, because he can’t see or hear, but whether you’re riding him or he’s fucking you into the mattress, the sensation is a thousand times more pleasurable than normal. He typically doesn’t cum first, but in that situation, he’ll cum twice before you have the opportunity to cum at all.

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montysstuffs · 2 years

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🌸The boys and their aftercare🌸

AN: I KINDA WROTE SOME FLUFF~ I know I pretty much only write smut, but this has been in my drafts for a bit and I’m clearing it out. So here it is! I also remembered Max this time! I hope you enjoy💕 I tried to be as Gender neutral as possible!

Ryan

Giving: Ryan will run you a nice hot bath. He sits on the edge he of the tub and throws in a bath bomb. Chuckling silently to himself at how excited you get at the fizzing ball. Once the water is at a desired temperature, he slips into the bath with you. He squeezes your favorite shampoo into his hand, warming it up before lathering your hair in it. All while talking to you about how your day has been. He loves to listen to your sweet voice. But if you’re not one to talk, that’s okay too! He’s more than happy to do the talking for you. Or just sit in a comfortable silence as he bathes you. Receiving: He absolutely loves when you take care of the scratches on his back. Sometimes you dig enough to break skin. Leaving splotches of red across his back. He hisses as you take a warm towel to his back. After you wipe off the blood, you follow it up with dabs of alcohol to the cuts. “Ouch!” He pouts as he slouches forward, not at all enjoying the cleaning process. You move to the front of his chest now. Doing the same process all over again. “Ow-“ you close his mouth before he can finish his word, “I haven’t even touched you yet.” His cheeks heat up a bit in embarrassment, “oh, sorry.”

Nick

Giving: He will tell you to keep lying down and not to move and inch. You wince are the cold lotion being applied to your back. “Sorry, should’ve warmed it up in my hand before.” He massages the lotion into your aching and sore muscles. Making sure to pay extra attention to every single mark he left, and kiss it. Letting you know that you’re all his, and he loves you. He’ll massage every inch of your body, from the tips of your fingers, to the pads of your toes. He wants to give as much relaxation as possible. Receiving: Loves the showers afterwards with you. You are lathering up his chest in soap. He grips your wrist, staring down at you with a different sparkle in his brown eyes. He leans down and places a soft kiss to your lips. Not at all the same type of kiss that you had shared an hour ago, but one still full of love and admiration.

Jacob

Giving: he’ll get you your favorite ice cream and throw up a movie while in bed. He’s happy to have your head on his broad chest as you slowly drift off into sleep. He is definitely the type to run his fingers through your hair. Even give you a little scalp massage while he’s at it. He’ll brush your hair, tie it up, style it for the night, anything you want. Receiving: Likes communication. He wants to know what you liked or didn’t like. He also really likes to be told how valued he is. He can get insecure sometimes, so when you tell him how much he means to you, he almost cries. And that’s okay! Crying is healthy. He beats himself up too much and would love for you to be his anchor. He absolutely loves to talk and loves that he can be his most vulnerable self.

Dylan

Giving: He sometimes struggles to go through the entire night time routine, but he does what he remembers. He will start with a quick shower, still holding you close under the warm water. Peppering kisses all over your face until you are pruny and beg him to stop. Next is your cleanser and face masks. He just wants you to sit there and be pretty. Just talk him through it and he’ll get the hang of it! Once that’s done he’ll sit you up in front of him and brush your hair. Making sure to detangle it as gently as possible. Receiving: Loves to hear you sing. Will ask you to serenade him whether you can sing or not. He’ll even make a playlist for you both to cuddle up and listen to together. And by listen to, I mean he’ll listen to you sing every single word off key and fall in love with you even more every time.

Max

Giving: He makes/brings you your favorite snack as well as share a water bottle with you. He wants you to stay hydrated at all times. “Hydrate or diedrate,” he always says. He has a stash of your favorite snacks under the bed so Laura won’t eat them all from you. Or if you’d like, he’ll ask you to join him in cooking dinner. Of course you don’t have to do anything, he just likes your company. Receiving: He isn’t a very complex man. He loves to just lie in bed and cuddle afterwards. He loves the savor the moments where your legs are overlapping his and your face buried into his neck. Give him little kisses every now and then and he’ll be over the moon.

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musewritingsforyou · 10 months

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A Normal? Day

Summary: A normal day in the life of Beacon Hills Favorite Couple

Warnings: unbearable Fluff, plot points that wont make sense just yet

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I realized I dont have any of my Stiles work updated yet! This is just a short little oneshot to show people what my stiles writing will kind of be like. I wrote it to be included in a season rewrite that I am doing but It didnt fit great so now im just giving it to you for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*somethings that wont make sense to you will be explained if you go read my series rewrite in the next few weeks!*

A normal day in a supernatural world.

Step one, wake up.

Waking up is a long process for me. My lovely hyperactive boyfriend did what he always does for me each morning, wake up about thirty minutes before me, sit there as still as he can (which is not very still) to let me sleep in, give up after ten minutes and then get out of bed. Stiles woke up at six this morning, playing with my hair as I slept before he finally got out of bed. Like every morning since we started doing this, he placed his pillow and a spare flannel in my arms so I wouldn't ‘get cold and lonely’, and then went to get himself ready for school. This was a relatively short process, throw on some pants, decide between a sweatshirt or a flannel, find the backpack and then he's pretty much done. For me on the other hand, it's a little different.

“y/n/n, I gave you five extra minutes. You gotta get up.” I groaned and moved the pillow that was in my arms to cover my face. To my disappointment Stiles took it off and started peppering me with kisses until I opened my eyes with a scowl on my face.

“I love you but I really hate you.” He gave me a classic Stiles grin as he moved backwards off of the bed.

“I know, you make sure to tell me that every time I wake you up.”

After walking out the door, and then back to it within seconds to make sure I was actually getting up, Stiles went downstairs to make some coffee and left me to get ready. I was running late, per usual, but by the time I made it to the car all of my things were there waiting for me, along with Stiles who held out a travel cup of coffee just the way I like it and forcibly handed me a banana.

“Eat.” I shook my head and motioned for him to drive.

“Too early, If I eat right now I'll actually puke all over your car.” He started the car and drove with one hand as he kept the banana extended.

“Babe, we do this every morning and every morning I remind you that-” I snatched the fruit from his hand as I finished his sentence.

“Breakfast is important and if you don't eat it in three hours you're going to come to me during class with a panicked look on your face telling me you think you're about to pass out. I know, I remember.”

I sound sarcastic like this every morning, but even through the snide remarks and the occasional unnecessary and undeserved insult, Stiles still looks at me like I'm the answer to the universe.

Step two, school. For this one I recommend that you don’t do what I manage to do every year, fill your schedule with all honors and AP classes, zero breaks or study halls, and more than three extra-curriculars.

I won't bore you with the rather slow details of a highschool senior. I will however give you this, classes are hard, I don't think I will ever be able to use a red pen in my entire life, and with each passing day somehow I find a way to be even more stressed than the day before.

The day ended with me sitting on a bench with Lydia and Malia, watching our boys play lacrosse from across the field and inevitably laughing our asses off whenever either of them would look over to make a face at us and get tackled or hit with something from the field. Ah the simple pleasures, you know? As we both waited for Stiles and Scott, Lydia and I spread our various school textbooks out on the bench in front of us, in all about sixteen heavy books set open as we studied. When Coach finally blew his whistle with one ear shattering blow after another the boys ran to us, practically dripping in sweat. Stiles bound up the bleachers, skipping some of the steps and leaned down in front of me, waiting for a kiss. I didn't look up from my textbook, and neither did Lydia as she responded to the boys while hovering over her calculus homework.

“Nice try boys, but before you even think about going anywhere but a dog kennel, you need to take showers.” There were a few mumbled protests but again without looking up she shooed them with her hands.

“Come on, off you go.” I giggled a little as they marched away in defeat, their cleats making a crunching sound when they reached the grass.

Step three, finally to get home, only to have to go to a pack meeting.

Like every other Friday the pack all met in Scotts living room, this time all agreeing to stay away from anything breakable. I promised Melissa I wouldn't let them destroy the house while she was out, and I keep my promises. At the moment there were no big problems. Though I still wince a little when I say it, it seems like everything in Beacon Hills is… normal. As weird as that sounds. But we still meet once a week, every week it becomes more of a group study/hangout than a real meeting, but spending time with our friends was more valuable than any solution we had come up with before. The only issue to discuss at this meeting was me. I wouldn't call it an issue exactly, but after finding out about my… species? People? Clan? I don't know what to call it, but after finding out about what I am, we still have almost no information about what that really means, for me or for them.

“Liam, as much as I appreciate the input, I don’t think being a truth seeker literally means that I can cheat on multiple choice tests. Even if it did, morally I will tell you again, cheating is a bad thing, and also none of my classes use multiple choice.”

They all tried their best to put Stiles and I at ease, telling us that in time we would figure it all out. But that was the thing, we didn't have time. We’re seniors just a few months from leaving this town for college, and once I leave I don't see myself flying across the country once a week just so that I can make sure I know the “truth” of Beacon Hills. The sun finally set and Stiles and I said our goodbyes, walking hand in hand out the jeep before heading to his house for the night.

Step four, stay up until three in the morning looking for answers about what supernatural powers you have. yeah , I know, that one's a kicker.

As soon as Stiles and I stepped foot in the door of his room we threw off our bags and changed into sweatpants. I took the flannel he gave to me this morning and placed it over my tank top as we stood in front of his clear board as if waiting for an idea to come to us by itself. The board was still blank, nothing there but a picture of me and Stiles together at the lookout in the woods. A little reminder that no matter what crazy ideas are thrown onto this board, we always have each other. We settled into our usual spots, Stiles standing and pacing in the middle of the room while I spread books and papers out over his bed, laying on my stomach and staring into the pages.

Finally, Step five, wait for the full frustration to kick in, and then once it's there, find a cute boy to calm you down.

I was laying flat on my stomach with four books in front of me, two from school, two from Lydia on the supernatural. I was hoping that in between my AP calculus homework and my college physics textbook I could figure out something new about my identity. News flash, it wasn't working. I groaned at the words in front of me, frustrated that for some reason the letters were swimming in and out. I took the books (all four of them) and slammed them shut before throwing them aggressively onto the ground in front of Stile’s bed and then taking the papers and just tossing them onto the air without any thought of aim or purpose. Stiles stopped pacing and stood still in front of his board, which now had a few red squiggles here and there along with the photo and a horrible attempt at drawing a wolf. He turned slowly to me with a marker in his hands.

“You good?”

“Not really.” He nodded and walked over, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed and putting the marker down. While I was still lying on my stomach he placed a hand on my back and rubbed it slowly.

“baby, do you know what time it is right now?” I placed my head in my hands and responded.

“No. Do I want to?”

“No, but I'm going to tell you anyway. It's three in the morning.” I said nothing and just signed into my hands. Stiles ignored my angry sighs and continued.

“Babe do you know what that means?” I shook my head.

“Well first of all it means that you are probably exhausted, which is why you're getting so frustrated with yourself, but more importantly it means that we have two hours before that night time diner downtown closes.” I looked up fast.

“Are you talking about the one with the pie, and the fries and the shakes.” He looked at me very seriously and nodded. Without another word I popped up on the bed and threw on a pair of crocs.

“Stiles, no matter what I say in the mornings when you wake me up, I love you so much I think you might even be higher on my list than eating pie at three in the morning.” He gave me a broad smile and kissed me on the cheek.

“Say no more, love.”

#teen wolf #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #oneshot #dylan o'brien #reader insert

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delopsia · 2 years

Note

can you do something nsfw dylan lenivy x reader? Please,i need this,I really love your writing <3

oh oh i almost forgot about my plans for dylan oh no

Word Count: 2,700 Warnings: Mild swearing, oral sex (reader giving), not beta read in the slightest. Slightly subby Dylan because I'm a whore & Gender-Neutral reader Cross Posted Here On AO3

The keys are heavy in your hand, cold against your clammy skin, heavier than you expected. You're still catching up to what just happened; exhausted gray cells struggle to connect two and two, even as you watch Mr. H's truck fly down the dirt driveway. It disappears in a cloud of red dust, an angry engine echoing throughout the unusually empty quarry.

"Anyone have 'Being Abandoned In The Woods' on their bingo card?" Dylan's always been faster processing these sudden events than you are.

In just a few seconds, your rag-tag group has been stunned into a trance, eyes glazed over, fixated on the empty driveway before you. Forgotten, the van continues to burn, flames licking out from under the hood. Kaitlyn opens her mouth to speak, blinks, but nothing comes out.

A pale hand waves in front of your eyes. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"No," just like that, you've broken from your trance. Dylan hesitates, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. You know this look. He's always so focused on maintaining his false persona, coming up with jokes and reactions for situations that haven't happened yet, that deviations from his predicted scenarios throw him off.

In the silence that follows, it strikes you that your peers have turned their attention to the two of you. Dylan grinds his teeth, face growing increasingly pale; you've thrown him off, and he's struggling to get back on.

And everyone's witnessing it.

"Is anyone going to put out the fire?" You blurt, waving your empty hand towards the heavy black smoke.

Like a dam broken, everyone moves. Nick runs for the hose, Jacob and Ryan go for buckets. You'd help if you weren't suddenly concerned for your luggage, stored in the back of the smoke-filled van. Opening the trunk feels like opening the door to a hot oven; the heat hits you like a freight train.

A flurry of hands reach for the bags, already warm to the touch, tossing them haphazardly from the trunk and to the ground. A little bit of dirt is better than being fodder for a surprise vehicle fire. It feels like forever passes before the boys come back with water.

"Jacob, move!" Nick's run out of hose, can't move any further and Jacob's hulking frame is directly in the way.

Jacob's selective hearing doesn't acknowledge Nick's plea. Not until cold water hits the back of his head, at least. "Hey!"

"I told you to move!"

The rest of the argument goes over your head. as amusing as it is to watch Jacob get pelted by cold water, it's hard to focus on. Not when Dylan lingers next to you, fidgeting like he just got caught sneaking a cookie from the cookie jar.

"You okay?" Your own voice feels foreign.

"Yeah," he's not. You're both aware of that, painfully so, but there isn't much you can do when you have an audience. Not when he's kept up this act for the better half of two months.

The keys in your hand feel heavier as the flames under the hood of the van sizzle and begin to die out, no thanks to Jacob. Had Mr. H always carried so many keys? How does he even know which key goes to what when so many of them look identical? Only one of them is labeled.

'Office.' Hm. Maybe you do have an idea.

"Y/N?" Oh God, why is Jacob saying your name?

"Huh?" Blinking, you return to reality, finding that all eyes are now on you. Did you say something?

"Are you in?" Jacob's elaboration isn't helping. "...party? Tonight? Huh?"

Oh.

"Yeah," you breathe, clutching the keys in your hand, "I'm in."

You'll never understand why any of the councilors ask if everyone else is in when they always end up doing it, even if someone is against it. There's a look in Ryan's eye that says he tried and failed; next to you, Abigail fidgets with the same discomfort. Whatever, what's the worst that can happen at a bonfire?

"To charge the phones," you'd said, followed it up with a "so we can have music at the campfire" for extra measure. At the very least, you should be feeling the slightest twinge of remorse for lying straight through your teeth. Your conscience must be on vacation because the little devil on your shoulder tells you that you should have done this much earlier.

The door to Mr. H's office creaks open; such a tiny noise sounds so loud in the unusually quiet building. For the past two months, these walls have not known a moment of silence; the lack of laughter and endless chatter is almost eerie.

"Ooo, spinny chair!" You'd almost forgotten that Dylan was lingering behind you this whole time. Evidently, you're not used to Dylan being so quiet, either.

"I was beginning to think you'd gone mute," you tease, locking the door behind you.

"I did," he all but throws himself into the chair, and for a second, you're concerned that it's going to tip, "the chair cured my ailments."

The way your eyes roll is a pure reflex, a new habit you've developed ever since the day you met him. You don't even realize that you're doing it anymore; it's so commonplace when you're talking to Dylan.

"I still can't believe that Mr. H left like that," you're talking, but only to distract him from the thoughts brewing in the back of your mind. "Could you imagine all the trouble we could get up to without supervision?" Your words are carefully chosen, your tone steady; there's the slightest sway in your hips as you walk over to the desk.

Dylan is more observant than anyone gives him credit for, even if he doesn't catch on right away. You know he's figured out you're up to something by the way he settles his hands along the curves of your waist, by the way he guides you to sit across his lap.

There's that glaze over his eyes again, unsure and stiff, yet he melts like butter when you bring your hand up to his cheek. Like a cat, he nuzzles his cheek into your hand, eager to soak up any and all affection you're willing to give him.

"Just a bunch of unsupervised adults in the middle of nowhere," he says, slowly; he's still working on where he's going with this one, "what crimes could we possibly commit?"

You hum as if you're lost in deep thought, "I've got a few ideas." Now it's your turn to fumble for words. How exactly does one tell their boyfriend, "hey, I know you've been having a day, and I wanna suck your dick under the table to make you feel better," without being too abrupt with it and risking scaring him off?

But then his eyes are widening, there's the slightest twitch from under his slacks, and you're realizing that you just said that whole train of thought out loud.

"I..." he stammers, cheeks the sweetest shade of pink as he leans further into your open palm for comfort, "well, I'm...not...going to stop you." He can't look you in the eye, always so bashful when you initiate things.

"Really?" Adjusting yourself until you're straddling his hips, and it's a miracle that you can fit on this tiny chair with him.

You're almost concerned that he may just faint, but then he's bumping your noses together, and in the softest voice you've ever heard, he says, "I'd like that."

His lips brush against yours, shy like it's the first time he's kissed you. It's such a stark contrast to the persona he's put on, dizzying at times. You let him meet you the whole way, running your fingers through his hair, resting at his nape. He hums when you dip your head down, lips carefully lacing in the most elegant of dances, slow and deliberate. Kissing him feels like floating among the clouds, and when your head begins to spin, you're convinced that you're already on one.

"You don't have to," he murmurs against your lips, in between kisses, "not if you don't want to." He talks too much.

Your tongue delves in to meet his, and the whine that ripples out of him makes your heart skip a beat. He always makes such pretty noises. You don't miss the way he grips your waist a little tighter, nor do you miss the way his hips twitch up into you. Lungs stinging, you retreat for a breath, but he follows you, kisses you with a fervor you rarely get to experience. His breath is hot against your lips, but his tongue is hotter.

Just when the stars are beginning to appear behind your eyelids, he pulls back, panting against your lips. Between heavy breaths, you kiss down his neck, lingering on the sensitive spots that have him squirming below you.

"That's," he gasps, jolting as your teeth sink into his collarbone.

"That's...what?" You tease, sucking lightly at the thin skin stretched over the bone.

You can't see it, but you can feel the eye roll; it's audible in the way he huffs, leans his head back against the chair a little too dramatically. The chair sways alarmingly with the motion and threatens to tip you over at any given moment. As gracefully as your position will allow, you sink from the chair, settling on your knees.

The sight that greets you is far too familiar; you've lost count of how many times you've done this. Just how many times you've kissed his clothed knee as your dominant hand fumbles with his jeans, popping open the button and lowering the zipper.

"This is so much better than hiding behind a tree," Dylan breathes, shaky fingers curling behind your head, "why did I not think of this sooner?"

His attempt at being snarky is poorly timed; the fingertips that previously teased at the edge of his boxers come to a halt. Silent, you sit back on your haunches, blank eyes trained on his.

Dylan squirms, his knee bumping your shoulder, "Okay, okay!" You have to settle a hand on one of his thighs, suddenly afraid he may jump out of the chair like a fish out of water. "I'm sorry, it was a bad joke; this was all your idea."

That's the best apology you suppose you'll get.

Your fingers dip under the elastic waistband; he's always situated off to the left, you've noticed. It proves correct once again when your fingers brush against hot flesh, and Dylan jumps.

He fits in your hand perfectly, cock hard and leaking as you draw him out from his boxers. This should be routine, at this point. Dylan has no reason to gasp that prettily when your tongue glides up, from base to tip, you do this every single time, and yet he still makes the sweetest noises to the same old tricks. It makes your heart flutter, a stark contrast to the lewd sound of your tongue tracing around his head, salty precum bold on your tongue.

"Jesus," he whines, eyes squeezed shut.

As much as you'd like to tease him, simply suck on the head until he's begging you to take him deeper, you're starting to hear the councilors mulling around outside. All it takes is one nosey person to peek through the cracks in the blinds and see you here, and you're not sure if either of you can handle the shame of being caught in Mr. H's office.

It's easy, wrapping your lips around him and gently suckling on the tip, tongue rubbing against the underside, back and forth in a practiced motion. Below you, Dylan squirms, bites into the flesh of his palm to stifle his noises. He's not one to buck up into your mouth, but you place your hands on his hips anyway, bracing yourself.

Hollowing your cheeks, you lower your head, taking him in until the head bumps into the back of your throat. Fighting the urge to gag, you hold him there for a second, fingers wrapping around what length you can't take. Your head begins to bob, finding a comfortable rhythm, humming when he mutters your name under labored breath.

"Fuck, Angel," Dylan's eyes are locked on you, barely open, yet too mesmerized by your motions to close them all the way, "just like that."

Gagging slightly, you take him a little deeper, jaw aching with the effort. Dylan whimpers, hips squirming the tiniest bit, like he doesn't know whether to run away from or chase after the feeling.

Knock_ Knock_

"Dylan? You in there, man?" Ryan's muffled voice is barely audible, but it's there. The doorknob tries, and you're forever grateful that you locked that damn thing.

"Y-yeah, why?" Dylan writhes, pushing on your head, urging for you to pull off of him.

You don't.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He whispers, yet the panic in his voice is lost when you suck a little harder, sink a little further down, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Both hands cling to your head now, holding on for dear life as you pick up your pace, working him over with a fervor that has his thighs trembling.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Y/N went, would you?" Ryan's sweet, he really is, but you really wish he would walk away from the door. You already miss the pretty sounds that fall from Dylan's lips.

"Nope! Haven't, fuck, haven't seen them since they went to find a lighter!" You haven't heard Dylan this pitchy since you first met him; you wonder what else you can do to rile him up like this.

Ryan is quiet for a minute, and for a moment, you're concerned that he may be able to hear the wet, lewd sound of Dylan's dick in your mouth.

"...okay."

Yet, you don't hear him walk away. No thump of boots, no creaking of old wooden floors under heavy footsteps. Your ministrations slow, waiting for the telltale sound of Ryan walking away, all the while, Dylan's face turns redder and redder.

Finally, finally, he walks away, floor squeaking, a door slamming shut.

"Oh, thank fuck," Dylan all but deflates, and you're back to work, eager to ease the ache that's settled in your jaw.

Dylan's grip is growing tighter, keening when you hum around him. His legs are moving, twitching back and forth, needs to move but doesn't want you to pull off. The hand on your head grips tighter.

"I'm..." he starts, in between breaths, "I'm...I'm gonna..."

Swallowing his cum isn't exactly ideal, but now that you think about it, it seems like your only option to avoid a mess. Might as well try this out, then...

"Holy—," Dylan squeaks out, "Angel, please, I—fuck!"

You've taken him impossibly deeper, nose mere centimeters from his navel, cock even further down your throat. Tears sting at the corner of your eyes as you work up and down, fighting your gag reflex with everything you've got, and Dylan is gone.

His back arches off the chair as he cums, hot sticky liquid biting the back of your throat as you try your best to take it all. Head spinning, panting through your nose as you listen to the whimpered mantra of your name.

After a moment, you pull away, throat sore from the abuse it's undergone, and your jaw feels like it's made of jelly. "How was that for making you feel better?" Your voice is shot, rougher than normal, and breaking as you speak.

"Perfect, amazing, wonderful, five out of five stars on Yelp," he's leaning down, pressing a messy kiss to your spit-slicked lips. It's hard to kiss him for very long, not when neither of you can catch your breath, and the stiffness in your knees is screaming at you to get up.

"Now, how do we explain where I've supposedly been," you croak, using the desk for leverage as you climb to your feet. Your body sways, yet strong hands find your waist, supporting you before you can even develop the concern of falling.

"Well," he begins, chocolate brown eyes darting to the door behind you. "We can snoop around? Explore, maybe find Mr. H's secret sex dungeon."

For the umpteenth time today, you roll your eyes. "Of course, what can go wrong?"

372 notes · View notes

alisblackgf · 2 years

Note

hello there! if you wouldn’t mind could i get either kaitlyn or dylan with a crush who enjoys doodling on their arms to relax and one day doodles out a little confession on their arm before claiming they’ve got some camp errands to do and running off before character sees it, and when character is ranting to their friend about how much of a crush they have on reader their friend points out the confession written out on their arm. shenanigans ensue :)

YES. yes. i like doodles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: dylan lenivy x gn!reader (reader has anxiety)

and NO i didnt pick dylan bc of favoritism i spun a wheel and I HAVE PROOF if any of you want to see it

trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety attacks (pure fluff tho yay!)

summary: dylan would let you doodle random things on his arms to help you relax; one day, you decide to let him know how you truly feel, running off before he notices. he rants to kaitlyn about his undying love for you, completely oblivious to the surprise you’d left him.

taglist: @closedaccountss @sweet-daisies @tywrites @walkingus @yawagucci @fallingwings26 @rainbows-dreams @dylanlenievy @aspendvd @bloodverz @laracrof7s @aaetherr69 @zomworlds @jjkk1m

(to apply, click here!)

(also again if your @ isn’t there it means it wasn’t working IM SORRY)

my official apology for the angst fic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“what’s that one?” dylan asked.

“a ufo...kidnapping a dog.”

“it looks like a cow.” he rolled his eyes playfully. you aggressively scribbled on his arm in response. he looked down at it with wide eyes.

“aww, is that me?” dylan expressed with an insufferable sarcastic tone.

“getting kidnapped by a ufo.” you deadpanned.

“not even the aliens could resist me.” he responded, which made you look at him. you stared him directly in the eye, and he did the same.

“whatever, nerdbrain. and also, maybe the dog wants to look like a cow.” you laughed, looking back down to continue your drawings. dylan didn’t stop looking at you, though.

when you first arrived at hackett’s quarry, you often had anxiety attacks. you were in a new area and felt like everything was out of your control, which caused you so much stress.

you worried excessively and were often lost in your own cruel thoughts, but ever since dylan allowed you to doodle on him, the anxiety would still peek its head, but ultimately died down.

dylan loved the fact that you came to him when stressed, and that he (or at least his arms) could make you feel better. it also gave him time to admire you from up-close. jacob and nick would always tease him about it, but he didn’t care. you were just too adorable.

“y’know, for someone so kind to kids, you really are mean.” he speaks up, not averting his gaze from you. he smiled to himself when he felt you scribbling aggressively again.

this time you looked at him with an annoyed smile, which made him look at his arm. you drew a middle finger. he gasped dramatically.

“(y/n)! what will the kids think?”

“if you pay them they won’t snitch,” you smiled at him and he felt his heart melt. he loved looking at you, and if he continued he was sure he’d melt as a whole. but maybe he was fine with that.

you look around, debating whether or not you should take your chance now and write how you truly felt about him on his arm. you shrugged, confident that even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, your friendship wouldn’t falter. you quickly wrote i like you dylan, romantically -(y/n) on his arm and quickly thinking of an excuse.

“your arms are completely tattooed, you’re welcome, and as much as i would love to do your face next, mr. h actually has some work for me to do right about now.” you smiled at him before getting up to leave. he sighed at your fading figure and looked at your doodles, somehow completely missing the confession. he then called kaitlyn over, who rolled her eyes at him, coming over to sit next to him. when she sat down, she knew exactly what would happen.

“before you even say anything, is this about (y/n)?”

“no! ...maybe. okay, yeah, it is.” he admitted. kaitlyn groaned while he ranted on and on about how you’d never like him back.

kaitlyn, who’s not listening to any of it since she’s heard it all before, looks at his arm, and sees the confession.

“i don’t think you have to worry anymore.” she smirks.

“what are you talking about?”

“look at your arm, doofus.” she points at the confession note you wrote.

he looks at the spot where she’s pointing and his eyes widened.

“literally how did i miss that?” dylan whispered to himself.

“maybe because you’re an idiot,” she remarked, getting up and leaving.

dylan looked around and saw abi walking by.

“hey, wait, abi? have you seen (y/n)?”

“uh, yeah, actually. they’re hiding behind that tree over there,” she pointed. “when i asked why, they told me they did something that was possibly really stupid.” abi shrugged. dylan thanked her and she nodded in response, carrying on with what she was doing.

dylan practically ran to the tree to see you hiding behind it, head in your knees.

“(y/n)? it’s dylan.”

“hi...dylan.” you spoke, voice muffled. you were prepared for the worst. even though you had confidence in your friendship, getting rejected would be too embarrassing and would break your heart.

“i saw your confession. i, uh- well..i like you back.” he sat down next to you, rubbing your back. you lift your head upon hearing his words.

“really?”

“really.”

you smiled at him and rested your head on his shoulder. he responded to the action by resting his head on yours, while reaching for your hand.

“...does this mean you’ll kidnap me instead of the aliens?” he smiled, happy to be close to you.

“don’t give me any ideas,” you playfully warn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yay a happy ending!!

#zac has written #the quarry #the quarry x reader #dylan the quarry #dylan lenivy #dylan lenivy x reader #jacob custos #nick furcillo #kaitlyn ka #abigail blyg #clickclackin #supermassive games #x reader #self insert

526 notes · View notes

harringtonstilinski · 1 year

Text

Holidays With You - Mitch Rapp

Author: @stilinskiparker Characters: Mitch Rapp x Reader Word Count: 1,873 Warnings: fluff Tropes/AU’s: Best Friends to Lovers | Friends to Lovers | Fake Dating | Soulmate AU | Established Relationship | Break Up ; Back Together | Enemies to Lovers | Secret Dating | Assassin AU | if you can think of any more, let me know! Smut: no | yes; Requested: Yes,! I hope it meets your expectations, anon friend! A/N: Hi, friends! First Holiday fic of 2022! I’m in the Christmas/Holiday spirit! If you like this fic, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

“Okay. Never have I ever,” he said. “Been ice skating.”

I looked off to the side, lips in a thin line before I took a sip of my drink. The group went silent, as I was the only one to take a drink.

“You’ve never been ice skating?”

“How have you never been ice skating? You live in New York!”

Turning to my best friend, I narrowed my eyes at her. “I grew up in Florida. Where it’s hot about 99.9% of the time.”

“What about that other 0.1%?” Mitch asked.

“It’s actually cold,” I chuckle. “Floridians don’t really like the cold because we’re so used to the heat, but don’t quote me on that.” I looked at Mitch, our eyes locking. His was telling me that he was forming a plan.

I've had a thing for Mitch for the last few months. I mean, who wouldn’t?! His eyes are the perfect shade of brown; a whiskey, caramel color. His hair is black and little long, perfect for, eventually, wrapping my fingers around. The arms, the abs, the everything. This man is pure perfection. Do we work together? Yes. Same department? NO.

While he goes out into the field, I stay in the office and make sure they have all the intel they need, as well as all the supplies they may need. I’ve gone out with them about 3 times by request of Irene Kennedy, but other than that, I’ve been at a desk.

My phone ringing brings me out of my thoughts. As I get up to retrieve it, I see from the corner of my eye that Mitch stands as well. Once I reach my phone, I answer it with, “Yeah?”

“It’s that any way to speak to your grandmother?”

“Oh, sorry, Mamaw. Habit,” I said.

“Well, that’s quite alright. Listen, sweetheart, I was calling to remind you about the Christmas party. You’re still going to come, right?”

Shit. “I forgot about the party,” I said, apologetically. “But, I will try to make it. I just need to talk to my boss and see if she’ll let me have it off, which she might because I hardly ask for time off.”

My Mamaw chuckles. “Well, that’s okay. Just let me or your dad know if you’re going to be able to make it. I need to go make some cookies for the girls at church.”

I chuckle. “Alright, Mamaw. I’ll talk to you in a couple days.”

“Alright, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I disconnect the call, and hang my head, sighing.

“Everything okay?”

I turn around, looking into those whiskey eyes that have my heart without their owner knowing it. “Yeah. I just forgot about my family Christmas party. The very party I look forward to every single year. I’m sure if I ask Kennedy for it off, she’d give it to me. Though, it’d have to be a few days.” I look off beside him, my brows drawn in.

Mitch chuckles. “Well, you can ask her tomorrow.”

“I’ll do that,” I say. Sigh. “So, what was that look earlier?”

“What look?”

“That look you had on your face that said ‘I’m forming a plan.’”

“Well, you said you never went–”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna take me ice skating,” I interrupt.

He raised a brow, shaking his head quickly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You do know how clumsy I am, right?”

“She missed her chair the other day when she went to sit down,” Victor said.

“Fuck you,” I said, looking over Mitch’s shoulder. I looked back at the man in front of me, sighing. “Are you asking to come with me?”

He shrugged. “How else am I going to teach you?”

“You do realize there’s skating rinks in Central Park, right?”

He again shrugged, then sighed like this conversation was boring him, which in turn made me sigh.

“Fine,” I said. “You can come. There’s a skating rink about an hour from my dad’s, where I’ll be staying.”

~~~

Irene let me have two weeks off, which is surprising. I never ask for days off, so that’s probably why. Mitch came with me to Florida, and we had a nice time at my family’s Christmas party. The next day, which happened to be a Sunday, Mitch and I decided to go to the ice skating rink, which I must say, I wasn’t all that bad at… once I got the hang of it.

“Mitch!” I yelped, grabbing onto his arm while laughing. For the very first time since I’ve known him, I actually saw a smile spread across his face.

“You got it!” he chuckled.

I was laughing so hard at that point, I almost fell over. Mitch led us over to the edge of the rink, where I bent over the side, laughing. When I stood back up, I looked at Mitch, who still had that smile on his face. “I almost fell like five times!”

He chuckled, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. “Come on. I’ve got something else in mind.”

“You’re not gonna take me to a back alley and fu–”

“No!” he interrupted. “I gotta take you to dinner first.” He winked as we made it back to the carpet. He led us to the benches, where we took off our skates and put our regular shoes back on; his being his normal boots and mine being my favorite boots I wear every fall and winter that were starting to come apart.

After we both made it back to the car, Mitch started it up, looking at me almost expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“Where’s the nearest grocery store?” he asked back.

“Uhm,” I said, thinking. “It’s like three minutes away, why?”

“You’ll see. Bring it up on GPS.”

I took my phone out of my jacket pocket, bringing up the nearest grocery store, which happened to be an Aldi. Mitch drove us to the grocery store, where we both got out of the car. He took my hand as we both walked into the store, grabbing a basket on our way in.

Mitch walked us around the store, grabbing everything he wanted to put into the cart. Milk, eggs, flour, white sugar, brown sugar, butter, chocolate chips.

I smiled as he put a few more things in our cart. “Are we making chocolate chip cookies?”

“How’d you guess?” he asked.

“Well, considering I like to bake, and you put the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies in the basket, I just assumed.”

He chuckled, as we walked to the front of the store to check out. Once all of our items were rung up and we bagged them, we walked out of the store and back to the car. I brought up my dad’s house on the GPS, and off we went!

When we made it back to my dad’s, we got started on mixing the ingredients for the cookies before putting them in the oven.

“I’ll see you in about 10 minutes, my loves,” I said, blowing a kiss to the raw cookie dough.

Mitch chuckled as I stood back up straight. I gasped before walking around Mitch to the living room, where my dad and stepmom were sitting on the couch, watching a Christmas movie. I asked where the stuff for hot chocolate was. Once he told me, I booked it straight for the pantry to grab those ingredients, which was just cocoa powder and marshmallows.

“You making hot chocolate?” Mitch asked.

“You bet your ass I am!” I exclaimed.

“Make us some!” my stepmom said.

I chuckled, grabbing two kinds of milk from the fridge; regular whole milk and almond milk.

“Almond milk?” Mitch wondered.

I nodded my head. “Mhmm. For me. I’m lactose intolerant.”

He nodded once in understanding as I grabbed six mugs from the cabinet in case my stepsister and her boyfriend wanted some as well. Once the milk was all heated up enough, I put the necessary amount of cocoa powder into the mugs and mixed before adding the marshmallows.

Two of the mugs went to my dad and stepmom, and just as I predicted, my stepsister and her boyfriend came and took two of the other mugs, marshmallows and all!

I made Mitch’s the way he asked before I took the Reddi Whip from the fridge, putting some on mine before adding a couple of marshmallows and taking a sip. I smiled and sighed in contentment, happy with how I made the hot cocoa.

The timer on the oven started beeping, letting us know that the cookies were done. I went to grab the oven mit before I saw Mitch bending over, grabbing them out of the oven, hand covered with the oven mit I was looking for.

Seeing him being so domestic made my stomach flutter with butterflies. I sucked in a breath as he put the cookie sheet on the stove to start the cooling process. Seeing him being this way made the crush I had for him grow tenfold. Deciding I couldn’t wait to eat a cookie anymore, I grabbed a plate and put about six cookies on it before grabbing my mug and heading outside to sit by the pool.

Mitch followed me, sitting in the chair next to me. “So,” he started. “We’re sitting by a pool when it’s cold outside. Why?”

I shrugged. “Best way to see the stars, I guess.” I heard him hum, like he was agreeing with what I was saying. “Listen. I’m glad you came with me. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun or smiled as much as I have.”

“That’s not because of me,” he said.

I looked at him as he was looking down at his lap. “Yes, it is. Mitch, it’s because of you I’m having a good time, not because of my family. Well, they’re part of the reason, but you’re the main reason.”

He looked at me, seriousness in his eyes, then smiled a little. “Thanks. You’re the reason I’ve had so much fun, too.”

“Oh, my goodness,” I heard my stepsister’s voice. “Just kiss already!”

I looked back at Mitch after having looked around for my sister. Shrugging, I said, “Why not?”

He stood up before walking over to my chair, holding his hand out for me to take. “Better do as the lady says.”

“Wait!” she said. She disappeared for a moment before reappearing with her boyfriend, who stuck something on the top of the door frame. “Now you can kiss.”

Mitch and I walked to the screen door and looked up. “Mistletoe.” We looked at each other while chuckling before our smiles died down.

I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek at the same moment he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear before bringing my lips to meet his. It wasn’t a long kiss nor a short kiss, but long enough for me to feel those electric sparks.

We pulled apart for a moment before our foreheads met.

“This is something I’ve been missing and will look forward to,” I whispered.

“What’s that?” Mitch whispered.

I looked him in the eyes, hand still on his cheek as I smiled, “Holidays with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N 2: let me know what you thought!

Additional Note:

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak @good-vibes-and-glitter

Posted on November 27, 2022

#mitch rapp x reader #mitch x reader #mitch x reader insert #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan x reader #dylan x reader insert

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heartfullofleeches · 24 days

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Dylan [Fuckgirl Yan] and Femboy Darling hhhh- Girl gets a ton of gifts from past flings/those with crushes on her. She's told these people many times before she doesn't do dresses or makeup, but they always end up in her hands- What better to do with it than to dump it off on her cute boyfriend? Looks better on him than it ever would on her, plus she'd do anything to see that gorgeous face light up- She probably leads on the biggest suckers for more trinkets to spoil her man with-

"H... Hey, Dylan. Here's that dress you wanted. I've never seen you in one before, so I was kinda surprised - happy birthday...."

Dylan: Thanks- I'll hit you up next time I'm in town. C'ya later-

Dylan: Hey, baby. Got a surprise for you~

Femboy Darling: What?!? How'd you even know I wanted this, you even got the exact color I wanted! Have you been stalking me?~ Thank you so much, Dylan!

Dylan: Anything for you.

"You have a boyfriend?! Everyone was right about you! I wonder what he'll think when I tell him about over conversations"

Dylan: So?...Sea or park?

"Are you seriously trying to go on a date with me now?!"

Dylan: Easy... I'm not asking you on a date. I'm asking which you'd rather be buried in - because if you ever go near him.... It'll be the last thing you ever do.

#Dylan my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #female yandere #Femboy reader

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itsnocturna · 1 year

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Just a quick research here pls answer !

On a "x reader" fanfic... do you guys prefer the use of "you" or "y/n" ???

#imagines #reader insert #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #darth vader #dreamwastaken x reader #obi wan x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #darth vader x reader #jake x mc #jake duskwood #dylan o'brian x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars #dream smp #maze runner

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supercap2319 · 1 month

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Ben wasn't sure what to expect. All he was told was to meet his boyfriend, Y/N, at Harry and Gil's dorm room. He had been accustomed to the habits and traits of the Isle's kids, especially the guys.

He watched as the last of the sidekicks cleared out of the room. Something about being given a more important role in the community. Most of them were understanding about being given a bigger part in the heroic story of a prince, princess, or common street rat. Grumpy was the worst one.

He said goodbye to his council members before fixing his tailored suit and walking out of his office and towards the boys's wing.

Ben knocked on the door and watched as the door opened by itself. Either they forgot to close it all the way, or they didn't care. Probably the latter. Ben thought to himself as he entered the room.

It stunk. Like a locker room. If that locker room was covered in seaweed and sand and sailed across the seven seas. Ben knew that Isle kids were messy, but this was something else entirely. Not even Y/N was this dirty, but that's probably because Ben was his roommate, and he turned Y/N into a clean freak.

Ben tried not to let it affect him as he looked around the room. All the scattered clothes of pirates and dangerous weapons and jewelry. Ben would have to ask about where Harry and Gil got those from later, but first.

"Y/N? You here?"

"Well, well, well. Prince Beasty. What a nice surprise." Harry came out of the bathroom, naked as the day he was born. His fake hook was in his left hand. Gil came out of the room and smiled, naked as well. "Hey, Ben! Nice to see you, dude."

Ben opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Y/N walking into the room in a blue and gold robe (one of Ben's) and in underwear (also Ben's). "Hey, you. You made it." Y/n walked towards him and kissed his cheek as Harry rolled his eyes and gagged.

"Y/N, what's going on here?" Ben asked.

"Well, besides the smell, I was thinking that I should introduce you to an Isle's thing." Y/N grabbed Ben's hand and let him closer to Harry and Gil.

"What kind of Isle thing?" Ben asked nervously.

"On the Isle of the Lost, we have mates. Territory and property. You're my property and Gil's Harry's. The only way to touch someone else's property is to ask. And Harry wants you. In that way."

Ben let that sink in with wide eyes. "H-H-Harry wants to make love to me?"

"Make love?" Harry laughed. "We call it fucking Prince Beasty."

"You don't have to say yes, but if you do, you'll get to play with all of us. Isle's boys are versatile. You'll get to take as well as give." Y/N said.

The King of Auradon gulped. This was wrong. This was simply sinful, but he couldn’t deny all the sights and smells were starting to make his Beast crazy. Ben growled, literally. "I wanna play."

"Excellent." Harry grinned.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #descendants #descendants x reader #ben florian #Ben Florian x male reader #ben beast #Ben Beast x male reader #mitchell hope #Mitchell Hope x male reader #harry hook #dylan playfair #thomas doherty #gil descendants

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newtkive · 3 months

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pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 3 - infamous minecraft night

summary: the usual minecraft night ensues, and newt comes to a realization.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

note: the first meme is minho i swear. anyways first written chapter yaaaay !!

The only sounds coming from Newt’s apartment were the whirring of his pc and the shuffle of his friend situating himself on the living room couch. Newt was stationed in the corner of the small apartment, typing away at his computer, head down and floppy blond hair over his forehead.

“Dude, chill. You’re going to give yourself carpal tunnel from typing that fast.” Minho said from his spot on the sofa. His hands were behind his head, feet on the coffee table and shooting a judgmental look Newt’s way.

The older looked over his shoulder, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I told you to stop putting your nasty feet on my table.” He retorted.

Minho rolled his eyes, dramatically stomping his feet back on the ground. Another look was shot his way, curtesy of Newt before he turned back around, focusing again on his screen. “We getting on Minecraft or what, man?” Minho sighed, putting his laptop on his lap.

“Uh, yeah, go ahead and get on. I just finished my work and I’m gonna join the call.” Newt mumbled, taking hold of his mouse to click off of the library website he was editing, and switch to the Discord app. It took a second for him to find ‘The Glade’ group, noticing three active members in the voice chat to the left side of the main chat. He suddenly saw the chat moving as an alert popped up, showing that a familiar name was typing.

y/n: yooo newt get on!!

y/n: i see you online. get on call! we need a voice of reason

Newt’s dark eyes flew across the screen, a small smile gracing his lips as he read what you said. Behind him, Newt could hear Minho scoffing. The sound must have sobered the blond up, since his smile fell and he coughed to snap himself out of it.

“Dude, how come she asked you to join? I’m online too!” Minho grumbled like a spoiled kid.

Newt smirked, sending him a look again from over his shoulder. “Because she needs a voice of reason, or so she says. You’d only serve to make things worse in whatever is going on in that call.” The older snickered, and a harsh glare came from his friend. Newt swore he heard Minho mutter a few curses under his breath as he turned back around, but he let it go.

Clearing his throat, Newt clicked on the voice chat and prepared himself. An onslaught of voices immediately filled his ears, a mix of halfhearted arguing and giggles from Alby, Gally, and yourself. As usual, dark eyes instantly found the small square that housed the image of you and Newt couldn’t control the smile that lit up his face.

“Newt!” You beamed right back at him, waving through the screen.

“Y/n!” The blond reciprocated the wave and felt his cheeks heat up as you giggled a bit.

A few groans lit up the call belonging to Alby and Gally. The two had a similar set up going on; sitting in front of their fancy gaming computers while adorning a headset, a bit distracted as they played Minecraft.

“You could say hey to us too, Newt.” Alby sassed, with a broad grin and raised brows.

“Yeah, but you guys probably caused whatever problem is going on." Newt chuckled. This elicited a furious nod from you in the corner, and Alby immediately began wagging his finger in the camera with a series of 'no, no, no's.

"Sure, go see what Y/n did to my house." Gally remarked the bottom left corner of the screen and rolled his eyes.

"I only blew half of it up because you destroyed my shed!" You gasped at Gally. Newt's smile grew at their antics.

"You mean my shed that you've been squatting in!" Gally shouted back at her. There was a hint of an amused smile on his face despite the obvious irritation about the TNT blowing his hard work up. Newt figured it would have been a bigger deal if it was anyone else's property, but Gally was an absolute beast at Minecraft; he could fix any damage within mere minutes.

Before you could retort, the sound of another person joining the call cut you off. A vertical screen stretched to fit the layout, and a blurry image of a familiar brunette was shown.

"Heyyyy, guys!" Thomas sing-songed out, holding his phone up in the air like a stereotypical dad. He was clearly walking along the snow covered streets, wired headphones in as he adjusted his beanie. The crew let out a chorus of 'hey man's and 'hey Tommy's'.

"Where the hell are you?" Newt asked, laughter laced in his voice, head tilted to the side to decipher where his friend was going.

"Uhhh, I'm on my way home," Thomas started, looking around as snow began to fall a bit, almost seeming unsure of his own words, "I think, at least."

"You think?" Newt echoed, amused.

"You're like one of those kids who need a leash on their backpacks." You said, grinning at your best friend as he trudged along the almost barren stone street of New York.

Thomas shrugged, a little laugh bubbling out. "I guess. I kinda got lost, I thought this old lady was following me so I faked her out and went a weird direction. Now I'm in a fancy neighborhood." He explained.

Alby, Newt, yourself, and even Minho from behind Newt let out a loud laugh.

"Dumbass." Gally snickered, grinning for once on the call.

"Tommy, you're nuts." You mumbled, hand moving rapidly along with your mouse as you tried to fix your shed, eyes glancing back and forth between the screens.

"Who was that? Is Min there?" Alby questioned, squinting at Newt's image on the screen.

Newt scooted his rolling chair to the side to reveal Minho's slouched over form on the couch. The man's smile comically fell as he was revealed, almost like he had an upset image to keep up (he did). "Wow, you know my laugh anywhere. You're obsessed with me." It was Minho's turn to sass out, as usual.

Alby rolled his eyes and Tommy grinned at the sight of their friend. "Minho! Hey, buddy!" The latter waved enthusiastically as he trudged the quickly darkening streets. Minho simply flashed a middle finger, making him pout.

"Join the call, Min. You should get on Minecraft too." You piped up, eyes looking away from your phone camera and glued to your laptop.

"No, fuck you guys. I'm mad at you." Minho all but shouted, arms crossed and leaning back on the couch.

Newt scooted more into the frame again, shaking his head. "He's pissed still, as you can tell."

"You're the one who removed him." Alby said, clearly annoyed.

"But you guys are the ones who didn't add me back!" Minho shouted again, glaring at the screen from his spot.

"I added you back!" Alby corrected him.

"Oh, please." Minho didn't know how to reply, so he just scoffed at the man. He was right after all, and Min didn't like being wrong.

Newt shook his head, leaning back in his chair. He shrunk the screen a bit to pull up Minecraft, eager to see what kind of damage was done to everyone's homes.

They had build up a cute little town: dark oak houses, each unique to every person who built them, all leading up to a giant cherry blossom mansion that Gally resided in. The shed beside the mansion housed any stray horses found—each horse assigned to a different person—and your own little blue bed. You refused to live in your own home after everyone made fun of the dirt house you and Tommy built together. Unlike you, Tommy stood his ground and stayed inside of it. You chose to spite everyone who made fun of you and move into the public stables, inconveniencing them.

Newt crossed his arms and patiently waited for his game to load as he tuned back into the conversation. You had convinced Minho to play with all of you if you gave him your hard earned diamond—emphasis on the singularity of the use of diamond. You often had a hard time mining without dying, so you took pride in your jewel.

"Oh, c'mon. That just means you'll steal more of my shit." Newt said, pretending to sound exasperated.

At the sound of his British accent rolling through your speakers like honey, your eyes immediately darted back to the screen to see Newt's smirk. A blush emerged on your cheeks and you bashfully smiled. "No, I won't! I swear." You said, a bit embarrassed.

Newt didn't mind you borrowing his things, and he had an inkling that you knew that. "Sure, I bet that'll last for an hour." He chuckled.

Internally, Newt was giddy at your interaction like a school girl. Now he was internally embarrassed. At the perfect time, his game screen loaded and he began playing the game to distract himself.

"Guys, promise me you'll tell me if there's someone behind me." Thomas piped up while trekking through the streets. Everyone monotonously agreed, not fully paying attention.

"Guys, c'mon!" Thomas whined incessantly, sounding like a little kid. You giggled and assured him you'd keep an eye out, and he seemed to calm down at those words.

With that, the group gaming really started up. It was weird without Thomas being online and his little character not moving around, but his constant talking filled the void.

On the other side of the screen you were reeling at the sight of Newt. He was focused on the game, lip between his teeth, brows taut, and messy, thick, blond hair splayed over his forehead like a golden crown. Brown eyes constantly flickering around the screen but somehow finding their home on you in the end—or at least you hoped.

Newt was thinking similar things about you. Eyes catching your form every time you moved your hair to the other shoulder, or ran your hand through it. He tried not to be obvious and strayed away from glancing over at every movement, but it was hard. If he caught your gaze, he would waggle his brows a bit, and you would dissolve into that cute little smile that lit up his stomach in butterflies. Thankfully, no one noticed your interactions—or at least that's what both of you told yourselves.

By the time Thomas got to his own apartment, and those affected rebuilt their in-game homes, things were slowing down and tiredness overcame most of you. Even Minho's shit talk from behind Newt had almost came to a halt. The first one out was Gally, claiming he had work tomorrow. Next was you.

“G’night, you guys. I have a 9 am Zoom class tomorrow, I gotta be up early.” You grumbled. A hand came up to lazily rub at your eyes as you carried your phone to your room, and Newt resisted the urge to say something along the lines of 'goodnight sweetheart' (which he didn't know why that popped up in his brain).

The group of guys chorused a goodnight to you, all waving. Newt stared at your image, your sweet smile that would stick in his mind long after you hung up. The sound of you leaving echoed in his brain as he stared at the spot where you once were. That is, until Alby's video replaced where yours once was and he scowled.

"What's with the stink face?" Thomas gawked at his friend from where he laid on his bed, phone sat up next to him on the pillow. His friends sudden smile turning into a stoic expression startled him.

"His girlfriend left, that's what." Minho said, walking up behind Newt. Min placed his hands on Newt's shoulders, and the blond shot him a dirty look, shaking his hands off.

"Shut up. The fuck does that mean?" Newt grumbled. Everyone seemed to notice how bothered Newt sounded, which only made smirks grow wider. Everyone but Tommy, who was just about half asleep by now.

"Ahhh," Minho started and tapped Newt's bicep, "just as we all thought." Minho left it at that and stood up straighter, hands on his hips. Newt looked up at him entirely confused.

"Do you guys talk outside of the groupchat?" Alby asked.

"We talkin' about Y/n?" Thomas slurred out.

"Yes, dumbass." Minho leaned down so Thomas could see his annoyed face, but his eyes were closed.

"Uhhhh, not too much, no." Newt shrugged. "Why does it matter?"

Minho gave him an 'are you actually stupid?' type of look, arms crossing as he gazed down at his best friend. "'Why does it matta?'" He mocked his accent, "It matters cause it'll show her you like her!" Arms flew up in the air, as if the answer was obvious.

All Newt could manage to do was look to the side, tongue to his cheek as he ignored the blossoming blush thanks to the topic.

"Min is right, dude! You should talk to her more." Alby's words seemed more encouraging than Minho's. Maybe it was due to the fact that all Minho ever expressed was sarcasm and disdain, but Newt just didn't find him as earnest as Alby at the moment.

"They're right," Thomas piped up, lazy smile on his face. "She's super easy to talk to."

"What?" They all bellowed out in unison.

"You talk to her?" Newt was flabbergasted at this new revelation.

"Uh, duh. She's my best friend. So what?" Thomas scrunched up his brows, eyes cracking open.

Newt just scoffed and shook his head. He wasn't jealous, just.. at a loss for words. "Alright, on that note, goodnight." Newt punctuated his goodbye with a press to the 'end call' button.

The black screen faced both boys, and Newt quickly stood, beelining for his kitchen to make some tea.

"Dude, you call me dramatic." Minho grumbled. Newt just gave him the umpteenth pointed look of the night from his spot next to the sink. As soon as the blond turned around to put the kettle on, filling it up for two, Minho let his knowing smile show.

"You stayin' the night?" The older one called from the kitchen. He decided to ignore whatever that humiliating topic was prior.

Minho plopped down on the couch, head in the pillow, and fishing for the television remote. "You know it." He said. It wasn't odd for Minho to spend the night, as the couch was honestly dedicated to man at this point. Newt liked the company anyways.

The best friends fell into a rhythm of one finding a Netflix show and the other preparing two mugs of tea (Minho usually detested it, claiming it was too British for him, but he surprisingly learned to like it. He would never admit it, but he actually found himself making some tea when he was at home).

Newt had the previous short conversation replaying in his mind over and over as he zoned out while waiting for the water to boil. Did he really like Y/n like that? Yeah, she was gorgeous, and he always found himself looking for her approval and reactions, but he didn't want to be that guy who liked the only girl in the friend group. Although, he knew the situation wasn't really like that.

As Newt brought over the steaming hot mugs and sat on the opposite couch from his friend, waiting for whatever action movie was pulled up to play, he decided talking to Y/n more wasn't such a bad idea.

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fayeriee · 2 years

Text

Different

and so i did

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fandom: the quarry relationship: none? slight nick furcillo x reader if you want genre: angst(ish), then a bit of crack warning/s: violence, blood, nick being touchy and then rude, coarse language word count: 2.2k (whoops) notes: gender neutral reader. only one use of ‘Y/N’. no physical descriptors used (it is mentioned that you have hair, though). sorry bald friends ♡

more notes at the end (i explain some stuff that I didn’t want to spoil here) i hope you all like it and thank you to everyone who replied to my original post ♡

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The night had gone badly extremely fast. A sputtering minivan engine had caused you and your fellow camp counsellors to stay at Hackett’s Quarry for another night. At first, Chris Hackeett’s (your boss for the summer) panic over it had seemed like an overreaction - but after Nick and Abigail were attacked by “some kind of animal” and Jacob showed up briefly to say that he had run into some kind of hunter, you were beginning to understand.

Things took another turn when you stood outside with most of the others (Jacob had left again to try and find Emma), looking down at the pool you’d been using all summer, that now served as Kaylee Hackett’s final resting place - turning the clear water around her body red.

You gasp, and take a stuttering step backwards. Your shoulders knock into a firm chest, and before you can turn to see who it is, long arms are wrapped around your waist and pull you into a warm - hot - body.

A face lowers into you neck, hot breath hitting your skin in heavy pants.

“N-Nick?” Abi mutters, looking at you awkwardly. Your eyes widen. Nick? What is he doing? Didn’t he and Abi…

“Fuck off, Abigail,” his accented voice grumbles, close to your ear.

Your eyebrows furrow and you begin to try wiggling away from his grip.

“Nick, let go,” you demand sternly, hyper-aware of everyone’s eyes now locked on to the two of you.

“You smell so good,” Nick mutters, pressing his nose further into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His arms go from firmly holding your waist to curling around your stomach like vines, his chest pressing against your back.

“Nick, I’m serious! Get off!” you exclaim, fingers digging into his forearms as you attempt to pry him away. You could feel the fast beating of your heart in your throat. Nick’s behaviour is not just uncomfortable, it’s extremely out of character.

“Hey, man…” Ryan mutters from beside you, shotgun still in his hands as he looks at you worriedly. Nick’s arms tighten around you in response, and you swear you heard him growl.

“I want to taste you,” Nick hums, you can feel his lips moving against your skin.

Heat rushes through you, and you can’t tell if it’s from some kind of indignity or… something else.

“Woah,” Dylan mumbles, his eyebrows raised high.

Abi lets out a small, sad sound, and Kaitlyn places a comforting hand on her shoulder. You look at the two women desperately, your fingers finally getting between Nick’s arms and your body.

You don’t want to be too brash, Nick is injured - probably in shock - but then there’s a sharp and sudden pain just above your collarbone.

You let out a screech, mostly from surprise, as your skin gives way and is punctured.

Your body reacts instinctively, any friendly favour lost as you roughly rip Nick’s arms away.

Dylan would tell you much later that you looked like ‘a ninja’, but all you can feel in the moment is your body stepping and turning away from Nick before you lash out and push him.

You watch in horror and disgust as Nick falls backwards into the pool with Kaylee’s dead body.

It’s silent for a long, worrying moment before Nick finally surfaces, yelling and screaming like the water was actually acid.

But as pain throbs through your neck, you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad.

“Did that fucker bite you?!” Kaitlyn yells in surprise as she takes a step forward to comfort you - Ryan and Dylan awkwardly pulling Nick out of the pool.

“I-I think so, yeah,” you stutter, shaken by the whole thing. Your hand rises to the spot on your neck, and you immediately hiss as the stimulation causes the pain to blossom brighter.

You pull your hand back, surprised by the amount of blood coating your fingers.

“Are you sure? The marks aren’t… blunt,” Abi notes worriedly, assessing your wound alongside Kaitlyn. Before you can think properly about what she means, Dylan is piping up.

“Uh, Nick is really cold. Like, freezing.”

Ryan nods in agreement, but still regards Nick’s shivering body with caution.

“Let’s get inside the poolhouse. Nick can get dry and I’ll try and find something for you,” Kaitlyn instructs, looking at you as she finishes. You nod in agreement, and concede yourself to her care.

***

Nick was laying alone on the floor with a space heater while you and the others sit in a corner to discuss what had just happened (including finding Kaylee’s body and the lady with the eyepatch).

Your wound had gone from simply being painful to… Burning.

From your neck, it felt like you were being burnt from the inside out. And it had started to spread throughout your entire body, like the bite is the fuse and your body is the bomb.

Your senses feel focused. You can smell… A lot of iron. Blood. Yours. Nick’s. Dylan’s. Even Abi was bleeding slightly from a scrape on her arm caused by an outreaching tree branch.

You hear a call of your name by a gruff and trembling voice. You look over, Nick looking back at you pleadingly.

“C-could you come here? Please, I-I want to apologise,” he rasps. You hesitate, taking a quick glance at the others. Kaitlyn and Dylan shrug - not seeing the harm, Ryan stares at Nick intensely - clearly waiting for him to do something, and Abi looks very concerned - not wanting you to get hurt again.

You sigh as you get up and go to Nick hesitantly, eyeing his every movement. From the dark veins that cover his face, to the slight shudder of his chest as he breathes.

You kneel next to him, pushing the space heater away for your own comfort. He didn’t seem to be wet anymore - definitely didn’t smell wet - but even if he was, you already feel like you’re about to melt from the inside out, and the heater is not helping.

“I-I’m sorry… For before,” Nick mutters, looking up at you from his spot laying on the ground. You look away awkwardly.

“Uh… Yeah. Y-You were probably just in shock… right?” you chuckle nervously. You want him to nod and agree, because up until about fifteen minutes ago you had liked Nick. He was a sweet, funny guy that was always soft spoken and gentle with the kids. He’d even remembered that you disliked certain foods when he cooked for you and the camp.

You can hear Nick swallow.

“Y-yeah… C-can I ask you something?” his voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him clearly.

“Sure,” you shrug, wanting him to keep talking to distract you from the sizzling heat in your veins. It’s getting worse, and your joints are beginning to ache like you’re being stretched out, spread thin.

“Do you like me?”

You blink, surprised. Does he mean…? No, surely not. Literally everyone has been talking about how Nick and Abi like each other - and he’d chased after her during truth or dare.

You come to the conclusion that he was using ‘like’ as a general term.

“Sure! You’re nice, and thoughtful, and-” he cuts you off.

“That’s not- ugh… that’s such- such a copout answer,” he scoffs, and even in the low light you can see him roll his eyes.

Heat burns your throat. You’re angry. More than you can ever remember being.

“If that’s what you think,” you snap in annoyance, your arms still aching as you cross them against your chest. Nick’s eyebrows furrow.

“You’re not really very smart, are you?” his lips are beginning to curl, snarling with each word.

“Excuse me?!” your voice is gravelly, and it almost comes out like a bark.

Kaitlyn, Ryan, Dylan and Abi have gone quiet, looking over at the two of you.

“You’re so dumb, honestly. The most clueless idiot,” Nick sneers, dark eyes glaring up at you.

You make a move to stand up, and an insult dies on your tongue when Nick grabs your biceps roughly to stop you. His skin is as hot as yours - you’re sure that if you were in a cartoon you both would be steaming like a kettle.

You both stare at each other, wondering who will be the first to do something. It’s Nick. He tugs you roughly towards him, moving lithely to get his legs under you. He springs you away with a kick, and your senses explode when your back makes harsh contact with the wall.

Your vision is overcome by grey static, the room falling away as you writhe on the ground. All you can hear are your own screams of pain as it feels as if you’re being torn apart, limb from limb.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, intended to be comforting, but it just burns brighter against the inferno of your body, making you scream louder and jerk away from the touch.

Then, your mind goes completely blank.

“Ohoh~ you’re quite different, aren’t you?”

An old lady’s voice floats through your head. You can’t exactly think straight enough for words, but every thought is a question mark.

“Hm… Maybe you could be of use. If you kill to protect those friends of yours…”

She pauses with a small hum, like she’s thinking something over.

You’re hungry. You want to run.

“Yes, protect them from those wretched hunters. Murderers! That’s you want to do, isn’t it. We can definitely use this to our advantage…”

Her voice fades and everything comes back into focus.

Your body doesn’t hurt anymore, and while you’re still relatively warm, it doesn’t burn anymore.

A scream pierces your ears, and you turn to complain, only to see Abi being held up against the wall by… Something.

It stands on its hind legs, seven or eight feet tall, with elongated limbs that end in razor sharp claws. Its face is mostly teeth and tongue, which are snapping in Abi’s face as she cries and tries to push it away.

Anger fills you at seeing your friend in danger, and, with bravery not entirely your own, you leap forward. Instinct drives you, and before you really know which parts of your body are doing what, your jaw snaps down onto the thing’s arm. Using your leverage, you push against the ground to pull the creature’s arm away from Abi.

She falls to the ground when released, and quickly scrambles across the ground to regroup with Kaitlyn, Dylan and Ryan.

The thing turns its focus on you, trying to pull its arm free. A growl rumbles in your throat, and your teeth clench harder before you shake your head harshly, the muscle under your teeth ripping.

The taste of blood fills your mouth, and a very quiet voice tells you that the creature you’re attacking is Nick.

You let go, and the creature doesn’t look for a further fight, crashing through the window and running away with a howl.

You watch the window for a few more moments. Even though you hear the retreating footsteps, you need to make sure it doesn’t return.

“Is that a fucking dog?!” Dylan’s voice exclaims from behind you.

You turn around to look at your group of, fortunately, safe friends. But they’re all looking at you strangely.

“It’s way too big to be a dog,” Kaitlyn scoffs, but she doesn’t look away from you. Confusion fills you, and you glance over your shoulder to try and find said ‘dog’, but there’s nothing there.

Oh, there’s a tail.

Upon noticing it, it starts to move, shaking from side to side. It’s large, and very fluffy.

“Like a dire wolf!” Dylan chirps, sounding excited. You look away from the tail to watch him, and he meets your eyes with his own wide ones. He still smells like blood, but it's not as fresh as before, which is slightly reassuring.

“Like from Game of Thrones?” Abi asks, still looking nervous.

You go to take s tep forward, wanting to comfort her and reassure her that Monster-Nick is gone.

But as soon as you do, everyone edges backwards - looking scared.

“Guys?” you try to question, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. You go silent quickly, eyes wide.

“Aw,” Abi softens, holding her hand out towards your face. When you go to slap it away (insulted), however, you see your hand. That is… Not quite a hand anymore. A very large fucking paw is what you’re moving instead. What… the fuck?

Turning around, you realise the interesting tail from before is, in fact, yours.

Ah, fuck.

“Um, guys… Where did Y/N go?” Ryan asks, looking at a spot on the ground just behind you that was covered in blood and fur that looked to be the same colour as your hair.

Things are beginning to add up for the others just as they have for you.

You’d let out a little bark at the sound of your name, getting everyone’s attention.

“Are… you…?” Dylan is the first to entertain the thought, looking at you in amazement. Everyone lets out a sound between a laugh, a gasp, and a groan when you nod your head up and down.

“Then… the thing that attacked Abi… Was that Nick?” Kaitlyn asks, looking unsettled when you nod again.

“So… why are you a friendly, fluffy… ‘wolf’, while Nick and those… other ones are… not?” Ryan asks awkwardly. You try to shrug, and while it doesn’t feel entirely right, they seem to get the point.

You all stand there for a moment, looking at each other in disbelieving silence.

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

HEHEHHE thank you for reading!

A few things for clarification!

So, when Nick bites you, he has sharp teeth like Emma does just before she turns (if she’s alone in the storm shelter and infected). In this story, Nick’s turning was delayed by his dip into the water, which is why you both turn at the same time.

With the reader and Nick being really hot, that’s taken from when Max is turning, he says that he’s really hot and asks Laura if she’s hot.

We also know that it’s possible to become infected if someone who is infected bites you even before they turn, since Ryan still gets infected and heals when Laura bites him (before she turns) to save him.

The old lady voice that you hear is Eliza (the tarot card lady you see between chapters). She calls you different and the reason behind that is... whatever you want. Maybe you had fluffy!werewolf ancestors, idk. Maybe you’re the chosen one, I don’t care, don’t question it.

I didn’t want to specify how tall you are, so I couldn’t put in any comparisons (like, after you turn you’re taller than (character) because what if you’re already taller than them before turning? that wouldn’t make any sense). But basically I made you kind of hilariously large. You look like a normal wolf, your fur being the same colour as your (natural) hair (sorry, i wasn’t really envisioning a pink wolf), but you’re roughly the size of a polar bear (please google it those fuckers are huge)

OKAY ENOUGH EXPLANATIONS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT IT WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE I MIGHT EVEN DO A PART TWO IF ANYONE WANTS IT???? ♡♡

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