Laine, she/her, purple, aries, feminist, equality, human rights,autumn, dracotok, bookworm, journals, poetry, writer, fan girl, teenage girl, thought daughter.
Fav artists: Lana del rey, mazzy star, the neighborhood, chase Atlantic, arctic monkeys, jeff Buckley, bon jovi, the smiths, bob dylan, tv girl, aidan gallagher.
Fandoms: Harry Potter, hunger games, maze runner, divergent, the mortal instruments, the lord of the rings, looking for alaska, 13 reasons why, virgin suicides, perks of being a wallflower, dead poets society, vampire diaries, gilmore girls, twilight, pirates of the Caribbean, umbrella academy, stanger things, anne with an e, Wednesday.
Fav directors: sofia Coppola & tim Burton
Fav celebs: emma watson, natalie portman, kristine froseth, kristen dunst, kaya scodelario, aidan gallagher, and jamie bower.
Authors note: Welcome to my tumblr blog! I am new to writing fanfictions and also english isn't my first language so bare with me hehe :)
Also feel free to leave fanfic requests!!
Anyways I hope you enjoy my stories and my writing! Best wishes!🪽 💋
Laine, she/her, purple, aries, feminist, equality, human rights,autumn, dracotok, bookworm, journals, poetry, writer, fan girl, teenage girl, thought daughter.
Fav artists: Lana del rey, mazzy star, the neighborhood, chase Atlantic, arctic monkeys, jeff Buckley, bon jovi, the smiths, bob dylan, tv girl, aidan gallagher.
Fandoms: Harry Potter, hunger games, maze runner, divergent, the mortal instruments, the lord of the rings, looking for alaska, 13 reasons why, virgin suicides, perks of being a wallflower, dead poets society, vampire diaries, gilmore girls, twilight, pirates of the Caribbean, umbrella academy, stanger things, anne with an e, Wednesday.
Fav directors: sofia Coppola & tim Burton
Fav celebs: emma watson, natalie portman, kristine froseth, kristen dunst, kaya scodelario, aidan gallagher, and jamie bower.
Authors note: Welcome to my tumblr blog! I am new to writing fanfictions and also english isn't my first language so bare with me hehe :)
Also feel free to leave fanfic requests!!
Anyways I hope you enjoy my stories and my writing! Best wishes!🪽 💋
Hi :) i absolutely love love love your writing! Could you write a Newt x Fem!Reader having their first time, learning about what feels good for each other, and it's all gentle and sweet? And they have a little make out session in the showers afterwards? <3
"I like my body when it is with your body." — E.E. Cummings
NSFW Newt x Fem!Reader 𑣲 WC: 6,988
A/N: I am so sorry this ended up being so freaking long, and it took me forever to post. I sort of just took the idea and ran with it. I hope it fulfills the expectations you had for this request! I'll edit it someday, but for now, if you see any errors: No, you don't.
The vents are colder than you'd expected.
Metal hums under your palms as you crawl, powerless to silence each beat of your frantic heart. The facility runs on a strict lockdown at night: Doors sealed, guards patrolling on strict rotations, and no wandering. No 'unauthorized movement', whatever that's supposed to mean.
Naturally, you ignore all of that.
You inch through the narrow tunnel, the metal faintly rattling with each shift of your weight. Ahead, a thin rectangle of pale light spills through the grate. You press your fingers to the frame until it loosens with a soft 'pop', and you catch it before it can clatter on the ground.
"Psst." Your whisper slips into the dark. This dorm is larger than yours: Rows of narrow cots in perfect lines and silhouettes of sleeping boys under their blankets. There's slow breathing, the occasional groan, and the rustle of someone turning over. "Psst! Newt!"
For a moment, there's nothing except the hush of sleep.
Then: A groggy noise. One of the figures sits up, hair messy and shoulders tense like he's preparing to tackle an intruder.
"Hm?" He groggily hums, and relief pours into your chest.
"Newt!" You whisper a little louder, and his head snaps in your direction. He blinks hard, forcing focus into his slumber soaked eyes.
"Wha—?" His gaze lands on you, your ridiculous head poking out of the vent. "You have got to be kidding me." He whispers in disbelief.
"Miss me?"
"You're in the vents!"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Talk to me? In the middle of the night? Through the bloody air vents?" He sounds half outraged, half impressed. He glances over his shoulder at the others, but none of them stir. "It couldn't wait 'til morning?"
"I didn't want to wait. Come with me."
"...You want me to crawl in there with you?"
"Yes."
"...In the vents?"
"Yes."
Newt goes utterly speechless, once again giving you that look. After all this time, he swears he knows you like the back of his hand, but you've managed to surprise him yet again.
"...You're bloody lucky I care about you, you twat." He drags a hand down his defeated face.
"So, that's a yes?"
"Fine." He huffs dramatically, muttering under his breath as he crouches down to meet you. "Move over." He climbs in with all the grace of someone forced into a terrible decision. "I hope you realize you're absolutely mad."
"Yes, and you love it."
"I love you. That's the problem." Your heart stutters, but before you can reply, he nods forward. "Go on then, you bloody nutcase. Wherever it is you're taking me, I'm right behind." You crawl ahead, guiding him through the tight passages until the vent widens. Another grate awaits at the end.
"There!" You motion.
The panel comes free with almost insulting ease. (Seriously. Whoever designed this place needs to be fired immediately). A cool wave of air sweeps over you as you peer inside.
It's some sort of unused observation room: Dark, empty, and abandoned. Rows of computers and medical equipment sleep beneath dusty plastic covers. A couch sits against the far wall. You slip out first; grate still tucked in your hand. Newt drops down beside you with a grunt.
"Brilliant." He mutters. "Absolutely marvelous. Sneaking into some unknown room through vents in the middle of the night. Why didn't I think of that?" Then he looks at you, really looks at you, and his foul expression melts away. It always does. "Worth it, I suppose."
"Told you."
"No. You told me nothing, except 'come with me'." He slumps heavily on the couch, stretching out his bad leg with a sigh. "Though, I reckon I'd follow you straight into a pack of Grievers if you asked."
"You sort of already have."
"Yeah. Suppose I have." He smiles and pats the cushion beside him. You sit, close, knee brushing his. Newt's hand finds yours, fingers lacing naturally. "So, I don't suppose you want to explain why you staged a midnight prison break?"
"I hate being in a different dorm."
"That's it?"
"I'm stuck on the other side of this building with a bunch of strangers. It's weird trying to fall asleep without the boys. Without you. I can't even pretend to sleep without your monstrous snoring."
"Absolute slander. I do not snore." He doesn't, but you enjoy the teasing. "Didn't think you missed me that much."
"Oh, please. It's just... I've slept in the same place as you and the others for years. I don't get why they insist on keeping us apart."
"S'cause you're a girl, in case you've forgotten."
"I haven't forgotten." You whine. "Come on, though. If anything weird was going to happen, it would've happened ages ago."
"Really?" His eyebrows shoot up, sounding somewhere between amused and insulted. "Is that what you think?"
"I- I meant—" You sputter. "I meant— Nothing bad— Like—"
"Relax." He laughs. "I'm only messing with you."
"Ha. Ha. Hilarious." You shove his shoulder, and he leans into you.
Silence settles between you: Comfortable and electric. His thumb traces slow circles over your knuckles, grounding you in the intimacy of his company. He shifts closer, thigh pressing against yours like it belongs there.
"Reckon we never really had time to figure it out." He murmurs. "Us, I mean."
"We were busy surviving." You respond softly. "Talking about... All this... Wasn't exactly high priority."
"Well, we've got time now. Don't we?"
"Yeah. Maybe we do."
"...I missed you too, by the way. More than I'd like to admit. Can't sleep without knowing you're nearby."
"Yeah? Why's that so hard to admit?"
"Because I'm the sensible, logical one between us." He scoffs. "I'm the one who's meant to stop you from doing stupidly reckless things like—" He gestures vaguely to the open vent. "Well, that."
"Mhm. Right. You're doing a terrible job, Mr. Sensible."
"Clearly." He rolls his eyes before they land back on you.
Newt's free hand lifts to your cheek, giving you every chance to pull away, but you don't. Instead, you dissolve into him. He's beautiful like this: Softened and vulnerable, his sharp edges melted into something warm.
"Is this the part where you kiss me?" You whisper.
"Bold." A shaky laugh escapes him. "Reckon it is, if you want it."
"I want it." You don't hesitate. "Do you?"
"Undoubtedly, yes." His words are so hushed, you barely hear them.
He regards you with a tender curiosity and a depth of respect that's always been unique to him. He admires your wit, your heart, your soul, your beauty, everything that is you.
Then, he closes the distance.
The kiss is slow, tender, and reverent. Like he's memorizing the shape of you. The warmth of you. The miracle of not losing you in the Maze. The hand which cups your cheek softly strokes your face. The other squeezes your fingers. When you finally part, his forehead rests against yours, breath mingling.
"Hey." You whisper, nose brushing his. "I'm starting to suspect we're more than friends."
"You think?" He grins, thumb sweeping along your bottom lip. "Hm, I might need a bit more convincing."
"Yeah?" You tug him toward you by the jaw and kiss him again: Deeper this time. It's hungry and breath stealing. A helpless sound leaves him as his hands slide to your waist, pulling you against him.
Fingers tangle in his hair.
Breaths mix.
Heat blooms across your cheeks.
When you finally break apart, he's flushed and panting, eyes half lidded as he stares at you devotedly. He laughs, and you laugh too, close enough to kiss again. He looks starving: A parched man in the desert, and you are his oasis.
"Convinced?" You taunt.
His fingers twitch against your waist, exhausting physical effort in holding himself back. His gaze flicks to your eyes, your lips, then your eyes again: Brimming with want.
"You're killin' me, Love," He mutters. "Lookin' at me like that."
"Like what?" The words prod with fraudulent innocence.
"You know damn well 'like what'. You with those big, pretty eyes— Batting your lashes at me and grinning like you're up to no good. D'you have any idea how maddening it is?"
"I might have a clue." You murmur, dragging your fingers along his jaw. He shivers, eyes fluttering shut, impossibly weak for your affection and undone by the mere brush of your hand.
Your fingertips trail the warm skin of his neck. A barely audible gasps escapes him. When his eyes open again, he watches with a dazed, adoring expression.
"You think you're real cute, don't you?" He rumbles, lovestruck and drowning in your presence.
"I think you think I'm cute." Your fingers slip under his chin, urging his face closer. He tilts into your hold without thinking.
"You've got so much power over me." He breathes. "D'you even realize it?"
You don't answer. You don't have to. It's written in the way he looks at you, in the way he follows you everywhere, no questions asked. His commitment is a natural law.
You lean in, pressing a peck to the corner of his mouth before bravely crawling into his lap. You straddle him easily, and he releases a surprised, helpless sound as your weight settles over him.
His hands grip your hips like an anchor, confirming reality. Your lips find his again: Deep and consuming. Your mouths fit like they were made for each other. He is your missing puzzle piece.
"You— " Newt pulls back for air, stunned. "You are absolutely lethal."
"Why, thank you." You whisper, locking lips again before he can recover.
A pleased hum erupts from his chest as he drags you into him, impossibly closer, strong arms winding around your waist until you're practically molded to him.
"Shite— " He curses, suddenly pulling away tightly shut eyes. Before you can express your concern, you realize the hardness poking on your thigh. His nails dig into your hips as he lifts you out of his lap, halting you over him. "S-Sorry." He barely stutters out. "Bloody hell—" Newt's face buries in your shoulder, the tip of his nose prodding the side of your neck.
"Hey," You breathe, lightheaded from the kiss. "Newt, it's okay— " Unfortunately, he doesn't hear you through the avalanche of mortified rambling spilling out of him.
"S'not something I can control— Just happens when... It's— " His voice is small, tight with shame. His whole body has gone stiff, bracing for you to pull away in disgust.
"Newt— "
"S'no disrespect— "
"Newt— "
"Just happens when I'm around you— "
"Newt— "
"Dunno know how to stop— "
"Newt!" Your voice sharpens. Not angry, but urgent to pull him out of this spiral. His head lifts a little, and he looks up at you with those pitiful eyes.
You take his hands, the ones gripping your waist, the ones desperately trying to hold you off him, and interlace your fingers. Then slowly, deliberately, you settle back down into his lap. The sound that erupts from his throat is guttural and astonished. His eyes fly wide and his thighs tense beneath you.
"You're not repulsed?"
"No." You squeeze his hands. "Newt, I like you just as much. You know that, right?"
"Y-Yeah?"
"Yeah." You persist, shifting your body. Your thighs rub against the stiff tent in his pants, and he jolts, grasping your hips to hold you still.
"Oh, Shuck— Careful with me, Love." The way he speaks is strained, intoxicatingly pathetic, like he's holding back a string of whimpers.
"...Hey, Newt?" You're not sure where the bright idea comes from. You're always overflowing with catastrophic ideas, but this one? This may just be your magnum opus of brilliant impulses.
"Yes?" His voice cracks.
"...Can I see it?"
He freezes, pupils blown wide and lips parting in disbelief. For a moment, he looks less like a boy and more like a machine someone's short circuited.
"See..." The word leaves him in a strangled, embarrassingly high pitch. "See what?" His face ignites: Scarlet across his cheeks, up the bridge of his nose, and all the way to the tips of his ears. "You mean my—?"
"Yeah."
"Good heavens." He shuts his eyes as if he may wake up from this. He doesn't. When he opens them again, you're still here and he's still hopelessly captivated. "You're serious? You absolute madwoman. You're actually serious?"
"Yeah." You nod, pretending your heartbeat isn't thrumming frighteningly loudly in your ears. "Dead serious. Griever-attack serious."
"You never do things in halves, do you? Just... Go straight for the kill." A beat of hesitation passes before he nods sharply. It's a decisive motion, like he's bracing for impact. "Alright."
"Really?" You perk, surprised by his quick agreement.
"Yeah." Newt's eyes bounce between your face and the way you're perched so comfortably in his lap. "Just... Promise me you won't laugh?"
"Cross my heart."
"Okay. Right then... Good." His whole body is coiled beneath you: Uncertain, eager, and trying so hard to be composed when he's anything but. Slowly, his hold loosens on your waist, and he brings his hands down to the button of his jeans.
"Good." You parrot.
He whispers 'okay, okay' under his breath, so quietly, you're not sure if he means it for you or for himself. It's as if he's steadying himself through the repetition, coaching himself past the unreal fact that you are here.
You ease back as he fumbles with the denim. His trembling fingers hook the waistband of his pants and tugs them down ever so slightly: Just enough for you to get a glimpse of that delicious v-line.
Part of you almost expects smooth, plastic bareness: Like a Ken doll. Sometimes, Newt doesn't even feel real. He moves through your life with uncanny intuition, always a step ahead of your thoughts, always knowing exactly what you need before you have time to name it.
"Still sure?" He asks quietly. "If this is some sort of twisted joke—"
"I'm not joking." You scoff, though you suppose he has some reason to doubt. You've definitely subjected Newt to more than his fair share of humiliating pranks. Oh, but not this. Never this. "I want to see. Please."
He shivers at the word 'please', like it's something physical, something that reaches right beneath his ribs and twists. He swallows hard, head tipping back and eyes fluttering shut. Your voice alone undoes him.
"Christ, you bloody menace." He mutters. "Look at what you've done to me. Just sittin' there, lookin' sweet as a peach and asking me to show you things like—"
"Newt." You lay your hand over his, thumb sweeping slow and soothing motions across the back of his knuckles. "Relax. It's just me, and you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I know." He shivers again under the weight of your tender touch. His eyes open slow, and the moment he sees that loving expression on your face, the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "I know it's just you. That's the issue. It's you. It's always been you."
He doesn't need to elaborate: You feel the truth of it in your bones. From the moment you first locked eyes, something in you rewired itself. Nights were spent thinking of him, dreaming of him, desiring him. You've turned over every word, every smile, every interaction.
He is truly your best friend. Your fiercest constant. Wherever you move, he moves, not out of obligation, but devotion. If you should ever need a shield, he becomes one. If you need a sword, he offers himself without hesitation. If all you need is a shoulder to fall apart on, he will sit you through every tear.
He always has.
Finally, in one quaking breath, he frees himself. His hard length slaps up against his clothed stomach, and he lets out a pained hiss, eyes darting up to your face while he waits for disgust or pity.
"Woah." The word slips out, a reaction pity and disgust never coming. His size is impressive to say the least, precum oozing from his glorious, twitching tip.
"Happy now?" He rasps, fingers trembling at his sides before curling fists into the fabric of the couch. He's already wrecked just from being exposed under your gaze: Shaking, and so obviously hard that it hurts.
"Mm, can I try something?"
"Christ, you want more?" He shivers at your hungry stare, thighs flexing beneath you. There's a mixture of apprehension and curiosity on his face. "Hell, anything you want, Love. I'm all yours anyway."
He looks so incredibly vulnerable: Open in a way he never lets himself be with anyone else. Oh, God, he trusts you. He trusts you so much it presses against your heart. It's an aching, pulsing reminder of the responsibility you hold.
For a moment, you wonder how you'd ever became the keeper of such a faith. How could someone like him, so steady, so selfless, so endlessly brave, decide that you were safe enough to unravel for? Still, you don't pull back. You never will. You trust him too. His weakness comforts you almost as much as it terrifies you.
You hesitantly reach down, poking at the head of his leaky cock. His breathing hitches, and when you pull your finger back, it exposes a translucent string between your finger and his tip. His body jerks, a strangled sound escaping past his gritted teeth.
"Ah— Love—" He gasps, quaking. "God that's so— You can't just—" His eyes are trained on the glistening mess on your finger, mouth hanging open like he's never seen anything so sinful. You've left him speechless.
"Don't worry." You mutter. "I'm not done."
Your fingers carefully wrap around him, a painfully thin touch. After all, you're not really sure how much pressure to use. You've never done this before, and you wouldn't want to hurt him.
He chokes: A real, audible sound of desperation leaves his throat as your fingers adjust around him. His hips jerk up, and he forces them still with a pained groan.
"You don't have to be gentle." He speaks in one quick breath, hands clenching the couch fabric like he's physically holding himself back from grabbing at you. "I won't break."
With that, you wrap your whole hand around him. He's so hard, and warm, a surprising combination, all under your fingertips. He gasps, back arching, his body seeking friction to ease the growing ache. He's already a panting, trembling mess and you've barely even touched him.
You let out your nerves in one shaky exhale before jerkily stroking him up and down, testing the unfamiliar movements. He lets out an obscene growl before his hand suddenly comes up over yours. He guides your movements until they're smoother, gently correcting the angle of your hand.
"Like this?"
"Mhm— That's it—" He moans a low, throaty noise. He doesn't even sound like himself. His hips rock into your hand reflexively, unable to keep himself still. "J-Just like that."
"You're so pretty, Newt." You can't help the greedy praise as he twitches in your hand. The sight of his surrender dizzying. His mewls only fuel your confidence as you pick up your speed, spreading your thighs and slotting his knee between your legs in the process. He nearly sobs, hips jerk erratically, chasing your hand while his knee rises to press between your legs.
If you'd told yourself an hour ago that you'd be grinding against Newt's knee and jerking him off in some unfamiliar room, you wouldn't have believed it. He wouldn't have either. Yet here you were.
Your arousal pools through your clothes as you fall forward, pressing your lips harshly to his in a pleasure filled daze. He groans in your mouth, hands flying to your hips, holding you tightly as his knee presses up harder. The kiss is messy: All teeth, panting breaths, and stifled moans.
His hips lurch wildly, and he lets out a sharper sound against your lips, pulling back in one quick motion.
"Wait— Wait— Wait—" He groans, and you stop immediately, eyes scanning over him in worry. His nails dig into your skin as he flips you over, back pressed against the couch. "Shuck— Not yet. I just... I need to..." His chest heaves as he hovers over you, like he's just run through the entire Maze. "I want to see you too." His fingers skim the inside of your thigh. "Please."
You nod, a breath leaving your lips with both understanding and relief as you prop yourself up slightly, pulling your shirt over your head. There's no room for insecurity. Not with Newt. He washes fear out of you entirely.
He freezes the moment your shirt comes off, fabric hitting the ground with a soft thud. His eyes drag over every inch of exposed skin and his fingers drift near your waist, like they're afraid to touch you now that there's nothing between him and your warm skin.
"Hey," You whisper, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it. "I'm not going to be the only shirtless one here, am I?" Your tone is playful enough to ease his nerves. He laughs, obediently reaching down and yanking his own shirt off, tossing it over yours to form a pile.
"Better?" He murmurs, lips curving into a lopsided smirk.
"Much." Your gaze traces the lines of his toned figure. He was a Track-Hoe once, and before that, a Runner. Of course, he knows how to use his beautiful body. Every motion he makes is practically designed to unravel you.
His hands advance experimentally over your stomach, causing a shiver. His expression shifts between smug pride and pure adoration. Strong palms map your body, memorizing every dip and swell beneath his fingertips. His thumbs toy with the edge of your bra. (He has no idea how to take it off).
"You're a vision, you know that?"
"Says you." You arch slightly, moving to unclasp your bra for him. It falls away, exposing your chest to the cool air and Newt's eager eyes.
"Shuck, look at you." He gasps, hand hesitating over you for a second before it slowly cups your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive nipple in agonizing tenderness. He kneads it curiously, and your body tingles at the foreign feeling. Then, once, he pinches a little too hard.
"Newt!" You hiss.
"Sorry." He swallows, eyes flickering from your chest, to your eyes, then to your chest again. "...Let me kiss it better." He grins, slowly lowering down and pressing his lips on your sternum, peppering across your torso in soothing lines. "Should've known you'd be sensitive. M'sorry." He lavishes open mouthed kisses over where he'd pinched, hands rubbing soft circles in your thighs with his thumbs. Your head goes fuzzy as his tongue swirls around your nipple meticulously. "So sweet, Love."
His lips move to your other breast, leaving no part absent of saliva. It's like he's made it his personal mission to make you feel good, testing what sounds he can draw out from you.
"You're so cheesy." You stutter out, fingers tangling in his hair. His hips jerk forward at the contact, hard cock rubbing on the inside of your thigh.
"Can you blame me?" His mouth drags lower across the soft planes of your stomach, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses. His tongue darts out to savor the skin above the waistband of your pants. "Can I taste you?" He whispers, hands sliding up and down your legs.
"Are you sure?"
"Never been more sure of anything." He reassures. "Let me take care of you."
You nod, and he tugs the rest of your clothes down in one quick motion, fingers squeezing you in a way that betrays his gentlemanly self-control.
His eyes are dark at the sight of you, and he kisses the inside of your thigh, working agonizingly slow until he reaches your glistening folds. He nuzzles the sensitive skin, tongue prodding out tentatively.
"Don't tease." You groan.
"So ready for me, aren't you?" His tongue drags over you in a slow, delicate stroke, and he hums, relishing in the flavor. "You taste so good. So sweet." He mumbles, tongue diving into you again.
You let out a lewd sound, and he groans against you, the vibration sending electricity through your body. His grip tightens as he licks into you again: Slow and taunting, drowning in you.
His tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it lightly, and both of your hands tangle with his hair, tugging as he experiments with intensity. He growls in response, working quickly, alternating between long licks and sharp sucks that leave your legs trembling.
He's surprisingly talented for someone who's never done this before. You feel the rocking motion of his hips thrusting against the couch, desperate for friction.
His hand slides up to cup one of your breasts again, thumb brushing over the stiff bud as his mouth worships you with everything he has. His eyes flick up, watching you through his lashes.
Your legs wrap around his neck and he lets out a strangled sound, hips jerking hard against the couch as he pants against you. His grip on your waist must be bruising at this point, but compared to the way his tongue moves on you, you barely notice.
"Newt—" You choke out his name, but he doesn't hear at first, too immersed in his desire to please you. He looks like the mere act of satisfying you is enough to gratify him. "Newt!" You repeat, tugging his hair urgently a couple times to catch his attention.
He pulls back, lips glistening and swollen from your taste. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, pupils so wide you can barely see the color in his eyes anymore.
"Yeah?" His voice is wrecked. "You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" His grip on your hips loosens slightly in concern.
"Come here." You command, propping yourself on your elbows. He obeys, crawling up the length of your body until he hovers over you again, eyes searching your face to gauge your reaction.
Your lips find his in an instant, and he kisses back hungrily, like you are his oxygen. He moans into your mouth, raw with impulse. It's messy, and you can taste your own arousal on his lips.
Your legs spread, locking around him, and his throbbing cock ruts against your slick cunt. A shudder runs through him, and he pulls back, reading you.
"You... Are you sure?" Newt's voice cracks, and he clears his throat. "We can stop here. You're not obligated—"
"Please don't stop." You interrupt immediately. "Please. I'm sure. I want you."
"Shite... Alright." He inhales sharply, forehead dropping against yours. "Alright." He shifts just enough to press the blunt head of his cock against you. "You're really sure?"
"Newt, I'm sure!"
"Alright!" He hesitates for a second before sinking in with the slow roll of his hips. There's a sharp sting as he pushes into you: Too big, too fast.
"Slower—" You grit, eyebrows furrowed as you try to catch up with the new sensation. He freezes, and his grip on your hip tightens, like he's straining under the pressure of not shoving in completely.
"Sorry." He breathes. "Too much? We can stop."
"No. No, don't stop. Just slow down, please."
"Okay." He nods obediently, taking a few deep breaths as he slows. "S'okay. Just breathe, Love." He murmurs, eyes squinted with unwavering focus. "J-Just try to relax for me, yeah?"
"Y-Yeah."
Slowly, but surely, he pushes onward. You watch closely as the entirely of his magnificent length disappears inside you. He pauses for a moment to enjoy the feeling: The tight heat sucking him in.
"You okay?"
"I'm okay." You nod. "Are you okay?"
"Am I okay?" He lets out a choked laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm bloody amazing. You feel just... Amazing." He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your jaw. You involuntarily pulse around him, and his hips jerk forward without warning. "Shuck— M'sorry—"
"No. It's okay." You let out a quivering exhale, the sting subsiding. "You can move."
"You sure?" He whispers raggedly, pressing another kiss to your forehead. It's a gesture so wholesome, it almost contradicts this whole situation. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't."
"Okay." He barely manages to sputter out. "Okay. I'm... I'm gonna move. Okay?"
"Newt, just do it."
"Alright! Okay!" He nods rapidly, trying to ground himself through the nervousness and inexperience. "Please, just tell me if you need to stop or slow down." He pulls out almost completely before slowly— Oh, so slowly, pushing back in. His eyes flutter shut briefly and his breath hitches. "You— Oh God—" He swallows. "M'not hurting you, am I?"
"You're not." You groan. Although, his ceaseless concern is endearing. "I promise, you're not. If you are, I'll tell you. Okay? Now, please, shut up and keep going."
He nods, finally giving in to the primal need to move. His hips snap forward with a rough groan, burying himself inside you again. His hands slide up your body as he finds his pace: Still so slow and careful.
You can't help the lewd sounds that escape your lips with every thrust, and your hand finds his bicep, right beside your head, nails digging into his skin. Newt whines: An actual whine. His eyes roll back momentarily before locking on your face.
Oh, those pretty eyes.
Pornographic mewls and the sound of wet slapping skin fills the room. He groans out a string of shaky, unintelligible words, losing himself in you.
"Shit— Love, I can't last—" He pants, burying his face in your neck, pressing sloppy kisses on your skin: Nipping, biting, and leaving marks that'll have you blushing later. You reach down, rubbing circles over your clit before he swats your hand away, replacing it with his. "No, let me. Please, let me make you feel good." He begs.
You oblige, and he moans in relief as you let him take over. His thumb rubs slow, teasing rotations over your clit as he continues to thrust into you. His eyes are glazed with pleasure, determined to satiate you.
"Newt—" You whine, and he sobs, bringing his lips down against yours. He moans in your mouth, tongue sliding against yours longingly. He's trembling as his hips jerk forward, hard.
"P-Please, Love— So close—" He whimpers. "Please— Just—" A broken sound leaves him as he suddenly pulls out, coating your stomach in his release. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up to what's just happened. "Shuck— I'm— Sorry— I tried—" He grunts, panting and shaking uncontrollably.
"Don't apologize." You whisper, running a finger along your cum painted abdomen, gathering the liquid and wiping it on your tongue. The taste is interestingly clean and neutral: Very Newt. He shudders, eyes following as you sample his release, jaw hanging open in shock.
"Blimey— You ate it." He mumbles to himself before swallowing. "I didn't—" He begins, but then cuts himself off, taking a positively determined tone. "I'm not done with you yet."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." He insists, hands sliding along your thighs to push them apart again. "You won't get off that easy." He chuckles, fingers finding you again without hesitation. His thumb rubs rapid circles on your clit as his head drops, kissing the sensitive spot below your ear. "So wet, sweet girl."
Two fingers prod into you with ease, and you gasp at the sensation, still craving your release.
"C-Curl your fingers a little." You stutter out, and he nods at the instruction, still scattering messy kisses against your neck and jaw. His long digits curl, and your legs begin to shake at the added pressure. "Like this?"
"Yes! Yes! Right there!" You gasp, and his breath hitches at the desperate tinge in your voice. His fingers move more confidently now: Curling just right every time he drags them back in.
"That's it. My pretty girl..." He purrs in your ear, and the praise goes straight to your core. His fingertips brush that perfect, spongey spot inside you, and you whine his name loudly. This only fuels his concentration. You pulse around his fingers, and he hums, licking your sweat-stained skin.
You find your release among a string of ragged gasps, and he watches in awe, thumb dragging it out until you're shuddering from oversensitivity.
"O-Okay!" You tap his shoulder repeatedly, the overstimulation becoming achy. "Okay! That's enough!" He pulls his hand back, licking his fingers clean and humming with delight.
"Sorry." He murmurs, pressing an apologetic kiss to your forehead. "Got carried away." A soft chuckle follows as he nuzzles into your neck, all affection now that the heat of the moment has fizzled. His arms shift beneath you, scooping you into an embrace. "You okay? Was it too much?"
"I'm okay. Just a bit of a mess." You whisper, acknowledging the fact that his cum was still splattered all over your stomach. "Are you okay?"
"Understatement of the year." He snorts, pulling back to examine you. "You look good like this. All messed up for me."
"Messed up, huh?" You huff, rolling your eyes. "I'll try to take that as a compliment." You attempt to sit up, muscles still aching from what had just transpired. His hand immediately slips to the small of your back, guiding you with an instinctive steadiness.
"Slow and steady, you messy masterpiece."
"Mm. 'Messy masterpiece' that needs a shower."
"Hold still." He grabs his discarded shirt from the ground, wiping your stomach in slow, careful motions. Any trace of embarrassment has long vanished from him. If anything, he looks annoyingly proud. "Let me help you."
Piece by piece, he eases you back into your clothes, reassembling you with precision. He presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder before sliding your shirt back in place, fingertips brushing your ribcage.
"Feel like sneaking around with me again?" You already know the answer.
"To where?" He sighs, resigned.
"Showers?"
"...Okay."
Crawling back through the vents feels impossibly harder now. Even the Maze was easier than this tight, metal hell. Newt leads, muttering curses every time he bumps his knee.
Strangely, it's comforting to be led by him. You're not usually the 'follower' type, but with Newt, you don't mind. Your thoughts drifts back to the Glade: How easy it was to obey him, and how naturally he stepped into the role of being your compass.
You're lost in memory when the sharp clang of metal snaps you back. You're still in the vents, messily dressed and covered in sweat, searching for whichever room houses the showers.
"Are we lost?" You tease.
"We are absolutely not lost."
"You certain? Cause I'm pretty sure we just took 3 left turns."
"We are probably not lost."
"Great. Brilliant leadership."
"Keep talking, Love." He glances over his shoulder at you, unamused. "I'll leave you up here."
"You wouldn't."
"No, but I'd think about it."
"Oh, how evil."
Finally, a large metal grate below you opens up into the warm, echoing tile of the showers. Newt leans forward, measuring the distance, then, he drops. He hits the tiled floor with a muted thud, knees bending, and one hand touching the ground to steady himself before he straightens.
"Alright." He looks up at you, opening his arms and bracing his stance. "Jump."
"What? No!"
"I doubt your legs could handle the landing after everything we just did." He states so matter-of-factly, you could choke on the sheer simplicity of it.
"I'm fine!" Your face burns.
"Uh huh. Just jump."
"Newt, what about your leg? I'm not making you catch me."
"Oh, please." He scoffs. "I've carried sacks of potatoes heavier than you."
"How romantic."
"Ain't I just?" His arms stay open: Steady, patient, and infuriatingly certain.
"...Don't drop me."
"I won't."
"You'd better not." You take a breath, let it out slowly, then push off.
He catches you cleanly, like the idea of dropping you doesn't exist in any universe he inhibits. His arms slide under your back and knees with practiced ease. The impact barely nudges him, though his fingers tighten around you like instinct.
"Told you." His voice is low near your ear. "I've got you." He sets you gently on your feet, his hands lingering at your waist a moment longer than necessary. "You still alright?"
"Yeah." You nod, breath evening. "Just need to get clean."
"Right." He hums, dragging his gaze away from you to the line of showers, as if only just remembering the point of sneaking down here in the first place. "Clean. Right."
"Turn around."
"Turn around?" His head whips back to you at comical speeds. "Seriously? I've just seen every inch of you, and you still want me to turn around?"
"Yes." You deadpan, leaving no room for negotiation. He blinks once. Twice. It's a long, stunned moment where you can hear the gears turning in his head. Then finally, he exhales, the most dramatic, theatrical sigh known to man. He pivots away from you fully, both hands flying up to cover his eyes like a child playing hide-and-seek. "You're ridiculous." You mutter, stripping out of your clothes.
"You're ridiculous."
The water hisses to life, a sharp rush that quickly softens into steady warmth. The first touch of heat pulls a sigh out of you, muscles loosening and the ache in your trembling subsiding. For a moment, there's only the sound of water and the slow unwind of your own exhaustion. Then, there's a shuffle behind you. It's enough to snag your attention and bring your eyes gazing over your shoulder.
Newt is still there. Still facing away. Still standing exactly where you'd left him. His posture is absurdly stiff. He hasn't budged an inch. He's just waiting, for you, like the world would end if he broke whatever invisible rule he's decided to follow.
You almost feel guilty, but there's a thrill in it too: The thrill of a man who listens without hesitation. A man who follows your word without the need to understand it. A man who obeys, no matter how nonsensical the request may be.
"Newt, really?" You laugh, unable to help yourself. His fingers part just enough for him to squint through them, as if to check whether you're laughing at him or with him. You list your hand and curl 2 fingers, beckoning him forward. Oh, you can't resist him. "Come on."
The effect is immediate. A wide, boyish grin blooms across his face. He strips in hurried, clumsy motions, nearly tangling himself in his own trousers before stumbling into the steam with you.
Water droplets glitter along his eyelashes and his hair is plastered to his forehead in uneven strands. He looks good like this. Then again, he looks good all the time.
He lathers soap between his palms and works it into your hair, gentle fingers massaging your scalp. When he cradles your head beneath the showerhead again, he studies your face with earnest reverence.
What an unspoken blessing it is to be loved by a gentle man.
You pull him close, sliding your arms around his neck, drawing him into the warmth of you. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing, before he leans in. His mouth meets yours with such tenderness. There's no need for words in the small space between your lips. Everything you have yet to say is already known.
You love him.
He loves you.
It's a simple truth.
You only part when the water begins to cool, a faint shiver reminding you of the world outside yourselves. He rests his forehead against yours, clinging to the intimacy of this moment.
"We should probably get back before anyone notices we've gone." He whispers, though his hands remain exactly where they are.
"Probably." You agree, but neither of you moves. The world could collapse around you both, and you doubt either of you would notice for several long seconds.
Eventually, reluctantly, he forces himself to step back, hands trailing along your skin in a slow farewell as he helps you redress. There's not a single inch of you he hasn't seen, touched, or tasted tonight, and somehow that only makes the moment gentler.
He smooths the fabric of your shirt over your shoulders, giving your sleeve a soft tug, making sure you're put together before he even thinks about dressing himself.
When you're both decent, he crouches beneath the open vent, with linked fingers, creating a foothold to boost you up.
"Alright. Up you go."
You step into his waiting hands, and he lifts with a quiet grunt, guiding your balance as you pull yourself back into the narrow tunnel. The air is colder here.
You glance down, and he's looking at you. Of course he's looking at you. How could he ever pull his eyes away? His expression speaks volumes: He's never seen anything quite so sincere as you.
"Need help?" You offer.
"Nah." He shakes his head with that easy, lopsided smile. :You go on and get your rest, Love. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." You echo.
"And the next day," His smile widens. "And the next, and the next after that too. You can count on it."
His certainty settles in your soul.
You slip back into the darkness as quietly as you'd came, but this time, the night is different. This time, you carry the warmth of his hands, the taste of his kiss, and the memory of that devoted expression. You carry his phenomenal heart, and he carries yours.
You'll continue to carry his love with you: Tomorrow, the next day, and the day after that. You'll carry it in your heart as long as life allows. A love like this never fades away.
GENRE: Fluff, slight comedy, slow burn, yearning, reader confesses her feelings for Newt, kissing. (TW! Depression and suicidal Newt, and slight misogyny and minimum angst)
AUTHORS NOTE: Finally I finished this after writing for dayss. Here's part 2 of anyone who's been asking! Thank you for the support and hope you enjoy this! I personally loved this one myself. (Btw this isn't proofread so feel free to correct any grammar errors or misspellings! )
WORD COUNT: 2,6k
part 1
It has been a while since you were brought to the glade, ten months to be exact. In the first few days of staying you thought— well since I'm the only girl here they must be continuing to send other girls in here along with me.
Boy you were wrong
A month passed. Then a month became two months. Then five. Months and months passed and yet they still continued to send boys, not a girl insight except for me.
Great. You thought.
I'm stuck here with a bunch of stinky, sexist, misogynistic–
Suddenly your thoughts about reminiscing and mourning the chance of another girl being ever brought again were interrupted by someone clearing his throat bringing you back to the present.
"You know just because they let you share the hut with the superior leaders doesn't mean you have to hog the damn front door." Gally scoffed, impatient.
You looked up confused only then to realize that you were infact sitting by the front door, in the way. You quickly stood up to the side giving him space to walk through.
"Alright alright, no need to be a shank about it.." you mumbled mostly to yourself which you guessed he heard since he gave you cold glare.
If looks could kill, you surely would be dead right now.
Gally got in, rummaging under Minho's bed which would be where Minho kept all of his personal weapons.
"Hey those are Minho's." You stated as a matter of fact.
"What do you think?" Gally jeered.
"Did you ask permission?" You ask immediately regretting the question.
"Obviously." Gally scoffed after taking a bunch of different kinds of weapons strutting to the door quickly almost bumping into Newt coming in.
Rude. You rolled your eyes.
Of course Minho asked Gally to get them for him they were surprisingly close friends, they were running today after all. Minho must have forgotten to get weapons in case of any nasty grievers.
You sat down in your not so comfy bed letting out a sigh, as Newt got in looking confused.
"What was all that about?" Newt asked letting out a chuckle at the thought of Gally's annoyed face which he came past earlier.
Gally's annoyed face always made him laugh even in serious situations. It was a bit cruel really; one time on a meeting even if it was a serious crisis on their hands— he just had one look of Gally's annoyed disagreeing face and he'd had to hold a giggle.
"Typical arrogant Gally." You mumble sarcastically letting out a huff.
"Hey, Gally might have an attitude he's not all that. He's just.."
He paused trying to find a nice and respectful word.
"Easily pissed."
You nod. Newt noticed your sulky face.
"Don't worry Daisy, he'll come around." Newt said reassuringly. Patting your back.
"I know it's just.. Being the only girl here is annoying, and honestly the worst. I hate it. Having to worry about getting harassed and getting disrespected all the time. Them thinking that I can't do stuff just because I'm a girl. Having to worry about myself every time I do something as simple as bathing. Having no privacy at all! I hate it all."
"I know this is all the way it is because you've all been alone for years but it's still sucks you know? I don't want to have to keep living everyday being conscious all the time.." You sighed.
Newt was quiet. He knew you were right. He can't exactly make you look at the brighter side and reassure you it was not bad at all. After all what would he know? He didn't have to experience all that.
Newt wrapped his arms around you resting his head on yours as he caressed your back. You hugged him back sighing. You really needed that.
"Don't worry I'm always here for you."
Newt whispered in your ear, his hot breath gave you shivers.
Suddenly someone cleared their throat.
Both of you jumped back and away from each other blushing with embarrassment.
"Sorry to interrupt lovebirds, but we need you Newt for the meeting in five minutes, it's a private matter. The run on the maze can do after the meeting" Alby ordered.
"Oh we're not—" both of you rambled at the same time blushing furiously. God why did you have to be so pale?? You thought to yourself feeling your warm cheeks.
"Go on, I'll follow in a while. Go get the others." Alby motioned to the door.
Newt looked at you pressing his lips together with an awkward smile as he quickly went out the door.
"He likes you, you know?" Alby said sitting beside you after Newt went away.
"I hope so, we've been pretty close for the past months, plus he's my bestfriend–" You mention only to be cut off by Alby.
"No not that, daisy I mean he really likes you." Stated Alby.
I bit my lip not really fully convinced.
"I like him. A lot. But I'm not sure he feels the same way about me Alby." You pause.
"It's like every time I try to show my feelings or hint him something he'd avoid me or immediately change the topic and it always gets awkward, it's like he's scared of me or something I dunno" You shrug sighing.
Alby shook his head and let out a snicker, grinning.
"I'm glad my rejection amuses you." You said sarcastically.
"You don't really get it do you?" Alby said with a wide close–mouthed smile.
"Get what?" You asked confused.
"You'll find out." Alby smiled sighing.
"Although this is not the reason I came to talk to you alone." Alby paused.
"You see.." a deep breath. "Newt has some mental issues. He's been here three years like some of us but he has it the worst. It got so bad that.. that he tried to end his life jumping on the top of the maze. Thankfully though, Minho found him and saved his life." Alby looked at you with a sad smile.
"My point is, though he's been pretty unstable, but ever since you came along in his life he's been better.
Trust me I've known Newt for a long time and I've never seen him this happy. I'm here telling you he really likes you.." Alby said seriously.
....................
It's been three days. Three days since Alby told you. And three days since Minho had gone missing ever since the run in the maze. Minho apparently got separated from the group. They came back all in pieces except for Minho has been missing. For exactly three days now. And everyone has already decided he was dead. Everyone grieved Minho. Gally was already the one to write Minho's name on the wall of the maze the next day along with the other people who didn't come back from the maze.
But nobody took it worse than Newt.
Again it's been three days. Three days since Newt last talked to you. Ever since he's been ignoring you and avoiding everyone, putting off his works. Alby noticed it, deciding to give him a break to let him grieve Minho's death since Minho and Newt have been best friends for a long time.
Three days it has been and Newt hasn't said a single word to you.
You were laying in your not–so comfortable bed at night deep in thoughts. It was ironic really, missing someone who slept in the same hut as you— well it was better off than sleeping with the other boys outside. Ever since Minho there'd been only three person who slept in the hut who were Alby and Newt.
You turned around to face him only to see his silluete in the dark facing the opposite way. Ever since 'Minho's death' you couldn't help to think about what Alby told you and that wasn't helping at all with the situation. You couldn't help but worry for Newt yet every time you try to be there for him he would push you away. You assumed that's what he needed— space. So you gave it to him.
But nights like this only made you miss him even more. So every night, just like this you stare at his silhouette at night peacefully sleeping until your eyes felt too heavy to be kept open and you drift away to sleep.
.....................................
You awoke to the sound of thunder and people noisily crowded into the hut barely even able to fit, the smell of rain filling your nostrils. You sat upright immediately confused and still half–asleep.
"What the hell is going on?!" you exclaimed. Your eyes falling on Alby.
"There's a storm! There are only a few shelters to keep us dry!" Alby shouted admists the thunder and the wind, the sound of the rain hitting the ground.
You looked around instinctively looking for a certain blond.
"Where's Newt?!" You yelled at Gally who was trying to keep the roof from flying away.
"Can't you see I'm busy?! Go use your eyes!" Gally sneered loudly.
You scoffed double–checking, looking around the cramped hut with no sign of a certain blond around. You got out of bed making your way through the crowded room of boys to check more thoroughly which being short didn't help since occasionally a boy would bump into you and one even elbowed you on your face. Ouch.
By the minute you got even more worried and worried.
"Alby I cant find newt!" You yelled looking at alby with a worried expression.
"Did you double–check?!" Alby shouted back his voice seemed distressed.
"I triple–checked! He's not here!" You shouted back. You we're feeling more anxious minute by minute.
When Alby didn't reply immediately with a— 'that's not so good' type of face. Suddenly all your worst scenario's seem to finally reach your anxious brain.
"You don't think—" you breathed, your voice cut out by Alby himself.
"DAISY GO!" Alby shouted.
You made your way through the crowd pushing people where you finally got out running as fast as you can to the maze— your body getting soaked by the rain your heart beating so fast, adrenaline rushing through your veins. When you finally got by the maze you looked up squinting your eyes through the darkness and the rain. There was certainly no silhouette of a boy.
Fuck..
Suddenly a thought came.
The watchtower.
You and Newt spend most of your time there— it was a hassle to climb the long set of stairs but it was worth it because that's the only place where both of you could talk peacefully without some creepy shank flirting with you. You'd spend time together there, gazing from above where both of you could see the whole glade; the surrounding stone walls, the garden, the people, and the fresh breeze brushing your hair and filling your lungs making you relax. And most importantly you loved it because it was private.
it was the tallest building in the glade except the maze.
After realizing you ran as fast as you could pushing yourself as you looked up finding the boy above on the edge of the tower.
You climbed as fast as you can, the stairs were made of bamboo which made it slippery during rainy days where you could barely have a grip of it your hand almost sleeping occasionally— but you didn't care.
Your legs were tired and burning from running fast and climbing, gravity was against you, your heart was pounding in your chest adrenaline rushing through your veins, your vision was a blur your eyes getting soaked from the rain.
Finally what seemed like forever you got on top shoving newt away just about he was about to jump. At this point you were crying having a hard time to breath— it felt like your airways were shrinking. Suddenly you felt a burning rage rushing through you.
"What the hell Newt?!" You yelled through the rumble of lighting and wind.
Newt looked at you his eyes widening shivering from the cold air, completely soaked. He stood there freezed as you walked closer to him seeing him clearly. It was not obvious because of the rain but up close you could see him, his eyes red and puffy from crying.
"Daisy? What are you—" he stumbled clearly caught off guard, his voice was cracking.
Rage, stress, and specially frustration boiled through your blood. And everyone knew especially Gally, that was not a good combination for you.
Before he could finish his sentence you slapped him as hard as you could letting your frustration out— you couldn't stop crying. Newt widened his eyes not expecting you to slap him his left cheek was slightly pink from your slap. He held a hand against his cheek rubbing it. Ouch
"What the hell were you thinking?! You think suicide will fix this?! Guess what killing yourself will not bring Minho back! It's not just you, EVERYONE has had a hard time since Minho died making things in the glade more difficult especially to the runners! Killing yourself will only make the situation worse— incase you forgot you are second in command! So don't be selfish just because you feel awful! Everyone fucking does!" I scolded running out of breath, infuriated. Streams of frustrated tears were running down my cheeks.
Newt furrowed his brows his breathing also heavy his eyes filled with tears. "What, you think I don't know that!?" He cried.
"What do I have to live for?! We've been here three years! Three fucking years! Minho's has had every single inch of the maze maped out, and not a single escape chance! We've been living every single day the same, repeating over and over! People have have false hope of escaping but deep down we all know we're all gonna rot in here!" Newt confessed out of breath— he was shaking.
"What's there to live for? All of this! We don't even know our own identity! There's no purpose of what we do! There's no one left who cares! Guess what, Minho was the only thing I have left close as family and they've all moved on like Minho didn't exist. No one would ever give a damn about me!" Newt cried his voiced cracked.
but I do. I care about you. You thought.
"I—" You started then he cut you off.
"Don't even try to make this any better because you know deep down I'm right." He said backing away to the edge of the tower.
No no no no no.. You can't lose him. fuck. He's the only one you had, the only one who helped you keep it together and not go into insanity.
The only one you've been living every single day for.
You can't lose your reason to live.
You didn't know what to say. Suddenly you did the only thought that came to mind. You cupped his face with both of your damp hands that had been freezing for the last couple of minutes, brushing his cheeks with your thumbs.
He looked down at you furrowing his brows, his eyes were restless and swollen from crying and then they met yours. You breathed out wiping his wet lower lip with your thumb. Then you tiptoed and pulled him close kissing him.
At first he froze, but then he kissed you back aggressively, a hand wrapping around your waist pulling you closer and the other tucks your damp hair behind your ear away from your face running his hand through your wet hair.
The kiss was deep and aggressive yet passionate, both of you letting out your pent up frustration and feelings for the past three days.
You pulled away leaning your forehead against his looking at him in his deep brown eyes.
"I love you.." you breathed out, "you're my reason to live.. please don't ever leave me.." you whispered pleading to him as the rain poured.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: hello this is my first ever story, whilst this is not really a fanfic, this is just a story I made for Pride month (Happy pride!!) English is not my first language so their may be some grammatical errors ^^; anyways enjoy!!
SIDE NOTE!!! The religions mentioned in this were purely used for metaphors and NOT discrimination, I am not, in any way disrespecting it nor making fun of it, it is purely just for metaphors I hope you understand.
WORD COUNT: 1, 844k
TW: Homophobia, internalized Homophobia
I remember when I saw the devil for the first time
He looked at me with red eyes and screamed at me with words that I couldn't comprehend, I remembered how my brothers and sisters, some were only but a child, 9 or 10 at max, some were teens, just entering into adolescence. They surrounded him, looking at him with confusion, as if they couldn't fully grasp the situation in their heads.
But I did, and I was terrified, I couldn't believe that, my friend would be possessed by the devil.
I used to remember, when we had just entered the age where our bodies started to change, and how we were all sitted in a classroom that smelled of wood and pine, a pastor telling a story from the Bible, they were about 12 of us in there, all boys, as the girls were in a separate part of the building, it was a sunny day at that time.
I remembered that my honeydew eyes would linger on him, Allen, he had short blonde hair, and blue eyes, and he was wearing a white uniform, and even in his adolescences, he would attract many girls to him, it was only natural, while he wasn't really model handsome, he was more than average.
When the pastor walked past us, as we were sitted next to each other and there was a gap between us, I sneakily took a glance at him, his ocean eyes followed the pastors movements for a moment, before his eyes landed on me, and I involuntarily flinched and looked away hastily.
I didn't really know why I was so nervous, perhaps I was just intimidated by him considering he is one the most popular boy in the building.
After the class, he approached me in the halls,
"Do you remember what chapter it was?" He asked of me, and for a moment, I was stunned, he asked me? Out of all the boys in the class?
I stammered, "I think it was 1 Peter 4:8, I'm pretty sure"
"Oh I see" he mumbled,
"See you around then" I retreated quickly but I stopped as he called out to me.
"I wasn't done talking to you, you know" he grinned, an amused one.
"I was actually gonna ask if you wanna go study together, since I like the company" he said, "...if you don't mind, of course"
I blinked at him, staring at him as if in a trance, "sure, sure I can do that"
"Great" he smiled, the type where it reached his eyes.
And ever since that moment, he always stuck around, we were practically tied by the hip, and as we grew together, bonded more, there was this heat in me, that I couldn't quite get, like something insatiable that only resurfaced when I was only with him.
I couldn't understand why, I couldn't understand why that every night, I always thought of him, how I felt the rising tension within me every breath I take, like I felt every inch of him, moving, whispering into my ear until I finally rode high.
It was shameful, vile, disgusting of me to even think about that, think about such impure fantasies. I vowed to restrain myself as much as possible, perhaps even the day I die.
But that vow didn't last long, and I wish I could've kept it longer.
The vow I took broke when we were outside, beneath an apple tree near the walls of the building, a place where the children can run and play, laundry held up to dry in the wind.
We were sitted in the grass, surrounded by books, I was explaining something to him, I couldn't quite remember what it was. But I remembered that when I turned, I saw his eyes looking at me, as if he was mesmerized by something.
"Hey, are you even listening? I'm explaining something to you and you aren't even—"
"Have you ever kissed someone before?" He asked me abruptly.
"What? No, we're not even allowed to" I replied, and he groaned,
"Whats the difference? Its not like a simple kiss wouldn't make us not virgins anymore"
I scrambled, covering his mouth and whispered scoldingly "Hey, don't say that, the sisters will hear you"
He tugged at my hand, yanking it away from him, "so what if they hear me? Its not like they won't do anything to me"
"Allen" I said firmly, with a stern face.
He looked to the side, visibly displeased and annoyed, huffing as he tucked his knees to his chest.
"Fine I just asked a question"
We stayed silent for moment, I was trying to get back to studying but I couldn't because of the uncomfortable silence that was gnawing from the inside.
"Why, why did you even ask that?" I inquired, quietly, covering my face with my book that I didn't know the reason why. I just wanted to.
After a moment, he looked at me, but not in the way that he would normally would, no, he looked at me with something akin to a child expecting something, like a gift of some sort.
"Well" he mused, stretching his legs, "I was just curious"
I eyed him, then my eyes lingered on his lip, and that familiar tension rose within me, "well, I did wonder what it would feel"
This is wrong
"To.."
Stop talking
"Kiss someone"
STOP!
I blinked, like I was under a spell and I had broken free from it, then I glanced at him, and I suddenly felt light headed.
"Nevermind, pretend I didn't–"
It all happened in a flash, Allen's lips, collided with mine, our faces covered by a book, it all felt so surreal
So raw
So exciting
So...
Wrong.
And that was it, the first sign of the devil. I pushed him away, I didn't say anything, I just took my books and ran. I didn't know where, I just wanted to get away from him, the devil.
After that, I confessed my sins to the father, asking for forgiveness, and cleanse of my wretched sins and help my friend who has been possessed by Satan himself and lead him a path of righteousness.
I remembered his face, tied to a bed, screaming, eyes blood red, the chants of prayers surrounding him, to cast out the demon residing within him, he looked at me, with bared teeth as he trashed around, screaming a language that sounded demonic, my trembling lips sounding a prayer to God to save him, and seek God's mercy.
After hours of shouting, praying, he finally stopped, he lay there, looking limp and pale, and I thought he was finally saved and approached to hug him, but he screeched at me, saying I should die, and I realised, that my friend, my dear Allen, has grown horns and a tail.
"There is no saving him" the pastor said
I looked down, "no, no, there has to be another way" I trembled, my voice raw and worn after hours of praying.
"I'm sorry, my child" the pastor told me, and walked out, I followed him but as I was about to step into the threshold
"Eliot" a voice called out, it sounded demonic, like someone was speaking through him,
"Eliot" he called again, and I knew that the devil was tempting me, testing my faith.
"Go away, demon" I said, only looking forward as I stepped out and closed the door with a loud bang.
Since then, I never saw him, the next day I went to the room he was in and he was gone, the pastor said he sent Allen to a special place where he could truly be saved by the grace of God, and sighed of relief.
He said Allen would come back, but winters and springs came, and he did not come back.
And now, I only had my faith, and my consciousness. Sometimes I would wonder how he was, perhaps the devil had taken him, maybe his soul is floating around, seeking redemption.
I vowed to myself, a vow that I could keep, that I, would never fall into temptation again.
Never.
Another winter fell upon us, the month of Jesus, midnight was upon us and the church still glowed a warm light, although empty, it still carried the warmth of other people's prayers. The bristles of my broom against the marbled floor echoed in the vast space, I was in the walkway, the center of the church.
Suddenly, the main door creaked open, and I was startled from my mindless sweeping.
I turned, looking up "Sorry the church is not open.."
..Tonight" my words fell silent, as I took in a familiar figure, a sharp tail behind him and horns on his head.
I dropped my broom, trembling as I backed away, "thats not possible..." I mumbled.
"Devils shouldn't be here..."
Shakily, I held out my small cross, "back, demon, go back to where you came" I shouted, but it kept walking, and I began to falter.
"You- you have strayed from the Lords light.." I tripped as I said that
"Pray for forgiveness and mercy and God will bless you once more" my back hit the altar, a statue of Jesus behind me carved in wood.
"Go, go away"
My knees weakened and I could no longer stand.
"Leave, please"
My legs hit the ground, my hand shakily holding my cross.
The demon kneeled before me, and I closed my eyes.
"Just go"
"Eliot" a voice called, it was clear, soft, and undeniably warm.
I opened my eyes, to see not red eyes, but blue ones, clear, and calming like the ocean.
It wasn't the devil, it was Allen, my dearest companion.
"Allen?"
He stared at me, then his face crinkled into a soft smile "Do I still look possessed to you?"
His hand came to my face, to brush off the tears that I wasn't aware of.
He looked, good, he grew into his features quite well, he didn't have horns, or a tail, just him. Allen
My Allen.
There was a story in the Bible, about the first two humans, Adam and Eve, we all know how it goes, Adam and Eve were tempted by the Devil to eat the apple, the fruit of knowledge. They were casted out from the Garden of Eden, and from that day on, every human that came into existence were tainted by their sins.
Adam was the one who ate the apple first, then Eve followed suit.
If I had also bitten the apple back then, maybe, we could've been casted out together.
I stared at him for a long while, stared at the cross in my hand, and leaned in, and bit the apple that has waited for me.
I felt warm, like a surge of pleasant energy, the apple tasted sweet, and warm, and God didn't seem to punish me for it.
The gate of the garden seemed to open on itself, and finally, at Long last, we could be sinners together.
End
AUTHOR'S NOTES: well, that was that I hope you enjoyed it, it took all of mh creative juices to make this mediocre masterpiece, if there's any feedback and tips that you would like to give please do so in the comments!!
Just to let you all know I'm writing part 2 of Daisy my Newt fanfic, and I was wondering if you would like 2k words worth of fluff because I always seem to past 1k with just fluff. It's really important to me because I'm building the plot, Newt's feelings, and most importantly SLOWBURN. (You get to kiss newt in this part 🤭🤭) I have a really good plot idea but it would take about 2k words with fluff so if anyone would be up for that please let me know!🙏
GENRE: Fluff, a little comedy, caring sarcastic Newt.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first ever fanfic so bare with me guys. Also english isn't my first language so let me know if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings. :)
WORD COUNT: 1,372k
Part 2
It was…complicated to say the least. Newt and you were only just best friends.
But it was obvious you both liked each other, especially Newt—both of you knew it. Everybody knew it. It was practically the Elephant in the room.
But neither of you really had spoken about it nor encouraged it.
It was also valid for Newt to catch feelings; imagine being stuck in the Glade, nowhere to escape for three years having not seen a girl... that is until he met you.
He could never forget the day he met you. The first day of april in the middle of spring when flowers had just been starting to bloom, wild daisies scattered across the vibrant green grass.
As second in command, his job was to check on the box for weekly supplies and also to check on the person who was sent per month.
Just as usual after hearing the alarm earlier, which signals that the box is about to arrive in thirty minutes,
he sits beside the center of the Glade where a huge metal box is supposed to appear.
After a while of waiting the box arrives and he opens it plunging down seeing an odd-looking long haired man facing down.
He plunged down inside the huge metal box. The boys scattered around with curiousity for their new company. Newt went to turn around the unconscious guy to face him his eyes widening with a hint of confusion and surprise.
"It's a... girl??" Newt pondered.
The atmosphere suddenly became busy and loud, with noise of the boys chatting and talking all around words and noises getting all scrambled to be even properly heard.
"A girl?!"
"I've got dibs!"
"Is she cute??"
"How old is she?"
The boys went crazy even two of them went down on the box to get a closer look at the girl one of them tried to touch her, Newt glared at the gal trying to tell them off yet no one seemed to hear Newt, all the boys were ignoring him—
Newt was internally panicking, no one seemed to hear him out and he didn't quite know what to do for he was still in shock processing when suddenly Alby came by.
"Hey what the hell is going on?!" Alby yelled clearly out of patience and irritated.
Newt was glad that Ably had arrived to sort out the chaos, all of the Gladers respected and definitely feared Alby more than they feared Newt.
Alby ordered Newt to bring the new greenie into a hut so they could give you more privacy and away from all the chaos.
He lay you down cautiously on the bed, carefully not to wake you up— clearly you were still unconscious. Although he did try to respect your boundaries.. he couldn't help it, he couldn't take his eyes off you gazing at your face studying it like it was nothing like he haf seen before.
Your long lashes, the way strands of hair fell down your face, and your pouty plump lips.
You were beautiful..
After a while of staring at you he found himself drifting off to sleep on the chair in front of you.
After what seemed to be like hours he woke up without your presence. He sat up opening the wooden door having a look at the setting sun.
It has been hours and he doesn't know where the greenie is.
Shit.. he thought.
Alby was gonna kill him if he found out he lost the girl. He looked for a long time asking people here and there.
Minho and Ben had no idea, apparently they've been drinking Gally's drink all afternoon which explains why they are probably both stoned. Newt scoffed, so much for only drinking on bonfire celebrations.
Newt then went on and asked Gally who wouldn't come out of his hut. He was quite irritated and annoyed at the mention of the girl.
"I don't know, and I don't care where that girl is! She's lucky she's a girl or else I would've put sense into her!" Gally shouted,
still not bothering to open the door.
Newt caught a glimpse of him by a gap of the wooden door seeing a nasty piece of a black eye on Gally, which he suspected that it was probably from the greenie. There was clearly no point of talking to him seeing how annoyed he already is.
After a while of looking he started to get even more worried.
Fuck. What if some of the boys took advantage of her or worse what if she had gone out to the maze and got stinged by a Griever?!
Eventually after asking for a while he decided to talk to Alby deciding to face him anxiously waiting at his door.Alby explained that he had taken care of the girl and explained everything to her.
Although at first of course she was in shock basically hitting and throwing stuff at anyone.
Gally even tried to get closer to explain— which he might have said something to offend the girl along the lines of; overacting and paranoid.. which would probably explain his black eye... ouch.
Well suspicions confirmed.
Newt went on a walk after the talk with Alby wanting to clear his mind especially about everything that has been happening.. why would they send a girl? It doesn't make sense..
His thoughts were interrupted hearing someone humming a melody.
He looked over and there she was perched up on the grass resting in the corner by the tree for shade.
Wild daisies scattered around while you were lost in thoughts staring at them.Newt decidedly went in your direction.
"Hey there you are." Newt said.
"Hi." You said, lost in thought, not even bothering to look his way.
Newt pressed his lips in an awkward smile trying to be welcoming and friendly, after all you were the first girl to ever enter the Glade after three miserable years. Might as well make the most of it and be friendly.
"Can I sit here?" Newt asked,
you simply nod still lost in thought, still processing information. Newt sits next to you giving you enough space.
After a while of awkward silence Newt speaks up.
"So.. I see you got along with our friend Gally pretty well huh?" Newt teases grinning.
"Who?" You asked confused.
"You know, Gally??" Newt said, i raised an eyebrow not really following.
"You know, blondie, skinny boy who has pageant worthy eyebrows??" Newt said sarcastically.
You went red remembering the guy punched.
"Although you didn't have to give him a matching purple eyeshadow black eye." Newt quoted with his fingers clearly amused at your flustered state.
"I gave him a black eye..?" You asked, embarrassed, feeling guilty.
"I'm sorry I was confused and scared and I couldn't remember anything and I didn't know what I was–" Newt cut you off.
"Hey, don't blame yourself, this stuff happens all the time we get a new person every month and we all go through it. You'll be alright don't worry." Newt comforts you. Damn. Newt thought being used to people coming up every month has him gotten used to this. Maybe he was being a little bit insensitive making jokes.
"Why can't I remember anything? Who am I? I don't even know my name.." You sigh already knowing that they don't know anything, a million questions overwhelming your brain with very few answers you can only get. Newt gives you a faint smile tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"It'll be alright..." Newt muttered pausing at the absence of your name. He looked around, suddenly the daisies around the both of you seemed to suddenly caught his eye as he picked a daisy cupping your face as his other hand tucks the daisy behind your ear.
God..
The flower complimented your beautiful face. You looked at him suddenly realizing he was closer to you. You realize— he was.. beautiful. His chocolate brown eyes gazing at you, stands of his blond hair framing his face.
"Daisy.." Newt whispered.
"What?" You whispered back— you didn't even know why both of you were whispering.
