#bottom!newt

[xnewtiebooty]

Newtmas headcanons, some NSFW (Post-Death Cure, AU in which Thomas time travels to save Newt/or WICKD found Newt and revived him.)

. They are extremely codependent and obsessive, mainly on Thomas' end. He can't stand being away from Newt, not being able to see him. If he doesn't know where Newt is, he spirals into panic. He feels like Newt could just slip between his fingers again at any moment.

. Newt has a love/hate relationship with Thomas's unfaltering attention. It used to be all he ever wanted, was for Thomas to look at him, but there are times at which he feels ready to explode. He's sick of feeling treated like an incapable child, or like he's something fragile. One day, he snaps, and they get into a huge fight over it. He storms off, and Thomas is shocked and hurt but realizes Newt is right. Thomas tells him he'll try to give him space, when he needs. Newt apologizes, acknowledges that it's partly on him, and that he'll try to communicate what he needs better from now on. That he understands the need to be together- really, of all people, he does- and how much of a comfort it is for Thomas, but that he needs space to just be "Newt" sometimes, not just "Newt & Thomas."

. They both have nightmares about that night. Newt dying.

. Because of this, they can't sleep without the other. They always need to be close and able to reach out and touch the other for reassurance.

. Newt avoids mirrors. Often, he'll see his reflection and see the version of himself afflicted by The Flare. Bordering on inhuman, pupils blown so wide they eclipse everything else, stark black veins trailing up his face and neck.

. Thomas knows this and always makes it very clear to Newt how he sees him. That he's the most incredible person he's ever known. That he's the glue that binds everyone together, the one they turn to when they need comfort and advice. That he's beautiful, and that Newt isn't a monster. That Thomas loves/loved even that version of him.

. Newt will often find himself slipping into the same patterns he experienced during The Flare. He'll grow short-tempered, feeling like he's ready to boil over and scald anyone who dares get too close. He'll ruminate and become obsessive. When this happens, he showers in ice cold water, the shock helping to bring him out of the dark haze and ground him in reality. After these episodes, he is completely drained, and simply collapses into bed. Thomas will find him and join him, softly carding a hand through his hair.

. Thomas makes sure to say "I love you" at every opportunity. He never wants to miss another chance, given that he wasn't able to say it to Newt before. When he died.

. Thomas is extremely touchy. He prefers to be holding Newt in some capacity, touching him at all times. Newt secretly very much enjoys this.

. Having sex helps to pull the both of them out of the haunted echoes in their heads, bringing them together as closely as humanly possible and being able to convey their love for each other when words fail them.

. Newt will sometimes ask to be restrained in some way. Sometimes Thomas will bind his arms behind him, others he'll just pin him down with his full strength. Newt needs the reassurace that he can't hurt Thomas even if he somehow were to lose control and Crank out. At first Thomas is hesitant to do this. The last thing he wants to is potentially hurt Newt. But he realizes it makes Newt feel secure, safe and comfortable. They both grow to enjoy it very much.

. Thomas is the most gentle, attentive service top. He is more than happy to sit back and let Newt take control, or to take charge when the other needs that feeling of security. He and Newt both know he secretly loves it when Newt dominates him however <3

. He felt shame in it for a long time, but Thomas finally forced Newt to admit he just wants to be taken care of. There's nothing quite like giving himself over to the other man and allowing his brain to shut off. He doesn't have to be the responsible one or the one providing for others for once.

. Newt will often gently talk Thomas through it and tell him how proud he is of him, how good he is, and how much he loves him. Thomas melts at the praise.

[godjustkys]

oh my god dude you're gonna LOVE newt hes so insanely cute.. thinking abt childhood best friends to lovers with him and learning how to navigate a relationship and then sex... both reader and newt nervously stumbling over eachother in bed trying to figure out what feels good for eachother.. getting to fuck him nice and slow while he tries not to ramble and bring up random creature-related stuff he thinks of.. kissing his freckles and checking in every 2 seconds because!!! hes so!!! ANYWAYS i feel you probably get it by now but have fun watching the movies.. they're so fire

SYPNOSIS: gentle (clumsy) sex with your nerdy boyfriend

CHARACTER: male reader x newt scamander

NOTE: for the life of me, i swear i couldn’t figure out how the fuck to write reader awkward. I TRIED.

p.s. requests are always open!!

WC: 1.3k

WARNING: both reader and newt are awkward as hell,, soft, gentle sex,, worried!reader,, fingering,, spit as lube,,

you had known newt scamander since the two of you were small boys sneaking dragon-scale beetle wings into potions class and pretending you weren’t secretly terrified of boggarts. hogwarts had come and gone, and though most people drifted apart, you and newt never did. maybe it was the way he talked about creatures like they were people. or maybe it was the way he looked at you like you were one of a kind.

even after the war, after the travels and letters and long silences that weren’t really silence at all.. you found your way back to each other.

you had known him forever. but kissing him for the first time on a rainy tuesday, both of you shivering in soaked coats and awkward laughter, that was new. Being in love with him — that was new.

newt’s back hit the mattress with a soft whumph, curls haloed around his head, lips pink and already kiss-bruised. his vest had been tossed somewhere in the corner, his shirt hanging open, and chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted through a storm. you slowly kissed down his jaw, his throat, his collarbone; pausing at every freckle like you had all the time in the world to learn him by heart. “i feel like my mind’s going to split in half,” he whispered, voice thin and wavering. “I keep thinking about— about— bloody mooncalves and whether this is normal for—” you smiled against his chest. “you can talk about mooncalves later.” newt let out a helpless sort of laugh that turned into a shaky gasp when your hand slid down his chest, fingers grazing the trail of hair below his navel. his thighs tensed, and you paused again, looking up to meet his eyes. “you, uh, okay?”

“yes- yes, mhm.” he got out, blinking excessively as he stared at you. it didn’t take long for you to strip him, and yourself, so now here he laid beneath you, in all his glory. when you finally touched newt, fully, his hips jerked like he’d been struck with lightning, head tipping back into the pillow. he was already so hard, leaking at the tip, and the warmth of your hand coaxing him into a slow rhythm had him trembling. your name spilled from his lips and for the first time ever, you felt like your name was holy. the way he sounded lit a fire within you, and he just kept spurring you on, feeding that flame. you stroked him slowly, lazily, still unsure if he liked it, but it was just enough to keep him gasping, flushed and twitching under you. “feel good?” you muttered softly, a small bit of anxiety washing over you as you waited for the answer. “uh-huh, uh-huh—” newt rambled out, his fingers clenching in the sheets. then you decided to experiment, pressing your thumb to the slit of his cock, and he made a sound that was practically a whimper, one hand flying to cover his mouth.

“you’re— ah— very good at that,” he breathed. you let out a small, appreciative chuckle, kissing the crease where his hip met thigh. “you make it.. easy.” by the time you slicked your fingers, newt was so worked up he was trembling, continuing to grab at the sheets like he was about to fall off the edge of the world. easing a finger in, he gasped soundlessly, thighs tensing. he felt as if the silence was stifling, so his eyes darted to the side. “i’ve uhm- read a few things,” he muttered, ears going red. “some diagrams. diagrams are very helpful.” you smiled, nuzzling under his jaw. “i’d rather explore the subject.. hands-on.” he made a sound, half laugh, half gasp when your lips pressed to the soft spot under his ear. “oh..” newt just muttered, staring at the ceiling wide eyed. you started thrusting your finger in and out, slowly, letting him adjust. he did his best to keep his breath even, focusing so hard that he almost started dissociating.

when you eased another finger in to prep him properly (you didn’t really know what you were doing, you were too worried), he made a panicked little noise like he had just startled a hippogriff. you curled your fingers, experimentally once again, watching newt’s face intently. “OH— I— I— fuck,” he squeaked, voice cracking. “merlin, don’t stop— please— i’ll name a niffler after you—” your eyes lit up at his tone. so that felt good. curling your fingers again, newt mewled helplessly, arching his back when you added a third one. “oh bugger,” he gasped. “it’s a bit- bit strange— like, ah, being filled..? i don’t think that makes any sense, i’m sorry—”

after a bit more prepping, you slowly lined the tip of your cock to newt’s hole. you didn’t push in, just looked at him. “you- you’re ready, right? you sure you’re okay?” you asked softly, fingers just brushing against the inside of his wrist. he nodded quickly, a little too fast. “yes— yes, I just— er— this is rather uncharted territory for me.” you smiled softly in response, keeping your composure. “for me too.” when you pressed in and pushed your cock half way in, newt was writhing, and rambling. “did you know— uhm, some nifflers purr when you stroke just under their ears?” he said, breath hitching when you kissed the spot below his jaw. “i’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” you breathed out, sinking in the rest of the way, both of you gasping like you were coming apart at the seams.

he was so tight, his gummy walls sucking you in, clenching around you tightly, his breath catching in his throat, mouth open but silent. you froze. “okay?” you asked, barely holding on. “mhm,” he hummed lowly, face scrunched up. “just— slow..” you kissed his lips as you started to move, keeping the rhythm unhurried, every thrust deep and smooth. newt clung to you, legs wrapped around your waist, hips shifting to meet you every time you sank back into him. and god, he felt so good. every little gasp, every moan, every time he said your name like he couldn’t believe this was real. you kissed along his jaw, whispered how good he felt, how beautiful he looked like this. you kept rolling your hips, slow and deep, dragging yourself out and pressing back in again until newt was shaking, his words tumbling out in a mess of half-formed thoughts. “this is— better than mating dances— those are very involved, some creatures take hours to— ah..— don’t laugh, I’m trying to stay— haah!— intellectual about— oh bloody hell, right there..” you captured his lips in a sloppy yet tender kiss, your thrusts steady, slow, filling him again and again until all he could do was gasp and moan, fingers digging into your back. he huffed softly, chest heaving, clearly trying not to preen. “suppose some creatures present similarly when breeding... fire-crabs, for example, often arch their backs and— nghhgg!—” newt cut himself off. at first you thought something was wrong. “newt? too much?” you murmured softly. “there— hell- again, again.” he urged you in a desperate tone, clutching you closer. your cock prodded at his prostate again and he was blissed out. a couple moments later of that same deep, steady rhythm, he came untouched, crying out your name, his cock spilling between your stomachs, body clenching so tightly around you that it dragged your orgasm out of you too — deep, hot, spilling inside him as you groaned his name into his mouth. you collapsed over him, panting, bodies slick with sweat, completely tangled. “that was—” he began, voice hoarse. “astounding,” you finished for him, brushing sweaty curls off his forehead.

“i.. was going to say impossibly filthy, but yes. that too.”

© godjustkys ©

[dont-let-me-eat-pears]

Newt | Peeta

[person4924]

sigh .😔

[pealeii]

making shitty tmr moodboards just to feel something

[pseudepigraphon]

"Thus the thirty pieces of silver and the kiss; thus deliberate self-destruction, in order to deserve damnation all the more."

[hidemation]

Hi! Can you draw nessa in your style!

Haha, funny fact when i first saw her when you posted her i thought of something and immediately went to ibispaint to make a comic and only saw this ask after i finished it:

Newt would regret making nessa immortal not because she made some things difficult for him but because she will never grow up and has to live with him in his dangerous life

[kafka-ohdear]

"try and cope with your own problem" WRONG 💥💥 IM GONNA WRITE ANOTHER GAY FANFIC 💥💥💥💥💥💥

[gracieblood]

i have never cried because of a song but when this shit starts playing i come pretty fucking close to bawling my eyes out

[travsd]

On the Nimble Natation of Newt Perry, and Several Spectacular Springs

January 6 was the birthday of swimming promoter and aquatic showman Newt Perry (1908-1987). I wouldn’t claim that I would never write about better known Perrys such as Luke or Kate, but this is definitely a show biz blog that prioritize a guy like Newt by a factor of many years certainly. Before we dive into Perry’s life (you see what I did there?), this is a case where the setting is as…

[xnewtiebooty]

Anyone have recommendations for NON-explicit Newtmas fics? The longer the better, and I prefer slowburn. Anyone who's following me knows my tastes and preferences so just lmk :)

[lustlovehart]

You Gotta Kiss The One

A/n: This isn’t my usually writing, so this is more short scenario rather than actual story, so sorry if it isn’t my best. Anyways, I was in need of some fluff for the twst men so here we are. (This came out a bit cheesy honestly) Also, unfortunately no Jamil because i went through 7 drafts for his part and hated absolutely all of them.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo x Reader

Summary: [Fluff] In a turn of events, it seems you’ve lost your voice, and it’s up to the one you love to give out the cure, a kiss from their lips to yours.

Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Reader wasn’t meant to be Yuu but they’re friends with Grim so, 50% Yuu.

Unfortunately, making potions with Grim never goes right. One moment, you’re carefully adding in the newt that assists in projecting a beautiful singing voice to its recipient, and in the next your head gets shoved in the concoction. When you finally emerge, your throat attempts to sound out your criticisms of Grim's recklessness. But, your lips are the only thing that moves in motion, your voice not even croaking out a word.

“Why ain’t yah talkin'?” Your hands quickly grab onto the recipe book pointing at the bold disclaimer at the bottom of the page.

If the potion is consumed before the newt is added, it will have the opposite effects.

Before you can read the rest of the text, your companion snatches the book from your hands, reading the rest of it on his own. When Grim reads out the instructions, your eyes narrow when you hear a slight chuckle escape from him when he tells you your only solutions. It’s either never talk again or...

Of course, never talking again has its pros, but, if you don’t have your voice, however will you tell… Him, about your feelings…? Of course, you could just write your confession, but that doesn’t have quite the kick words spoken from your chest do—

"Uhh... seems you gotta kiss your little crush [Name]!"

…

"What."

Before you're allowed to interject, Grim is already reaching his paw up and taking you by the hand, not even allowing you to tell Crewel about your situation. You’re quite sure if you had just told him you could’ve avoided the whole dilemma. Alas, Grim’s very eager in bathing in your embarrassment.

—————

Riddle is fuming at Grim's carelessness, it’s already bad enough that you have no magic in this faraway land, but to be subjected to a potion that doesn’t have a real cure? That’s even worse. He most definitely beheads the feline after he hears about the situation, immediately sending him onto a time-off corner, prattling on about how he should’ve been listening to the rules and acting accordingly in class.

His lecture is cut short at the sound of scribbling, his head turning to look at you furiously writing down on a piece of paper. Your lips are straight-lined as you lift the words to his face.

“Grim said the cure is a kiss.”

Oh… his mouth opens to question you more about this so-called cure, though the heart shape you form with your hands, however, is all the information he needs. It’s unfortunate that it only works if you kiss whoever it is you “love”, he could’ve gotten away with kissing you under the guise of helping if it was just anyone who could kiss you—

Who’s he kidding his face is close to turning red at such a thought. Of course the cure is something so basic, true love. Ah, no not true love, just simply a crush. Yes, a crush.

A crush that can’t be him.

He stays composed externally but internally he can’t deny he’s a little disappointed, it doesn’t matter however, he’ll help you get this kiss from your mystery student, even if it hurts a little to watch. The sound of flipping paper attracts his attention once again.

“So kiss me. Please.”

… What…? What…?! What?!

His eyes widen at the words, his mouth agape at the statement, his skin quickly flushing at the thought. You. Him. You and him. Him and you.

He’s essentially frozen in place. But, the extremely quiet sound of a broken up “okay” signals to you his permission. The feeling of soft lips being placed on his own snapped him out of his trance. He blinks a few times at your face, a smile invading your mouth.

“Thanks Riddle.”

—————

Your hands are furiously shaking Leona's shoulders, despite your relentless attempts at awakening him from his slumber, he doesn't even tell you to stop.

He didn’t even show any signal of stirring when Grim practically shouts to you about getting that kiss from him to “fix yah up”. Didn’t show any sign when you threw one of his shoes at the cat either.

He might be dead, he’s pretty still, like a corpse… Nah, he’s just being a douche.

Carefully, you drop down to his level, your face smooshed into his mattress as you look at his sleeping face. He looks a lot more peaceful in his sleep, his face is less serious and a bit more softer. He does look like a prince from a fairytale when he’s asleep, actually, maybe more of a princess with how pretty he is.

If you had your voice, you’re sure there would be hushed chuckles leaving your throat as you take out your phone. Your fingers are quick to swipe open your camera, lifting the device to Leona's face. Your joy doesn’t last long though, as when you’re just about to take a picture, the sight of Leona stares back at you on your screen, the subdued expression he previously held replaced with his usual face.

“What do you think you’re doin?”

…He’s awake! You’re quick to open the notes app, ready to explain the whole thing to him, along with indirectly confessing your feelings, unfortunately. But, he seems to think differently, as your phone is swiftly snatched from your palms and placed on his nightstand. When you reach over to grab it, his arm pulls you back down, your head buried into his chest, essentially being used as a secondary pillow for him.

“That typing’s loud, i’m tryna sleep.” … and I’m trying to get my voice back.

No matter how much you struggle, he doesn’t let you go. After a few minutes of trying to get your phone back, you give up, becoming his human-sized plushie in your defeat. Maybe he’ll be in the mood when he’s awake. So, your eyes gradually shut themself, sleep taking you over as you wrap your arms around the lion next to you.

…

“Hey, quit talking in your sleep.”

“Hmm…? Oh sorry— Wait what…?!” His palm flies of your mouth as words get muffled in his skin.

Appears you missed the Leona Kingscholar, kissing you. That’s unfortunate.

—————

“Hmm…? You need my help yes? Well then just sign here and I’ll get you that kiss you need!” Azul slips the golden contract across the table, the con man smiling as you read through the fine print.

In the corner, you notice the extremely tiny text saying how you’ll be obligated to stand by his side for the next month and do whatever tasks he needed to be done from you.

You swiftly slide the paper back to him as your head vigorously shakes a firm “No”.

“Oh? Do my terms not satisfy you? Your situation sounds very similar to our princess from the Coral Sea, having to kiss her prince for her voice back. I wonder how you’ll get that princely kiss…” he shrugs his shoulders before sighing, grabbing a stack of papers along with a pen, waving you off before looking at the sales revenue from this week. “No matter, if you don’t need my help please exit, I am a busy man—��

Your hand slams on the surface of his desk, his pupils widening at the sudden outburst. He stays silent for a moment, the glimmer of his glasses covering your view of his eyes. If you had, you would’ve seen the slightest hint of longing in him.

“A very determined soul you are… I'll change your conditions if you want your voice back so bad.” His fingers snap, the old contract disintegrating as a new one forms in his hands. “No fine print, I’ll help you get your kiss, and you work for the Monstro lounge for 2 weeks. Just 2 weeks. Is that a deal?” You squint, looking to make sure there really is no fine print. When you’re assured there really is none, you take a pen from his gloved palm, writing your signature on the line.

“It’s a deal it seems, now, tell me who it is you have affections for, and I’ll make sure you get that kiss—-“The sudden pull of his collar stops him mid-sentence, your lips connecting to his own before pulling away.

He’s extremely flustered, his cheeks blushed, his hat lopsided, eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He did agree to get you that kiss, but… he truly wasn’t expecting you to kiss him…! Of all possible candidates at the school…

“Wha… I’m… Huh…!?”

You straighten your posture before rolling your sleeves up, “So when do I start Azul?”

—————

Your eyes watch Vil meticulously crush, stir, and drop different ingredients into the cauldron, each one changing the color of the liquid inside. To be honest, you’re a little disappointed he knows a cure, you’ll have to wait another time before really confessing to him. His well manicured fingers take the ladle into his hand, carefully pouring the bright drink into a bowl, handing it to you as his eyes await for you to drink it up.

When you do, you set the bowl down, ready to speak, but no sound comes out. Your eyes stare into his, confusion set in your irises.

“I thought you had a dry throat?” Oh, you shake your head, your index finger pointing toward the cauldron and signaling poorly acted-out explosions and screams. “So it was a failed potion?” You pause for a moment before remembering what unit you were on in class. “It was that singing potion wasn’t it?” He contemplates for a moment before grabbing a small vile on the shelf, a potion the was already premade.

He pops it open, ready to pour it down your throat, but before he does, he pulls it back, quickly replacing the concoction with his extremely soft lips the taste of something good invading your taste buds, you assume it to be his chapstick. He stills for a moment, letting your lips lock and exchange touches. When he releases, he doesn’t give you the chance to interject, making you chug the drink down your throat, some of it escaping the corner of your lips, his gloved thumb wiping it off your chin.

“Vi… Vil…? Why’d you do that…?”

“How did Grim tell you to lift it?” He backs away from you, putting the empty glass in the sink.

“He said I… Had to kiss someone I liked. Why?”

“That’s what he said? Huh, I see.” He takes out his own brand of chapstick, reapplying it to his lips. You stay leant on the shelf of the rooms, watching as Vil’s silhouette moves towards the door. “No reason. Now, I have to get back to filming. Take better care of your lips, [Name].” He’s already out the door by the time you work up the courage to say anything else.

As he walks in the hallway, the leather of his gloves clench. It seems Grim did correctly tell you the cure. It doesn’t matter though, whether it was his kiss or that potion that worked, all he cared about was getting you fixed. He’s an actor, he’s keen to notice the presentations of people around him. He was sure you liked him, and even Rook fed into such a delusion. But, there was always a gnawing feeling of not being fair enough to you. So just in case, if you never really did like him, he won’t know.

He’s a good actor, but even actors can’t lie to themself. He really hopes it was his lips that cured you and not that potion.

…

The next day, when Vil finishes applying his makeup, the door to his room is knocked on, albeit very quickly. By the time he finally opens it, nobody is found, only a gift basket filled with fruits and low-grade beauty care, well low grade to him. If his suspicions about who this came from are correct, he can’t blame them for not having enough money to afford proper skin care.

When he looks in, all he sees is a card with a small smiley face and a heart. But he already knows who his secret sender truly is.

—————

Your knocking on Idias door gets harder and harder with every strike. You know he’s in there, but chances are he’s too absorbed in a game to notice your frantic hits. You’re about to hit the wood one more time before the door swings open and your fist is only an inch away from his nose.

“I… I only heard you just now…”

You’ve been out there for 10 minutes.

“You didn’t text me beforehand like usual… Is… Is there something you need…?” He steps to the side allowing you in his room, immediately having you sit on his bed before shutting the entrance. You look around a moment before handing him the note you had pre-written on your phone.

“No voice. Cure is a kiss from person I like. I like you, Idia. Please kiss me.”

It isn’t exactly the confession you wished to give him, but by the time you were typing it, you had deleted so much of the text you originally had from embarrassment, and by the time you looked up, you were already at his door… and Ortho was beaming in excitement behind you, you couldn’t possibly disappoint him by just walking away again.

He essentially shortcircuits the moment he reads the words off the screen.

He doesn’t speak, not even a panicked screech. The only sign of embarrassment he shows you is the sight of his hair turning pink.

“Wha… Wha… What…?”

You expected that, so you lifted your finger, signaling him to scroll down.

“You don’t need to like me back, just kiss me and i’ll leave.”

“No no, If we were in like… like a game… that type of game… you would have… ughhh…. You would have my… affection bar… filled— not filled maybe like 110%… up…” he struggled to get the words out he didn’t even make eye contact with you once in his speech. But, you understand what he’s trying to say to you. “Nevermind, forget it…! Just find someone… someone else… you deserve like a prince of something…”

His posture is hunched over, and he’s quick to turn away from you. You’re sure if he was closer to the wall he would curl into the corner and attempt to hide from you.

You’re pretty sure he’s about to do just that, he’s already slowly making his way to the corner. He’s only narrowly stopped when he feels you tug on his sleeve, pulling his face into your own.

His mouth was slightly open from shock, so his razor sharp teeth poked you, but even then it was still a nice feeling. When you part, he stares at you for an entire minute. His hair was already pink, but somehow it must’ve gotten even pinker.

“You… You won the game…”

“Did I…? What does that mean…?”

“Forget I said that. I’m gonna die now”

—————

It’s been at least half an hour since you’ve met up with Malleus, and he seems to not have noticed you don’t have a voice to reply. But at the same time, it’s nice listening to him ramble on and on about his Gargoyle studies—

“You have not spoken.” Your head is quick to turn, your body slightly jolting at the sight of Malleus’s face mere inches away from your own. Sometimes, you forget he doesn’t have any sense of space. This point is further proven when he moves his face away but your shoulders are still in contact. “Why is that?”

Your hand reaches down to your side attempting to take out your phone, but, it only grasps air. You look back down into your pocket, not noticing any holes for it to fall out of.

What? Did… Did I loose it or something?!

“This thing…” your head flips back to the man in front of you, his gloved fingers turning the phone with narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand, why not just talk to me? Would you rather use this phone than converse with me…?” You can spot early signs of Malleus’s emotional turmoils. It doesn’t take long for you to see the hint of disappointment in his eyes at the mere notion of you not even wanting to talk to him.

Along with that, clouds are beggining to form in the sky

You immediately shake your head at him, your fingers pointing to your throat while forming an x. Though your movements are so quick from the sheer panic of lightning striking, he doesn’t understand what you’re doing until you slow down.

“Ah, you did talk about that potion unit didn’t you.” You nod your head, ready to perform a collection of poorly acted-out charades to showcase your cure. You only got as far as the heart in your hands before he interrupts. “If I remember correctly, the fix to that is a kiss from the one who holds your affections… is it not?” The boom of thunder increases at an incredible rate, and even the pout Malleus holds on his face gets more obvious. “Have you come here to ask for my aide?” You can tell, it’s very obvious he’s trying to hide his dispiritedness beside a veneer of support. “Then… I will help a dear… friend.”

At his words, you shake your head the hardest you’ve probably ever shaken it to disagree with someone. You’re sure you must’ve swayed your brain too hard, by the time you stop you honestly feel a little dizzy.

“Ah, do you not want my help?” The lightning in the air starts fading, but in exchange, it’s like the clouds have gotten darker. “Am I, not allowed the see the object of your desire?” You wish you just had your phone out from the beginning, it would’ve made things so much easier. You bring your arm up, pointing at him.

Malleus is smart, he needs it if he will be Briar Valley’s ruler. Yet, he’s a bit dense in terms of human emotions and relationships.

“I thought you didn’t want my help…?” You’re sure if you could make any sound, pure screams of frustration would’ve left you. “I’m left in confusion as to how it is I can help you. I want to assist you Child of man but, I don’t wish to see you kiss anyone else—“Your hands immediately take him by the tie, dragging him into you as your lips practically smash together. If anyone saw you, such a scene would be quite the scandal for the heir. Minutes go by when you finally release him, and when you look up, the sky is the clearest it's been for the past month. “So it was me.” The look in his eyes is fond, it’s a warm sight.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner, I didn’t hide it…”

“You didn’t?”

“I confessed to you twice before this Malleus…”

—————

(This is self indulgent cuz i’m unfortunately a Rollo fan…)

Considering how far away Noble Bell is from Night Raven, you have no doubt you’d be stuck voiceless for quite awhile before you get to see Rollo again. Grim is just left to watch you sulk as your head falls in disappointment. You honestly don’t know how to tell Rollo about your situation either, you could always text him, but how do you even tell him you need to kiss him as your cure? Along with that… over text? That’s just pathetic. He’d probably shame you for being so ungraceful with your feeling towards him.

“Quit moppin’ and tell him already! I’m gettin' depressed just watchin’ ya…” with your head buried into your arms you can feel Grim practically shaking you out of your ball of shame with his tiny paws. “Come… on…! You’re not gonna get your voice back doin' nothin’!” He’s… unfortunately, completely correct.

With a soundless groan, you reach for your phone and open your contacts, drafting the text you’ll send to Rollo.

Rollo, I need to tell you something… your fingers continuing to vigorously type your paragraph.

Three knocks disperse your attention.

“[Name] are you there?” The familiar voice immediately strikes panic in your body as you accidentally throw your phone into the air, pathetically catching it as you stumble towards the door with a loud thud. On the other side, the door can be seen harshly shaking at an impact from within the room, Rollo glancing to each side of him in confusion. “Are you okay?” The lack of a reply makes worry bubble inside of him.

Before he’s given the chance to open the entrance himself, the door swings inward, allowing him to peak in through the crevice. He looks inside with initial confusion before hurriedly shuffling towards the room, the sight of your body on the floor making him even more puzzled with every passing second.

He lifts your upper body, having you sit face to face with him in such close proximity. Your eyes are dazed, looking directly into his eyes before looking around as if you didn’t even notice this was the genuine Rollo Flamme and not just a product of your imagination.

Damn you Grim… Leaving me as soon as you opened the door…

“Your room… is very disorderly [Name].” I was on the floor and you’re focused on how messy my room is? “I did tell you about how messy it was last time I was here too didn’t I?” I get it, I’m messy, so stop rubbing it in… A moment of silence passes before he quirks up an eyebrow, suspicions of his growing by the minute. “No witty comeback this time? Have you finally decided to start listening to me?” Your lack of reply Honestly worries him. Your eyes take a glance at your phone, making his tired face look over as well.

When he moves to grab it, he pauses his hand frozen in place. Your text is still displayed on your screen, as well as the current predicament you find yourself in. Realization hits you in waves as you quickly crawl over to snatch your phone from his palm. When you tried, his hand moves away in time to avoid your reach.

“It’s quite distasteful to admit such a thing through text.” I knew it… your head leans down, once more, in defeat. But, that's quickly changed when his nimble fingers take your face and lead them to his own. Honestly, it felt as if it lasted for eternity when in reality, the exchange only lasted for a couple of seconds. It was as if, Rollo finally felt the need to indulge himself in a little sin, only a little. When you finally separate, you're both left on the floor of your room, awkwardly glancing at the material.

“So… why’d you come here, Rollo? I thought after everything that happened at Fleur City you wouldn’t wanna come here again…”

“I do. I still don’t wanna be here.”

“Then why are you—“

“There’s a holiday at Noble Bell, we have a day off. I came to spend it with you.”

A/n: If anyone has like, any thoughts for the twst characters pls share them!! I may not be doing requests right now but I might write something short of you send in an ask!! Honestly, I just really enjoy when people ramble in my inbox. Also, I’m not too familar with writing Idia and Leona so i’m sorry if they weren’t written good!

[ashley-foster-13]

What TMR characters are like during sex

Newt:

really passionate, always making sure you're not in pain and feel good

by feeling good he means really, really good. he wants every time to be the best

during your first time, you have to guide him through some things. he's a little embarrassed of his inexperience, but you tell him it's okay

it was even fun explaining some... stuff

groans "fuck" in low voice in your ear

his accent is thick

his hair is messy as shuck

making love with him is very emotional

he's top most of the time, but once you asked to be the top, both of you liked the new experience much

can't stand it when you're teasing. he's squirming under your touch and is quite audible all of a sudden

he sometimes loses his mind and might go a little to rough, but you like it. he never causes you any pain

when he does, though, he's panicking as if the griever ran into your room. he stops immediately when he hears your voice in pain and asks if you're okay

apologizes hundreds of times after that, sealing every "sorry" with a kiss

is super. shuking. shy. when you want to give him head and tries to talk you out of it. one time when he's to caught up in pleasure, you start licking his dick, this time he lets you

thanks you after that with the same ;)

can be either super shy or super bold, which surprises you. both sides are awesome

he thinks good aftercare is a must

cuddles you after that, whether instantly asleep or vice versa, staying awake until you sleep, playing with your fingers

touching you is a gift

Thomas

is a lost puppy at first

catches up quickly, turning up much more experienced than you both thought

he is really loud, so you're used to covering his mouth with a hand

takes it slow, memorising the curves of your body and nourishing every precious moment

makes sure to say how much he loves you, how beautiful you are

he's huge

shower sex

loves trying new positions

but never does anything without your permission

sometimes is overly careful, because he doesn't want to hurt you

when you tell him that, he rails you like never before

you have trouble walking the next day, but you reassure him it's worth it

wearing his t shirts after

having sex in bed, then going to shower, and ending up shucking there once again

fall asleep with his head on your shoulder, him caressing your arm gently and mumbling words of love to each other

Minho

has been waiting forever to make out with you

is eager, but attentive. makes sure both of you get as much pleasure as possible, but never crosses the line

praise sex when you confide in him about your insecurities

"you don't see how beautiful you are"

you have to ask him manymanymany times to be the bottom at least for once

he loved it more than you did

asks you to do it more often

teasing each other is always an option

both of you being really quiet not to wake anyone up

getting surprised when one time he lets out a loud moan. he's kinda embarrassed about, so he makes you moan, too

imagine getting out of shower naked and slowly making your way to where he sits on the bed

he's mesmerized

once you told him to stop because it became kind of painful. he stopped immediately, kissed away you're tears and apologized a lot. you talked a lot after it, then you decided you both had to finish. he trusted your word to tell him if it's too much, and so, really, really carefully you made out until you came simultaneously

there was another time when you hurt him. you digged your nails in his back right where he got a deep scratch from his run. as an apology, you gave him a massage afterwards, avoiding red scratches. you were really embarrassed, but he told you it was all right

Gally

being rough most of the time

making you moan his name. loud

but you don't want others to hear you, so usually it's in the deadheads or somewhere private, when out of the maze

him whispering dirty things in your ear

him whispering cute things in your ear

him always on top

quickies is not something you enjoy, but sometimes you need sex but have no time, so it works

is firmly against anything that might be uncomfortable or painful for you

he only does something if you insist and prove that everything will be okay

hickeys, but not somewhere people will see

respects you more than anyone

doesn't like heads. nope

him being so quiet you sometimes have to ask if he's finished

if he didn't, you'll help him with your hand

he enjoys these moments sometimes even more than the sex itself

hugging you tight afterwards

"love you, lady"

Brenda

adorable

she isn't ashamed of nothing, that makes you feel more free in your actions

her giving you head is so professional you wonder if she graduated a sex school with excellence

she probably has

but your sex is never dirty. you make love, not just fuck each other

she loves you so much and makes sure you're okay with every move she does

it makes you feel so appreciated you always show her how much you love her back

anything to do with pain is a huge no-no for you two

jorge caring for you as much as brenda. he's happy for you two

giving each other tons of compliments, especially about being as hot as the Scorch itself

honestly i believe this is one of the healthiest relationships in the whole franchise

Harriet

wild. both of you

hair pulling

a little too rough sometimes. she might make you cry

you take revenge by teasing her so much it hurts

none of you mad because of anything

one day you just looked at each other, silently walked into her hut and just immediately started the thing

being open about it with everyone

calming her down when she has a huge breakdown, resulting in another make out session

wearing each others clothes after

walking naked around each other

her being the bottom is just adorable

whimpering underneath you

sweet words once you're finished laying down

aris teasing you

you teasing aris

threesome with sonya. she was suspicious about the idea, but it turned out as amazing one

Sonya

likes to keep the atmosphere light and jokes around sometimes

you giggling us the most amazing sound, in her opinion

flipping each other over many times and unexpected

soft moans escaping her thin lips

her silent screaming during orgasms

brushing your cheek

compliments

teasing under the table

her wearing fancy underwear to impress you

you being shy when she touches your core the first time

she's more dirty than she seems

much, much more

it takes time for you to get used to it

though she doesn't expect you to take the next step and start fingering her

sex after huge fights

talking dirty jokes all day long until the evening: both of you wet and desperate

one time is never enough for you

cleaning each other up afterwards is so cute and makes both of you feel cared for and loved and is so important

choking

hickeys

spanking lightly as a joke

Aris

you didn't expect anything from aris but shyness

he knew what to do, but was so uncertain about it you actually had to ask if he really wanted you

turned out he was simply freaking out

you had to guide his movements sometimes to show that he could go on

in awe of the beauty of your body

is ticklish

whimpers under every touch of yours

is really loving and caring the whole time

always slow. but it gives you more time to love each other

has this devilish look sometimes, and always catches you by surprise when rails you as hard as never before

but not too hard

and it only happens after a while, when you both got used to nakedness and intimacy

[foxglovecove]

Ahhhh??????!! THANK YOU OMG this is GORGEOUS!! I woke up and this is the first thing I see and I’m dead

@foxglovecove Yeah, okay.

[that-tmr-girl]

Not Fair

Instead of edging you, Newt tried a different method.

Oral, face riding, vaginal sex, overstimulation

She doesn't think it's fair that I edge her until she's in tears. She doesn’t think it's fair that she has to wait so long to properly cum. She doesn't think it's fair that I tease her.

So I won't.

I’ll just make her cum until she can't even walk. Then, I’ll make her cum some more.

“Newt,”She whined as I ate her out, pulling on my hair as her breathing was more than uneven. Listening to her sounds, I just started flicking my tongue against her clit as she arched her back again. Licking stripes down her middle, I tossed her leg over my shoulder as I hummed inside of her. With those same raspy breaths, she moaned louder before finally cumming, her white liquids absolutely drenched between her thighs and in my mouth.

Not letting that stop me, I kept the same pace before plunging my tongue inside of her. Swirling it around, I traced her walls as she kept squirming. Wrapping her thighs around my head, I made sure to not let up as I heard the neediness of her cries.

Turning my head, I gently bit her thigh as she whimpered. Putting two fingers inside of her, I kept nibbling on her skin as I started pumping. Not needing any time, she came in seconds.

Still, I curled my fingers while rubbing small circles above her entrance. Biting her one last time, I started sucking on the marks before going down on her again, still fingering her too. Trailing my tongue between her pussy lips, her entire body shook as she came.

Pulling away, I looked at the way she was practically cross eyed from how much I had just given her. I looked at the way her body was still shaking as she processed everything.

I wasn't done though.

“Why don't you sit on my face for me?”I suggested, rubbing my hands up and down her thighs.

“Can't. Move,”She panted.

“I've got no problem holding you. Why don't you wrap your thighs around me so that you can ride me? Let me get a better taste,”I repeated, acting as though she wasn't coating my lips and tongue.

“Newt, I-”

“Come on, love. I know how to please you,”I promised, kissing her jaw before sucking on her neck. All the while, my hand remained just by the bottom of her stomach.

Realizing that I wouldn't touch her until she was sitting on me she slowly sat up as I laid my head on the pillow. Grabbing her waist, I barely helped her adjust before firmly pulling her towards me, eating her out like no tomorrow. With small whimpers, she had her thighs back around me. Grabbing them, I kept her in place as I just plunged my tongue in and out. With more quiet moans, she went completely still as she completely dripped past my lips. Keeping my mouth open, I took in all her cum before sucking on her. With raspy breaths, she kept squirming until she broke again. Pretending not to notice, I just started humming, causing her moans to be strangled whimpers. Rubbing my hands on her outer thighs, I kept humming until she warmed my throat.

Helping her off, I had her underneath me again. Looking at the small tears of overstimulation in her eyes, I smiled before kissing her, taking away her already stolen breath. Grabbing her face, I pushed my tongue past her lips as I grinded on her making her moan into my mouth.

“Such soft sounds,”I whispered, kissing her neck before taking the last of my clothes off. Lining myself up with her entrance, I looked at her for permission. When she gave me a nod I slammed into her. Repeating my name, she threw her head back as I made sure not to edge her. Dragging her nails down my back, she held me as she tried to hold on, but I just slid in and out like it was nothing, like being inside of her wasn't something that was always in the back of my mind.

“I’m close,”She repeated. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I railed her like I would never even get to kiss her again, pushing myself in and out. Throwing her head back, she whimpered as she clenched around me. Pulling out and slamming into her, I felt myself twitch, letting me know that I was just as close. Praising her name over and over again, I went as hard as I was capable of, making her release all over me. Doing the same, I shot my seed inside of her.

Still not done, I flipped us over so that she was on top and put my hands on her waist as she rode me. Closing her eyes, her face screwed up in pleasure as she was almost unable to move. Doing it for her, I thrust into her over and over as she put her hands on my shoulders to give herself any kind of stability. With a barely audible sound, she was finally pushed over the edge.

Spotting the way she barely seemed alive, I pulled her off and laid her on the bed. Grabbing her new clothes, I dressed her in light pajamas before putting on just my boxers to lay beside her. Pulling the blankets over us, I turned to my side and looked at her before kissing her forehead a few times.

“So do you want me to keep edging you or should I make you cum until you can't talk every time?”I asked, pulling away and twirling her hair in my finger.

“Just fuck me normally,”She dared suggest.

“Y/N, do you know why I love edging you?”

“Because you hate me,”She kind of joked.

“No, you pretty thing,”I sighed, grabbing her ass and pulling her close to my chest. Letting out a small yelp at the unexpected contact, she just looked at me for an answer.

“Because edging you means that I get to make love to you for longer. It means I get to spend more time with my girl. That's why I hate quickies so much. Because I can't take my sweet time with you,”I explained, putting my hand on her outer thigh before repeatedly kissing her forehead some more.

“That’s . . . actually sweet,”She said through heavy breaths.

“Well, I like being sweet to you.”

“You're still a shuckface for it though.”

“That's okay. It won't change what's bound to happen on quiet nights.”

[heliads]

Newt x reader Bridgerton AU. Reader, the diamond of the season, is the Duchess of Hastings. She wants to marry someone who likes her as a person and isn’t after her money. Newt, son of a widowed viscountess, needs to marry to save his family’s reputation because his sister Sonya was seen alone with her fiancé Lord Aris before they were engaged. The anonymous writer Lady Whistledown is Ava, a widowed modiste who has her nose in everyone’s business, and Aris is the only one who knows.

'foxes and hounds' - newt

masterlist

The start of a new social season, although intended, supposedly, to be a cause for joy, feels rather more like a fierce uprising of dread, not celebration. Across the ton, young maidens find themselves new entrees– or, entrants– to the marriage mart. This game of rings and dances, men with ambition and women with more, will end in blissful happiness or deepest discontent. And all will be witnessed by every worthy family from one corner of the country to the next.

If all goes according to plan, an eligible would-be bride will find herself engaged to a man she loves, a man in possession of a handsome fortune and a sterling reputation. If luck slips past her, she’ll settle for someone decent, or someone without any income at all. If nothing goes in her favor, her first year in society will not be her last as a single woman. She will have to repeat her attempt the next year, this time without the glimmering aura of a new arrival, and hope that something within her has changed enough to attract a proposal. Otherwise, she will sink to the bottom of the pile of dance cards, ignored, abandoned, and grown up into a spinster. All that hard work gone to waste.

You’ve heard many young women discuss the marriage mart with nothing short of absolute terror in their voices. A good opening season can seal a girl’s fate forever. Attracting the eye of a worthy man is an impossible task for all but the best of the rosebuds, or so it seems. Most of us will settle for something halfway decent– a tidy sum per annum but nothing extravagant, a man with casual disinterest but nothing harsh. Something that can be shaped into something good, or at least ignored in favor of not being alone. Such is the romance of a married life.

You, however, hope to extract a little more out of the whole affair. As the Duchess of Hastings, you have no need for money. A marriage would be nice, the final touch on the portrait of a successful lady, but you do not require the financial stability of a husband. You have plenty of money and plenty of friends. You will inherit your estate. If you look for a husband, you will look only for love.

One would think, then, that entering your first season among the eligible women of the ton would be bereft of the panic permeating through most of your friends in search of husbands. However, when you line up with the rest of the young women to be presented to the Queen at the start of the season, you find that it couldn’t be less true. 

Your stomach is in knots, even as you sweep confidently through the corridor to wait outside the door. The white feather in your hair stands tall and proud. Your dress is crisp and finely stitched, the highest of fashion yet never gaudy. You attract stares wherever you go– from the other girls, envious and jealous and heartsick, from the men, longing and cutthroat and mercenary– but pretend they don’t phase you in the slightest. As duchess, you’ve had plenty of time to grow accustomed to onlookers. You won’t allow them to interfere with you on this all important day.

At last, your name is called, and you enter the throne room, your mother behind you. You keep your steps small but light, and seem to float towards your queen. When the time is right, you sink into an elegant curtsy. The moment seems to last forever, your knees bent, your hands shaking slightly, but when the queen calls you to stand, you look up to find her smiling benevolently at you.

“I believe I have found my diamond of the season,” she announces.

The room erupts in polite applause, and you do your best to smother a smile that’s entirely too giddy to be proper. As you retreat from the room, you gaze at the faces surrounding you, trying to remember which ones look genuinely happy for you and which seem to be identifying a prize pig for the slaughter. When the town gossips all gather later to share their thoughts on today’s proceedings, you’re certain that some of them will attempt to discredit you, saying that of course the queen would choose the duchess as her diamond, but you know just as well as all of them that you deserve the honor today. You were the best of everyone here, and it’s plain to see.

Among all of them, your gaze catches on a singular man, almost lost in the crowd from all the bodies packed together but no less entrancing. What strikes you the most is that his face seems kind, and his eyes sparkle with pride as they watch you go. Pride for you, for your accomplishments. As if he couldn’t be more delighted that you of all people were named the season’s diamond.

Then you’re gone from the room, and the kind man is no longer before you. Still, you puzzle over the encounter long after your carriage takes you home. You don’t believe you recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything to sway you towards any decision. An image of the young man swims in your mind– short, dirty blond hair, an upturned mouth, dark eyes, his face almost spritely. Clever, for sure.

You know better than to mess with clever men. Clever men are the type to try and twist your mind, convince you that they only love you then attempt to make off with your money. You know full well what marriage to you will offer any would-be suitor. This season, you may be looking for affection, but every man in the room will be after your fortune. The task of finding someone who truly cares for you will be a difficult one indeed.

So, clever men or not, you’ll have to keep your heart under close guard. When the first ball of the season comes to be, you don one of your finest dresses, and firmly admonish yourself to be careful. The game of hearts is not one that you lose. Either you win, or you destroy yourself.

You time your arrival carefully, so as to make the best entrance, and your efforts are rewarded. From the moment you’re announced, all eyes turn to you. Were it not for your extensive experience with being scrutinized in the grand magnifying lens that is the ton, you’d be nervous to have that many people looking at you. Even still, you can’t pretend you don’t feel a small flutter in your stomach.

It gets easier once you sweep further into the room, once people start smiling at you again, when the conversation picks up and you’re asked for your first dance of the evening, which you accept. Your partner is a charming man named Minho– dark hair, witty eyes, an excellent sense of humor. He’s athletic and a decent dancer, and by the time the music stops, you’re back to your usual self again. You can’t stop yourself from mentally sizing up your dance partner. He seems nice, and you wouldn’t be bored around him, at least. His family owns land. Although he’s not of your precise social standing, few are, and he’s close enough to you that it would be a respectable match.

Still– still, you think to yourself, as you move away from the center of the floor once more to consider your dance card, it’s not quite enough. You want love, you want a spark, and you didn’t quite get that with Minho. There are plenty of eligible suitors here, though, and many more balls to come. You’ll have other opportunities to select a match.

A few dances later, though, your feet are beginning to feel heavy and you’re still no closer to finding someone of interest than you were at the start. A good lady of extensive training such as yourself should have no problem dancing the entire night through with a pleasant smile on her face, but you’re still human, still tired, and your charming demeanor is beginning to pinch at the seams before long.

The music for the latest dance ends, and you curtsy to your partner, praying silently that no one else will be looking to fill your dance card for the next rotation. However, when you turn around, you’re greeted with the sight of many anxious faces. Something inside you wilts, perhaps your endurance.

Before the mobs can descend upon you, however, a figure appears in front of you. You sigh in relief to see one of your closest friends, Miss Teresa Agnes. “Teresa! And here I thought I wouldn’t have a single good friend all evening.”

Teresa laughs, her dark hair shining. “I would never abandon you. Certainly not when our diamond is sparkling so spectacularly tonight.”

You smile at her. “I’m not the only one who’s sparkling, Teresa. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Teresa says sincerely. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce someone to you. This is Viscount Newt, a good friend of mine. I met him through Thomas.”

You smile to yourself as Teresa turns to beckon someone towards you. Teresa has been harboring a not-so-secret admiration for Thomas since you were all small. This is her first season in the social circles, too, and if she doesn’t come out of it with a proposal from Thomas, you’ll think the sky has fallen. Even now, he’s watching her fondly from across the room, trying to pretend as if he isn’t pining madly while Minho teases him for it.

“Here he is at last,” Teresa says, and all of a sudden you can’t think about Thomas’ case of lovesickness for a second longer, because Teresa has brought her friend before you, and you know him. It’s the stranger from your presentation to the queen. The nice one, the clever one. The one that caught your eye, and then your imagination.

You curtsy automatically, and Newt bows. Once the two of you straighten up, you’re able to observe him more closely. You’d only gotten a fleeting glimpse earlier, but now you can drink in the sight of him, and you do. His eyes are dark, but catch the lights like stars. His mouth has a habit of twitching up at the sides, as if he’s always thinking of a joke but just barely managing to keep it at bay. When he looks at you, he really looks at you. You’ve been stared at all night by would-be suitors, but their gazes never went farther than surface level. Right now, it’s as if Newt can see through to your very soul, and most intimately of all, appreciates it.

Teresa gives you a confused look, and you realize you’ve been standing in silence for longer than is probably courteous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say.

“I must return the sentiment,” Newt returns. “Teresa has talked about you many times. I’ve been quite eager to meet you.”

“I hope I’m worthy of what she’s told you,” you say.

Newt smiles again. “I believe you’re even better than that,” he tells you.

Teresa is looking at you with an odd smile. “I believe I’d better let the two of you get to know each other, then,” she says, and sweeps away before you can stop her.

Newt laughs. “She’s been wanting to set us up for ages. For a friendship, I mean,” he breaks in hastily. “Apparently, she thinks we have a similar sense of humor.”

“I look forward to finding that out myself,” you smile.

Newt’s eyes flash with mirth again, delighting you. Behind you, the music picks up again. Newt extends a hand towards you. “Would you mind if I shared a dance with you? Unless, of course, you’d rather sit for a while.”

“I’d love to dance,” you say quickly, and it’s true. All of a sudden, the pain in your feet is gone, as if it had never existed at all.

Newt smiles and takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor. The orchestra begins its melody, and you start your dance. You make a mental note to ask Teresa a little more about Newt later; he dances like an aristocrat, but he speaks so freely to you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced in a suitor before.

Newt arches a brow as he steps through the dance. “Sizing me up, are you? It may be improper of me to ask, but I do hope I’m meeting your requirements.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I’m simply appreciating your mastery of this dance. Nothing more.”

Newt laughs easily. “Of course not. It’s not as if everyone else here is doing the same thing right now. Every dance partner is a strategy meeting. In just a matter of minutes, you’ll walk away knowing if I am a worthy wager, and I will do the same. This ball is full of hounds and foxes, my lady. We all know our parts.”

You glance at him, feeling a curious grin tugging at your lips. “And which am I? Fox or hound?”

Newt returns your proud gaze. “I suppose we’ll find out at the end of the season, won’t we?”

You laugh, feeling oddly triumphant. Newt has this way about him that you find enchanting. It’s  almost breaching impropriety with how candid he is around you, but it only makes you trust him more. The dance ends far sooner than you’d like. Newt relinquishes you to the storm of suitors outside, hopefully with just as much reluctance as you.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Newt is truly the only one that stands out to you. You don’t have a chance to dance with him again, but you keep making eye contact as you dance with other partners. You can practically hear his clever words in your head, catching you in the act of evaluating the suitors in front of you. Fox or hound?

When the ball ends and you return to your carriage for the ride home, you’re blissful, practically dreamy. You’ve had enough time with Newt to dream about it until the next ball, where you’ll likely repeat the same cycle over and over again until the season ends.

However, your golden mood is shattered when your chaperone sits down across from you. Her face, by contrast, is twisted with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into?” She asks once the carriage pulls away.

Still caught up in the heady dream of a merry boy who smiled the brightest when he danced with you, you don’t realize the trap descending around you until it’s too late. “What trouble?”

Your chaperone’s lips purse. “You’re meant to be dancing only with eligible gentlemen, my lady. I should hope that you’d be able to recognize the suitable candidates from the unseemly by now.”

The veil is pierced, and you’re beginning to be brought back to earth. “What are you talking about? I thought I made perfectly reasonable choices with my dance partners.”

Your chaperone shakes her head, a quick, sharp gesture. “All but one. Goodness, haven’t you heard about the trouble with that one family? I can’t believe Miss Agnes had the nerve to introduce him to you, but perhaps the fact that she’s so besotted with Lord Thomas is upsetting her mind.”

Your heart freezes in your chest. “You can’t mean to say that the Viscount is not a suitable bachelor? What else could he be?”

The other woman sighs. “You don’t know, do you? My lady, I would not interfere if I did not feel the need, but I can assure you, his motives with you are purely mercenary. That man is desperate for something to cover up the follies of his family, and you, my dear, are the perfect gilded shield.”

You feel cold. “What follies?”

“His sister, Miss Sonya, was seen alone with her fiance,” your chaperone murmurs at last. “Lord Aris. I would think you would have heard his name, although perhaps not connected it with Viscount Newt. Miss Sonya and Lord Aris were happily engaged, and by all accounts it was a fine union, but they were seen together without a chaperone past dark. Quite the scandal. The Viscount knows it and is eager to get the ton talking about anything but his sister’s misdeeds. Entering into a courtship with you would do just the trick.”

She’s right, and you know it, and you hate it. “He seemed so genuine,” you whisper, and instantly know how foolish it sounds.

Your chaperone, to her credit, is kind enough to take pity on you. “He did,” she tells you, “and you looked happy together. You would be less happy, however, when you found out the truth. I would rather you know now and stay away. Men like that are nothing but trouble.”

You nod solemnly, turning your head to watch the dark landscapes rumbling past. The sun is already beginning to rise, a hallmark of a late night out. It had been a beautiful night up until this, and now the entire evening is ruined in your mind.

“I feel for Miss Sonya,” you whisper. “She was already engaged. They were just talking.”

“She knows the rules of society, and so do you,” your chaperone reminds you. “We all have our roles to play.”

And the consequence of setting a foot outside your role is instant public mortification. Yes. What a forgiving world. You immediately plant your exhausted body in your bed when you return, hardly sparing the time to wash and dress, but the only things to bloom from your rest are troubled dreams of the boy that could have been yours. Now that you know the truth– that Newt was only trying to use you for a better reputation– every interaction with him is tainted.

You’d meant what you said in the carriage, though. You did think Newt was genuine. Hadn’t he laughed more than usual when he was with you? Hadn’t he regarded you with that fierce pride of his, as if he’d finally found a mind that was an equal to his? Hadn’t he watched you with something akin to jealousy when you danced with the other men that weren’t him?

Hadn’t you wished he would only dance with you? And don’t you wish that you could truly do what you promised yourself and marry only for love, never mind the rest? It is a simple dream to think that love is easy. Marriage is not simple, not in the ton, not in your lifetime. Every one of your days will be shaped by the whims of society, even when they take Newt away from you.

When it comes time for the next ball, you do your best to strengthen your spirits before you go. You intentionally avoid him, making sure to always have your dance card full whenever the music ends. It’s easy enough to find a crowd large enough to hide you from him, and yet you still catch glimpses of Newt from across the hall, several partners down, in a carriage many behind yours. You successfully go two balls, then three, without seeing him, but it aches like a knife in your ribs when you think about what could have been.

As it turns out, you’re not the only one wishing you were with him. At the fifth ball of the season, your attempts to distance yourself from the viscount are foiled at last. Newt tracks you down, signing his name on your dance card before you can stop him before leading you out to the dance floor.

“That’s a rather abrupt way of asking a lady to dance, don’t you think?” You ask as you curtsy.

Newt bows. “I felt it was the only way of guaranteeing that you would dance with me.”

“A lady never declines a gentleman in need of a dance,” you remind him.

The music picks up, and the two of you begin your paces. “A lady also never avoids a gentleman as thoroughly as you have at the last few balls,” Newt says. “Were it not for the fact that I know you to be as perfectly agreeable a duchess as there could ever be, I would say that it was personal.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, even with his hands on you, guiding you through the steps. “It’s not meant to work out, my lord. Us, I mean. We cannot forget the rules.”

When Newt speaks again, his voice sounds hurt. “Why not? Forgive me, my lady, but I remember what it was like that first night. You were happy. We were happy, and happy together. What changed?”

At last, you risk a glance towards him, and instantly regret it. Newt’s eyes are filled with genuine hurt. Are you wrong? Did he actually want you as more than a cover-up? “I heard about your sister,” you say as delicately as you can.

Still, Newt flinches as if you’ve hit him. “You don’t know the full story,” Newt says raggedly.

“Then tell me,” you beg him. “I would choose you if I could, but everyone seems to think that you are only interested in me to advance your station. Give me a reason to believe in you, not them.”

“I can’t say it here,” Newt whispers. 

“I can’t go somewhere with you alone,” you tell him quietly. “Especially not after what happened to your sister. You must tell me now, or we will never have another chance.”

“Alright,” he says at last. “But you mustn’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Once you agree, Newt begins to speak in a hushed whisper hardly audible to you, let alone the other couples around you. “Sonya is deeply in love with Lord Aris, and he is in love with her. So much so to the point that he has been battling a deep rage ever since that awful gossip rag, Lady Whistledown, slightly disparaged her last season. He took it upon himself to find out Lady Whistledown’s identity, and somehow, he did. The only problem is, Lady Whistledown is not someone Sonya would consider a friend. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of being anything less than perfect around that insidious writer, and he didn’t want to waste a moment. He called on her to meet with him as soon as possible. He didn’t think they would be seen, but they were, and of course Lady Whistledown ran with it to discredit them in case they would reveal her.”

You suck in a harsh breath. “It was never anything wrong, then. He merely wanted to protect her.”

Newt nods. “Lord Aris is a good man. He never would have done something like this if he realized how it would backfire. He regrets it daily, even though all he wanted to do was keep my sister safe. The ton knows their characters, too. Neither of them would do anything unseemly. The rumors diminish by the day, and soon, it will all be over. They will be happily married.”

He sighs and looks at you again. “I tell you this to explain myself, and to clear my name. I have nothing to hide from the situation with my sister and her future husband. In fact, it is only because they directly asked me not to spread this information that I haven’t gone public with the identity of Lady Whistledown herself to spare their reputations. I have nothing to fear, my lady. Certainly nothing that would make me risk the happiness of my marriage on a good rumor. I would court you because I have never met anyone like you before, nor do I think I ever will. You are utterly entrancing in every possible way. If you do not wish to be with me in that fashion, I would understand.”

You shake your head quickly. “I do want that, my lord. I want you.”

A careful smile slips across Newt’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” you tell him. “I have wanted you since the moment I saw you at my presentation. I would have found you no matter what lies they spread.”

Newt grins. “I believe I have decided something important, my lady. About your inner nature.”

You arch a brow as he spins you. “And what is that?”

“You’re a hound,” he informs you matter-of-factly. “Sharp and bright. Brave, too. But, then again, I am a hound as well. We make quite the pair, I think.”

“I think so too,” you tell him. In the days to come, rumors will abound about the viscount and the duchess. At first, there will be surprise across the ton, but then, even the most tenacious of gossips will realize that this makes perfect sense. The most clever of men and the most ambitious of women, bound together in holy matrimony. Even the best of poets couldn’t concoct a story that beautiful.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

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