Writing & Fan-Fiction

[inkspirings]

he said i was his world. his entire existence. that the world stopped as i spoke, and for a moment, an infinite moment, it seemed as though the planets and the stars spun around us. that we, and our spoken and unspoken words, were the center of the universe. we were it, and the stars held their last, collapsing breaths just to hear me say, 'i love you.'

07.18.16 thoughts on falling in love

[inkspirings]

Sir Isaac: Of Courts & Crowns (Ch. 1)

Info: TMR & Merlin | Sir Isaac (Newt) | Word Count: 2,647 | Ch. 1

“It is now my pleasure to present my daughter, Princess Aelin!”

I gathered the layers of my skirts up in my fingers and slowly descended down the steps of the staircase leading into the Great Hall. I glided smoothly down the marble, no doubt thanks to the extensive practice from all of the previous week. Of course, if I were to have it my way, I’d be sliding down the staircase handrail, shoes flung off, with my hair flying every which way. But, that wasn’t the way of a princess. For a princess, it was small steps, cinched waists, and curls twisted back. It certainly wasn't the kind of life I'd choose, but life doesn't ask us our preference, it simply says “Be!” - and then you are. And I, I was a princess of Camelot.

At the foot of the steps awaited my escort, some Sir Thomas or another. I looped my arm in his, and walked painfully slowly to the head table of the Great Hall, where the Royal Family, my family, stood waiting. I glanced briefly over to the table’s right, catching Sir Minho’s eyes. He snickered lightly in my direction, and though he covered it respectfully, a glint of mischief and amusement resonated in my best friend’s eyes as I walked past him. For the rest of our walk my eyes glazed over, be it for disinterest in, or awe at the crowd before me. As I reached my place at the table, my escort pulled my chair back for me, and only once I seated myself did he finally find his place close to Sir Minho at the knights’ table.

My father’s voice boomed once more. “And lastly, please welcome my son, the crown prince, Prince Arthur!” Prince Arthur emerged from the foot of the marble staircase this time, accompanied by my father’s ward and our childhood friend, the lady Morgana. Arthur’s bright red cloak trailing behind him mingled with the maroon train of Morgana’s dress, flowing into a sea of red silk and cloth. I watched my brother ascend to his own grand chair - like mine, not quite a throne, either - next to Lady Morgana. He gave me a warm smile across our father before turning to face our guests, and I followed suit.

My father raised a glass and finished his announcements. “And now, it is my honor to wish everyone a happy five years of peace and prosperity in the kingdom of Camelot. May the festivities begin!” With that, the Great Hall burst into merry chatter, cheers, the clinking of glasses, and the passing around of food and wine. My father lowered himself next to me and we both began to eat in silence.

A few short minutes into our meal my father leaned into me and spoke, “Tell me, how are you enjoying the feast?”

I shrugged, then remembered how he hated that. I replied passively, “It's not disagreeable, Father.”

My father rolled the wine in his mouth with his tongue. He placed his goblet down steadily and looked at me seriously. “What's the matter with it?”

I hastily shook my head and patted his hand. “Nothing's the matter, Father. It's perfect. I just… I just, I just am going to miss this. I don't want to leave this palace.”

My father smiled sympathetically and sandwiched my fingers with his own large hand. “I understand, dearest. But you will love wherever it is you go, I promise. And you know you can always visit back here if you wish, though I doubt you'd have any desire to.”

I smile faintly at that, not reassured in the slightest by his words, but touched, and return to my food. But I could eat no more. I picked at it for a little while longer before catching Arthur's disapproving but worried glance, and then excused myself. I was growing tired of the watchful gaze of everyone on me, growing increasingly suffocating as the nights progressed, closer and closer until the ball, the ball that would decide my future.

I exited the Great Hall from the private exit only paces behind the head table and wandered the halls of the castle for a few moments until I found myself alone on a balcony overlooking the whole of the kingdom. Bright lights scattered for miles, lanterns were lit, garlands hung, fireworks crackled, and the very air seemed to whisper words of triumph and victory in one’s ears. I sighed deeply and leaned over the balcony railing, my gown’s ripples pressed against it. That was when I heard a voice behind me.

“My lady, are you alright?”

I turned around and saw it was one of the knights of Camelot, Sir Isaac. He and I were friendly. “I’m quite alright, Sir Isaac, thank you.” I smiled warmly and masked any irritation in my voice, but Isaac certainly had a way with seeing right through me. He took another step forward, slowly but confidently, as if unwilling to overstep his boundaries.

“My lady --” he began.

“Aelin,” I insisted.

“My lady,” he continued anyway. “You don’t look well. Whatever is the matter?” He looked at me imploringly, his honey-colored eyes wide in concern and curiosity. I examined his features -- his fierce gaze that he held in a frighteningly steady manner, his jaw sharply curved and unmoving, his eyebrows knitted together -- and marveled at the sincerity in his eyes even though I was sure I had done nothing to earn such tender affections.

I brushed him off with a careless wave of the hand, but I couldn’t lie to him. “I’m getting married.”

A pitiful, strangled noise. “Oh,” Isaac managed, his brow receding further into its corrugation, the tenderness in his eyes lost for not even a second, unbeknownst to me, for my head was hung low. “Congratulations, m’lady. This is happy news, isn’t it?” He paused, and watched for my reaction. I looked up at him sadly, and smiled only faintly, a deep, broken smile. “Isn’t it?” he uttered again, a whisper only, and this time he knew the answer.

“You won’t make me say that it is, will you, Isaac?”

“No, I dare say I won't, Aelin,” he breathed huskily, taking another step forward and looking onto the city.

I nodded numbly, and we stood there like that, for God knows how long: Isaac leaned over his stomach, wrists biting into the railing, and I, leaned back with my elbows propped up onto the railing. We didn't say anything, we just simply observed. He observed the kingdom below, and I the palace above, both silent pieces on a chessboard, waiting to be played.

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

Isaac was one of Arthur's Knights. One of the Knights of the Round Table, one of common birth. I met him, strictly speaking, in battle. He saved my brother’s life countless times, proving himself worthy of the title of Knight. The day we met was a fateful one, the day that would determine the outcome of the war.

“Come now, Aelin, we must hurry,” my tutor cooed, holding his hand out to me to follow.

I scrunched my face up in stubbornness. “Why? Arthur's out there, I want to go with him.”

My tutor peered over his dusty, round glasses at me, eyes wide at my words. “Absolutely not, my lady. I must take you to a safe room at once. Come now, we must hurry.” I reluctantly placed myself in his outstretched hand and followed him, running to keep up with his long strides, until we reached a hidden flight of stairs.

It was being guarded by a knight, whom my tutor released me to. The knight took my hand gently and led me up the stairs.

“Come along now, Miss. I'll take you to where there are other children, too.”

“I'm not a child,” I snapped, rather rudely. I resented the idea of being reduced to a pest, an inconvenience meant to be tossed away and be rid of as soon as possible, im order to allow everyone to focus on actually important things. But a pest I became, as he led me to one of the hidden rooms of the castle -- made for sieges and invasions -- in some dark, cobwebbed corner. The guard leaned down in his uniform, his sword hanging from his belt just nearly touching the ground. He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, and peered at me with soft, kind eyes. He reminded me a lot of Arthur in actions, though he must have been a year or two younger. “Just right here, now, my lady, through this door. I’ve been asked to keep you here until you’re safe. You’ll be just fine, my lady, alright?”

I bit my lip, contemplating whether to argue with him or not, but swallowed against my words and nodded, suddenly frightened for the first time that day. I didn’t want him to leave me.

The guard drew himself up to full height, opened the door with a long silver key, and led me inside. The room looked completely ordinary, irritating me slightly. The only noticeable qualities were that it was significantly shaded due to the lack of windows, and it held several beds, lined along the far wall. All empty. Though it was hard to see, and I could easily be missing someone, it seemed as if the room was deserted save for the guard and me. Gripped with a feeling of loneliness, I suddenly felt my desire to go back out rise once again. I spun on my heels and faced the guard again. “I don’t want to stay here! Take me back out to Arthur!” I demanded.

The guard frowned sadly, pausing to stand in the doorway to prevent me from escaping. “I’m sorry, Miss, I can’t do that. You’ll be safe here, I promise. Take care.” And he shut the door. I heard a click. Panic rose within me, and I rushed to the door, twisting the knob viciously, pounding on the wood.

“Let me out!” I screeched, banging my fists against the rattling door. I kept pounding, pounding, pounding. The sounds of my own frustrated sobs and angry knocking almost drowned out the quiet, gravelly voice that popped out from behind me.

“There's no use trying,” it said. “The door’s bolted from the outside. So don't waste your breath making a fuss.”

I swung around instantly, and squinted in the dim light to see a boy in a beige cotton shirt and loose brown pants -- who was lazily sitting on the ground, an arm propped up on one of his raised legs -- staring up at me. “I'm not making a fuss; I'm not supposed to be here. I should be out there, fighting alongside my brother,” I snapped, turning my nose up at him, and threw one last look of vanishing hopefulness at the door, before turning back to the boy suspiciously. “Anyway, who are you?”

“I'm no one,” he shrugged.

“Well that's not true, now is it, since you wouldn't have been brought here if you weren't someone.”

The boy shrugged again. “My brother brought me here, too; said it was the safest while all the older boys went off to fight.”

I turned to him sharply, my ears perking in interest. “Brother? Who’s your brother?”

The boy pointed with his finger at the door, his mouth curved slightly in an almost habitual-seeming frown. “I reckon that was him who brought you up here,” he said casually, as if obvious.

“That knight?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “He hardly acknowledged you,” I commented.

The boy’s frown deepened. “And he ought not to either, bringing me up here and locking me in like some useless child.” He raised his eyes to look at me, standing and staring down in confusion at what he was going on about. He rolled his eyes and explained. “We had a row. Had to drag me here by the ears, he did, or I weren't to come.” He huffed bitterly. “Good deal that did.”

“I'm sorry,” I said sincerely. I knew what that was like, just having gone through it myself. After a pause, I broke the silence by bursting, “Are you going to become a knight, too, then, like your brother?”

The honey-eyed boy peered at me curiously through his thin eyelashes, an unreadable expression on his face. “Are you going to become a queen, like your mother was?” he replied simply.

I blinked at him in surprise, and my eyes darkened imperceptibly as I held back annoyance at his mentioning of her. “Well, I don't have a choice now do I?”

He motioned with his outstretched hand that I answered my own question. “There you go,” he said. “I can’t imagine being anything else.”

I sighed wistfully. “I wish I wanted to be a queen, but I don’t. I don’t like being a princess, so I hardly doubt queen would be much better.”

“I suppose you’re used to getting your way, Princess,” the boy mocked, smirking in a slight but humorless way.

My eyes clouded and I pursed my lips angrily, shooting his smug face an offended glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“What, ‘Princess’?” the boy asked, raised eyebrows. He laughed. “Well that is your title, isn’t it? I just didn’t think it possible anyone could find something to complain about even as royalty.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms, walking over to a bed and plopping myself down on it, leaning against the headboard. The mattress was hard and the headboard uncomfortable compared to what I was accustomed to in my bedchambers. I bit my tongue back from uttering a word of complaint. “Well, that’s not fair,” I sniffed. “Everyone has something to complain about, no matter who they are. Who are you to judge me anyway?” I asked poisonously.

The boy displayed his annoying habit of shrugging again. “I already told you, I’m no one.”

I suddenly leaned forward and looked down across the room at the other boy. “What’s your name, anyhow?” I asked sharply.

“Isaac,” he replied. I was about to open my mouth to introduce myself but Isaac beat me to it. “Aelin, right? Everyone knows who you are, m’lady.” He pushed himself off the ground and flung himself lazily on the bed next to mine, propping his legs back up and throwing his arm over one knee like before. He faced the front of the room, so I was left to study his side profile. I clamped my mouth shut and felt my cheeks burn. I didn’t know why, but his lack of regard for who I was disconcerted me. I had never met anyone like him. His blunt manner and matter-of-fact honesty were refreshing. I liked it, no matter how exposed it made me feel.

“Don’t address me like that,” was all I managed in return. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Like what, my lady? What would you rather I call you?” Isaac’s eyes burned into my own.

“Aelin.”

“My lady,” he persisted stubbornly. I rolled my eyes, and ignored him, and without ever meaning to, this became our habit.

“Aelin? Aelin, have you been here the whole time?”

I squinted my eyes and saw Arthur approaching the balcony. I straightened up immediately. “Relax, brother dear, I’m right here.” Arthur stopped a few paces ahead, eyes wide in his puppy-like sympathy.

“Aelin, I’ve been looking for you - the entertainment’s about to begin.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, and if I were a child and still wore tulle dresses I might not ask why it is my presence must always be demanded for such things.”

Arthur grimaced with me, feeling the same way, but held out his arm nevertheless for me to take. “Come, Aelin. Father’s waiting.” I nodded numbly, looping my arm in his, but remembering Isaac, I turned - and saw nothing. Isaac was gone.

[inkspirings]

TMR + Merlin Crossover Fan-Fiction

So, you can assume I’m not dead. Though it might have been hard to tell from my month long absence. May was a busy month for me, what with finals, planning my sister’s wedding (which will go well into June and July), and school projects and things. But now it’s summer and I intend on writing again! 

A couple of things:

1) I am continuing The Hunt, but while I know exactly what is going to happen in  (at least, for now) the next two chapters, and have started writing, I simply cannot bring myself to writing anything worthy. I’m just not in the mood to write it. It was easy to write when I was in school and stressed out, but now my mood has shifted to something completely new (as you’ll read below) and so while I’m not stopping it, I want to do The Hunt the justice it deserves by writing it only when I’m cut out for it. I don't want to half-ass some junk piece of writing just because I want the story to unfold.

2) I’m starting a new fan-fiction/series! It’s mostly TMR, but I’m using Merlin references (Prince Arthur, Lady Morgana, Camelot, etc.) in order to set the stage. You don’t need to be a Merlin fan at all to read it, it’s just for the base setting so I don’t have to make one of my own, that I would usually just save for a completely original piece of writing. It’s a Newt x reader one, but as I’m typing it, I give the main character a name, because a lot of the general theme and dialogue just revolves a lot around names. This should be fun and exciting because it’s royalty and princesses and princes and knights and it’s got my TMR babies in it so what could be better? I hope it turns out decent! Let me know what you guys think, I’m posting the first part today.

3) For anyone who has requested from me, I’m so sorry it’s taking me forever! I have about 6+ requests waiting, and most of them are half if not almost fully written. I have a problem, called “I love starting things, and then can never finish them.” It’s not you, it’s me. I have an exam and a bridal shower this week, but next week my duties will lighten up a bit. All the requests should be published within two weeks (I hope)! Again, sorry for being a crappy request-taker.

[iheartnewt]

I never went to a drama school or anything. I just gave it my best shot, and everyone seemed to like it, so I carried on doing it.

Happy 26th Birthday, Thomas Brodie-Sangster! (May 16th, 1990)

[inkspirings]

Happy early birthday, TBS!! It’s not quite the 16th here yet, but I thought I’d start spreading the birthday wishes for one of my fluffiest, cutest, and favorite actors out there. 

[steveharrintgon]

Get out your  g u n s  battle’s  b e g u n , are you a saint or a sinner ?

[inkspirings]

Peter Pan Imagine: “No Promises”

Request: “Can I request a Peter Pan imagine? I'm small with big brown eyes, long brown hair and pale skin. I'm sweet caring and funny but sometimes I'm stubborn and sassy. I love adventures, make people laugh and make them feel important. I also hate when people keep bossing me. I get in trouble easily but I always know how to face them by my own. Thanks love!”

Word Count: 2,051 | I tried my best to incorporate every characteristic you gave me, but I dunno if it turned out alright. ): Hope you like it still, I’m SO sorry for making you wait forever babe, I know I’m awful ._.

He heard your tinkling laugh ringing like soft bells through the morning air, filling the camp with your endless happiness. Peter Pan drew himself up to full height as his eyes sought you out among the Lost Boys littered across the clearing. He drew a sharp intake of his breath as he saw you, fluttering in a forest green dress, your long brown hair tumbling and catching gold by the light of the fire. You were lost in laughter with another Lost Boy, who was staring at you with yearning puppy eyes, a look you often received from the boys your age. Peter chuckled at the sight, pushed himself off the log, and made his way over to you with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he whistled, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the boy you were talking to. You turn to him, surprised, and as if understanding this as his cue, the other boy left quietly, leaving you alone with Peter.

“Good morning, Peter,” you beamed cheerfully back at him.

Peter raised a surprised eyebrow. “Why in such a good mood this morning?” he asked, half curious, half wary that you were up to something. You always were, what with your love for adventure and resulting tendency to run into trouble.

You shrugged. “Dunno. I just feel like it’s going to be a good day,” you cheered, winking teasingly, not letting on to Pan that you had a new adventure planned for today. You linked arms with him, pulling him with you playfully towards the campfire, which illuminated the dimly lit forest. You plopped yourself down and tossed some berries into your mouth casually. Peter watched you with fond eyes, smiling to himself at the way you fluttered about.

He raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips together, preparing himself for whatever mischief you were concocting. “What are you up to, Lost Girl?” he inquired seriously.

You smiled at the loving nickname he gave you, only spoken when you were being particularly spritely. You knowingly laughed, before grabbing a handful of berries and throwing one playfully at him. Unimpressed, Peter caught it and tossed it into his mouth. You rolled your eyes at his showing off and turned away, bounding towards the adventure you had planned.

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

The Mermaid Lagoon was glinting crystal blue, tantalizing you with its seemingly innocent beauty. Up until today, you had always avoided it on command of Peter Pan -- the mermaids were extremely treacherous and dangerous creatures, and Pan always warned you that they would try to hurt you should you get too close. But you couldn’t believe that there was any creature out there that didn’t like you, and you were sure you could make friends with them if you tried. So that’s what you were going to do, whether Pan liked it or not.

You skipped over rocks jutting out of the wet sand, balancing on tiptoe with each step, making your way to the shore. As your feet splashed down into the water, you saw a faint ripple farther on in the waters. And then another. And another. Soon, the rocks beneath your feet were quivering and vibrating with the hum of the mermaids, bringing the lagoon to life. You wobbled perilously at the tip of a high slab of stone, porous and eroded because of the sea.

Suddenly, a mermaid tail shot up at you, coiling its harsh scales around your arm and yanking you down. You struggled against her grip, but were flung into the lagoon. Water seeped into your nose and you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to reach the surface. You were going to drown.

You heard the shrill shrieks of the demented mermaids, cackling wickedly at having caught the object of Peter’s affections. It should've been them. “Peter Pan shouldn't have chosen you!” one snarled. The voices filled your mind, but you couldn't move, breathe, or even see. You had only one choice… Peter! You screamed in your mind desperately. Your lungs were beginning to burn from feeling like they were going to explode, your arms and legs grew tired from kicking, you were going to die unless he heard you. Peter, you thought again, almost sobbing in defeat. Peter, Peter, Peter… Your thoughts whirled deliriously, and then everything was black.

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

You woke with a lurch. Your head throbbed and your nose twitched, and you felt trapped, unable to breathe… You coughed, and coughed, and the water left your body. You felt strong arms grasping yours, holding you upright. Hands brushed your long hair back to keep it out of your face. Your spurted out water until your lungs expanded and you felt empty. You threw yourself onto your feet, trying to remember what happened. You pushed aside the hands holding you up, and though your mind swam and eyes watered, you squinted and looked around you. There was the blue. And there were the mermaids, lazily stretched across the rocks, some smirking, some pouting, some hissing. Your mind snapped into place.

“We were only trying to drown her!” The smug mermaid cooed dismissively.

That was when you heard your savior’s voice. “Only! She could’ve died. I promise you, if you lay so much as a finger on Y/N, I will slit all of your throats!” Your eyes snapped to Peter Pan, who threatened the mermaids with resolution. Though relief flooded through you, knowing Peter heard your call to him, you still stared up at him in surprise, rather amazed by his words. You didn’t think he would go so far as to threaten the mermaids just because of this little episode…

“Peter,” you interrupted calmly, your voice hoarse.

If Pan heard you, he made no inclination that he did, or perhaps he didn’t hear you because your throat was too parched to emit much sound. His eyes flitted angrily between the mermaids, who were now all shrinking in fear and disappointment. “Do I make myself clear?” he hissed. “No one touches Y/N, understood?”

“Peter, stop,” you repeated. This time, you stepped forward, trying to do your best to carry your voice, and gripped his arm, pulling him behind you. Peter watched you with a bewildered look, as if he just realized you were standing there, as you stood between him and the mermaids. You stared at the mermaids with a hard look in your eyes, trying to muster as much dignity and courage as possible, though you couldn’t help but inwardly feel ashamed that they had bested you so easily.

“I just wanted to be friends,” you admitted sheepishly, but sweetly, to the mermaids. You looked around the island and shrugged. “I’m the only girl… I just wanted company. I understand if you don’t like me.” You drew in a deep breath and your warm brown eyes hardened. “But if you ever try to do that to me again, I won’t need Peter to defend myself. I’ll be ready next time.”

You glared at the mermaids, waiting for them to challenge you; but hearing you stand up for yourself intimidated the sea creatures, and they pushed their pride down. The mermaids swallowed, nodded frantically -- though one rolled her eyes in a bored, resentful manner -- before flicking their tails and leaping into the water, disappearing into its depths. You sighed a deep breath of relief, disappointed that your whole attempt at friendship and adventure took such a wrong turn. You turned to Pan, who was watching you with breathless fascination, though his furrowed eyebrows gave away his indignation.

“What?” you asked him sassily.

Peter cocked his eyebrows and folded his arms, his chin set in the way that told you he was unhappy. “What do you mean, ‘what’? How can you be so careless? Mermaids, really, Y/N! You should’ve known better than to come here.”

You rolled your eyes, being in no mood to argue. “I knew that you told me not to, but I had to see them for myself. How can I be expected to take care of myself if you never let me do anything on my own? Besides, I wasn’t coming out here to fight or anything… I really did want to make friends.” You cast your eyes downward and sighed sadly. Peter noticed, and softened immediately, unable to keep a temper around you.

“Y/N, when I tell you something, I do it for a reason. I give you free reigns on this island, on very few conditions. This lagoon being one of them,” he gestured fervently to the sea. “And I don’t want you, my Lost Girl, to ever have to survive on your own, not when I’m here.”

You felt your anger seep away when you heard Peter Pan’s soft words, but you kept fighting stubbornly, hating the idea of Peter playing the overprotective role. “You can’t always be there to save me, Peter, and I don’t want or need you to either. I can take care of myself, you know.”

Peter knitted his eyebrows together resentfully. “Excuse me, but I think it was I who pulled you out of those waters when you were drowning. You were all but dead, and I had to bring you back to life. Those five minutes I spent breathing into you, trying to bring you back, were the longest and most frightening of my life. There are people who care about you Y/N, so you shouldn’t try to do everything alone.”

Your caramel orbs widened and glanced up hesitantly, meeting Peter’s green ones. “Y-you had to breathe into me?”

Peter’s mouth twisted faintly in a small smile. “Yes.”

You felt your cheeks redden and your lips seemed to burn. You unconsciously touched them, but they stung just thinking that Peter’s were on yours only minutes earlier. It was to save your life, you chastised yourself quickly, angry that you were letting yourself get carried away.

Peter watched you carefully, as your flush rose against your pale skin and your fingers grazed your cherry lips. He took a step forward and pulled your fingers away, taking your hand into his and lacing his fingers through yours. You instinctively made to draw back, surprised and confused, but Peter’s firm grasp held onto you tight and eventually you relaxed. “Peter,” you began in a hushed whisper, your breath catching and heart pounding the closer Peter drew into you. “I-I meant to say thank you.”

Peter raised one hand to meet the side of your face, cupping it and grazing his thumb against the top of your cheeks. “I think bringing you back to life earned a little more than just gratitude in words…” His eyes flitted mischievously to your lips, but returned to your eyes as quickly as they fell. You didn’t miss the gesture, though, and bit your lip excitedly in understanding.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked coyly, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck, linking yourself to him. Even as you drew your bodies closer, you kept your mouth tantalizingly far from Peter, taunting him to beg for your lips on his.

Peter licked his lips, wild from the closeness of the two of you, and gave in easily. “Let’s start with a kiss, shall we?” he breathed huskily, nearing himself towards you. You leaned up to meet Peter and captured his mouth in yours, kissing him suddenly and forcefully, knocking the breath out of him. Peter quickly took control of the kiss, wrapping his arm around your small waist in order to hold you close, as the other continued to cup your face, leaning it back and up towards him. He flicked his tongue against your mouth, silently commanding your lips to part for him, and drew out kisses from you until you were breathless.

You pulled away, giggling, and whispered jokingly, “I never knew you cared.”

Peter drew away just far enough to look deeply into your eyes, his own bearing no mark of humor. “I’m serious, Y/N, when I say, don’t ever do that again. I can’t ever see you get hurt.”

You looked up at him shyly and buckled against the intensity of his piercing emerald gaze. “No promises,” you joked slightly, winking up at him before drawing him in for another kiss.

[newtemotions]

[inkspirings]

^ me this week because of finals and i’m dying because i get no time to write all the amazing requests i have waiting. please send help. 

[inkspirings]

Theo Raeken Imagine: “I Dare You”

Request: “17 and 6 pls”     “I dare you”

Warning: SMUT, angry sex, Theo being Theo | Word Count: 3,012 | You may or may not go to hell for reading this, #sorrynotsorry | Listen To: High and Low

You glanced upwards to the library window distractedly, noticing how dark it was getting out. You sighed and eyed your phone, which read 6:30 P.M. You guiltily swallowed as soon as you realized you had at least a dozen missed calls from your friends, who were all hanging out together tonight and heading out for a party. Parties really weren’t your scene, so you had decided to stay back and study, not realizing that you would be out this long.

Hurriedly closing your textbook and shoving your papers back into your bag, you turned abruptly out of your chair and smack -- hit someone. Your papers went flying everywhere, and you let out a slight scream of frustration before bending over to pick them up, while the person you ran into crouched down to help. You didn’t bother to look up at the stranger as you both silently picked up your papers. The other person’s hand reached for the last packet at the same time you did, and as soon as your hands brushed, you pulled away instinctively and looked up… and saw it was Theo.

Your stomach sunk like a brick and you hurriedly snapped forward to grasp all the papers out of Theo’s hand, which was extended graciously with that signature smirk of his. “I think you dropped this,” he joked lightly as he held out the last packet to you.

You gritted your teeth and, snatching the packet from his fingers, stood up to try and take control. “You’re not expecting a ‘thank you’, are you? Because you’re not going to get one,” you respond coldly.

Theo gave a side smile and shook his head. “Why do you hate me so much?” he asked, amusement still flickering like a spark in his eyes.

You set your papers down on the table next to you, aimlessly playing with the frayed edges in a bored manner. “‘Hate’ implies I’ve invested all my energies towards forming an opinion of you. I don’t hate you, I just don’t trust you.”

Theo laughed at that mockingly. “Get off your throne, princess. I never asked you to trust me, Y/N,” he barked.

You seethe at the way he dares to speak to you. “Oh yeah, you only asked Scott and his entire pack to accept you without a second thought,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at the absurdity.

“Why the hell do you even care?” Theo scoffed. “It’s not like you’re a part of their pack either, they don’t even want you.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, losing your cool, before letting out a threatening laugh that you knew would surely frighten the arrogant boy. “You seriously think I, a vampire, want to be a part of a wolf pack? You must be deranged.”

It was true. You were a vampire, and a solitary one at that, like most others. Vampires didn’t need or desire packs, not the way wolves and other supernatural creatures did. It was not in your nature to be a team player, and even though Scott asked you to be a part of his pack, you turned him down, telling him you work better on your own. But that didn’t mean you didn’t help him out whenever he needed it. His friends were your friends, too.

“Well, why not?” Theo lowered his voice to a raspy growl. “You can only gain strength in numbers.”

“We vampires,” you matched his voice with an equally frighteningly icy one of your own, “are lone creatures. We work faster and better than everyone around us, and that isolates us from others. I prefer being alone, actually.”

“In that case…” Theo takes a step forward towards you and continues, gazing intently into your eyes. “I ought to teach you a thing or two about being with others. See, we werewolves,” he took another step towards you, holding his arms out place on your waist, “we prefer being with others. We need others. We grow stronger from the closeness of another,” he hissed the ‘s’ in his word, bending forward slightly to bring his mouth to your ear and drawing your closer into him to illustrate his point.

You felt the heat radiating from his body: the touch of another living being was so foreign to you. You instinctively recoiled, and pushed a swift hand out against Theo’s chest, sending him staggering backwards. “Yeah,” you drawl lazily. “I’m not interested. My question is, why are you? What do you want with my friends?”

Theo regains his balance, a scowl now replacing his usual smirk. “Stop trying to be a hero, Y/N. We both know you’re not going to do anything about me, and even if you try, no one’s going to believe you, because you’re being paranoid.”

I cross my arms. “Oh, that’s what you think? You think that everyone’s just so in love with you they’re just going to accept you without a blink of an eye?”

Theo’s cocky smirk returned. “No, I think you’re in love with me, and you’ll get to the accepting bit eventually, because you just can’t bear to lose me.”

You let out a short, harsh laugh. “I - what? You’re insane, you know that, right? I will never accept you, and I will fight you with every last breath, even if that means warning Scott.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “I dare you. Call Scott right now. You’re not a part of his pack, Y/N, he won’t listen to you,” he taunted, striking that chord again.

You pulled your phone up and clicked on Scott’s name. “We’ll see about that,” you hissed. “If you’re right, you can do whatever the hell you want. That’s how sure I am that you’re wrong,” you said confidently. Theo watches smugly, leaning against the table behind him lazily, watching you listen to the phone ringing with amusement.

“Hello?” Your heart leapt at Scott’s voice, and you silently prayed he would listen to you.

“Hey Scott, is this a bad time?” You asked urgently.

“No, Y/N, it’s okay. Where have you been, we’ve been calling. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been at the library studying. Look, I ran into Theo, and…” you take a deep breath, and quickly flutter your eyelashes up at Theo, who was listening into the conversation from both ends with smug expectancy, before you finally burst, “You can’t trust him. He’s bad news, okay, Scott? He said things… You have to believe me,” you were close to pleading.

You heard Scott sigh over the phone. “Look, Y/N… Stiles has already been chatting my ear off with conspiracy theories. But we need to give him a chance, okay? Just because he’s suspicious doesn’t mean he’s evil.”

“But Scott --”

“Y/N, listen, you should come over as soon as you can, okay? But it’s kind of hard to hear you, Lydia’s music is way too loud. We can talk about this later.”

“Sco --” You yelled into the phone frustratedly. He hung up. You pull your phone away from your ear and scoff, running your tongue across your mouth in frustration. You slam your phone on the table, leaning against the edges of it in an almost aggressive frustration. You suddenly felt like you were suffocating, you were so angry with Scott for not listening to you, and stupid stupid Theo for fooling everyone and getting his way.

All the while, Theo watched your frustration with pleasure, and made his way towards you to stand behind you. He reached out and placed his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them back as if he to massage them. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t look so good. Do tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered in a low growl, mocking you with his poisonous tones.

You immediately straightened up, but kept your back to him, and pushed him away with an outstretched hand. Suddenly, you were in no mood to play games. “Get lost, Theo,” you mumbled, your hair falling forward and curtaining you like a shield.

Theo clucked his tongue. “Now, now, not so fast. I think we had a bet, that if you lost that dare, I could do whatever I wanted.”

You turned sharply to glare up at him; he towered over you, being almost pressed up against your back. “Now I hate you, Theo Raeken,” you scowled.

Theo smirked a little. “Oh come on, you know you love me, Princess. You know you secretly wanted to lose that bet… You don’t want to believe I’m evil, do you? You were the one who gave me permission to do anything, after all…” He gripped your shoulders again and spun you around to face him completely, pushing you against the table with so much force you let out a gasp. Theo’s eyes flashed darkly, pleased by your reaction.

“Fuck you,” you growled, your eyes darkening, the veins beginning to rush under your skin, fangs threatening to escape out of your mouth, ready to rip Theo’s flesh.

“As you wish, my princess,” Theo muttered confidently, running his hands down your arms and onto your waist. He tightened his grip around your hips and pulled your body up easily, as if you were as light as a feather, setting you down onto the table. He took another step forward, using one hand to hold you down by your shoulder, and used the other to spread your legs, opening them to him. He stood in between your legs, tantalizingly trailing his fingers with the lightest touch possible up your bare thighs and under your skirt, ever so slightly. “This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” He growled down to you.

He kept his gaze fixed on you, watching your eyes flutter, watching you lean back and arch your back, succumbing to his teasing. You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back any sigh or moan of pleasure, but Theo’s touch slowly grew far too close to your wet core for you to stave off. “Theo…” you managed to gasp breathily. “I will fucking kill you,” you fumed, instinctively grabbing his hand that was raking against your inner thigh. You twisted his wrist back, far enough to cause him to scream in pain, but not to break any bones. He fell to his knees with a thud, and gripped his wrist, howling in pain.

You hopped down from the table and smoothed down your skirt, leeringly staring down at him, grinning victoriously. “You’re lucky I didn’t break your arm in two, Raeken,” you spat viciously. You were about to step around and away from him when suddenly, he growled, his eyes glowing golden, and lunged forward, yanking your legs toward him. You lost your balance as the ground was swept from beneath you, causing you to land on your coccyx. You cringed in pain, curling up momentarily, gasping to emit a sound, but unable to even let out a breath.

Theo took advantage of your moment of weakness, pulling you closer toward him by your legs. He climbed over you and straddled your hips, leaning forward to push your arms up and pin your hands to the ground. You struggled to breathe, writhing underneath him, only able to glare up at him. “Don’t you ever dare to pull something like that again. Remember… you promised, sweetheart,” Theo whispered against your neck, his hot breath driving you wild. Suddenly, the closeness of his body was tormenting you, and you craved his touch, lifting your body up to his, your breaths ragged, hot, and pained. Theo listened to your mouthwatering gasps with absolute content, waiting for you to beg for him.

But you wouldn’t beg. You let out a vehemous hiss, fangs bared, and broke your hands from his grasp, yanked his shoulders down and flipped him over. Now he was pressed against the ground, and you sat right below his v-line. You bent down, dragging your fingers up his chest as you moved forward, until you reached neck. You raked your teeth down his neck, and placed a surprisingly soft kiss at the crook of his neck. You twirled your tongue on that sweet spot, before kissing it again and sucking on it, leaving your marks, if only temporarily, on him.

Theo’s deep growls vibrated in his throat, the sound driving you to mad pleasure, causing you to smirk against Theo’s sensitive skin. He groaned at the hot feeling, causing him to grip your face with both hands and turning you over, so you lay under him while he crouched on all fours and bent down to smash his mouth against yours. You gasp in surprise against the heated kiss, both of you placing all your anger, passionate, fire, and lust into it. You felt Theo’s hand trail down from the side of your chest to your stomach to your skirt. He ran his fingers across your heat, causing you to shift under him in want.

“Beg for it,” Theo muttered against your mouth, continuing to rub you through your underwear, never pressing hard enough to provide you the sensation you needed. You clenched your jaw stubbornly, but couldn’t hold back after Theo rumbled again, this time right into your ear, his mouth pressed against your skin, and his breath sending shivers up your spine. “Beg.”

You bit your lip and swallowed hard, before gasping, “Please, Theo, fuck…” Your breathy voice drove him over the edge, causing him to growl as he pushed aside your underwear and began to rub your clit, followed by, unexpectedly and without warning, pushing two fingers inside you. You groaned under his touch, but only pushed yourself further against him, a wave of pleasure passing over you as you felt him stretch you more and more. Theo smirked, pumping further and faster with every one of your moans, which fed his ego and drove him to becoming more and more animalistic with you.

“Good girl,” he cooed into your ear, running his tongue along the side and biting it playfully. “Now scream my name like the good little girl you are,” he whispered, quickening his pace. You closed your eyes and let out a whimpering moan, unable to form coherent words the more he curved his fingers and pressed against you. Theo’s eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his fingers coming to a halt. “Let’s try that again, shall we?” He said sweetly, making his way to your throat, biting into your sensitive skin, drawing blood.

You cringed at the sharp pain and the sudden loss of contact, and screamed, “Fuck, Theo!”, unable to fight back anymore. You were finally willing to submit yourself completely to his will, as you agreed to. Theo, satisfied, shoved his fingers back into you, harder this time, until your eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. He withdrew and brought his fingers up to you, stroking your jaw with his other hand, telling you to open your mouth for a taste without using any words. You sucked on his fingers gently, the feeling of your lips causing Theo to grow in his pants. He quickly pulled his shirt up over his head and barked, “Get up,” as he moved from on top of you to in front of you. He swiftly yanked your shirt off and spun you around, bending you over the desk.

You heard him unclasp his belt and unbutton his pants from behind you, and before you knew it you could feel him rubbing his length against your core, teasing you by pressing against your opening and stimulating your clit. You groaned in desire, and pressed yourself against him, grinding into him, desperate for his touch. Theo placed his hands firmly on your hips, holding you down. “Keep still, or I’ll make you,” he rumbled threateningly, his mouth grazing over your shoulder. He teased you from behind, smirking as you threw your head back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering with pent up frustration.

He felt drunk off of your moans, enjoying watching you until you subconsciously arched your back, thrusting yourself back into him. Theo’s eyes flashed gold before he roughly grabbed your throat, placing enough pressure to drown your moans into strangled gasps. You looked over at Theo, begging for forgiveness with your wide eyes, and he finally bent down to kiss you, releasing his hold on your throat slightly. You closed your eyes into the kiss, wishing it would last longer, until you felt a deep thrust stretch you, and you gasped against Theo’s mouth, squeezing your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure. “Oh, fuck…” you uttered shakily, your jaw slacking as Theo picked up the pace, continuing to shove himself deeper inside of you, causing you to shake.

You let out a staggered breath as soon as his hand that was on your hip fell towards your front, and began circling your clit. You began to tremble and whimper, your head falling back onto Theo again, your throat still being held against his body with his hand. Theo felt you tighten around him, and as he began to pound deeply into you, his speed and force increasing with every encouraging moan that escaped your lips, you felt yourself reach your peak. Your vision blurred and darkened, your screams caught in your throat, and your legs trembled, yet Theo continued to fuck you mercilessly until he released himself within you, causing you to finally give way under him and collapse against the table. “Theo…” you gasped shakily, in between rushed and heavy breaths.

Theo growled in approval, his own moans caught in his throat, the wolf-like sound turning you on again. “Fuck,” he struggled, gripping the edge of the table to recompose himself. You turned to face him, a smile twisting its way onto your lips, as you watched him catch his own breath, clearly an exhausted mess. His eyes flitted towards your smiling mouth, and he leaned forward to grip your chin and capture your lips into a forceful kiss. It only made you smile more, as you wrapped your arms around Theo’s neck and kissed him back.

[inkspirings]

Masterlist

Fan-Fiction

The Maze Runner

Newt: 2

     - The Hunt | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

     - “Make Me” (Request)

Teen Wolf

Stiles Stilinski: 1

     - “More Scared Than You Think” (Request) | P. 1 | P. 2

Theo Raeken: 1

     - “I Dare You” (Request)

Once Upon a Time

Peter Pan: 6

     - Not a Child Anymore | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 (Coming Soon)

     - “I Can’t Live Without You” (Request)

     - “Let’s Play” (Request)

     - “One Insult from War“ (Request)

     - "You’re Beautiful” (Request)

     - “No Promises” (Request)

Celebrities

Thomas Brodie Sangster: 1

     - “More Than Your Best Friend” (Request)

[inkspirings]

300+ Followers

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE 300!! My blog has only been up for a month yet I’ve gotten so much support from of all you. I love talking to all of you and hearing feedback. Your guys' love and support and just talking to you in general makes my days ten thousand times better, I love it!

As always, requests are OPEN, yet please bare with me if things slow down a bit this month, since exams are (sadly and terrifyingly) coming up. Writing keeps me motivated and calm and inspired though, so do request away! (:

Again, thanks for all the love. ❤️💘

[inkspirings]

The Hunt (Ch. 6)

Info: TMR & OUAT | Newt | Word Count: 5,050 | Ch. 6 Summary: At Glader Prep, a group of boys called the Lost Boys have all the girls of the school wrapped around their fingers. They keep a watchful eye over every student, until a new girl moves to town. Intrigued, the Lost Boys begin the hunt for her… Until they realize they might just be her prey instead.

[ Previous (Ch. 5) ]

Over the next week, Newt, predictably, avoided me like I was the plague. I didn’t have many friends around here: Lydia was so popular she had plenty of her own friends whom I hadn’t taken a particular liking too, Minho stuck by Newt’s side most of the time, so he was obviously not an option, and I had promised Lydia I would avoid Thomas if I could, as a gesture of our friendship. So, surprisingly, the only real friend I really had around here was Peter.

He definitely wouldn’t be my first choice, but after partnering up with one of Peter’s minions, Baelfire, the starry-eyed curly-haired brunette who sat next to me on Monday, on a history project, I realized they couldn’t be all that bad. I mean, Bae was a total sweetheart, and around him, at least, Peter was a much softer person.

So, there I was, walking home with Peter on Friday afternoon, neither of us in any rush to get home. He was talking animatedly about his plans for the weekend, and I watched with amusement his eyes light up and his faint smirks and his subtle bragging, now and then. He was a very confident boy, but I liked that about him. “Now my parents want to go to the beach, but I told them I’d rather spend a few hours in the woods than waste the whole day there. They don’t get it,” he says with a melodramatic eyeroll, “But I think their plan is absolute rubbish.”

I laugh and pretend to look affronted. “What!” I exclaimed. “How could you not like the beach? What would you rather do over that?”

Peter pondered in mock thought before saying, “Anything! I love the woods, and hiking. Plus, there’s no people, so it’s much better.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically. “You would rather spend some alone time in the woods over being surrounded by hot girls at the beach?”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, I really would.”

I shook my head, amazed. I guess people really could surprise you. Suddenly, Peter’s phone rang and he, seeing that it was Thomas, picked it up immediately. “Thomas,” he said.

I couldn’t hear what Thomas was saying, but Peter glanced in my direction and smirked, before saying, “Sure, we’ll be there,” and hung up. I looked at him questioningly, and he noticed, immediately saying, “Thomas and all the guys are getting together to hang out. Wanna come?”

I immediately nodded and said brightly, “Sure!”, happy to take an opportunity to hang out with friends. But within a split second I remembered Newt, and then I wasn’t so sure… I didn’t want to see him, especially if he didn’t want to see me, and things would be awkward. “Um, actually…” I added sheepishly, shifting around nervously. I didn’t know what to say.

Peter looked at me with a frown. “Oh no, don’t tell me you’re about to bail on me, now are you?” He asked with a groan.

I shook my head, but then winced, unsure of what to say. “Well, I mean, you know, with the whole Newt thing and all… it might be weird…”

Peter raised his eyebrow with the usual flair. “Don’t tell me you broke our little promise, now did you, Y/N? You said you’d be nice!”

“I was nice!” I yelled a little too loudly. I clamped my mouth shut, before speaking again, trying to keep my voice even. “I tried to be nice, but Newt kept on giving me mixed signals. He’s so confusing. And now we’re not speaking anymore.”

Peter sighed and scratched the side of his temple. “Alright, look, well come anyway. It’s a party! Watch things go back to normal after tonight. If he still continues to ignore you, well then, his loss,” Peter finished with a smirk and a casual shrug. I smile at that, looping my arm in his as we walked towards Thomas’s house.

———————————————

“Peeeeeeter Paaaaaaan!” A loud voice boomed as soon as we opened Thomas’s door. I was surprised to see the blond boy in the hood – whose name I learned was Felix – laughing and running forward to clap Peter on the back, ushering him in.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion, but it didn’t take me long to figure out he was tipsy. “Great,” I muttered, pushing past Felix and making my way through the house, seeing Thomas.

“Heyyy, Y/N, look who it is. Glad you could come,” Thomas cheered with a wink. I smiled weakly; even though I was in his house, I couldn’t say I was a big fan of that flirt. I turned to scan the crowd, and saw Baelfire drinking from a red cup quietly in a corner, talking to someone out of sight. I made my way towards him, until I realized he was talking to none other than Newt. I stopped in my tracks.

I made to wheel around and walk away, but Bae saw me. “Y/N!” He called out with a wave. “Hey, didn’t know you were coming!” He said cheerfully. I sighed and turned around, praying to God Newt would just be normal around me. What a silly thing to ask.

I flashed a brilliant smile. “Bae!” I greeted warmly. “I didn’t know I was either, I think I just got dragged along since I was with Peter when Thomas called him up.”

Newt scowled from the corner as soon as he heard that I was with Peter. His head pulled up to look in my direction, and though he looked like he wanted to rip my throat out, he said nothing, merely glaring angrily. I coughed and looked away from him, keeping my eyes firmly locked on Bae’s. Bae chuckled knowingly, noticing the thick tension between Newt and I.

He got up from his seat and handed me his drink. “Cheers,” he gave me a sympathetic smile and mouthed “Good luck with that”, pointing to Newt discreetly with a jerk of his thumb. I nodded and silently held the red cup, eyeing it with a faint desire to forget all about my conflicting feelings for Newt, and sipped from it begrudgingly. When I looked up, I heard everyone fighting loudly about what they wanted to do.

“Video games!” Minho cried.

Gally rolled his eyes and looked at Minho sassily. “Come on, we can all crush you easily, even Newt. Stick to your sports, man,” he barked.

“What about truth or dare?” A pretty blond-haired girl with sparkling eyes called out. I didn’t know who she was, but I figured she was probably someone’s girlfriend.

“How original, Sonya,” Newt said dryly with a scoff. My stomach did a flip.

But Thomas was nodding eagerly, and by his side the girl Harriet, another girl in my drama class, was just as thrilled. “Slim it, Newt. Who can say no to a game of truth or dare? Come on, let’s play. Let me grab a bottle.”

I furrowed my brows. “A bottle? Why do you need a bottle for in truth or dare?”

The blonde, Sonya, laughed lightly at that and looked knowingly at me. “You’re new. We play a little differently. It’s like spin the bottle, but you can only ask or dare the person the bottle lands on. Makes it more exciting.” I nodded and joined the circle once Thomas returned with a bottle. I knew everyone here fairly well, except for the two girls and Gally, but I was nervous to be playing with these people - most of them had been friends their whole lives. And, to make it worse, Newt sat right across from me, so I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of him.

“Me first,” a bold voice cut off my thoughts. Harriet, the one with caramel skin and pitch black hair, leaned forward and spun the bottle. It landed on Gally.

At first, the dares and truths started off small. Then it was Peter’s turn to spin, and he raised the stakes. His spin landed on Thomas. He smirked, always a sign he was up to no good, and asked, “Truth or dare?”

Thomas, taking another lazy swig from his plastic cup, shrugged and mumbled, “Dare.”

Peter gently took the cup from Thomas’s hand and instead handed him his phone. “You need to be composed for this. I dare you to call Lydia and tell her how you really feel about her.”

Thomas sputtered, mortified. “You dare me to what?” He asked loudly, his voice slightly thicker due to his drink.

Peter raised his eyebrows challengingly and smiled. “You heard me, now do it.”

Thomas pushed his hair back roughly and snatched the phone from Peter’s hands. “Shuck it,” he muttered to himself, opening to Lydia’s number and dialling her. Peter leaned over and pressed speakerphone, causing a glare from Thomas. My eyes flicked between Peter’s smug smile – why did he seem so pleased about this? What did Thomas feel for Lydia? – and Thomas’s distraught expression. He was muttering to himself and clenching his mouth, hoping she wouldn’t pick up.

She did. “Hello?” The unmistakable voice of Lydia rang through the room.

Thomas groaned silently and threw yet another dirty look at Peter before saying, “Hey, Lydia, is this a bad time?”

Lydia sighed heavily. “What do you want, Thomas?” She asked, clearly annoyed.

Thomas gulped and nervously drew in a breath before exploding, “I… I wanted to tell you that I like you. I really, really like you, and I always have. I’m sorry for the way I treated you, but none of that was real. I’m…” He swallowed guiltily and Peter egged him on with an expectant eyebrow raise. He motioned for him to get on with it. Thomas exhaled hurriedly, “I’m in love with you.”

Lydia was silent for a painful ten seconds. When she finally spoke, her voice was like a cold hard whip, “I swear to God, Thomas, if you ever talk to me again, I will destroy you.” She hung up, leaving Thomas paler than before.

“Well, now look who’s the most sober person in the room…” Gally cracked up jokingly.

Everyone turned to him, glaring. Peter, now bearing a respectfully solemn look on his face, handed Thomas back his drink. “Bottom’s up,” he said dryly. Thomas didn’t spare Peter a second glance this time, and instead turned to the black-haired girl next to him guiltily.

“Harriet, I-I’m s-sorry –” He tried reaching out to her, but she flung his hand away. She looked humiliated.

“Don’t bother, Thomas, I’m a fool for expecting any better,” her voice cracked, and she rose up from the circle and bounded towards one of the bedrooms. Thomas made to rise up after her, but Newt, who had been sitting next to Harriet, reached out to Thomas and held him back, firmly planting his hand on his shoulder.

“Leave it, man,” he ordered, a tone of sadness in his voice.

Sonya looked between Newt and Thomas disbelievingly and scoffed, getting up to follow her friend and comfort her. “I can’t believe you two,” she whispered shakingly, before turning away with a toss of her blonde braid.

I watched the scene uncomfortably, compensating by taking another gulp of my drink. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I could draw that Harriet and Thomas had some sort of relationship, and Sonya had expected Newt to encourage Thomas to follow her, not hold him back. It was clear where everyone’s loyalties lay. I mulled over this guiltily, thinking only of what could possibly be going through Lydia’s head right now. She probably thought Thomas was just playing her again, having no idea that he really did like her, in his own immature, limited way. My shoulders tensed angrily. What was it with these boys and being unable to just mean what they say and what they do? Why did they have to constantly play everyone around them?

Peter coughed awkwardly, obviously caring little for what just happened. “At least now that’s all over,” he drawled in a bored voice. “It’s your turn now, Thomas.” Thomas, fists clenched, reached over reluctantly to spin the bottle, silently hoping it would face Peter. It did.

“Ha,” he said quietly. “Karma’s a shuck-face, isn’t it? Truth or dare?”

Peter shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “Dare.”

“Alright, you little shank. I dare you to tell Y/N what you really said about her and the bet you made.” As soon as I heard my name, I jerked my head up to look at Thomas as he spoke. Beside him, I saw Newt’s face blanche and he nervously eyed Peter, who was avoiding my gaze. He stared at Thomas stonily. “Fine.” He still refused to look at me.

“Wait,” Thomas added. “I’ll give you two the kindness you didn’t give Lydia and me. Tell her in private, in another room, so the others don’t have to be around to see her reaction. No doubt it won’t be pretty,” he snickered.

Confused, I looked at Peter inquisitively. “Yeah, Peter, do tell,” I taunted, trying to sound unconcerned, even though I knew anything involving him couldn’t be good, no matter how close him and I had grown. Peter sighed and stood up, grasping my hand and dragging me with him to another room. Newt’s eyes followed us helplessly, though I couldn’t see, because I was so focused on setting my drink down and running after Peter, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. His grasp on my hand was hard and  painfully strong, and I whipped my hand back from his as soon as we were in the living room, the kitchen in between us and the others. He turned around to glare at me with dark, poisonous annoyance, and said only, “I knew you would be trouble the moment I saw you.”

“What are you talking about, Peter?” I demanded.

Peter continued to stare at me, appearing conflicted, deciding whether or not he should talk to me. He started, “You were never supposed to know, or be affected by this, if it weren’t for stupid Thomas…” He paused. “On the day Newt and I met you, both him and I couldn’t stop talking about you. So we made a bet, challenging each other to see who could win you over first. That’s all.”

I stared at him angrily, waiting for him to burst out laughing or admit he was joking. He didn’t. “That’s all?” I asked in a dangerously low voice, shaking with venom. “That’s all? Is that all you have to say for yourself, Peter? You literally made a bet making me a prize, making our entire friendships completely fake, and you’re saying ‘that’s all’?” I laughed and threw my hands up in the air. “But I guess that’s all I can expect from guys like you. Well, I suggest you call your bet off. The likelihood of either of you winning is about as good as the world collapsing tomorrow.”

I tossed the hair over my shoulder arrogantly and wheeled around, making my way back to the others. I considered what Peter told me. Surprising myself, I realized I really didn’t know how I felt; I hardly felt betrayed - Peter never hid the type of guy he was from me. But Newt, I really didn’t expect that from Newt. Was everything he said to me just a lie, then? Was he just messing with me? Is that why he told me to stay away? He did warn you, I thought to myself angrily.

As soon as I walked into the room, Newt’s eyes were the first I locked onto. He was already staring up at me, mouth parted as if preparing himself to explain. I shook my head slightly and gave him a bitter smile. He closed his mouth shut and his eyes seemed to grow even more desperate. I ignored him and sat back down, with Peter close at my heels. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” he said, clapping his hands together. He spun the bottle… and it landed on Newt. Newt looked warily at Peter, and with good reason. He worried Peter would try something on him like he did with Thomas. “Truth or dare?” The Brit asked cockily.

The blonde answered in his solemn, husky voice. “Dare.” Of course, I thought irritably.

“Go jump into Thomas’s pool, wearing nothing but your underwear, and swim in the water for a minute before coming back.”

“Seriously?” Newt asked, slightly annoyed, though a part of him sounded taken aback Peter didn’t give him something worse. It was getting dark out, and the pool was bound to be freezing in this weather. Peter nodded, and Newt huffed, before getting up and heading over to go into the backyard. He pulled the door open, and began to strip. He lifted his shirt up – earning whoops and hollers from Minho and Gally, an an amused clap from Bae, and a cheer from Felix. I caught a glance of only the bottom half of his pale back before I turned away, heat rising up my neck.

Suddenly, I couldn’t bare to look at Newt, especially since I couldn’t get my mind off of him already. I didn’t need to see him almost naked and make things worse for myself. “Excuse me,” I mumbled to no one really, and got up to go to the bathroom. I opened the first door I saw, and it turned out to just be the guest room. I ran into its bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing cold water against my face to cool myself down. I desperately wanted to be alone right now, but I feared the loneliness of my empty house, so I forced myself to stay out as much as possible. If it weren’t for the fact that I hated being alone, I would’ve left Thomas’s the second Peter told me about the dare.

Suddenly, I realized the wetness on my cheeks was not just from the running water but from my tears. I blinked, confused, and started shaking with sobs. I turned off the water and walked out of the bathroom, sinking to the floor at the foot of the bed. I drew my knees up and pressed my palms up to my eyes frustratedly, willing the tears to stop flowing. But they kept on coming, as stubborn as me, until I knew my eyes were puffy and red. I sniffed and wiped my tears away, leaning my head back to look into the light and clear my eyes up. Maybe a few minutes had passed, maybe half an hour, I didn’t know, but as soon as I heard the door open I ducked my head and wiped my eyes one more time, fully aware of how red they were still.

I didn’t see who it was until I heard that husky British accent. “Wha- Y/N, what’s the matter?” Newt’s voice was filled with concern, and I realized it was the most genuine sentence I had heard from him. I glanced up, seeing he was dripping wet and had on only his boxers, which were also soaked; I inwardly thanked that they were dark blue. I looked away again, but not before I caught a good look at his carved chest muscles and strong abs and arms. Though thin, he was definitely strong and well-built.

“Put some clothes on, Newt, for heaven’s sake,” I said hollowly, my voice scratchy from crying.

Newt obligingly made his way into the bathroom, and came out a minute later with a white towel wrapped around his waist. His blond hair, looking a shade of golden brown right now, was flying in every direction, a couple strands falling in his eyes. He ignored them, lowering himself down next to me. I refused to look at him, but I released my knees, letting my legs out in front of me, my feet falling a few inches short of Newt’s. “I can tell you’ve been crying, Y/N, please, tell me, what has upset you?”

I laughed humorlessly. It was a low, croaky sound. “As if you don’t already know,” I remarked.

Newt continued to bore holes in my direction, and still I didn’t look at him. “And I apologize for the part I played, but please, you have to tell me why you’re so upset, I don’t understand –”

“Tell me the truth,” I cut him off, finally turning to look at him. His body was still wet, and it made him look even more worked up and upset. “Just tell me what really happened, I want to hear it from you.”

“Y/N, love, what good will that do –”

“Tell me the truth!” I shouted at him, my face inches from his.

Newt’s head turned forward, away from me. He stared in front of him impassively for a moment before beginning to speak. “You want the truth? Fine,” he started in raspy frustration. “When Peter first met you, all he wanted to do was sleep with you, but I was starting to fall for you, so I didn’t want him to touch you. So him and I made a bet to see who would get to you first by the end of the month.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the bed tiredly. “So you’re trying to say, you made the bet out of good intentions, and Peter just did it for the wrong reasons?”

Newt looked at me pointedly. “I won’t sugarcoat it, Y/N, but you know I’m not lying.”

I leaned forward and glared at Newt. “See that’s the thing, Newt, I no longer trust you, and that’s the difference between you and Peter. I know one thing’s for sure, and it’s that Peter won’t lie to me. He doesn’t try to hide who he is. He knows who he is, and you can either take it or leave. You… you can try all you want to act like you’re just that innocent little Newt from years ago, but you’re not. You can’t even see that you’ve become this-this Lost Boy, this guy who just goes around spreading girl’s legs and breaking their hearts the morning after. You don’t even know who you are. At least Peter doesn’t try to hide it.”

“Oh, so you choose Peter, is that it? You think he’s better for you than I am? You think he actually cares about you? You think that his honesty is a virtue, do you, Y/N?” Newt flings himself from off the floor beside me and paces through the room angrily, his voice rising with every question he asks me. I shake with resentment at the injustice he does me.

“This isn’t a competition! Why are you worried about Peter, more than yourself? Why do you care so much what I think about him instead of just listening to what I’m saying?”

“Why?” Newt’s eyes shot daggers at me icily. “I care because I’m bloody head over heels for you, Y/N! I care about you! I don’t care about some shuckin’ competition between me and Peter, but I hate the idea of you picking him over me. I hate seeing you with him, I hate thinking of him walking you home and him becoming the person you talk to, instead of me. I-” Newt drew in a shaky breath and took another step forward closer to me, backing me against the wall by the bed. I stared up at him, having trouble focusing on his words as his bare chest heaved, rising and falling heavily against his deep breaths. “I want to be the man you want me to be, Y/N.”

I shuddered under the intensity of his gaze, the tension in the air between us thick, like a dense fog clouding upon us. I glanced towards his mouth, unable to contain myself, no longer able to hide how badly I wanted Newt, how desperately I longed to run my hands down his chest and along his arms and through his messy blond pile of hair. “You keep saying that,” I say in a low, husky voice. “Prove it. Prove to me you ca –”

With those words, the tension between us exploded into a burst of raw emotions, stripped of all games, bets, acting, masks – it was just me, and Newt. Newt rushed forward to grab my face with his wet hands and leaned down to press his lips against mine, firmly holding me in place against him. But I did not resist, I fell into the touch I had so long been waiting for, and I drew my hands up, running my fingers along Newt’s waist and up onto his abs, his ribs, and the curve of his chest. My fingers roamed his body as his tongue explored my mouth, struggling to dominate me.

Our lips moved against one another, as if dancing in sync, and yet the lingering fury of our argument passed into the kiss, as we both fought to dominate the kiss. Newt kept me pressed against the wall with all his strength, and allowed his hands to roam freely down my body, down my sides, around my waist, and onto my jeans. He took my hand within his and pinned it to my side by my head. I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped from my lips and into Newt’s and his wet body pressed against mine, leaving my chest and my clothes cold and damp, cooling my nerves that were on fire.

A part of me screamed inside, demanding to pull away and get myself as far as possible from this boy who could only mean trouble. But as my knees shook and my heart exploded, my mind slowed and became incapable of forming coherent words, Newt’s touch driving me to madness. So I sunk deeper in the kiss, pushing aside guilt and throwing caution to the wind.

Newt, Newt, Newt, the angel-faced blonde devilish boy. Newt was all I could think about. As we kissed passionately, and his hands gripped my long locks and pulled them, forcing my head back to meet his parted mouth, I felt an electricity pulsing through us, and my body felt as if it were on fire, suddenly overwhelmed with the pleasure Newt brought me.

I craved for our bodies to grow closer yet, as if being pressed to his very skin wasn’t enough, and I moaned longingly for him. This caused Newt to close his eyes in pleasure, the sounds escaping me turning him on, and he dipped his head and buried it in my neck, and he began to suck on the sensitive skin right perfectly placed between my throat and chest. My breath caught and I panted desperately, attempting to catch my breath from Newt’s non-stop assault, and I struggled to stand. Newt noticed.

Leaving a trail of soft kisses on my collarbone and stroking the skin gently, he pulled away and looked at me, his eyes full of lust and desire. He wanted more. I remembered the kind of man Newt was, and reminded myself I could not simply hand myself over, expecting him to treat me differently just because we felt something special towards each other.

I rubbed my swollen lips distractedly and hesitantly released my grip on Newt’s tangled, wet hair as he took a step back away from me. I bore into Newt’s eyes, watching his reaction, as he stepped away and ran a disbelieving hand through his hair. He looked at me with both passion and also questioning, as if silently asking me if that wet, hot kiss really did happen between us. “Holy shit, Y/N,” Newt mumbled in his gravelly, out of breath tones.

I nodded, all of a sudden feeling extremely tired. I leaned against the wall and lowered myself slightly, but held my hands out to keep me upright. “This doesn’t change anything between us, Newt,” I manage shakingly.

Newt knit his brows together and glowered at me when I said this, clearly not understanding me. “Doesn’t change anything? How can you even say that, Y/N? It changes everything. We can, we can be together, we don’t have to be like the others.”

My heart shattered as I heard him say these words. We can be together. Oh, how my heart leapt at the idea. But… I knew we couldn’t. I shook my head sadly, “No, Newt, no matter how hard we try, we are no different from Peter, or Thomas. People like us aren’t meant to be in that perfect, cookie-cutter relationship. And like you said, you can’t change. You don’t even know if you have it in yourself. Why would you question that now?”

Newt lunged forward, taking my hands into his and pulling me towards him. “Because I’m shuckin’ falling in love with you! I want you, and I’ll do anything to have you, Y/N, please,” Newt was begging me, pulling me into him urgently, as if we might never see each other again. My heart beat rapidly and I felt myself freeze, unable to admit to Newt that I felt the same for him, too. “I’m willing to do everything differently for you, why can’t you do that for me?”

I gazed up at Newt, feeling a stab of guilt seeing the pained look in his wet, puppy-like eyes. “I want to Newt, I want to, but what if I’m not good enough for you? What if we’re just not meant to be? What do we do then? I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered fervently, drawing myself back slightly from his tall, overheated body.

Newt’s eyes flashed with pain and darkness, and pulled away from me, releasing my hands from his. “You’ll never lose me,” Newt promised with a shaky breath. He took another step back, putting the distance between us that I made clear to him I wanted, even though I wanted nothing less. “I promise you, Y/N. This isn’t over. We’re not over. I won’t give up on us,” he whispered, his wide, determined eyes never left mine. He took another step back, and with that, he pulled the bedroom door open and slammed it behind him.

[inkspirings]

Newt Imagine: “Make Me”

Request: “Hey, can you do and imagine for nr.1 with reader x Newt, please.”      “Make me.”

Warning: Very slight smut | TMR | Word Count: 1,859 (Hope you like this, this was a pretty quick but fun write so I really hope you enjoy it too!)

The Glade felt like it was on fire. You shifted uncomfortably in your tank top, fanning yourself every few minutes in between your work. The sun was glaring angrily down today, bringing the Gladers into a slow, lazy lull by noon.

“Y/N!” You heard a hoarse voice call you from a distance. You already knew it was Newt, your closest and oldest friend in the Glade, so you didn’t bother to turn around. You were feeling much too tired.

“Y/N!” He called again, this time with a twinge of annoyance at your lack of response. You sighed heavily before turning and squinting unresponsively in his direction. He rolled his eyes, walking towards you steadily, before stopping right in front of you. “Y/N, what are you doing? It’s past noon, Fry needs the meat to start cooking. You’ve been workin’ on that shuckin’ animal for hours now.” He furrowed his brows in seriousness, though his ruffled sandy blond hair and soft brown eyes made it hard to take him seriously.

You sighed and looked at him carefully. “I’m on it, I’m on it… It’s just so shucking hot, Newt. I can barely focus.”

Newt eyed the sweat beading on the side of your face and the hair clinging to your forehead stubbornly. “Alright, love, finish what you’re working on and then go take a shower. That ought to cool you down.”

You huffed and began slicing up the last bits of meat, hurrying to get them to Frypan.

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

As soon as you stepped into the cold shower, you shuddered with relief, half shaking from the freezing sensation, and half relieved to finally feel clean again. You didn’t worry about being the only girl in the Glade, because you had, more than once, proved yourself capable of taking care of anyone who dared try anything with you. Sure it had landed you in the Slammer once or twice, but that was a small price to pay for being able to take a shower in peace. No one had ever bothered you when you were in there except…

“Y/N,” that same voice called out. You groaned. You had never been so annoyed to hear Newt in your entire time in the Glade.

“What now?” You yell angrily over your shower. “Can’t I just have one moment of peace today, Newt, at least in the shower?”

Newt paused to stand in front of the showers on the other side of the barrier, not facing your direction. “Fry said he asked you to slaughter two animals, but he’s short on meat for the bonfire tonight. Any idea why?”

You grumbled and turned off the shower, accepting you weren’t going to ever be able to properly finish it anytime soon. You grabbed the towel to your side and wrapped it around you before padding your way out to face Newt, glaring angrily. Newt awkwardly looked in your direction, trying not to glance below at your body, even though you two were usually comfortable with each other, being best friends.

“No, Newt, I have no idea why --” You stopped short as it hit you. You remembered that in your anticipation to take a shower you had forgotten the second chicken… “Shuck.” You muttered only, biting your lip.

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter, Y/N?”

You roughly pushed past him, colliding shoulders with his. “Nothing’s the matter, Newt,” you snapped. “Go away.”

“Y/N,” Newt warned slowly, lowering his voice slightly, though it became raspier than ever because he was so parched. The heat was clearly getting to him, too. “Y/N, come back here.”

You continued walking.

“Y/N, don’t you dare walk away from me!” Newt shouted at you, though you were already halfway to the Homesteads now.

You shrugged simply and waved sassily back. “Watch me, Newt!” You called back out to him.

As quick as a whip, Newt ran up to you, grabbing your arm and swinging you around to face him. “Y/N, I am your second in command, you will do as I say,” he ordered you roughly.

You made a face and pulled yourself out of his grasp. “Make me,” you challenged, sticking your tongue out at him, and before Newt could even react, you turned and started running in the opposite direction. You clung to your towel desperately, regretting not putting on clothes immediately. You swore to yourself, but refused to look back to see if Newt was gaining ground on you; he undoubtedly was: even with his limp, you were encumbered by the towel, forced to run slower. As his unmistakable footsteps began grow louder behind you, you flung yourself into your hut and shut the door, though you knew that couldn’t keep him out for long.

Newt pounded on the door in a split second. “Y/N! Don’t make me barge in there. I will drag you out of there myself if that’s what it takes to get you to finish your work.”

You smiled to yourself, suddenly overcome with a desire to embarrass Newt. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you called out warningly in a sing-song voice. “My towel fell off, and I’m trying to get dressed…”

Newt immediately withdrew from the door, but was resilient. “I’m not falling for that, Y/N! I’m coming in there in one minute, and you better be dressed.”

You pouted, creeping closer to the door to taunt Newt. “But that’s not nearly enough time, Newt,” you whined. “But you already know that, don’t you?” You smiled wickedly.

Though you couldn’t see Newt flush, you could hear him falter. “Y/N, d-don’t be ridiculous - I know what you’re trying to do. I don’t care. If you’re not dressed, it’s your own shuckin’ fault.”

You shrugged, slipping out of the towel and leisurely started putting on your clothes. “Alright, but don’t be surprised if you see me n --”

The door to the hut burst open, but you were wearing only your underwear and a large t-shirt, that was barely reaching a couple inches into your thighs. You smiled victoriously, pleased to see Newt’s red face, clearly more embarrassed now than in the showers. It didn’t help Newt and you had always felt attracted to each other, even started falling for each other as you grew closer in friendship, but neither of you acted upon it because Alby forbid it. Now, seeing Newt’s eyes reluctantly trailing over your half-exposed body, it made you want to forget there were any rules in place. 

Newt clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “Go ahead,” he said in a hardened tone, trying to mask his obvious reaction at seeing you half-naked. “Get dressed.”

You raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Seriously?”

Newt gazed at you stonily, and only gestured for you to proceed getting dressed. You scoffed. You threw your jeans at him and flopped down onto your bed, sticking your tongue out again at him. You had pushed your luck too far. Newt closed the distance between the two of you in a flash, and climbed over you on your bed, pinning you down against the sheets. He glared at you with darkened eyes. “Do you think that I’m joking, Y/N?”

You panted slightly underneath him, unable to help but think this was the first time Newt had ever gotten on your bed. You had been on his plenty of times, but he had never been on yours. This was different. “Not anymore,” you replied breathlessly, afraid of what he would do next.

Newt nodded. “Good that. Now be a good girl and do as I say,” he growled at you roughly.

You smiled mischievously up at him, fully aware that he was still hovering over you, his face just inches from yours. If you just leaned up… “And what if I don’t?” you asked teasingly.

“I’ll punish you,” Newt said tonelessly.

You lifted yourself up slightly, meeting Newt’s cheek with yours, your lips brushing against the side of his face as you moved to whisper playfully in his ear. “I’d like to see you try,” you threatened, your lips pressed against his skin hotly.

Newt jerked back surprisedly, before his eyes filled with a new look of… lust. The wild, crazed desire finally unleashed within him, Newt grabbed you by the shoulder roughly and pushed you down against the bed, smashing his lips against yours. He kept you pinned down as he delved deeper into the kiss, your lips opening and parting to meet his. He pressed his tongue against your mouth, pulling away before giving you two hot kisses with tongue, each time exploring deeper and deeper. You gasped in order to catch your breath, taken aback by the suddenness and rushed manner of Newt’s kisses. He didn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath before lowering himself down on you again, pressing his lips to yours with a deep hunger you didn’t know he had in him.

You flicked his tongue with your own, moaning at his every touch. The blonde, instantly turned on by the sounds your moans, cupped your cheek, pulling you even closer to him, and you trailed your fingers up to tangle them within his disheveled hair. You smiled at his eagerness, and as your mouth twisted in victory you pulled away teasingly. Newt tried to lean down to kiss you but you merely turned your face slyly, laughing. Newt groaned in frustration and looked at you inquisitively, panting heavily. You watched him as his eyes followed you as you scooted back to the top of the bed. “It's so easy to get you, Newt,” you giggled.

Newt raised his eyebrows in arrogant surprise. “Oh yeah? Sure about that, love?” He slowly crept forward and suddenly lunged to tackle you against the soft sheets, and though you laughed and tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp, Newt's strong arms forced you against his hard chest.

You gasped for breath in between pouts and cried, “That's no fair, Newt!” Newt smirked and flipped you over, releasing you playfully against the bed, running his hands up the side of your body until he reached your arms, which he moved up by your head and pinned your hands under his. He laced his long, rough fingers through yours and raked his teeth down the side of your neck, causing you to drop your head back against the sheets. You arched your back, surrendering yourself, as he lowered his wet kisses down your neck.

He paused, watching your eyelashes flutter and small, gasping breaths escape your lips. Seeing you crumble under his touch made him smirk, swelling his heart with pride that only he got to see you this way. “All’s fair in love and war, Y/N,” Newt whispered in your ear and pecked it with a small kiss after.

You smile and take his cheek into your hands, turning it to face his sweet caramel eyes towards you. “Well, if this is what a little war with you brings, I'm not complaining,” you winked and pulled Newt down to kiss him again.

[inkspirings]

The Hunt (Ch. 5)

Info: TMR & OUAT | Newt | Word Count: 2,481 | Ch. 5 Summary: At Glader Prep, a group of boys called the Lost Boys have all the girls of the school wrapped around their fingers. They keep a watchful eye over every student, until a new girl moves to town. Intrigued, the Lost Boys begin the hunt for her… Until they realize they might just be her prey instead.

[ Previous (Ch. 4) ]

Just after I knocked, Newt promptly opened the carved wooden door. “(Y/N)!” He smiled brightly. I sucked in a breath as I took in his messily fluffed hair, his crisp black shirt, and adorable brown eyes. He watched me too, as he stepped aside to let me in, eyes following the length of my dress and legs. I blushed slightly, saying “Thank you” and nothing else as he let me in. I mentally kicked myself. I hated appearing shy.

“You have a beautiful house,” I managed painfully, as I followed him through the marble hallway and up a spiral staircase towards his room.

“Thank you,” Newt replied equally politely. “It's been in my family for years. Hopefully it wasn't too hard to find your way here?”

“No, actually,” I said thoughtfully. “You only live ten minutes away from me, to my surprise.”

Newt opened his bedroom door and let me in first. I stepped in, unsurprised at how neat and clean everything was. All his belongings seemed to be in place, and there were no clothes scattered across the floor, or books littered around. Everything was, well, perfect. Newt broke my thoughts, “Well that's good! Guess it'll make seeing each other really easy, then, won't it?”

I turned in his direction sharply, surprised. Then I realized he was just talking about seeing each other for the play. I smiled sheepishly, hoping he didn't notice. “Oh yeah, yeah it does. Speaking of which, this script is killing me. I've looked it over a bit, and I'm awful at playing this character. She's nothing like me.”

Newt laughed and flung himself across his bed lazily. He patted on the space next to him, indicating I should join him. Forcing myself to relax and act naturally, since Newt did not seem remotely interested me despite what Peter told me, I joined him. We both pulled out our scripts, looking them over.

“Here love, acting’s not that hard. You simply have to let go of who you are, and think of taking on someone else's skin - their thoughts, their emotions, their insecurities, their life. It gets easy from there. You just have to find something that links you to them.” Newt spoke with great passion, his eyes lighting up brilliantly as he talked about acting.

I raised my eyebrows a little, surprised at his skill. “Well, you're obviously a lot better than me. I bet you love acting, huh?”

Newt shrugged, returning back to his normal stoic facial expression. “I did, yeah.”

“What happened?” I asked curiously.

He eyes glared in pain. “I guess as I grew up acting didn't seem so fun anymore.”

I watched Newt with furrowed brows, struggling to understand. Did this have anything to do with his parents’ divorce, and how he changed after? “I suppose people change. It just seems like you’d be great at acting, that’s all.”

Newt sighed and said only, “Once the mask you wear becomes a part of you, you change.” I nodded, I definitely understood that. Every day, facing the world with the face they wanted to see, or trying to show only the parts of you that you wanted them to see. I understood that well, it was so natural to me, what with hiding my problems at home from the people around me and now becoming the new girl who had to prove she was tough.

“I understand that,” I said softly. “Probably better than most,” I admitted.

Newt looked down at me curiously, a wicked amusement glimmering in his eyes. “Really? What mask do you wear, (Y/N)? Who are you really?”

I stared back with equal resolution, wagging my finger with a teasing smile. “There's no point to a mask if you reveal who you are underneath. Besides, I'm not sure there's even much there anyway. I'm not a mystery, as everyone might imagine.”

Newt smiled humorlessly, understanding my meaning all too well. “Oh, I think that you are. Come on,” he urged jokingly, his eyes brightening again. “I don't know a single thing about you or why you moved here or what your life was like before.”

“And I don't know a single thing about you,” I retorted back challengingly. “All I have is rumors and whispers to go on, and frankly, I'd rather hear things from you.”

Newt's eyes took on almost a fearful glare. “Tell me some of these ‘rumors’ you’ve heard about me.”

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. I didn't know what would be too sensitive to talk about. I decided to go with the one I believed couldn't be true. “That you took an interest to me,” I replied quickly, secretly hoping he wouldn't scorn the idea.

To my complete and utter surprise, Newt took on a poker face and tilted his head. “It’s not a rumor love, if it’s true.”

My mouth fell open slightly as I stared at Newt in shock, wondering what on earth would drive him to say that. Was Peter really telling the truth, then? I stammered, unsure of myself. “Um, I actually really didn't think it was true. I wouldn't have brought it up otherwise, you must think I'm --”

Newt laughed and leaned forward a bit towards me, placing two fingers on my jaw to raise my eyes to look up into his. I gulped. “Do you wish it weren't true?” He asked softly. He refused to look vulnerable.

I stumbled on my words. “No, I don't wish that, I mean, it's not like that, I just --”

Newt smiled, clearly amused watching me squirm. “So you hoped I would like you?”

I shifted my expression into a glare, trying to compose myself again. “Why on earth would I not want you to like me?” I challenged.

That made the blonde laugh. “Oh, I dunno, I thought you hated me, with the way you behave.”

I scoffed. “What do you mean, the way I behave? You’re the one who was so rude at the game.”

“And you as well,” Newt added calmly.

I groaned in frustration. “Okay, you know what, forget I brought it up,” I threw my hands up in defeat.

Newt frowned. “Well, that’s not fair, love. You know how I feel about you, but you still haven’t told me what you feel.”

I blinked and burst in astonishment, “How can I feel anything, especially when I just met you and you’re proving to be the most confusing person I’ve met!”

“Well,” Newt started slowly. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out then…” he glanced towards my mouth, a smiling creeping up to his mouth slightly. My stomach turned… what had I gotten myself into?

I looked at him skeptically. “Oh come on, there’s other ways to find out, such as just getting to know you --”

“Look how well that’s gone,” Newt replied, smirking.

“Or we can just practice our lines, which is what I came here for,” I gritted my teeth.

He made a face and leaned in closer to me, his eyes again dropping to my mouth. “We both knew we weren’t going to be doing much practicing.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling betrayed. “I hoped. I’m not one of your silly little conquests, Newt, or one of those girls you toy with and toss out when you’re done.”

Newt drew away and rolled his eyes. “Here you go again, with your judging. You rely far too heavily on the rumors you’ve heard.”

“Do you deny it?” I asked, biting my lip, hoping he would say no, hoping he would prove to me he’s not that kind of guy.

Newt’s eyes darkened, and he turned away. “What I’ve done, I’ve done.”

My heart cracked, my eyes falling in disappointment and hurt. I made my way to stand up, to leave, to… I didn’t even know.

The boy looked up to me with shining brown and eyes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t do differently.”

“At least you’re honest,” I replied, not wanting to hear more. “And I’m not going to ask you to change, Newt, because I don’t expect you too. ‘The mask you wear becomes a part of you’, right?” I smiled bitterly. “Bye, Newt,” I nearly whispered, my voice faltering, before I turned away and rushed out of his house, flushed, struggling not to look back.

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

Newt flung himself off his bed and rushed outside. He saw Y/N running down the stairs, skipping one at a time. “Y/N, wait!” He called out to her. But she didn’t turn. She continued until she was at the front door, pulled it open, and shut it behind her with a loud thud. The heavy sound echoed into the empty house, vibrating against the walls, and hitting Newt like a brick. He collapsed at the foot of the stairs, shaking, cursing himself for what he’d done. Why couldn’t he just change? Why did it have to be so hard?

He pressed his palm to his palm to his forehead, distressed, his head beginning to hurt from overwhelming emotions rushing at him, making his head feel like it's going to burst. He didn't know why, but it hurt him to see Y/N distressed, and winced at the idea of him being the cause of it. No one had ever called him out on his behavior as much as she did, and though it irritated him, if he was being honest with himself, he knew she was right. She had a right to be wary of him, to want to avoid him, to listen to what everyone else said about him.

But he hated that, he thought angrily, gritting his teeth. He wanted to trust her, so badly that it hurt, but every time he opened his mouth the wrong thing came out. He was having trouble defining the blurred line between what he felt and what he revealed. But he couldn't act around her, not anymore… Y/N made him feel exposed, like he had to be honest with her, because she could see right through him anyway. Pulling himself up with a heavy heart, he rushed down the stairs and got into his car. She couldn't be far, and his street was always empty at this time: he'd find her.

Revving his car viciously, Newt sharply turned out of his driveway and saw a solitary sleek black car waiting at a stoplight. He rushed to follow the car as soon as the light turned green, and trailed her car at a safe distance. She was right, her house wasn't far. Before he knew it, she was pulling up to a quaint little house with brick walls and a small driveway. As Y/N pulled her car up onto the driveway, Newt parked on the sidewalk and waited for her to come out of the car. Quicker than he thought, she was out of her car and walking towards him angrily. She already knew he had followed her.

“What are you doing here, Newt?” Her voice shook with resentment. She didn't even sound angry; he winced. Knowing he had caused her sadness made him feel much worse than her anger would.

Newt stepped out of his car and ran his hand through his hair nervously. “Look, Y/N, I'm sorry. Since I met you, I felt something towards you beyond what I've felt for anyone else. Hearing you say those things about me, about what I've done, it hurt me more because they were coming from you. It's hard for me to show that, to let people in. But I want to trust you more than anyone in the world, despite everything.”

Y/N stared at him with an unreadable expression, her arms crossed in front of her, waiting for him to finish. Once he did, she began speaking in a level voice. “Newt, I'm sorry I judged you. I know I do that, to everyone I know, and that makes it hard for me to trust people. But I have to be honest with you… I know you're more than what you just show. I've spent most of my life hiding what I feel, and though I wanted to be your friend, I had to be sure of your motives before I did so, to see if you really are as you seem, or if there's more.” She took a step forward and placed a hand on his arm. “I don't care about the things you've done, Newt. I just care about the way you treat me. I don't want to be your amusement, when I actually care about you.”

Newt stared at her with impossibly large and longing eyes. “I do care about you, Y/N. That's why I followed you here. But I just… I can’t be the person you want me to be.” His eyes darkened and he turned away, the side of his jaw clenching as he held back how much he hurt right now. “I will never be able to be that perfect, loving guy, Y/N, as much as I want to, I don’t have it in me.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and held the side of his face, turning it gently to face her. Newt’s eyes were filled with broken sadness. She shook her head, “I refuse to believe that Newt. I don’t want you to change for me. I like you for you. But you also don’t always have to keep things in, you know. You can start by just telling me things. I just want to know you, I-I don’t know why… I can’t help it. Please, just don’t shut me out.”

Newt’s eyes flashed with darkness as he glanced away slightly, before locking his gaze back on Y/N’s. He couldn’t be around her any longer, it hurt too much. He fought the urge to kiss her, seeing as her face was so close to his and she tugged at his arm with such a loving touch. He wanted to take her face into his hands and tilt her head back to capture her mouth in his… but he didn’t. He turned back to look at her, and with stony resolve and dark eyes, he said only, “You should stay away from me, Y/N. I can never tell you all the things I’ve done, you’d hate me.”

Y/N shook her head stubbornly. “You don’t know that. I promise, I won’t judge you this time. Tell me, just tell me.”

Newt groaned in frustration, wishing he could shake Y/N to see sense. “God damn it, Y/N, why do you have to be so stubborn? Just stay the hell away from me, otherwise the only person who’ll get hurt will be you.” Newt turned around brusquely, getting inside his car. He drove off without another word, leaving Y/N in the middle of the road, confused and alone.

[ Next (Ch. 6) ]

[thomas-why]

[inkspirings]

can we take a moment to appreciate <3

[inkspirings]

The Hunt (Ch. 4)

Info: TMR & OUAT | Newt | Word Count: 3,223 | Ch. 4 Summary: At Glader Prep, a group of boys called the Lost Boys have all the girls of the school wrapped around their fingers. They keep a watchful eye over every student, until a new girl moves to town. Intrigued, the Lost Boys begin the hunt for her… Until they realize they might just be her prey instead.

[ Previous (Ch. 3) ]

Monday morning. You can do this. It’d only take sharply winged eyeliner and one of my best outfits to get me through the day, right? By the time I sat down in my first class, I had already realized how wrong of me it was to assume so. I entered history class with Peter and his friends close at my heel, and as soon as I sat down, they surrounded me. Peter sat behind me, the mysterious blond boy in the hood on my left, and another wide-eyed, curly-haired brunette boy on my right. Coincidental? Probably not. I inwardly groaned, realizing Peter and I had not gotten off on the right foot at the game, and Newt had probably already told him about our argument. The last thing I needed was to be the object of Peter’s wrath. While I wasn’t worried for myself, the idea of being surrounded by him and his friends annoyed me to no end. Switching schools had been no accident – I moved because I needed to restart my life in a new environment with new people; my old life had grown suffocating. The last thing I needed was to delve into this new world of drama. Yet, drama followed me regardless.

“Morning, (Y/N),” chirped Peter with a dangerous sense of happiness.

“Hello Peter,” I called back without turning around, waving my hand by my head at him. I didn’t expect him to lunge forward speedily and take my hand into his. I turned around sharply, surprised by this, but Peter’s forest green eyes were fixated on mine with determination.

He held onto my hand with a surprisingly soft touch. His thumb grazed my knuckles teasingly and my breath hitched. He smiled slightly and spoke finally in a low voice only for my ears, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved at the game last night. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His grip on my hand loosened, but did not withdraw. He watched me intently, waiting for my reaction.

Pulling myself out of my astonished stupor, I drew myself to full height and patted his hand amiably. “I don’t scare easily,” I replied simply, before drawing my hands away and turning back around.

Peter leaned forward, bringing his mouth an inch from my ear, brushing it faintly against my curls. “I find it hard not to take that as a challenge,” he whispered, his raspy voice vibrating against my ear, sending chills up my neck.

I turned my face slightly towards his, yet he was so close to me that my mouth was mere inches away from his when I hardened my voice, “It’s not.” I turned to look at him in the eyes. “You could just make a human attempt at friendship, as is normally done.”

Peter groaned and then grinned wickedly, “But normal is soo boring, love. Why don’t instead,” a mischievous glint flashed in his eyes, “we play a game?”

I raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

Peter nodded. “A game. I am willing to be friendly as long as you promise to keep a secret.”

I crossed my arms skeptically. “And what’s the secret?”

Peter leaned in closer. “You’ve gotta come closer, love, so no one overhears.” I roll my eyes and stay put, refusing to play along. He compensated by bringing his cheek next to mine, the hair above his ear tickling me as it danced along my temple. “A friend of mine rather fancies you, but is just too shy to admit it. Promise me you’ll be kind to him, no matter what, so as not to hurt his feelings.”

I drew back suddenly, expecting this to be a joke. Why did I even bother listening to him? I couldn’t trust anything that came out of his mouth. Yet, my heart couldn’t help but skip a beat instinctively, in hope… “Who is it?” I burst out breathlessly.

Peter smirked. “I think you already know. Who else? Newt.”

My throat tightened, and my stomach turned. “I highly doubt that,” I replied emotionlessly.

Peter wagged a finger at me. “Uh uh. I told you this in confidence, why would I lie? I’m many things,” he smiled smugly, “but I’m not a liar. Now if you can keep this secret, and not judge him so harshly, I can keep you out of the net of the rest of the Lost Boys, namely myself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever keeps me you out of my hair.” I was beginning to turn away before I added in a whisper, “I still don’t believe you, but I’m okay with keeping a fake secret, whoever it benefits.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder, and though I tried to focus on the lecture ahead of me, I couldn’t help but roll Peter’s words over in my mind. Promise me you’ll be kind to him… Newt. I didn’t trust Peter, and this could turn out to be one big practical joke on me. Yet, I found myself willing myself for it to be true, even though I hadn’t forgiven either Newt or Peter for their erratic and rude behavior. Lydia was right. I should’ve just avoided them from the start. What have I gotten myself into?

———————————————

“If you see her, just apologize,” Minho insisted in an worn out tone. Newt had been mulling over his fight with (Y/N) all morning, and Minho feared he would never hear the end of it.

Newt’s head jerked irritably. “Why should I? You know that she started it first, with her judgy comments and looks.” Newt slammed his locker with excessive force and glared at Minho. “You know, who does she think she is anyway?” he burst out suddenly.

Minho gaped at the usually fairly pleasant British boy in disbelief. “Ooookay, don’t apologize then. But you should probably avoid her altogether.”

Newt frowned, as they approached their drama classroom. “Can’t. We have to act together, remember? I swear if she actually tries to practice today…”

Minho shook his head earnestly, as he struggled to convince Newt to change his mind about (Y/N). “Don’t blow off the play, man. Take this as a chance to be nice to her and make her feel welcome again.”

Newt smirked darkly, a better plan coming to mind. “Actually, I’ve got something else in mind. I’m not losing that bet to Peter, but there’s no way in bloody hell I’m going to change myself just for some girl who doesn’t like me as I am.”

Minho and Newt both sat down in their seats next to each other, but Minho leaned over and whispered fervently. “Just don’t be a shuck-face to her, okay, Newt? She actually seems like a really nice girl.”

Newt grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he remarked wickedly, aware Minho understood his true meaning. His smile was cut off short as soon as (Y/N) walked into the classroom. Today her green top was bringing out the color of her eyes, which looked a deeper shade of green than ever today. Her hair was lazily curling and flowing around her, framing her delicate body. She looked meaner and yet more striking than ever. Newt suddenly worried that she would still be upset with him, and wouldn’t speak to him at all. For some reason, he hated the idea of that.

But when she sat down, she picked the seat behind Newt again, even though there were plenty of other open seats left. Maybe it was her way of trying to make friends again, or maybe the opposite, to show she wouldn’t back down? Newt shook his head, trying to make sense of his cluttered thoughts. He was absentmindedly shaking himself free of them when he heard his name. He wheeled around in his seat slowly. (Y/N) looked up at him when he turned to her, but he saw that her eyes were softer than before. Don’t think she’s mad anymore, he thought cheerfully, despite himself.

“(Y/N),” Newt uttered the name in a low, husky voice, unable to keep himself from softening towards you.

“Yes?” (Y/N) asked lightly.

Newt blinked at her for a second. “You called my name first.”

(Y/N) looked at him dubiously. “No, I, uh, didn’t.” Shit. Did I just imagine her calling my name? Newt thought worriedly. A confused look covered his face. (Y/N) noticed, so she desperately changed the subject, laughing inwardly at the thought that perhaps Newt was just trying to find a way to talk to her. “But, um, are we still practicing our lines today?”

Newt shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Not unless you’ve found better company,” he said quietly.

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with hurt while Newt wasn’t looking. “Erm, no, but if you don’t want to –”

Newt cut her off by smiling charmingly, drawing himself to full height. “Why wouldn’t I want to seize an opportunity to spend time with the lovely (Y/N)?” he asked rhetorically, though (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice a hint of sardonicism in his tone.

(Y/N) let out a disbelieving puff of air, looking at the blond boy testily. “You weren’t being so affectionate last night.”

Newt raised his eyebrows. “Actually love,” he corrected. “I believe you were the one who started it,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

(Y/N) leaned forward, trying to lower her voice so no one would hear. “Only because you give me a reason to question you, over and over again.”

Newt glared. “You don’t even know me.” He forced himself to soften his expression again, though. He had to keep reminding himself of his bet with Peter… if (Y/N) hated him, it would be like handing her straight over to Peter. He couldn’t have that. “Perhaps you should spend more time with me to actually get to know me. Come over, tonight, and have dinner with me.”

(Y/N) stared at the boy for a second, taken aback. Did he just ask her out to dinner? Of course, it was only because they had to act together… “Uh yeah, sure, what time?”

“Six o’clock. We can practice before and then eat. If you give me your number I’ll text you my address.”

(Y/N) nodded and pried the pencil Newt was twirling subconsciously in his hand, surprising him with her boldness yet again. “You’re welcome,” he joked laughingly.

Scrawling her number on a piece of paper and tearing it out before handing it to Newt, (Y/N) grinned and jested back, “And you’re welcome, too.”

Newt couldn’t hold back a giggle at that, and (Y/N) looked at him for the first time with an appreciation of how cute he could be. His little laugh was so soft compared to his often harsh words, and his voice was made more husky and mature by his British accent. Newt was a conundrum, no doubt, but she knew there was so much more to learn about him than he seemed to want to let on. Suddenly, she found herself anticipating dinner more than she expected.

———————————————

“So tell me, what is the story behind the ‘Lost Boys’?” I popped a grape in my mouth and looked across the lunch table at Lydia curiously.

The strawberry blond pursed her lips, as if wondering where to begin. “It all started with Peter. His friends gave him the nickname “Peter Pan” a few years back due to his… ah… liberal tendencies. He gained the admiration of boys and infamy among girls; his reputation precedes him, and yet, every girl wants to be with him, and every boy wants to be him.”

I was unsurprised with Peter’s loose behavior. He certainly seemed like someone who held nothing back; one would think, though, that eventually he would be old news. I wondered how it were possible for someone like him to not be collectively despised by everyone around him. Then I remembered how intimidating he had been at the game the night before… No one had ever frightened me so. I snorted scornfully at the thought that, of course, someone like Peter had to rely on fear to control everyone around him. I shifted thoughtfully, “So where do all his friends come into this?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Friends? Other than the handful of ‘friends’ he has, the rest can all safely be called ‘followers’, like Felix and Baelfire. But of his friends, there are none left untainted. Gally is the school bully; while Peter terrorizes girls, Gally terrorizes boys, but not in that sense. Thomas is often the leader of all Lost Boys operations, so while Peter can claim to have slept with almost every girl he lays eyes on, Thomas can say he was the mastermind behind it all. Though, don’t get me wrong, he’s been with his fair share of girls, and even tried to play me.”

My eyes widened. “Really, you? What happened?”

The other girl seemed annoyed just thinking about it. “He had chased me for years, and when I finally fell for him, he didn’t care anymore. He just enjoyed the chase, and nothing else.”

I nodded, realization dawning on me. “No wonder you were particularly sassy to him. I noticed.” I winked and smiled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can genuinely say that I think your comments successfully get to him.”

Lydia flashed a victorious smile with her red lips. “That’s the hope.”

I laughed, but then remembered there was more I wanted to know. “So, uh,” I started shyly. “So what about Newt? What’s his story?”

Lydia paused thoughtfully. “As far as the Lost Boys go, he is the most agreeable. But he’s damaged goods – a few years ago, his parents got divorced, and he was dragged through the court and was put through hell for many, many months. He came out of the trials a changed man. That was when he met Peter. For that following year, he was just as infamous as Peter. He hurt a lot of people, lost a lot of friends. I can’t say that I was particularly forgiving, because after the whole Thomas thing, I couldn’t see how Newt could be any of their friends anymore. But the one person that stuck through his side was Minho. Minho refuses to identify himself as a Lost Boy; he’s different. And if it weren’t for his loyalty and friendship, I fear Newt would have ended up in a much worse place than he actually was in. But this year things have been quiet; Peter has taken the spotlight and Newt has slowly drawn into himself again. I don’t think he will ever be the same again, though.”

I swallowed slowly. I hadn’t touched my food once while Lydia spoke, entranced. I wonder why his parents were divorced? Why was it so messy? I was no stranger to parent problems; I itched to ask Lydia more about Newt, but remembering what he was like, I figured he probably talked to no one about it anyway. I didn’t speak to anyone about what I went through with my parents. It made me uneasy, though, thinking about all the things Newt did in his angst and grief. I wonder what he was like. I suddenly felt like there were so many versions of Newt I hadn’t met, and I wished I knew what they all were like. The more I thought about him, the more intrigued I became. Perhaps dinner will spark meaningful conversation between the two of us, I hoped.

———————————————

I was running around the house half-dressed and in a frenzy, my hair still damp from my shower and my clothes strewn across my bedroom floor. I knelt on the floor and threw aside clothes frantically in order to find something nice to wear. My eyes fell on a plain, silky white dress that would hopefully look casual but pretty. I quickly threw it on, ducked into a gold necklace with a pink stone pendant, and started on my makeup. I kept it simple, with foundation, a tinge of blush, mascara, and a rosy lipstick to finish it. I didn’t want to seem like I tried too much; even though in reality, I probably was overthinking every little thing. I hurriedly flung my bag over my shoulder, stuffing my script, phone, and keys into it before finally running out of the house and towards my car.

As soon as I turned on my car, my phone rang. I checked it and saw it was Teresa, my best friend. I smiled and picked up. “Teresa! Nice timing, I just started driving.”

I could hear my friend’s light, tinkling laugh over the phone. “Ooh, on your date with this mysterious Newt?”

“It’s not a date!” I protested loudly, glad she couldn’t she the reddening of my cheeks.

She laughed at me, clearly not believing a word, no matter what the truth. “Mm-hmm, alright. Well if he’s an ass to you today again, I’m coming right over to deal with him myself, alright?”

I smiled at her sweetness. “I wish you could come over anyway.”

She paused for a second. “Me too. I’ve missed you since you’ve left.”

I sighed wistfully. “I’ve missed you too. But I really needed to get away from that place, you know? And anyway, Glader Prep isn’t so bad. And I’ve started to make friends, I guess. I just don’t really know anyone here, so it’s hard.”

Teresa understood. “I know. Well then, that’s why Newt’s gonna fall in love with you and introduce you to all his friends and all will be well, right?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you just said that. Truthfully, I think all his friends are kind of jerks to everyone, but… I dunno why, I actually like them, in spite of it all.”

“You and bad boys,” Teresa said warningly. “It’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“I dunno why, I can’t help it!” I insisted. “But don’t worry, I’m not stupid. I’ll be careful,” I added smilingly.

I pulled up into Newt’s street and saw… Only one mansion. My jaw dropped. “Umm…” I said nervously, checking the address Newt texted me again. “I’m pretty sure I’m in the right place but…” I muttered to myself.

Teresa overheard. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

I bit my lip. “I think Newt literally lives in a mansion. Did not see that coming.”

Teresa burst out laughing. “How am I not surprised though? He dresses nice, has a British accent, is well-mannered - well, most of the time - I mean come on, it makes total sense!”

I groaned. “No, there’s no way I’m going in there. I’ll just call and cancel.” Too late. The gate buzzed and opened for me. Great, he must have seen me. I nervously pulled up on what seemed like a mile-long driveway, past elegantly engraved fountains and stallion statues and trimly cut lush green bushes until finally reaching the front of his house, where I parked my car.

“Okay, I gotta go now, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I said to my friend.

“Okay, but tell me everything afterwards!” I could practically see Teresa jumping up and down excitedly. I smiled at that, nerves calmed a bit, and exited my car to walk up to his house.

[ Next (Ch. 5) ]

[inkspirings]

Peter Pan Imagine Request: You’re Beautiful (Dominique)

Request: Can I request a Peter Pan imagine? I'm 5'3 and have a petit figure. I have light blue hair and hazel eyes. I love art and indie/alternative music. I'm also really into running and being outside in general.  I very introverted because I don't like sharing things with people but I'm not socially awkward or anything. I love animals.  I struggle with severe depression/anxiety but you wouldn't necessarily be able to tell. I love creative people who I could sit and have random conversation about the universe with and I'm really into travelling. I'm also really into mermaids..I don't know if this gives you enough information but thank you!

Word Count: 3,219 (I loved writing this! I kind of figured you would like more details and description, and just ended up getting really into it. Also, sorry if it’s an atypical Peter Pan imagine, I just kind of went with the flow. Really bummed I didn’t get to include anything about mermaids in it *-*)

——————————————

The sound of crashing waves rushed in your ears. You felt trickling at the heels of your feet, tickling and waking your senses. You felt heat and light on your eyelids, and you began to move and feel for your surroundings before you finally opened your eyes tiredly. You squinted, and were met with an overwhelmingly bright glint of shimmery white and blue. You felt your feet sink into the ground, and you looked down to find yourself at the edge of a beach, the waves only just reaching your thin, bare legs.

Where am I? you asked yourself dazedly. You rubbed your temple, trying to recall the last thing you could remember. But you were coming up blank. You could hardly remember anything specific before waking up; whatever there was to recall, it seemed it simply wasn't worth recalling.

Still, you felt a feeling of unease creep up your spine as you looked around. You were on what seemed to be an enchanting island of breathtaking beauty, but you were alone. You pushed off of the sand weakly and scanned your surroundings: miles and miles of endless sea stood in front of you, palm trees and pieces of a tattered canoe covered the embankment, and directly behind you was a dense, lush forest that seemed to be as old as age itself. There seemed to be little beyond the island other than the forest itself; suddenly you found yourself afraid. What could possibly be in there?

You glanced down at your feet searchingly, but you had no possessions besides the clothes on your back. If you wanted to survive, let alone find shelter and food, you would have no other choice but to travel through the forest. You sucked in a deep breath bracingly, and took cautious steps forward.

The dense, wet leaves blocked your vision from stretching out far, and as soon as you drew one branch aside, another soon blocked your path. The thick overhead soon darkened the world around you, almost completely blocking off any sunlight, only a few rays feebly seeping through the cracks of the trees above. You shivered as you felt chills crawl up your arms, the disconcerting feeling of someone watching you overcoming you. You glanced around nervously, but there was no one else besides you. All was quiet. Too quiet.

You nervously thought that a rainforest should be teeming with life, with croaks of frogs, flapping of wings and chirping of birds, and singing of crickets. Yet… You heard nothing. Shuddering, you took a cautious step forward, ears perked, senses heightened, unable to shake off the feeling that you were not alone. Suddenly, you spotted movement behind a large, gnarled tree to your right, and whipped your head in its direction. Nothing. You moved away from it, instinctively - you were in no rush to find out what was lurking in the dark. Nevertheless, you heard the sound of a snapping twig behind you.

You whirled around in a blur, arms lifted to your chest, fists curled, and were met with an intimidating boy. He was tall with messily spread out blond hair sticking out of a black hooded cloak, a deep scar running along his cheek, and a lethal club swung casually over his shoulder. His piercing blue eyes stared at you with hints of both amusement and dislike. “Well, well, well,” he drawled lazily, in a course, yet amused tone, taking a step forward towards you, “Who might you be?” He stopped walking forward only a few feet beyond you.

You nervously took a step back, your thoughts running rampant as you tried to analyze your situation. Clearly, this boy belonged on this land, and you were trespassing on it. Perhaps he saw you as a threat? But, maybe he didn't care who you were, and would simply hurt or kill you. You eyed his club fearfully. He was definitely a lot taller and stronger than you; you could not escape his grasp if he attacked.

Speechless, you stammered, “I-I’m sorry, I j-just found myself on the b-beach and I, I don't know how I got here. W-where are we?”

You took a small step backwards, and stumbled, tripping over a log and almost falling backwards, if it weren't for two sharp points sticking you in the back. You yelped, surprised, and whipped around, only to find yourself facing two masked boys holding spears threateningly to your chest. You raised your arms up, shaking, and cried out. “Wait, no-!” You turned to plead to the first boy, but were met with darkness.

——————————————

“We caught our intruder, Pan,” the scarred blond boy called out to a tall boy standing statue-like by a lapping fire, the only source of light in this shadowed patch of the forest, which was shielded from the sun by overgrown, unshackled trees with great, broad leaves. The statue-like boy continued to stare into the fire, unconcerned, the flames illuminating the shadows and accenting the angles of his face. Trailing behind Felix were the two straggly boys, whose spears were hanging off their backs, and in whose arms was the limp body of the mysterious new girl whose presence had raised alarm among these boys.

With a thud, the girl was dropped onto the rough earth behind Pan and the boys took slight step backwards into the shadows - the blond boy close on their heels - and disappeared. The boy called “Pan” turned and considered his prisoner lying unconscious on the floor. He stepped forward and bent down to pull the gag off of her. He started at her unfamiliar light blue hair, which faded towards the end elegantly, appearing fairy-like. He drunk in the image of the girl, who had a thin, curved nose, sharp, angled cheekbones, and pale pink lips. He was surprised by her delicately petite figure, all angles and bones, what with her prominent collarbones and slim fingers. She didn’t look particularly dangerous, Pan thought contemplatively.

He pondered over what to do with her; he knew he would have to wake her to question her, but he was stumped as to where to keep her. She looked much too fragile to be kept in the cages; Pan couldn’t help but think that she was a wild thing. She looked like she belonged to the wild, a creature of free spirit and ground. He sighed heavily, fearing he would have trouble containing her. He glanced towards her face again. Her eyelids drooped heavily, her eyelashes fluttering against her pale skin. Instinctively, Pan wondered what the color of her eyes were. Would they be blue, like her hair? Her mouth was slightly parted as she, in her rest, took deep, peaceful breaths. Her chest rose and fell slightly, resembling a fragile bird, and Pan knew in that moment she was at complete rest in Neverland. She belonged to this island, and this island belonged to her.

Never had a soul felt so in tune with the ground beneath its feet, save Peter’s. Peter stared for a minute more, wonderingly, before shaking himself from his stupor and backing away from the girl, eyeing her suspiciously. There’s something about her, he thought to himself distractedly. He shrugged off his amazement, returning to his original suspicion. He focused himself, and willed the girl to wake. Immediately, she stirred, and blinked confusedly. She shot up from her place on the ground, and glanced around her nervously, too afraid to meet the eyes of her captor directly. Her eyes fell on Pan, and she flittingly assessed him, noticing his oddly neat-looking brown hair, sharp jaw, and breathtakingly green eyes. He was watching her intently, sizing her up; the intensity of his gaze caused her to look away as quickly as she looked at him. Pan found himself comparing his prisoner to a trapped, despairing animal, desperately looking for an escape. She would find none.

Peter stepped forward slowly, so as not to startle her into any sudden movements, but purposefully enough to command her attention. “You’re awake now, good. Now tell me, who are you?” Peter’s voice rumbled threateningly, intimidating the petite girl into a frightened cower.

“I-I’m Dominique,” she stuttered. Her hazel eyes were wide with confusion. Hazel. Pan could almost lose himself in the depth of her eyes. They bore the unmistakable mark of a lost child, of feelings buried deep within one’s bones, and yet the hopeful glimmer of a spirited, adventurous soul. Her light, fluttery voice broke his thoughts, “W-where am I?”

Peter strolled proudly around Dominique, and stretched his arms wide. “This is Neverland. But you already know that, don’t you?”

The frightened girl shook her head frantically. “N-no… I don’t know how I got here.”

Peter scowled and turned to face her directly, lowering himself slightly to stare down into her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, love; I am Peter, Peter Pan, ruler of Neverland.”

Dominique looked up at Peter Pan with a scandalized look. “I’m not!” She shouted suddenly, a burst of boldness overcoming her. She hated the idea of being falsely accused of something. She glared at Pan, a newfound courage rising out of her spite. “How did I get here?” She demanded, shaking. This Peter Pan boy may have had an unmistakably frightening quality about him, but he was just a boy, probably around her own age. She had no doubt she could outsmart him if she tried hard enough. She was also probably much quicker than him, in case he tried to chase her.

Peter narrowed his eyes at Dominique, finally resigning himself to the idea that she was telling the truth. However, her arrival was inexplicable… his Shadow only brought him lost boys. Never a lost girl. She must indeed be quite special. He gave her a once-over glance, before deciding to trust her. “Neverland is home to the lost boys, the children who belonged nowhere in the world, until they found haven here and became infinitely youthful. It seems my Shadow has deemed you a lost child, like everyone else here. This means, from this point forward, Neverland will be your new home.”

“W-why are there no other girls?” Dominique asked shyly, wringing her nimble fingers restlessly. She feared she would be nothing but a lonely outlier on this island, if surrounded by boys for all eternity.

Pan shrugged. “I play a flute whose melody can be heard only by lost boys. No girl has ever been able to hear its sound.” Peter cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “But perhaps you are an exception.”

The hazel-eyed girl shifted uncomfortably. “Why me?” She breathed.

Pan eyed her carefully. “Why not?” He stared at her again, admiring her odd, yet compelling beauty. “You seem special enough.”

Dominique timidly tucked a blue strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just hard to believe,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone. She avoided making eye contact with Pan. Pan noticed, and, taking a few steps forward, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, scared to apply too much pressure, as if she were fragile glass threatening to shatter any moment.

“Hey,” he whispered with a little smirk. “The whole of Neverland runs on belief. Here, let me show you.” He hastily took her hand within his, and reaching with his other hand into his pocket, pulled out a tiny flask of what seemed to be sparkling gold flecks. Dominique stared in wonder as he uncorked the tiny bottle and grinned at her mischievously. “Pixie dust,” he stated simply, before dumping its contents onto themselves.

They rose into the air, and Dominique felt herself losing balance, shrieking and leaning forward instinctively in order to grip onto Peter Pan even tighter. Peter grinned as he observed her reaction, causing her to blush, cheeks reddening. But she had no time to be embarrassed, for they rose higher and higher with every second into the sky. They were… flying. Unbelievably, inexplicably, they were flying! Dominique laughed at the wonder of it all, and was surprised to even hear the sound; it didn’t sound hollow, or forced, or empty. A wonderful feeling rose within her, rising as she rose in the twilight sky. With a start, she realized it was pure, genuine happiness, caused by this daunting emerald-eyed boy and his pixie dust. She let out another giggle as she tried to balance herself as Peter Pan was balanced, breathing heavily before finally bursting, “How is this possible? You can fly!”

Peter Pan gazed at her proudly. “No, we can fly. It only takes a sprinkle of pixie dust and belief.”

“Belief in what?” Dominique’s eyes glittered with her wide-eyed curiosity.

“Magic,” Pan breathed, almost reverently. He paused, and Dominique knew it was no lie. On this island, magic was real. On this island, the world was hers. On this island, she was free. She let out a breath of awe. Before she knew it, and too soon for her liking, she felt her feet gently touch the hard earth once again. She stumbled, struggling to regain her balance, but Pan caught her, placing a hand on the small of her back, and the other on her outstretched arm. Dominique smiled weakly, giving Pan a shy, brief look of gratitude. “Thank you, Peter Pan,” she gasped, laughing lightly.

“Please,” he urged seriously, “call me Peter.”

Dominique nodded nervously, straightening herself out distractedly. “Peter,” she affirmed, his name rolling off her tongue with a breathy softness. Peter smiled slightly at this, sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his long, long life.

——————————————

“So, can you really do anything on Neverland, as long as you imagine it and believe in it?” You asked, fascinated.

You were walking with Peter along the outskirts of the forest, approaching a peak in the rising landscape. The trees were scattered now, allowing the moonlight to spill onto the island. Peter had taken you around Neverland, showing you all the places to be seen, familiarizing you with the landscape. You were sure you had never seen a more beautiful sight, though you still could not remember what your life was like before you had landed in Neverland.

Your memory was fuzzy, as if you could remember aspects of your life from before, but could not place names or faces. Yet, oddly enough, you felt lingering emotions and feelings of your past; but when you were with Peter, they faded insignificantly into the distance, a long-forgotten remnant of what your life used to be like. Now you were in Neverland, and you were making memories anew.

“Yes, almost anything,” Peter laughed with a raised eyebrow. “You have to be a true believer. But the flying, the flying part’s easy.”

“Really? Can you teach me to fly better?” you asked, bashful. You were nervous he would say no, or would get annoyed. For some reason, you didn't want to annoy Peter Pan.

Peter Pan grinned in return. “Of course! No need to even ask, love.” Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, and you looked ahead quickly to see why. You were at the peak of the island, looking down upon the the glittering beach and the gently-rolling sea, and Skull Rock. Pan called it the heart of the Neverland. You stood in awe, breathtaken by the beauty of the scene.

“Wow,” you exhaled. Peter gave you a slanted look, admiring the beauty of your fascination. Your hazel eyes reflected brightness of the moon and the it's glinting reflection in the sea, as they captured all the beauty in front of them. Your light blue hair, the color of seafoam in the morning, was flowing slightly in the breeze, capturing the winds gently. Your broad smile, though rare, gave a brightness about you Pan couldn't not notice. “It's beautiful,” you breathed, still drinking in the landscape, oblivious to Pan’s gaze.

“You're beautiful,” Peter whispered, instinctively.

Your eyes tore away from the sea and locked onto Peter’s, which were gazing at you with unbelievably soft admiration. “W-what?” You stammered, a flush rising slightly on your pale skin.

Peter continued to look at you intensely, smiling twistedly as he noticed your reaction. “I said you're beautiful.”

Your fingers began to twirl your hair nervously. You could not remember anything before Neverland, but you were sure no one had said that to you, not like that. You sucked in a small gasp of breath. “Oh, I-I mean, I'm not, I'm too --”

Peter grasped your hands within his, with a gentle firmness. “No, not like that. I mean you, you in your entirety, heart, soul, mind, you are beautiful. Your eyes are beautiful. Your hair is beautiful. Who you are…” He didn't need to finish. You were staring up at him breathlessly, standing at the tip of rocky land, on the outskirts of the forest, and you never felt like you had belonged anywhere more. Peter made you feel at home.

“I… Thank you… I don't know what to say. I can't remember much from my old life, but if what you say is true, and I'm just a lost girl, then I don't want to remember. I just want to start a new life, here, that is, if I can stay…” You were beginning to nervously ramble. Your hands were shaking in Peter’s, and his watch over you made your heart flutter. “I mean, I don't even know if the Lost Boys would even like me --”

Peter broke you off by releasing your right hand in order to cup your cheek, raising your chin slightly in order to press his mouth against yours with feverish urgency. His response shocked you, and you pulled back quickly, in order to search the magical boy's eyes.

His hand stroked your hair, pushing aside the front strands to tuck them behind your ear. “They'll love you,” he promised in a raspy voice, out of breath from the suddenness of the kiss.

“How do you know?” You asked softly, unable to keep the abashed look off your face.

Peter leaned in closely, nudging his nose against yours slightly before brushing his mouth against your check to whisper in your ear, “Because I'm already starting to.” His hot breath spilled over your cheek and neck, the warmth making you shudder against the cool breeze of the night. Peter continued to run his mouth along your jawline, and you tilted your head back to give him full access, and he lowered his hand from your hair to your jaw as he returned to kiss your parted lips, gasping for breath, as he continued to take it away.

This time, you leaned into the kiss, your lips colliding with his both in fervent anticipation and with whimsical timelessness. You gasped into the kiss, and Peter flicked his tongue against yours, teasingly. You responded by running your fingers teasingly up his spine and into his hair, pulling it from its characteristic neatness. He groaned against your mouth, making you smile and giggle, breaking the kiss. His emerald eyes, the color of the thick copse around you, watched you longingly as your linked your arms around his shoulder happily. “I'm starting to love you, too,” you whispered to Peter quietly, your forehead resting against his.

[inkspirings]

The Hunt (Ch. 3)

Info: TMR & OUAT & TW | Newt | Word Count: 2,080 | Ch. 3 Summary: At Glader Prep, a group of boys called the Lost Boys have all the girls of the school wrapped around their fingers. They keep a watchful eye over every student, until a new girl moves to town. Intrigued, the Lost Boys begin the hunt for her… Until they realize they might just be her prey instead.

[ Previous (Ch. 2) ]

The crowd was thick, and the bleachers were packed with students, teachers, and families. Everyone came out to support the team on their first game of the season. I looked around nervously, daunting by the overwhelming amount of unfamiliar faces. Everyone seemed to know Lydia though.

“Hey Lydia!”

“Hi Lydia!”

“What’s up, Lydia?”

Lydia spared most people a small smile before looking out into the crowd to find Minho. My eyes fell on Minho the same did. “Minho!” She called out, waving him over to our spot. He grinned and bound forward to us.

“Hey Lyds. And hey, you’re (Y/N), right?”

I smiled and nodded. “That’s me.”

Minho flashed another one of his million dollar smiles. “You’ve got everyone curious, (Y/N). I’m sure people have been asking you lots of questions.”

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “I guess you guys don’t get new students a lot. But no, no one’s really approached me. Maybe it’s because of my intense resting bitch face.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Naw, you seem too nice for that.”

I pouted in mock disappointment. “Oh no, don’t say that, I’ve worked so hard on it.”

That made Minho laugh and he apologized jokingly. He was just speaking when he heard his friends call out to him and he turned.

“Oy, Minho!” an unfamiliar voice called out.

I turned to the voice, and saw it was accompanied by the two boys I met earlier today. I gritted my teeth and leaned into Lydia. “You didn’t tell me you’re friends with them,” I whispered urgently in an irritated tone, jerking my head in the direction of the approaching group of boys.

Lydia looked over and groaned. Pursing her lips, she replied, “Mutual friends. Strictly.” She looked at me with a furrowed brow. “You’ve heard about them already?”

I looked at her curiously. “No, I met them. What is there to hear about? Who are they?”

Lydia grabbed my arm fervently. “Avoid them. They’re the Lost Boys. That boy over there,” she nodded in the direction of a tall, thin boy with neatly combed hair, the one who introduced himself earlier to me as Peter, “he’s a demon, the worst of them all. Avoid him and you should be fine.”

I eyed them warily, unsure of how to take the news. I didn’t have time to decide what to make of them, though, because they bunched up around and onto the bleachers next to us, clapping Minho’s back and shaking hands one by one. One of the boys was in a lacrosse uniform. He must be on the team, I thought.

“Hey, Minho. Hey Lyds.” Lydia rolled her eyes and tossed her hair sassily, ignoring him.

Minho greeted his friend more warmly. “Thoomaas!” he shouted out excitedly, pulling him into a hug and clapping his back. “Excited for the game, man!”

Thomas winked. “Hell yeah you should be.” He turned towards me. “Hey, we haven’t met. I’m Thomas.”

I smiled and said, “(Y/N). So you play on the team?”

Thomas grinned and opened his mouth to speak, but Lydia cut him off. “Badly,” she quipped.

Thomas flashed her a look of hurt and gripped his heart dramatically. “Ouch,” he gasped. Lydia shrugged and turned away. My jaw dropped and I looked at her with amusement. I turned to Thomas questioningly, but he was already busy talking to his friends again.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys later. Gally’s already out there on the field, better join him.” With that, he was off. Newt wished him good luck before settling down right behind Minho, and Peter sat next to him.

I could feel the blond boy’s curious gaze on me as he sat close to me. I wondered if I should take Lydia’s advice and avoid the Lost Boys, silly nickname and all, altogether, or if I should just treat them as I would any other person. Newt at least, seemed rather harmless.

I glanced up at him, studying him carefully while he talked to Minho and Peter. His blond hair was neatly styled to look casual yet well made. Every few minutes a couple strands of hair would fall to cover his eyes, and he would push his hair back, returning it to its original form. His eyes showed little emotion in and of themselves, I had to rely on his occasional smile or the movement of his jaw to gage his emotion, though even then I could hardly tell what he was thinking. He didn’t seem to let on very much in front of others. He looked slightly odd, sitting in a nice, button up collared shirt while surrounded by people in t-shirts and school gear. He seemed rather detached from the crowd, yet blended in seamlessly as if he fit nowhere else better.

I must’ve stared too long, though, as he suddenly pulled away from his conversation and turned his head in my direction. I gave him a brief tilt of the head before averting my gaze, hoping it didn’t seem like he caught me staring at him. Too late. He caught me staring. Newt stood up and brought himself down onto the space open next to me. “I thought you had plans tonight,” he remarked with a smirk.

I shrugged unabashedly, grinning. “I did. I had plans to go home, change into pajamas, curl up in my bed and watch T.V with ice cream, sobbing over how terrible my first day of school was.”

Newt let out a small, surprised laugh. “You don’t seem like the type,” he replied, with a look of skepticism.

My mouth twisted into a faint smile. “I’m not,” I assured him. “But I did have plans to not make plans. Guess Lydia can be quite persuasive.”

Newt glanced over at her. “Should I be offended Lydia was able to drag you out with her but I wasn’t?”

I leaned against the bleacher lazily and shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to up your game, next time. What can I say, I couldn’t turn down the first friendly face I saw all day.”

“Aw, not even me, sweetheart?” A voice drawled out from behind Newt. Newt turned his head slightly to the side, but – knowing already who it was – didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, merely scoffing with a slight shake of his head and an eye roll.

I didn’t miss his reaction, but instead I hooked eyes with Peter’s and shot daggers at him. “Is that a tone of surprise? I wonder why,” I coated my words with as much sarcasm as I could muster.

Peter huffed sadly, looming over Newt and me as he stood on the row above us. “And here I thought we were getting along.”

I squint up at him, wondering how much of him was ever sincere. I didn’t want to be overly rude to someone I just met, but at the same time I knew boys like Peter - they were hardly capable of feeling anything at all. “Actually, no, I was getting along with Newt here, until you interrupted,” I stated, all while smiling sweetly.

Peter scowled and his face twisted into a menacing glare. He lowered himself to my eye level, inching closer to my face with every word. “Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” he threatened slowly, a furious pause between each word. His green eyes glowered with focused rage into mine, rendering me too intimidated to respond. My voice caught in my throat; Peter’s ability to frighten me caught me off guard. He withdrew his face away from mine and straightened up, never tearing his gaze away from mine. He cocked his head to the side and smiled arrogantly, matching my own false sweet tone from earlier, “It wasn’t polite, you know.” He turned and stalked off, lowering himself down next to a tall boy with messy blond hair popping out of his drawn hood.

I watched anxiously as Peter and he started whispering to one another. I turned away, shaken; few people actually managed to scare me, but this Peter was definitely one of them. His eyes had a way of holding onto your gaze against your will, drawing you in and compelling you to look. It didn’t help that he was neither annoying or rude, yet had an infuriating ability to crawl under one’s skin. I shuddered and scowled to myself, annoyed that he had bothered me on a night I intended to enjoy myself. Just when I thought this school wouldn’t be so bad… I sighed frustratedly.

Newt gave a sympathetic half smile from beside you. “Ah, ignore him, (Y/N), he’s always like that.”

I glared unforgivingly. “Is he like that to you? I doubt it.”

Newt frowned. “Actually, yeah, he is,” he muttered. “He’s like that with everyone. Don’t let him get to you, though, he just doesn’t know how to behave around a beautiful girl.”

I raised my eyes to meet Newt’s, surprised by his comment. His face, though, was impassive, beyond the intensity of his gaze meeting mine. I lowered my eyes nervously and glanced back up. I asked, a little too loudly and jokingly, as if I found the idea absurd, “You think I’m beautiful?”

The expression of his face unshifting, Newt nodded slightly and merely breathed, “I do.”

My cheeks felt warm as I smiled and shook my head slightly, turning away from Newt to watch the lacrosse players running across the field. Newt turned his head, watching me with furrowed brows. “What?” he asked curiously.

“Nothing,” I insisted, without looking at Newt. His fixed stare made me nervous, for his eyes glimmered with such intensity it felt as though he could see right through me. I was struggling to keep up my walls around him; he was confusingly so intimidating yet so kind at the same time.

He shrugged pleasantly and faced forward as well, elbows propped up lazily on the bleacher behind him. He seemed to be waiting for me to elaborate. I sighed and turned to him, propping my elbow up on the bleacher and pushing my hair back seriously. “Okay, honestly, the Lost Boys have a reputation you’re not quite living up to right now.”

Newt’s head snapped in my direction, pulling an annoyed expression on his face. “Oh yeah?” he grumbled. “What reputation is that?”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s hardly a secret. I mean you hang out with Peter, for goodness sake.”

Newt knitted his eyebrows together angrily. “So you’re judging me based on who I hang out with?”

“Your friends say a lot about you, surprisingly,” I say tonelessly.

“So, your lack of friends says a lot about you then, I guess, right?” Newt shot back spitefully.

I couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, it says I’m the new girl in the school where everyone already knows one another, and everybody just keeps bringing it up. Thanks, Newt. Real nice,” my voice rose considerably, but the cheering crowd remained oblivious to us arguing. My eyes were stinging with frustrated tears that threatened to pour out. I had tried so hard all day to appear to be tough, but that was all crumbling down thanks to Newt. His words had hurt me, and I didn’t even know why.

“You probably shouldn’t go around judging people then who you’ve just met,” Newt spat bitterly, rising from the bleachers, glaring down at me.

I, too, rose heatedly. “Don’t worry, the only opinion I have of you was formed through this conversation. You’ve said enough,” I snapped. I shoved past him, pushing my way through the thick of the crowd to make my way off the field and into the parking lot. I vaguely heard my name being called out by a girl – it could only be Lydia – and bumped into Peter on my descent off the bleachers. He gave me a startled look and opened his mouth to say something witty no doubt, but I didn’t give him the chance, merely stepping around him. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I sprinted towards my car, leaving the flashes of red and white and the shouts and cheers behind. I fumbled around my bag for my keys and threw myself into the driver’s seat, instantly slamming the door shut and dropping my head onto the steering wheel. It was decided. As the first tear finally broke free and ran down my flushed cheeks, I just knew. I hate it here, I thought to myself miserably.

[ Next (Ch. 4) ]