hiii <333
I came across your 'subspace' newtmas dialogue and I was instantly enamoured by your work!
I was wondering if maybe you could write something smutty with a subby!Thomas (from Maze Runner) where reader is the only female in the Glade (and was kind of one of the first to be brought there) and he's just like following her around like a lost puppy and she finds him totally endearing so she acts literally like the most sweet and loving girl in the world to him (to the others she's more like a kind "okay, I knwo you exist, kiss kiss, now fuck off /affectionately).
So one day Thomas just kind of randomly wakes up in the middle of the night all needy and whiny because he had a very explicit wet dream but he woke up before he could finish :(
And he's all whiny and subby while clinging to reader and begging her to please make it better? (maybe with Thomas having a few orgasms but still being hard inside her because she just feels so good) and reader being all sweet, cooing and praising him for being the best boy while Thomas' just a melted puddle in her arms.
hi darling! thank you so much for your support, you're so kind <3
it's difficult for thomas to openly admit that he's in need of help, that he's incapable of solving a predicament on his own, but with a tail tucked in between his legs, he rolls over, face stamping into your ribcage. that's the first thing you feel, and then it's the firm dick against your thigh, announcing its appearance through the damp patch in his slacks.
you hide your eyes under a crooked arm, chest still heavy with fatigue as fingers curl into your shirt, twisting the worn fabric over trembling knuckles. "hey," you whisper through the morning air, and his curls are matted with sweat when you find them. "what's the matter, huh?"
he's wordless in his response, nose finding a slot between two ribs when he rolls over onto his belly. his breath is hot against your exposed navel, and you huff. "come up here, tommy, c'mere."
he scrambles, clammy palms smearing against your hips, and your own cradle his scruffy jaw, drawing him in close to seal a kiss over a mole. "get your dick out, tommy," you try to keep the laughter in your tone to a minimum, but it still seeps through.
the ties on his pants are too taught, and his forehead falls against your collarbone as he tries harder to undo it, baritone grumbling with despondency. "you're fine, sweetheart," you coo, working your hands around the waistband of your shorts so you can shimmy them down your thighs. "take a deep breath and try again, you've got it."
thomas shuffles awkwardly, elbow knocking into the fatty innards of your thigh, and finally his cock is free, and searching hopelessly for the slick slot between your thighs. he finds it, and nearly splits you with the forceful shove of it. he's so close, his pre lubrication enough, and he swears he sees stars behind the eyelids he allows to slip over his tired eyes. "oh god," are the first words of the night, and his enraptured face slots under your jaw.
your legs fall further open, thighs tensing when the head of his cock kisses against your cervix, thomas anxious to shove every last inch of his aching dick into your cunt. it takes one, two, and three thrusts until his abdomen tightens above yours, muscles seizing when he cums. his spend floods against your cervix, tacky, thick and warm inside you, pubic bone brushing against your under-stimulated clit when he shifts. "sorry, sorry," he pants against the hollow of your throat, trying to peel himself away from your body.
"no, baby, it's okay," you assure, aiding him in finding your pussy again once he's slipped out. it's left coated with the viscous white, and you whine yourself when the head of it accidentally shoves against your clit.
you roll your hips once he's found the weepy hole again, adjusting to the girth again, and grunting when he drops his weight back onto you. "you can stay here for a sec, okay?" you pant, carding your fingers through the damp hair at the back of his neck. "just give you a minute to let your head settle down a bit, i've got you."
"you didn't even cum," he grouses against your cheek, and you hum.
"i know," you murmur, tightening your fingers around his curls. "you can help me after you've slept a little longer, hm? just stay here with me for right now. you've been a good boy, sweetheart, just sleep."
If you can Do if you have time can you do headcanon for like thomas or alexander daughter says she has a boyfriend like would they be overprotective or would they be chill (୨୧•͈ᴗ•͈)◞ᵗʱᵃᵑᵏઽ* (sorry for any spelling mistakes)
Thomas:
Thomas would be chill. He had a part in raising his daughter to be intelligent and think for herself.
However, he also raised her to take no shit so if boyfriend fucks up he’ll let her handle it but is also ready to fuck shit up if she needs back up.
Alex:
Alex is the overprotective one. He remembers exactly what he was like at her age and is not about to have someone pull those same tricks on her that he pulled.
But - his daughter would also inherit his stubbornness so fights between them would be of epic proportions. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eliza had back up dinnerware because plates had been thrown before.
Thomas Price, known simply as ‘Tommy’, is no stranger to the spotlight Hollywood has offered to him in the recent years. From model to actor, we caught up with Prometheus’ latest teen heartthrob and asked him all the important questions (Sorry girls!, girlfriend questions were off the table.)
Who is your celebrity crush?
“I should have known this was going to be the first question. Why wouldn’t it be? Anyways, there’s a lot of options here, you know? And I know what you all want me to say, but, I mean have you seen Cheyenne Stewart? I’m serious. Have you seen her? I’ve been looking for her and she like, runs away from me. Well, the point is she’s one of them. That woman is gorgeous. But I’m not done! There’s, uh, Savannah Miller who’s got the whole former scene girl, rock chick thing going for her. I wonder if her hair stains her sheets, but, actually scratch that I know who my number one celebrity crush is. Joseph Naor. Don’t remember him? It’ll come to you. You just gotta love that white boy who’s half asleep and starving to death look.”
Who do you believe will be the next one cancelled?
“Why are you asking me this? [Redacted] if I know. I barely know what I want for breakfast. As long as it’s not me I don’t care who’s next. They should have worked harder.. for science though, how many people have said Amir Hassan? Asking for a friend.”
Who would you love to work with?
“Everyone. I’d want to work with anyone who would have me. Everyone around is so [Redacted] talented, it’s insane. If I had to pick someone though it would probably be Eila Love It—Levitt, whatever. Just imagine the pranks I’d pull on her while on set, and, don’t let her fool you either. She’d love to work with me too but is too afraid to admit it.”
What do you think your reputation is like?
“If I’m being honest with you I don’t think I’m taken very seriously, and that’s entirely my fault and I am 100% okay with that. I like to have fun and get a little crazy, which some people might not like. That’s their fault though, you know? I can’t make someone like me, no matter how perfect I am and how obviously blind they are. Maybe they expect something different— something like my grandmother. But I’m not like her and she’s not me and I’m not her. Whatever reputation I may have out there to some people, everyone’s entitled to their wrong opinion.”
Have you created any enemies within Prometheus?
“Nope. Not yet. It must be my amazing personality. I make it virtually impossible for someone to hate me.”
How about any friends?
I think everyone knows I get along with basically everyone. But if you must know, I’m very fond of Ingrid Hawkins. She’s the coolest chick around, I swear. Did you hear her script got picked up? You should be interviewing her, not me. Besides her, Ruby’s [Torrance] kind of cool. There’s more to her than meets the eye. Savannah, like I said, is probably the second coolest girl I know. Eila is my friend she just doesn’t know it.”
If you were cancelled, what would you like your cancellation to look like?
"I’d want it to be big. Everyone’s invited of course, I’ll send out the invitations myself. I don’t know any specifics of it, as far as the actual cancellation goes, but I wouldn’t want to see people cry. When my time comes, my time comes. Simple as that. Everyone would be wearing hoodies with my face on it and uh, I don’t know, celebrating my life with a cake or something.”
hi lovely! i was just wondering if you still wrote for poly!newtmas!! im obsessed with your blurbs with them and im currently on a maze runner kick
if you do, could i request poly!newtmas and reader who slips into subspace and one of them is so confused but the other kinda guides them through iy and explains it if that makes sense? kinda shows them how to care for her and shes just all subby and content at the attention / still all whiney (maybe also some mean!dom & soft!dom pairing)
arg this is so late, i'm so sorry bug - also i didn't really do mean!dom at all, just because i feel like they'd both be so soft in this situation :(
it's an uncommon sensation; not unknown, but still foreign enough for discomfort to pluck at your heartstrings until fear is pinpricking in your chest. the blade of grasp pinched between your fingers snaps when you tug too hard, and tears are already welling up, threatening their downfall. a warm hand encircles your pair, and your gaze jumps up to the set of males in front of you. "you alright?"
you lick over drying lips, folding your knees against your chest and discarding the broken weed. "i think so."
thomas passes a glance over newt at his right, clapping his palms awkwardly to fill the silence. "you want to tell us what you're thinking about?"
you shrug, choosing to pick at a fraying shoe lace. "just about last night. i feel like i can't really think straight since i woke up. it's like.." you pause when newt retracts his hand. "it's like i'm kind of walking through water or something. i don't remember what that feels like, but i think it's something like that... but in my head."
newt rakes a worried hand through his hair, dropping his weight back onto his arms behind him. "i think we were too hard on you last night, love." he shares a look with his partner. "do you think so too?"
your bottom lip spills out and you shake your head. "i liked it."
newt nods. "think you're still a little subby, princess. that's all."
you look up through your lashes, but thomas beats you to the punch. "what's that?"
newt starts up. "well, when we, or one of us, take control of the situation in the bedroom, and we're more dominant, you tend to submit. does that part make sense?"
you both confirm with a silent nod.
"well, when you're put in a mindset like that, sometimes it lingers. it stays with you outside of the bedroom when we don't properly bring you out of that mindset and bring you back to our day-to-day dynamic. the dynamic where we all feel like equals and no one is dominant over the other." he properly explains, and thomas nods along.
"so, tommy, you have to make sure to give her proper aftercare, yeah?" the brit explains, now drawing a soft hand across your knee. "otherwise she's still going to be stuck in that mindset. like now."
"i'm sorry," you purl through another wave of warning tears. "i'm sorry. i didn't really mean to do this."
thomas shakes his head. "hey, hey, it's my fault. it's our fault, we forgot to take better care of you, okay? we're still learning, and i promise we'll get better with it."
newt cuts in. "first things first, mate." he snorts at his boyfriend. "tell us what you need, darling. then we can move on from there."
you know that feeling when you’re at a rave and the music keeps building up to that inevitable beat drop? everyone’s hyped and ready for it, hands in the air and feet ready to jump at any second. that’s what it’s like. ingrid makes the beat drop in tommy’s heart (he’s said this line plenty of times). the girl is the coolest chick in tommy’s book, and that’s saying a lot from the guy who generally avoids reading unless 💯% necessary. shortly after meeting her, it became quite obvious that ingrid was the type of friend tommy needed. yes, her life still consisted of the business, but her life didn’t revolve around it. she was a person outside of it, and tommy quite liked that person. growing up surrounded by the spotlight, it just felt nice to have a friend who he could genuinely be himself around and wasn’t going to call him an idiot for it. they’re each others biggest cheerleaders and partners in crime.
Just about as far away as she could get. It made sense. She was renting a room off of some keyboard player in a ‘Darkwave’ band, worked at comic book store, and was publishing some of her own comics online through a pseudonym. Went on ‘art retreats’ once a month to Mount Rainier national park and came back a little worse for wear but she wasn’t close enough to anyone for them to ask any questions about it.
Of course Thomas looked through her work to make sure that there was nothing telling about the family, not using their story in any way. The only slightly familiar character was one that resembled Figaro, so he wasn’t angry about that.
They’d meet her after work, outside of her building. She was, as she should be, quite surprised to see them and instantly fell afraid but didn’t try anything. Didn’t attack or lash out.
She invited them up for a cup of tea.
Thomas accepted but without any sort of warmth. This was for his wife. It was like - an errand, of sorts. That’s how he treated it. He wasn’t going to let things get personal. He closed that part off. He was a Laveau now, fully.
He explained what they were going to do, like a doctor before an operation.
She was against the idea at first. She still loved River. She still loved Flotsam and Valerie and Thomas and Dale and Chip and Raya and Ray and all of those people that she had considered family back then. The memories were the only thing that she had left of them and -
And Thomas would stiffly say, you’re going to let us do this, or we’re going to kill you right here, right now.
Simple as that.
He would suggest to Dale to just replace her memories with something bland. Going to school, coming home to the sadistic grandmother. Up to him what he decides to leave in, or if he leaves in anything, but amnesia could bring on attention. Seemed best to let her think that she was just an ordinary little witch who moved away from her bitch of a grandmother so there would be absolutely no reason for her to ever look back.
So she gave in.
She’d even kneel down at Dale’s feet, and would apologize to him for all of the pain that she had caused. She wasn’t expecting forgiveness. She knew she wouldn’t get any.
And when the deal was done, Thomas was just go. Just walk on out of there. Look at the watch on his wrist with impatience.
He just wanted to get home. Errand done. He missed his wife. Time to go.
