twisted wonderland one-shots (requests CLOSED! for now)

floyd x gn!reader

a/n: writing for fl*yd l**ch is so hard i spent some serious brainwork on this one. he's weird guys. i refuse to believe that floyd and jade wouldn't mess w each other bc as well as they work together it's nice to think that they still act like a pair of normal 17-year-old teens

synopsis (kind of) is that floyd keeps trying to corner poor reader but its not easy to sit and talk when some guy the size of a rhino is rushing you so the reader keeps running until floyd pulls some strings (cough threatens ppl cough) to finally pin u down. metaphorically and literally

(also riddle and floyd/reader animosity SUPREMACY. hate is hate guys <3)

You didn't really have anything in common with Riddle Rosehearts. In fact, you didn't even get along with him very well—courtesy of his strictness—but sometimes you found that he was one of the only people that you could confide in during strangely specific events.

This just so happened to be one of them.

You couldn't stand his holier-than-thou attitude at times, but right now there was no one else you'd want to be hiding in the library with.

"Can you hear him?" you whispered, peeking out from behind a bookshelf only to be yanked back by your arm.

"What are you doing?! Do you want him to find us?!" whisper-yells Riddle, face red with fear and anger.

"Listen, short-stack, I know damn well you can't see past the first shelf. I am actually trying not to get us killed!" you hiss back, shaking his hand off of you.

If possible, Riddle's face only turns redder. "You—"

"Shrimpy! I found you!" shouts Floyd gleefully, popping up from behind the two of you. Riddle, who's fight-or-flight response is much quicker than yours, books it to the exit. You aren't as lucky; Floyd snags your arm and yanks you back, nearly giving you whiplash as he starts babbling.

"Shrimpy, I am so  happy I found you. It's great that you're so slow, 'cause otherwise I'd have a hard time finding you—just kidding! You'll never get away that easy!" he says, squeezing you so hard you're certain he's cracked one of your poor ribs.

Normally, you don't have a big problem with physical touch. You high five your classmates, you hug your friends, and even though you're not sure that Crewel petting you like a dog is allowed you're too scared to ask him why he does it—but this is Floyd,  and he scared the absolute shit out of you when he does stuff like this.

"Shrimpy? You alive?" he asks, shaking you until you squeaked out an affirmative.

"Y-yeah, I'm here..." you groan, dizzy and breathless in the worst sense of the word. Floyd loosens his hold on you but doesn't let go, which makes you panic a little bit. Were you going to die here, alone, in the painful embrace of an Octavinelle student? Well, at least I'll be warm,  you reason to yourself. 

Floyd wasn't the harshest he could be with you. You'd seen him in action a few times, so you were well aware of what he was capable of—and if you were being completely honest, you really liked watching him when his back was turned. If this was any other scenario, you'd be happy in his arms—but this wasn't any other scenario, because you had almost been sent into cardiac arrest at his jumpscare and now you were feeling the life drain out of you as he lugged you around like a boneless doll.