#tmr fluff

[arcadian-litterateur]

sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.

word count: 8k holy���i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg

warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks

a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart. 

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much. 

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased. 

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him. 

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?” 

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.” 

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals. 

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!” 

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?” 

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said. 

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face. 

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice. 

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?” 

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim. 

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now. 

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time. 

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep. 

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight. 

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself. 

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid. 

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast. 

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes. 

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous. 

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know. 

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances. 

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic. 

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.” 

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight. 

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.” 

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—” 

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud. 

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!” 

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money. 

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp. 

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them.

“But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!” 

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights. 

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives. 

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them. 

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact. 

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin. 

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.” 

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain. 

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable. 

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly. 

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy. 

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time. 

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in. 

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings. 

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!” 

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport. 

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way. 

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be. 

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb. 

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.” 

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look. 

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart. 

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.” 

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world. 

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper. 

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me. 

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.

the end

[caberzatto]

a quiet sunday

fem!reader x Minho

summary: You're enjoying a peaceful day off with your boyfriend when expresses his complaints about his overgrown hair. So you offer a solution that he's admittedly reluctant about.

word count: 1.5k

*nothing but fluff

author's note: this is proofread, but I may have missed a few things so yeah...

You lay in the small twin bed in your hut, your dark-haired boyfriend snuggled up into your side. As your chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths, Minho's head followed suit; resting on your chest.

His athletic arms encapsulated your body between them, as he hugged you tightly, adding to the warmth of the blankets you both lay in.

It was Sunday, meaning you both had the entire day off from work and when these days came around, you always took full advantage of them. During the week, you were both constantly busy; Minho off in the maze from dawn until the sun began to set behind the walls, and you in the medhut all day treating the rest of the gladers who showed up with injuries.

All work came to a halt on Sundays, the day being treated as if it were a holiday by everyone in the Glade. Almost everyone would spend their 24 hours of peace lying in and simply chilling the shuck out, our one day of bliss if you will.

As you ran your fingers gently through your boyfriend's hair, lying together in silence, you felt his head shift against you as he tilted it back to look up at you.

You smiled softly at him. You could stay here forever. "Hey," you cooed.

He returned the smile, looking up at you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars combined, "Hey back."

A few strands of his dark hair fell in front of his eyes, his head tipping further back so he could get a better look at you. You carefully brushed the hair away from his eyes, "Your hair's getting long, isn't it."

"Yeah, and it's been bothering me for the past two shucking weeks," he mumbled lowly in displeasure, "it's started to get in the way when I'm running, not very ideal, can't even see where I'm going anymore."

You chuckled at your boyfriend's exaggerated words before an idea popped into your head, "Hey, why don't you let me cut it for you?" continuing to stroke his hair gently.

"Mmmm…I don't know if I trust you enough with scissors around my hair," he joked, "don't know if you've noticed, but I take great pride in these gorgeous locks."

It's true. He spends at least 30 minutes of his mornings just styling his hair; making sure it looks just right.

"Oh come on," rolling your eyes at the boy lying on your chest, "I cut my own hair all the time, I'm basically an expert at this point."

His head dropped back down to its previous position, stroking his fingertips up and down your arm, thinking the idea through, before lifting it back up to your gaze once more, "Fine. But if you mess up, we are so over."

You smiled brightly at him, before moving from your position to climb out of the blankets, rolling over him to plant your feet on the floor of the hut. He groaned as you pulled on his arm, forcing him out of his previously comfy spot in the bed.

Still gripping his arm, he plodded closely behind you as you led him into the small bathroom in your hut - One of the perks of being the only girl in the glade; having your own hut. Which also means having your own bathroom.

"Okayyy," once in the bathroom, you placed your hands on his shoulders, "Sit please." The wide grin plastered on your face was making him much too nervous for his liking, yet still, he obliged, taking a seat on the toilet that sat in the corner of the cramped space.

Turning your back towards him, you searched for the pair of scissors that you regularly used to cut your hair. After a few seconds of fiddling in the drawer between the sink, you turned back to face him, snapping the shears open and closed in front of him.

"Yeah…that smile on your face is not concerning at all," he stated, sarcasm clear in his voice. The comment only caused you to smile even wider, "Would you relax, it's gonna be fine, I know what I'm doing you shank."

As you stepped closer to him, scissors in hand, his body leaned away from you, clearly indicating apprehension. "Minho, if you don't want me to cut your hair just say so, please. I wouldn't even be upset," you drew a cross over your heart, "swear."

He quickly reassured you, "No, no, that's not it…I just-you can understand my concerns though, right?"

Your eyes softened, giving him a tender smile, "Of course I can, but I assure you, once again, I know what I'm doing, okay?" He sighed sharply, before simply nodding his head in response.

You were now standing between his legs, gently running your fingers through his dark hair once again. "Okay, I'm starting, you ready?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with already."

Positioning your free hand on the back of his head, to give you stability, you began snipping the hair on the top of his head. The first 'snip' of the scissors caused him to wince slightly in anticipation of the next cut.

Black strands of hair began slowly falling to your feet as you continued snipping off small sections of Minho's overgrown hair. Your fingers combed through his hair, directing it in an upward direction before stopping, where you'd cut off about an inch.

By the time you had finished working on the top of his head, you moved and used your free hand to angle his head down so you could begin working on the back.

Starting from the nape of his neck working up, you snipped away at the course hair. Minho's forehead was now resting on your stomach as you very carefully made sure not to nick his scalp with the sharp tool in your hand, "Mmm, feels s'nice," he grumbled into your midsection.

It was very clear that your previously reluctant boyfriend was now enjoying the lengthy process of getting his hair trimmed by you. A smug smile replaced your, once stoic, expression, "Mmm, I know sweetie, just relax m'kay."

His hands slid up from their prior position by his side, leisurely making their way up your bare legs to sit just below the hem of your shorts under your ass, his fingertips tenderly drawing circles on your smooth skin.

You finished up the back of his head, cutting it nice and short; just the way you know he likes it to be. You tilted his head to the right, then to the left, tapering off the sides. Finally, you lifted his head up, your finger softly positioned under his chin as you gave the completed haircut a final look-over.

As you studied your work for any needed improvements, you could feel your boyfriend's gaze burning into your face. "The shuck are you staring at you, dong?" you quipped as your fingers raked his hair, making sure it was even.

His eyes not straying away from you, "The beautiful girl standing in front of me," not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

You couldn't have hidden the bright beam that crept its way onto your face even if you tried your hardest.

"Okay whatever," rolling your eyes playfully, "I'm done, so would you go to the mirror and look at it, please."

The warmth on the back of your legs abruptly disappeared as Minho made his way over to the sink to take a look at his, now much shorter, hair in the mirror. He examined it carefully, turning his head in all different directions - very obviously trying to mess with you.

A few more head turns later and you were getting very impatient, awaiting a response from the puckish boy standing before you, tapping your foot hurriedly against the floor, your arms crossed over your chest.

Finally, he turned to face you with his lips pursed and squinted yes, as if he were about to tell you that he didn't like it. Your heart dropped in your chest with the thought, until he, at last, said something, "I love it."

Relief coursed through your body, your head falling back, accompanied by a long sigh.

Minho snaked his arms around your waist, peppering kisses along your throat before moving to your face, causing you to shake your head around in a poor attempt to get him to stop, giggles escaping from your lips, "Stop it, shuckface."

Your palm slipped between his lips and your face, pressing against his lips to push his head back, "Do you really like it, or are you just scared of hurting my feelings? Cause I'm a big girl y'know, I can handle the truth," your eyes squinted as you searched his for answers while your arms remained by your side, refusing to hug him back until he answered.

He laughed in response, "Of course I like it, I'd tell you if I didn't, honest," withdrawing one of his hands from your waist to draw a cross over his heart, just like you had done earlier.

A big smile replaced your once blank expression, finally lifting your arms to squeeze him back, dropping your head onto his shoulder in satisfaction. You still held the scissors in your right hand, so you had to make sure not to accidentally scratch him with them.

"I hope you know that you'll be cutting my hair for me every month from now on," your boyfriend stated, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Exactly the reason why I've never offered to cut your hair before," mumbling into his shoulder.

The two of you swayed from side to side in each other's arms, enjoying the rare quiet of the glade. Sundays will truly always be your favourite day of the week.

@iloveetoeatbananas (more minho content for youu <3)

[livinamity]

Somewhere Only We Know

Song here

If you ask Minho what he thought about her, he would write a love song. He would sing about her golden skin and how it shone like a star under the bright sun, and how her smile resembled a crescent moon. Moonlight: he’d call her that.

He’d hum the tune she’d sing to him at the pond by the deadheads. He’d talk about the nights they’d sit against the tree stumps and look at the idle night sky. When he wanted to spill his heart out and rant, she’d let him. That’s what he loved the most.

The loving look in her eye that held no judgement. The subtle tilt of her head to show she was listening. She always calmed his mind. So, then, in silence or chaos, he’d find her first. He would wait until his hands met hers to relax.

He would tell you how, now, although only left with memories of her, he would smile. He’d tell you how he’d memorised the melody of her laugh; and how he would revise it every night before bed just to relive it again.

To have someone understand your mind is a different kind of intimacy, and it's what he had with her. He had someone who knew his mind—in the dark times of the Maze, he found a light: his home.

[rosieandthethorns]

i don't WANT to read smut right now

i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia

[laccakes]

thinking about bakugou getting you a gold necklace with his first name's initial dangling from the expensive slim chain. he''ll offer to help put it on for you with a low "c'mere" and a soft look on his face. you gather your hair to the side, giving way for him to access your neck. once the necklace is on, he'll leave a feather-like kiss to the crook of your neck before he's twirling you around to see how his gift looks on you. there was something about that shining piece of jewelry hanging around your neck with HIS initial that made him feel light headed and embarrassingly weak in the knees.

his large hands rest pretty on your waist as his softened ruby eyes scan the huge smile on your delicate face. oh, how he wanted to kiss you so badly. "ya' like it, baby?" he soothed, hands moving to cup the apples of your cheeks. you nod quickly, smile never wavering, "i love it, kats. thank you." with that, he closes the distance between you two with a sweet kiss. the kind of kiss that had you both smiling into it.

[star--stilinski]

I would absolutely LOVE to request a buzzcut stiles smut omg😭

If you are comfortable and if this is not too much detail could you write something about Stiles being insecure of his buzzcut thinking it makes him unattractive but when he tells his other bsf/reader she’s like flabbergasted and tells him how hot it makes him and it makes him all cocky. Then he’d probably like ask her is she’s serious and when she says yes finally act on his feelings. Maybe soft smut? If that is okay

HALLELUIAH YES GAWDDDD i love this sm omg

☆

stiles frowns at his reflection. scott is ranting in the school bathroom again, but it's all stuff stiles has already heard before and he's distracted anyway. he runs an absent hand over his short hair before following a still-rambling scott out of the bathroom and down the hall.

it's been getting on his nerves lately, how slow his hair is growing. he thought it was pretty cool at first, until he was slapped in the face with the reality of his best friend getting girls left and right and leaving stiles completely dry. not that it's scott's fault- he's just easy to get jealous of with this kind of thing.

"dude, are you even listening?" scott abruptly stops and whirls on stiles. "you've been dead silent for, like, three minutes."

"yeah, i heard you. but it's a little hard to care about your girlfriend strife when she actively wants to sleep with you. speaking of,"

allison is leaning against a locker, watching scott with a dreamy look. she waves and smiles softly, leaving scott to return the smile-wave combo with a lot less charisma.

"listen," stiles sighs, trying to keep the bite of envy out of his tone, "you probably just need to talk to her. girls love confidence. just, i dunno," he waves wildly with his hands. "do that."

scott squints at him. "i think that might be the worst advice you've ever given me."

"worse than killing derek?"

"possibly. now, i'm gonna go-" scott throws a look towards allison and swallows thickly, "figure that out. i'll see you."

stiles calls after him; "don't be an idiot! remember i'm living vicariously through you right now!"

once scott and allison are far enough down the hall, he rubs a hand over his hair again and huffs. stupid, stupid freshman stiles and his bad hair decisions.

"you're gonna rub right through your skull."

"GAH!" stiles jumps back from you, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. you laugh at him behind your hand, looking up through your pretty lashes. "jesus, your footsteps are like feathers. i need to put a bell on you."

that makes you frown, shoulder-checking him as you start walking. "you're just not used to anything other than two-left-feet scott mccall. i have perfectly regular footsteps."

he jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the school parking lot, eyeing your choice of shorts. your legs being out is a big plus for his racing mind today.

"hey, you busy today? scott ditched me to go play loverbirds and i don't want to do my homework." he hums, pushing one of the heavy doors open and letting you through.

"hmm, that depends, do you have food at your house?"

"not even a little," he smirks at the almost-yes as you both trot through the empty lot towards his jeep. "that's why we're getting drive thru."

"who's paying?"

"who do you think?"

you cheer excitedly as he unlocks the jeep.

☆

you're sat criss-cross on stiles' bed as he paces, tracking his movement with your eyes. he's on a tangent about scott, actually, and how his decision-making skills are subpar. you're listening intently with a tilted head, watching his hands flex as he talks, and the way his biceps bulge without his flannel on, and how his jawline is so sharp-

"and girls are confusing, y'know? sorry, no offense, it's just-" this catches your attention, making your eyes flit up to his as they dart around the room. "it's just that you're all so... so... what do you guys even want? can't be money, because scott has a girlfriend. can't be personality, because jackson has a girlfriend. definitely can't be looks, because i'm pretty sure greenburg is going out with abby right now."

he sighs and turns on you, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed. his brow is upturned, eyes pleading, lips parted.

"it's this stupid buzzcut, isn't it?"

you blink, just once, before squinting. "what?"

"my hair, it's so-" he pushes a frustrated hand through it, and his jaw clenches. "so not hot."

and when he says it, with his narrowed eyes all sharp and his pink lips pressed together, you think for a moment he must be joking. "...what?"

he turns his glare onto you. "you know what i mean, okay? it's unattractive, it must be. i mean, i go completely unnoticed-"

"wait, you actually mean to tell me you think your buzzcut is ugly?"

stiles huffs, clearly not liking the bluntness of his feelings being laid out. "that it makes me ugly, yeah."

this makes you pause. maybe you're a minority, but when stiles drives his jeep and starts talking fast about something nerdy, you imagine climbing into his lap and making him crash the car. one time you two were arguing while he was in his lacrosse uniform and you genuinely wanted to offer to suck his dick. and even right now, with his too-tight t-shirt and his frustrated face, you want to ask him to take his frustration out on you... in- in a hot way. you may have gone a little far with that one-

"would you stop looking at me like that?" he snips, eyes darting over your whole face and then your body like he's looking for the off switch. you frown up at where he stands.

"like what? i'm just in disbelief."

he rolls his eyes. "like you're gonna tackle me. it's weird, after what i just told you."

"well, maybe i do want to tackle you." oh shit, that was supposed to stay in your head! quick, make it look like it was on purpose! "the buzzcut doesn't make you ugly."

his face screws up in confusion. "well, then, what does it make me?"

"hot."

you both kinda falter, like there's nowhere to go from here. his mouth gapes open and you watch his cheeks grow pinker, much similar to your own. and since you've already dug the hole and he doesn't seem too bothered, you make it an inch or two deeper.

"you're pretty hot, stiles. i mean, you hang around scott and stay in your room, so it's not like you're around enough girls for them to tell you. and you never ask me, so... that's probably why you're unaware."

he gapes at you, a hand going to his hair like it has a whole new purpose to him. "i didn't know asking you was an option...."

"apparently it is." you shrug. your oversized t-shirt and shorts suddenly seem not pretty enough for where this conversation seems to be going, but it's too late to linger on that thought now. anyway, his eyes are on you like sniper lasers... or something... and he takes another step closer to you.

"okay, um... i'm asking you."

you raise your eyebrows. what, he just wants you to lament on how sexy he is? you're not that easy, he's probably going to use that information to chase the skirts of some long, skinny-legged girl at school. besides, there's not even that much to-

"please." he hums.

you swallow, turning your face away from him. "okay, well, you've got the whole secretly smart guy thing going on. and your nose is really nice. mix that with the way your eyes are...-"

"my eyes are what?"

you glance up to glare at his impatience. he tilts his head at you, and you swear you can see a mischievous glint in those stupid, stupid (aggravatingly sexy) eyes. bastard.

"they're, um, provocative. when you're frustrated. or focused." you turn your eyes awayyyy from his reaction, for your own safety. "and your jaw is nice, so. plus your hands-"

"my hands?"

"are you gonna keep interrupting me? 'cause i'll stop." you gripe up at him, but looking back up was a big mistake. his cheeks are tinted pink but his mouth is quirked up into a knowing little smirk, like your embarrassment is suddenly clay for him to play with. yeah, no. you are not getting stuck in this position with stiles. "okay, yeah, that's enough."

"no, nonononono wait." he crosses the rest of the distance to crouch in front of the bed, looking up at you. "i'm sorry. i'm just not used to this. or you, like this." his hand rests atop your knee. "i won't even react. keep going, just a bit?"

you pout and look at his hand as his thumb rubs back and forth on your bare skin. it's warm and relaxing and makes your whole body burn hot when his hand inches up your thigh just barely. you look back up at him, but his face is earnest, promising. you sigh.

"your buzzcut makes you look good."

his eyebrows inch up his forehead.

"really good."

stiles grins.

☆

you're not really sure if you left stiles' house or escaped it, after that. all you know is that last night did some serious damage to your ego... and some serious maintenance to his. as you leave school, your mind replays the series of events and the blush that has been plaguing your cheeks and making you overheat returns.

dammit! you had to avoid stiles all day because of this stupid embarrassment. which proved difficult, since you guys had plenty of classes together and ate lunch with each other every day since forever. you slap your cheeks as you shoulder your way past the school doors and into the parking lot, glancing over at the field where lacrosse practice is in full swing.

your eyes catch on something odd, and coach's voice fades into the background when the image registers in your mind. stiles is leaning on the fence with his helmet in hand, sweat making his skin glow and a cocky look on his face. he's leaned over the fence, chatting up three soccer girls, who all seem very interested in whatever he's saying.

this, unfortunately, does not make you happy. but alas, what are you going to do? pull him away by the ear and chastise him for... talking to girls? you just wish you hadn't said anything about his stupid buzzcut (which looks unrealistically good with his lacrosse uniform).

all three of the girls throw their heads back laughing. and it's not even, like, pretty girl flirtatious laughter. it's loud, and one of the girls slaps her friend's arm. you want to rip the arm off.

but you keep walking instead, because you decided the bus was too much and walking home was the best option. better than standing in the parking lot, staring like a creep as your best friend (who you want to messy-make-out with) finally gets girls (who you want dead).

this is going to be a pathetic walk home.

you barely get to the end of the parking lot when you hear stiles shout your name as loud as he can.

part of you wants to stomp your feet and cry, or ignore him (as if the echo didn't reverberate off of the school building), or flip him off. like a middle schooler. because right now, you don't want to deal with the humiliation of telling stiles (through mumbles and attitude) how hot he is and how badly you want him to fuck you into his mattress, only for him to use you as matchmaker for hotter, more experienced girls.

but you're not a child, and he's still your best friend. plus, his lacrosse uniform.... yum.

jesus christ, you need a drink. there is no way that thought just consciously happened.

you drag your feet walking back, and the soccer girls skip off with their ponytails swinging. stiles is smiling all big and bright when you finally reach him. you are not smiling at all. "you needed me?"

"yeah, i wanted to know if you were coming over tonight." he stands taller than you, and his buzzcut looks so touchable right now, you want to bend him down to your level and run your fingers through it. you blink up at him as you stare, and the silence stretches. his hand comes up to the back of his neck. "uhh, just 'cause i could help you with the homework we skipped yesterday-" he interrupts himself. "are you okay?"

"i'm fine. for both. the homework and the question." you press your thumb into your palm and turn towards the lacrosse field, away from his searching eyes and worried lips. "see you tomorrow, yeah?"

you start to back away from him when he steps forward, the fence catching him from coming closer to you. "well i just- you should come over. i want you to."

"stiles, i can't wait for lacrosse practice to end-"

"i'll skip. they don't even need me." he clenches his jaw when you look back at him. there's a determination in his eyes you've never seen directed at you, and it makes your stomach flip. you've never fell victim to being his prey before, when he wants something so he gets it. the feeling is unrivaled. his lips part. "please."

you can feel your cheeks flush. why does that always have to work on you?

"okay, alright, no need to beg." you nod your head to his jeep, on the far side of the parking lot. "let's go."

he does a subtle fist pump that he doesn't think you see, and hops the fence to follow you, leaving literally everything in the locker room except his car keys. "how was your day?"

you glance up at him, but only for a second when you see how he's staring. all curious and excited, probably from the attention he was getting from those soccer girls. your lips press together in distaste before you even realize.

"it was fine." you shrug, watching as he gets ahead of you to open the passenger door. "got an A on mrs. martin's project."

stiles hums in approval, which may or may not make your lower stomach fizz with butterflies. then he closes your door and makes the short jog to his side, clambering inside. "good job. you hungry?"

you shake your head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doing your best to ignore the vein in his neck when he looks over his shoulder as he backs out, hand resting on your seat. yeah, you totally don't notice that. "no thanks, i'm okay."

"are you sure? i didn't see you at lunch. or english. or-"

"i wasn't feeling well today."

this shuts him up, but not in a good way. you feel his eyes on you, even as he drives, and it makes you squirm a bit. but he doesn't comment on your icy tone, and you drive the rest of the way in silence.

☆

in fact, you're silent all the way up to his room, where you toss your bag in the corner and toe your shoes off. stiles huffs out a sigh and scrubs over his buzzcut self-consciously, tracking you with his eyes as you trail aimlessly around his room and admire the things on his walls.

he's been dying to ask it. he has to. the girls on the soccer team said... he squeezes his eyes shut while you're turned away, repeating what they said to him in his head for nth time. just be honest, and confident. that's what you'd want.

stiles takes bold strides across the room right up to you. he gives you enough room to turn around and face him, but not much more.

"hey."

you scrunch your face up just a bit in confusion. "...hi?"

he clears his throat, his jaw flexing on it's own accord. "the...- okay, when you said my buzzcut makes me look really good-"

"stiles," you scoff and push past him, walking to the middle of his room as a means of escape. "i'm not doing this with you."

"no, wait, doing what?" he scurries around you to face you again, holding you lightly by the shoulders. "waitwaitwait. you gotta let me-"

"no. stop." you're embarrassed, he can tell now. the way you turn your face away and narrow your brow, he never knew he'd be able to read you so well. but he's doing it now, and he's not happy with what he's seeing.

"no, you stop. let me ask you what i want to ask, alright?" he huffs through his nose, and watches as you seem to come to attention. it gives him an odd thrill to see you react so readily when he corrects you. "are you gonna listen to me?"

you glare up at him for a second too long before nodding slowly. he nods too, and in a impatient, annoyed tone, he grumbles: "good."

and then stiles watches your eyes flicker as you fluster much more than he expected. he didn't think much of the words when he was saying them, but here you both are, weirdly into it. he blinks hard to clear his head.

"when you said my buzzcut makes me look 'really good'," he repeats, "did you mean really good to you or to other people?"

he feels you shift your weight by the movement of your shoulders. looking away, you hum, "i don't understand why this is important to you."

stiles narrows his eyes. "yes you do. you know you're into me and you just wont say it."

you snap your eyes to his and take a challenging step forward. "who said i'm into you? just because i said you're good looking doesn't mean you get to use me as some matchmaking machine. i won't inflate your ego just so you can hook up with popular girls, stiles. you can't-"

"i'm not asking so you can inflate my ego." stiles takes a step towards you, making you step back. "i'm asking because i want to know if you were serious." another step. "because i want you to think that about me." another step, and your back hits the wall.

you watch, doe eyed, as stiles brings a hand up to push some of your hair away from your face. his eyes meet yours, but dip down when your lips part. he swallows.

"so," stiles hums, towering over you. "were you being serious?"

stiles watches in awe as your pretty mouth forms around his new favorite word.

"yes."

he half expects himself to tear both of your clothes off and go wild. but his body moves on its own accord; taking your face gently in his hands, kissing you like you're made of glass. when you reciprocate eagerly, he feels his pants start to strain. fuck. seriously? can you please pretend you've had at least some action before?

he can't believe he has to talk his dick down when he's kissing you.

pressing you back up against his bedroom wall, he feels goosebumps rise as your nails rake lightly over his buzz, and it makes him hum. stiles gently removes one hand from the curve of your jaw and slides it onto your hip instead. he loves your hips. he loves them even more when his hands are on them, apparently, because the feeling of it is otherworldly.

what's even better, though, is when your tongue collides with his and you let out a small noise. it's high-pitched and whiney, and it almost makes him finish prematurely. he licks eagerly into your mouth to try and draw it out of you again, but you seem to silence yourself from embarrassment. this does not fly with stiles. his knee draws forward and splits your thighs apart, resting in between them, and he moves down to kiss at your neck. he'll make you whine again, he's sure of it.

"wait," you breathe out. he almost doesn't catch it, too busy with the way your skin feel on his lips and how he has you up against his wall, breathless and pliant. but he pulls back (albeit reluctantly) and meets your dazed look with one of his own.

"what? is this okay? do you wanna stop?" he might actually die on the spot if you want to stop. but he'd do it, for you. his hand massages your hip where he's got you gently pinned, and he watches as it visibly makes you sway (swoon, but you'd never admit that).

"no, no. but, your dad-"

"he's out."

"he could get home anytime."

"we can be quick. we don't have to do anything more than this right now."

"stiles," you're laughing at him. it's airy, and mostly just a teasing smile, but you're still laughing at him. "are you just saying that to get me in your bed? i mean..."

your thigh, which is in between his because of his being in between yours, slides up and presses lightly against his hard-on. his jaw goes slack as the unexpected pressure washes pleasure all over his nerves, and his shoulders bend over for a moment as his hips react on their own. he stops himself, thoroughly embarrassed, and glares at you. you giggle behind your hand, raising an eyebrow. "how're you gonna say you don't want anything below the collar with that going on?"

he pushes your thigh away, shaking his head. "i never said i didn't want anything more, i said we don't have to do anything more. plus, you're the one making the noises and touching me and... so, if anything, this isn't even my fault." stiles gestures vaguely to his dick.

"i'm flattered." you deadpan, before your hand trails from his chest to his stomach. he watches in awe, still half disbelieving that he got you here. you hook your fingers into his waistband and look up at him. "promise your dad wont walk in on us?"

"can you not talk about my dad while turning me on?" he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "swear on my life, you have nothing to worry about."

you nod and lean back against the wall, tugging him by his pants to meet you there. he follows suit, lining his body against yours as he kisses you, hands on your hips with yours running through his buzz. he captures your lower lip in his teeth and gently as he can, and you make another short, high-pitched noise again. his dick twitches in his pants.

"you wanna, um," you suck in a breath as he kisses your neck, "move to the bed?"

"yes," he sighs, and immediately pulls your hips forward and directs you to his bed. when you drop onto it and scoot back, stiles hesitates. your hair is a bit messy, lips are full, and your eyes have a glint in them he's never seen before. he's assaulted with the thought of you being his wife and having his kids and growing old and dying together, and then he blinks it away. jesus christ, you're a powerful woman.

he wants to do anything to make you look like this all the time. needy, pretty, all your insecurities and doubts kissed right off of your lips, even if it's just for a bit. is this what being horny is going to be like for him now? is he gonna be a sap when you want to fuck?

stiles crawls over you slowly, laying you back against his pillows. you're excited and it shows, and you're both smiling when he kisses you this time.

☆

he's a mess for days after, head full of the faces you make when he touches you just right, the noises coming from your mouth when you finish. the feeling of skin on skin, the picture perfect look of you wearing his shirt after. it takes scott about two and a half seconds to scrunch up his nose and make a disgusted face at stiles when he starts thinking it. your beauty is just seeping out of him, like he soaked you up and now every werewolf in a one hundred mile radius can smell the lovesick puppy on him.

you want to go on dates, too. real ones, all the time, and you think he's hot and cute and sometimes pretty, which is confusing to him but he likes it anyway. and he wants to save up his money so he can take you to a fancy restaurant. and he is so whipped.

which he's fine with. as long as it's for you. honestly, he's fine with almost anything, as long as it's for you.

☆

i didn't write smut and i apologize but my writing process is to blackout while my fingers fly across my keyboard like i'm a hacker spy until i come to and there's a story on the screen. so. smut didn't happen naturally so it ain't gonna happen at all, i guess. i dunno. ask writing star, not editing star. sorry i've been so absent, holidays is super busy with extended family and such. wish me luck. xoxo!!!

☆

BONUS!! stiles asks some poor soccer girls for help before you went to his house after lacrosse practice. the advice is... really somethin'.

"hey, um, lily?" he had to guess the name of the girl jogging past, but he got it right. she stopped and approached him skeptically, glancing at her two friends in front of her.

"yeah?" she threaded her fingers through the fence as he strided the rest of the distance to her. her two friends had begun making their way over as well. she had to squint past the sun as she stared at him. "what's up?"

"hi, hey, we have bio together. fourth period? i've sat behind you all sememster?"

her face showed no recognition.

"...anyway, i have a question. actually, i can ask all three of you. since you're, um, girls."

her two friends had approached at that point, and looked equally as put off by stiles as lily did. he cleared his throat and started on his ramble:

"so, let's say i'm best friends with this girl, and i like her. like, a lot. and she's kinda totally way out of my leauge, but we never talk about it because she doesn't see things like that anyway. and one day i get on a rant about girls and how confusing they are because, y'know," he gestured to his face like it was a tell of itself, "and she says that my biggest insecurity- err, physically- is actually really hot. and she says my hands are sexy. and my eyes are seductive. and she's like, kinda blushing a lot? but she blushes anyway about stuff around me so it doesn't really-"

"she likes you." one of lily's friends piped up behind her. "if that's what you're asking."

"are you sure? i'm not her type, plus-"

"dude," sighed the other one. the three girls shared a look, making stiles gulp. "girls don't call guys' hands sexy unless they're dying to have them in their mouth."

"mazie!" lily whirled around to slap her friend's shoulder, which did absolutely nothing to censor her. when she turned back to stiles, it was apologetically. "sorry, but she's got a point."

he slumped onto the fence in relief. "you think so? i want to put my hands in her mouth, if she's asking for that."

"nice." mazie nodded as the other two girls made noises of disgust. ignoring them, mazie continued. "honestly, she probably likes you but thinks you don't like her. especially if you're chatting up three soccer girls, looking like that."

the only girl stiles hadn't gotten the name of nodded solemly, and lily put her hands on her hips, determined. "okay, skinhead. how're you gonna confess?"

stiles smiles awkwardly. "uh, i'll just tell her when she comes over tonight?"

lily barked out a laugh, and her two friends followed suit. it was loud, like three crows making fun of him while they toss their heads back. it ended abruptly, too, and lily glared daggers at him in the silence. "no, idiot."

stiles whimpered a little "oh."

"girls love confidence." the unnamed girl declared, tilting her head. "when i flirt with girls i always make them like, say how hot i am. always gets them going."

"god," lily scrunched her nose, "are you both ovulating? we do not need to know all of that."

"so... what should i do?" stiles blinked at them, and they refocused their attention on him.

"be confident. be honest. that's always a rare, and hot, trait in a guy." lily said, before her eyes roved over him analytically. "anyway, you're attractive. it'll be fine."

"he's attractive?" the unnamed girl said, making all three of them laugh again. lily slapped her arm, and stiles let himself get distracted as his eye caught on someone walking across the parking lot.

oh, it's you.

his body feels a bit warmer, buzzing with nervous energy, as he shouts your name.

☆

[mystic-writings]

just a twisted ankle | newt

PAIRING – newt x fem!reader

REQUEST – @heliads - hi monty!! saw you wanted some newt requests so i simply could not hold back. could i please request a newt x reader fic in which newt and reader are both track-hoes and obviously in love with each other but pining in silence? alby and minho are doing their best to get them together but they're both excruciatingly oblivious lmao. thank you so much!!

SUMMARY – you and an overly protective newt are in love. the only problem seems to be that everyone but you and him are aware of it.

WARNINGS – weird behavior, obliviousness, fluff, semi-crack?, friends to lovers, minor injury

WORD COUNT – 3,031

NOTES – AAAA this has been in my requests for forever and i’m just now writing it?? i absolutely loved writing this and a big big thanks to @shmaptainwrites for being my lovely beta reader!

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There were very few downsides to being a Track-hoe. You enjoyed being outdoors all day, breathing in the fresh air and the amazing smell of fresh plants, chatting with your fellow track-hoes and generally enjoying yourself.��

The main issue you had was the dirt. 

Sure, it was essential to your job, but it was the worst possible thing about it. You didn’t even mind the sweat and aching muscles most of the time, because that just meant a job well done. But the dirt? If you could plant and grow things without it, you would. The way it stuck to your clothes, your skin. How it buried itself into your pores and underneath your fingernails and took forever to scrub off your skin. 

The biggest upside, however, was Newt. 

You’d been here almost 2 years, and he was quite possibly your favorite person in the Glade. He was the first person besides Alby to reach out and connect with you, not really caring or fearing the fact that you were, and still are, the only girl. Minho was the second person to do the same. 

Newt, over time, had become your biggest confidant about almost everything. You spent pretty much all of your spare time with him, and he with you. After long days, you’d take the time after dinner to walk around the Glade. Sometimes you’d talk, and sometimes you’d just enjoy one another’s presence. Everyone knew not to mess with you, and the Greenies that didn’t usually learned their lesson pretty quickly. 

You liked to call him your protector with a smile, mostly because he’d always flush bright red at the compliment. 

It’d been a few days since the box came up, and the newest Greenie, Jason, was still getting his bearings around the Glade. He’d only learned his name yesterday, and that was after he threw up watching Winston show him how the slicers do their jobs. Today, he was with you and the other Track-hoes. 

He’d been mostly hovering near Zart and Newt, who were showing him the ropes. You, however, caught him glancing over at you a few too many times. It was normal for a Greenie, and for you, since you were the only girl. But it didn’t stop you from feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

Jason had been staring at you — as Zart was showing him how to de-weed the vegetables — until Newt clapped him on the shoulder. Faintly, you could hear them talking. 

“Stop staring, mate. Focus on the job.” Newt said, his tone laced with that all-too-familiar protectiveness. It made you smile, the way his eyes pierced into Jason’s and struck him with a fear he seemed to make all the Greenies feel when it came to you. 

After a while, you felt Jason resume his staring, even after Newt’s ‘warning’. You knew that he’d learn sooner or later, you just hoped it was the latter. While you were digging up some carrots, knowing it would take you forever to clean under your fingernails before dinner, Newt’s shadow blocked your view of the sun, forcing you to look up at him.

“Come on,” he nodded to the deadheads. “Zart said we need more fertilizer.” 

Extending a hand upward, Newt pulled you to your feet before handing you the second bucket. As you departed from the gardens, you swung the empty bucket and sighed. “I don’t know why he never just sends one of us. There’s no way this is a two person job.” 

“I’ve stopped questioning Zart,” Newt shrugged. “He’s the Keeper, what he says, goes. That’s all.”

Contemplating Newt’s words, you looked up at the leaves for a moment and tripped on a root. Newt barely caught you as you lurched forward, both buckets landing on the forest floor. “Besides, I think if you tried to do this yourself, you’d trip and break your neck.” 

“Well,” you exaggerated a sigh, “can’t have that, can we?”

Newt shook his head, grabbing the buckets. “No, we can’t.” 

After making it to the fertilizer pile and back with no further injury, the day carried on as normal. Newt and Zart continued training and carefully watching the Greenie to see if he was exactly up for the job of Track-hoe. 

By the time the dinner bell rang, you were exhausted. You felt like this most days, but today you had to devote more energy than usual on making sure the Greenie wasn’t staring at you as if you’d solve all of his problems just by talking to him. 

You and Newt took off at the same time, chatting about the Greenie and whether he was good for the Track-hoes or not. “I hope not,” you groaned. “He keeps staring at me. He’d spend more time looking at me than doing his actual job if he got put with us.”

“I know,” Newt chuckled. “I spent the day with the poor shank. You have no idea how many times I had to divert his attention back to his work, it was unbelievable.”

You shook your head. “Trust me, I know. I could feel him staring at me all damn day.” 

The dining hall was already pretty full of Gladers, milling about or grabbing food or sitting down. Quickly, you could smell Frypan’s beef stew wafting from the pots on the table. Your stomach suddenly felt empty, and you couldn’t wait to pour yourself a bowl. You and Newt moved in tandem, pouring out soups into your own bowls from ladles hooked on the edge of the metal pots and grabbing cups of water from the table beside you. 

Minho was already sitting at your usual table, peacefully eating his soup amid the usual chaos. Joining him, you and Newt sat across from him, digging into your food. Minho usually ate in silence, with the exception of joking around when the others got to the table, so you didn’t mind listening to the din of the conversations happening around you for a little while.

Soon, Frypan joined Minho’s side of the table, already boasting about how well received the stew was. Just as he was about to ask how everyone liked it, and as you were spooning more into your mouth, Jason approached your and Minho’s end of the table. 

“Hi.” He said, entire body stiff, as if unclenching his muscles would make him disappear. 

“...Hello?” You replied. “Is there something you need, Greenie?”

Jason laughed, but it sounded more like he was choking. “No, no. I just— I, um, I was wondering—”

“Cool it, slinthead,” Minho interrupted. “You’re not going to get anywhere with Y/n, here. She and Newt are practically married, even if they don’t know they are.”

With a disgruntled air around him, Jason admitted defeat and left the table to go find somewhere to eat his dinner. 

You furrowed your brows at Minho. “Me and Newt aren’t married, what the shuck was that all about?”

As if things couldn’t get worse, Gally stepped up to the table on Newt’s other side. “Are we talking about you and Newt? Have you finally gotten your clunk together and started dating? Because I’ve been waiting for this for almost two years.” 

“Nah,” Frypan said. “They’re too scared to admit something like that, Gally. You know that.” 

“Yeah, and it’s getting on all of our nerves.” Minho said. “It irritates me more than the Newbies do.”

“Could you stop talking about us like we’re not here?” Newt snapped. “It’s really annoying.” 

The group exchanged looks and you couldn’t help but smile. The rest of the dinner passed, and soon Alby joined you at Frypan’s side. The conversation flowed, as per usual, and you were able to let go of the pain your joints carried as you went back for a second helping and relaxed with your friends until sundown. 

It was no surprise that Newt left when you did in order to walk you back to your room in the Homestead, where he bid you goodnight and headed to his own just down the hall. Just as he reached the door, though, he turned back and walked over to you. 

“Just letting you know,” he began, “The Greenie’s staying on as a track-hoe tomorrow. Alby doesn’t want him doing a trial as a Medjack just yet. But I won’t be there either. Me and Gally have to be in the council hall tomorrow to talk with some of the other Keepers about scheduling. Stay safe, please.” 

You giggled. “Don’t worry, Newt, I’ll be just fine. The most that Greenie’s gonna do is stare at me, and I can’t die from something like that. Plus, I’ll have Zart and the other Track-hoes with me for the day.”

He sighed, almost reluctant to go most of the day without you. “I’ll see you at breakfast then?”

“Yes, you will.” You nodded. “And dinner. Now go to sleep, Newt.” 

With another goodnight, you and Newt headed into your respective rooms to settle in and go to bed, an unusual day ahead of you.

Despite waking up and starting your day with Newt as you usually would, it felt odd to split from him after Frypan served breakfast. It felt odd to not turn to him for casual conversation as you de-weeded the tomatoes and harvested carrots for tonight’s dinner — some sort of fried rice, you remember Frypan telling you at dinner last night. 

Your day passed in relative silence aside from occasional chatter with the track-hoes or receiving orders from Zart. You avoided Jason as best as you could, and it seemed his embarrassment from last night still lingered as he was determined to stay on the opposite side of the field, despite still staring at you when he got the chance. 

Sometime near the end of the day, you’d run out of fertilizer, and as usual Zart had sent you with both buckets to refill them. The trek was definitely boring without Newt to talk to, but you managed to fill both buckets and head most of the way back without incident, injury, or going crazy in the silence of the deadheads. 

However, your luck was bound to run out at some point. 

Just as the rays of sunshine were poking out from the field ahead, you tripped on a particularly large tree root sticking out of the ground. Both buckets flung from your hands as you stuck them out, attempting to break your own fall. Pain radiated from your ankle, palms, and wrists as you landed harshly on the ground, staining your clothes and skin with dirt. 

After you processed what happened and pulled yourself up, you first inspected your palms. Wiping away the dirt, several scrapes and cuts revealed themselves, accompanied by irritated and angry skin surrounding them. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you tried your best to stand, but crumbled when you put weight on your right foot. 

Hissing, you pulled up your pant leg and tried to touch around the area, only bringing yourself more pain as you did so. Figuring out how to get out of here was going to be difficult, especially without abandoning the buckets of fertilizer. After some time, you managed to find a particularly large stick to support the weight you would’ve put on your injured foot, hooked one bucket handle on the crook of your elbow, and took the other in your free hand. 

As best as you could manage, you brought the fertilizer to Zart, who quickly took notice of your condition. 

“What the shuck happened to you?!” He exclaimed as you shifted your weight. 

Looking down at your foot, you sighed. “A large tree root got the jump on me, Zart. Now will you please help me to the Medjacks so I don’t have to use this shucking stick anymore?”

Almost jumping into action, Zart wrapped an arm around your torso and pulled your right one around his neck, helping you along to the other side of the Glade. You were beginning to see now why he usually sent Newt with you. 

Upon reaching the Medjack hut, Clint and Jeff took over for Zart, ushering him away to get back to work. You were grateful for the Medjacks and the care they seemed to take with you. They made sure it was relatively painless for you as Clint examined your ankle and Jeff cleaned the cuts on your palms, keeping casual conversation with you as they did so. 

It was only as Clint was wrapping your ankle — Jeff already having done so with the heels of your palms — that Newt came barrelling into the room. 

“We were wondering where you were,” Jeff quipped as he put away the roll of gauze he’d just used. 

Newt ignored the other two people in the room and came to sit on the edge of your bed. “What the bloody hell happened to you?”

“It’s not like I almost died, Newt.” You told him, but let him take your hands into his to look at. “I was getting the fertilizer from the deadheads and tripped on a root. It’s nothing more than a twisted ankle, I promise.”

“You promised you’d be fine today without me.” Newt corrected you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“And I was. I just lost my footing to a root. I’ll be back up and running in a few days. Right, Clint?”

The boy at the end of the bed nodded, taping the tensor bandages into place. “Exactly. After three days of no work and constant elevation, you’ll be just fine.”

Newt looked back at the boy. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Clint said. “I’ll even have Jeff come check up on her twice a day to make sure her foot heals. Okay?”

Newt considered Clint’s words for a moment before nodding. “Alright.” 

Soon enough, the Medjack’s left you and Newt alone in the treatment room. It was silent, and Newt still held your bandaged hands in his, not daring to say a word. 

“Are you okay?” You asked eventually, feeling that you’d studied the boy’s face enough to gather that he was still deeply upset and in thought. 

Newt’s eyes snapped from your hands to make eye contact with you, and you could see the emotion pooling in his dark irises. “I dunno. I know it’s stupid, you’ll be fine, but… you were hurt. On the one day I wasn’t there with you.”

Turning your hands over in his, you grabbed his palms and squeezed. “But I’ll be fine, Newt. Look, I’m still healthy, aren’t I? Breathing, talking. That’s what matters. And it’s not your fault, it was just a silly accident.” 

“I know, I just… the thought of you getting hurt makes me want to go crazy.” Newt admitted. “You being safe is all I care about.” 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as your face warmed. “I… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.” 

“You do.” Newt stated. “You mean that much to me.” 

“Newt…” you whispered. “I think those slintheads were right.”

His face scrunched up. “What d’you mean?”

“I think… I think I like you. A lot more than I realized.” You gathered more courage with every word you spoke. “Newt… I think I’m in love with you.” 

You watched his eyes widen as you spoke, hands still interlocked. Newt seemed to be stunned by your impromptu confession, and even you were surprised by it. Up until ten seconds ago, you were unaware of how big your feelings for Newt were, but now that they were out in the open, it was easy to see as you looked back on things. Your thoughts ran at a hundred miles a second, flashing with the memories you made with Newt and how close you’d gotten over the past few years.  

It took you a second to pull away from the memories and realize that Newt had yet to respond. 

“Newt?” You called out, trying to get his attention. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Look, we don’t have to do anything about it, we can forget it ever happened—”

“No.” Newt interrupted. “I don’t want to do that.” He adjusted his grip on your hands, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. “I… I love you, too. I think I have from the moment I met you.” 

Your lips stretched into a wide, blissful smile, and Newt’s expression soon matched yours. Slowly, he leaned in closer to you, shortening the distance until his lips were inches from yours. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

“I’d like nothing more,” you told him, and in seconds, his lips were on yours and your hand was touching the back of his neck and you were both in a state of bliss you could only dream of until now. 

You spent the next few hours with Newt, who sat next to you on the bed with an arm around your shoulders, talking mostly about how you both failed to notice your feelings toward each other for so long, occasionally disrupted by mini-makeouts. When the dinner bell rang, Newt promised to explain your injury to your friends and bring dinner for you both to eat in the Medjack hut. 

When Newt came back, two steaming bowls of chicken rice in hand, the blush on his face was unmistakable. 

“What happened?” You laughed as he passed you the bowl and sat on the bed. “What did they say to you?”’

“They didn’t say anything.” Newt corrected you. “They heard about my hauling ass across the Glade to get here from the council hall, that’s what. And they basically figured us out.” 

“Really?” You fake gasped. “It’s like they’ve been trying to tell us about this for the past two years or something.”

“Ha, ha,” Newt rolled his eyes. “Eat your rice. After you’re finished, I’ve got to take you to the Homestead.” 

“My hero,” you smiled, and Newt couldn’t help but to kiss you once more before you both dug into your meals. 

Once your ankle was healed, it was no surprise the uproar your friends caused when you were finally able to walk to breakfast hand in hand with Newt. After all, they had been waiting years for this.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

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[rinnstars]

soulmates!

matching puzzle pieces: mimicking you unconsciously away from home

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, drabble, pro!player rin (after nel arc), long distance relationship, yearning/longing, not proofread + likes and reblogs are appreciated!

one thing rin has learnt whilst overseas is that you and him might really be connected by souls, by ribs, and by heart perhaps too.

strict routines he’s stuck to since he was just fourteen — wake up, open the windows, take deep breaths, stretching, yoga, mediation shifted in its own ways to accommodate you back when he had first gotten together with you: to waking up and looking at you with the light outside from the windows shining perfectly at your face that makes him gulp a little, staring hard and long whilst tracing your face as gently as possible, indulging in the sugary-sweet moment before returning back to his routine like a robot. its what he’s used to, what he’s comfortable enough, what he knows. and recently, he’s been mimicking you, he thinks: closing his eyes immediately at the bright light in his room the same way you bury your face in his face when you first wake up away from the “bright” lights in his room, drinking a cup of coffee that he swore he wouldn’t drink despite making it for you every morning like clockwork albeit with much less sugar than you would have added, and opening his phone the first thing he does right after it all the same way you open your phone and flash him essentially in his bedroom with your bright phone screen that illuminates the now matching photo of you and him beaming at the camera the day he left.

maybe its rin’s way of feeling your presence in his life now that its back to before he met you — just him and football, wearing a different but similarly stuffy and claustrophobic football jersey that marks his name at the back of it. bitter coffee that still smells like the kitchen that brings him back memories of you and him attempting to fix the coffee machine whilst laughing together, your smile imprinted in his mind, phone screen that still makes him unconsciously grin even though its been months since he’s left japan of that selfie with yours and his cheeks squished against each other, beaming at the camera as though it would be the last time right before he enters the gate to somewhere else that he wonders if you too look at it a little longer before you enter your phone, or hand sanitizer that smells exactly like the one you used to use, and gave to him whenever you two were out together that reminds him of home, reminds him of you.

and he’s sure his teammates dont miss the subtle changes to him. how his diet has changed strangely — desserts that fill his meal and sweets that he munches on in the dorm room that he used to buy from the convenience store for you to eat together in class and then in his room that tastes a little less sweet now that its not from your mouth to his, hotter food that you’ve made him grown used to in contrast to his old days eating leftovers and microwaveable meals from the fridge that still burns his tongue a little, sticking out his tongue as though he’s on field at the temperature even now the same way you do too, picking at his vegetable unconsciously the same way you do before pushing it onto his plate whilst smiling, each pickled vegetable even now resembling you in his mind as he pushes it around his plate. how he’s behaving all strangely too in contrast to the rin who they met just a few weeks ago at neo egoist league — how he’s more accustomed to laughing in the same tone you do, having to cup his mouth at the realisation, looking away awkwardly before being tackled by shidou (that broke out into half a fight), how he fiddles even more with his things than before as though they were your hands that he finds comfort in interlocking and fiddling with whilst lying right beside yours, how he looks a little longer at his phone screen that almost made shidou grab his phone (to his luck, he managed to dodge the attack and not get into a fight whilst in it: messaging you that as though expecting a praise). or even just the way he talks now — the tone and accent melting and merging into yours and his own mid sentence, your catchphrases popping out of his mouth unconsciously like bubblegum that draws strange looks (they dont understand it, he thinks), references to yours and by extension his favourite games and shows that flies by everyone else’s head that he misses your laugh that should ring along with his lame jokes.

and rin’s even more sure that the media doesnt miss how he’s changed from just that few weeks. how his closet doesn’t quite fit him right — sanrio and chikawa sweaters that are both a little too tight to have belonged to him and a little uncharacteristic for him to sport on his day out, silver necklaces that they just cant see the heart of, chalking it up to a new impulsive purchase despite him never wearing any in his winning match, silly keychains on the bag he brings out that catches the camera flash just right into the newspapers. how his last interview went even: seeming more nervous whilst attempting to make eye contact with the camera (knowing youre watching him live), stuttering a little too much whilst answering a question about romantic relationship, how his glued up paper ring catches the whole internet. how his internet presence (without PR) reflects something the internet wants to dig a little more — from his instagram stories about another game win whether that be on valorant or league of legends with a duo with a censored tag (of yours), screenshots of movies and shows he’s watching with the side of facetime featuring your face censored with colour brushes from the tools section, outfit pictures that are first vetted by you and then posted with a uncharacteristically cute water bottle you bought for him as a joke that he still uses to this very day.

its now that he can’t be fully with you that rin wonders if he’s taken advantage of all these years you’ve been there for him, each memory haunts him through his own unconscious movements, speech and thoughts: as though you’ve fully melted yourself on him, your soul and his intertwined and ribs replacing each others: becoming one another. missing, longing is not a strong enough word for it all — heartache when he lies in his bed all alone yearning for your warmth hands that lingers on his body, cuddling him at night that makes him dream of days long after his career in a small apartment all decorated by whatever you want living a life with just you and him, that tightening of his heart whenever he sees you in his everyday life: those red roses that he used to buy from the school shop, any song form the playlist you and him collated that he plays everyday, every second he can, things you’ve bought for him that he’s brought along this practically eons long trip to france, the dryness in his mouth when he looks at your face through facetime: noting every single changes from the way your fringe has gotten longer, to the small leftover seaweed bites form the corner of your mouth, wondering how you were just so perfect in his eyes. its not human he feels: this hunger and craving he feels deep in his ribs, in his guts, in his very bone and blood, every second he counts, every day he strikes off from his calendar, every football match he wins just for a chance for you and him to reunite.

and this time, he’s sure of one thing, no matter what his PR agency thinks, no matter what fans thinks, no matter what the world thinks: rin wants to kiss you, melting his lips against yours as he holds up the winning world cup trophy, in front of the whole field, in front of the whole audience, in front of the whole world — because if there’s anything he knows now is that you and him are one matching puzzle piece, you and him are one soul merged together dictated by the universe, you and him are meant to be: and he’ll love you for the rest of eternity.

[majesty31]

𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 | 𝙶𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔, 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕. 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚. 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 <𝟑

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆. 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏. 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓?

𝒘𝒂���𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔/𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓, 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒔, 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉, 𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒔, 𝒃𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒔. 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟐.𝟖𝑲

The world felt as if it were spinning- no coming to a complete stop. Time felt as if it wasn't a thing. You stood there like a complete idiot with a knife to your throat as you looked at the man you had come to love other the past three years. Millions of thoughts were coming to your head as everyone around you was yelling, you couldn't hear a word anyone was saying all you could hear were the thoughts running trough your head.

Did he even love you? If he did, wouldn't he give anything to be with you, give anything to have a normal life with you outside of this damn Glade. You knew the reasons for this, he was scared, so scared that everything else was blurred and blocked out. His feelings for you didn't feel as strong when the fear was much stronger. And at this moment you wanted to hate him, you wanted to yell and scream at him to just listen to everyone. Listen to you. But he wouldn't and everyone including yourself knew this.

Your eyes were filled with tears, your heart was going so fast you thought it would rip out of your chest completely and you felt as if the world was ending. You didn't think you'd ever feel so bad in your life, the feeling was far worse than fear, it was far worse than the many panic attacks you've had over the years, it was much worse than millions of stabs, you'd even prefer the stabs, you'd prefer the panic attacks. For anything was better than this.

The moment his eyes connected with yours you knew you would never see him again, you knew he was gone, he was already a dead man. And even the thought of leaving him behind made you want to throw up. The thought of begging him to come with you came across your mind many times but you knew better than to beg a dead man to leave his graveyard.

His hard eyes softened when he saw the pain in your eyes, he knew you wanted to go with them, he knew you wanted him to go with you, he knew it all. But he couldn't see past that damn fear.

"Let her go," His voice came out soft, softer than anything you've ever heard coming from his lips. Your eyes didn't leave his, not even when you felt the knife slowly drop from your throat. And before you could stop yourself you ran up to Gally, your shaking hands grabbing his neck and pulling his face down to meet yours.

His lips collided with yours and he didn't stop you, instead he dropped his knife and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with so much passion you thought that maybe this would change his mind, you thought for sure he loved you. But this kiss was a goodbye and you both knew this.

You gripped his hair tighter, going onto your toes to get more acses to him making his grip on your waist tight, so tight it hurt, but you didn't care. The hurt was nothing compared to what you felt in your heart. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms for the rest of your life, and if you would've known that the last time you'd ever see him smile or laugh was that night you wouldn't have ever looked away.

You pulled away from him, your head leaning on his as he gazed into your eyes. Neither of you said anything, for you both already knew what the other wanted to say. You knew you'd never find another like Gally, and you never wanted to ever try to find someone to replace him. He was the one for you, and now. Now you had to leave him here to die. You were in a nightmare and you were just waiting until the morning came so that you could run back into his arms and everything would be fine again. But that was just a dream at this point. A dream you'd never be able to reach.

You felt cold the second you stepped away from his warm embrace. It took everything in you to keep on moving forward, you didn't even dare to look back. You felt a warm hard on your back right as you rejoined the group of teenagers leaving the Glade.

"It'll be okay," Newt whispered as he wiped your wet face.

The rest of it all came in a blur, you barely remember anything from running in the maze to running from Grievers. And soon you were in a room with dead bodies scattered all over, most due to gun shots. You remembered a video and then your world crashed and crumbed right in front of your eyes.

You remember screams and cries, all coming from you. You remember being pulled away from the only dead body you never wanted to see dead, you remember feeling numb. You remember his face, his eyes. They looked as cold and empty as you felt.

~~~

As the months went on you wished you had never left the Glade in the first place, for the world was nothing any of you expected, it was dark, and dead. Everywhere you looked you saw more and more death, you saw how survival was all anyone ever thought about anymore, your small group seemed to be the only ones who cared about friendship and loyalty.

You were surprised you lasted as long as you did without dying, or without getting the flare but in all honesty it was due to your group, you all saved each other over and over, never leaving anyone behind. So when Minho got captured each and everyone of you wanted to go back fro him, and thats exactly what you did.

You got shoved to the side by Newt as a truck passes by, yours eyes follow it when you see there were about five men sat on top all wearing masks. You start to feel a little uneasy when one of the men doesn't look away from you, his head moving to the side as the truck moves further along the road.

You snap your head back to Newt when he starts walking forward, your eyes roam around, seeing so many people in one spot was rare nowadays and you knew this wouldn't end well, WIKD would never allow it get like this and soon they would put a stop to it.

You saw how Thomas walked ahead of all of you, ignoring Jorge when he tried to stop him, you knew this wasn't the best way to get Minho back but none of you had a better plan so you kept on walking, ignoring the strange feeling in your chest that told you something bad was going to happen.

You looked behind you only to see that same man who you saw on the truck, his eyes were covered by the mask so you didn't know weather or not he was even looking at you, but either or it didn't feel right. Something about him made you feel uneasy, maybe it was his height, he towered over everyone it seemed like, and he had a really good build. He was intimating, and the mask made it worse.

Newt seemed to see this too, he pointed another one out to you, and this made the both of you move faster towards the rest of your group. And before you even realized you were all running again with bombs crashing into the ground all around you.

As you were running you saw someone behind you, you didn't think much of it for everyone was trying to get out before being killed but than you felt strong arms warp around your waist and before you could get out of their grasp they pulled you up.

You screamed and tried hitting the man but he was far too strong. Your wide and worried eyes searched for your friends but you didn't see them anywhere, making fear creep into your body. You turned your head to see it was the same masked man you saw on the truck, his eyes were looking stright ahead and before you knew it you were shoved into a van, hitting the floor with a grunt.

You quickly moved to the back wall when the man got in with you. You looked at them with fear laced in your eyes, there were about three men all in masks and just staring at you. Your breath was coming in and out fast, you looked around trying to see if there was a way out but you knew if you tried they would probably shot you dead.

You jumped when the door slid open but relaxed a little when they threw Thomas in. He was yelling at the man but his yells came to deaf ears when the man shut the door in his face, he turned around, his eyes finding your causing him to relax a little.

You both jerked when the Van started moving, and you tried your best to not freak out. What if they were with Wicked? All kinds of horrible thoughts came to mind but they all vanished when the Van stoped.

Thomas tried to fight off the men when they grabbed him and pulled him out. But due to his fighting they just threw him to the ground. You on the other hand, got out of the van by yourself, your eyes glaring daggers at the man who reached to get you out. But by the look you gave him, he backed away from you.

You ripped your gaze off his, the further you walked the more men you saw, all wearing masks, all carrying weapons, all looking like they could kill you without a single thought, or a single care. Thankfully you saw everyone you came here with, but they were all standing in front of the men, this could very well be your end. And Minho would rot in wicked for who knows how long.

Your heart picked up in pace when a man started talking, his voice was deep but it sounded way too familiar. He was the same man you've been seeing since you got in the city, there was something different about him, but you didn't know what exactly it was.

You could feel Thomas getting impatient the more the man spoke. You cursed to yourself when he finally had enough, pushing the man who was behind him and stepping forward. "What do you mean same side! Who the hell are you?"

Everyone went dead silent, and you could feel yourself holding your breath, waiting for the man to give some kind of reaction, a reaction none of you wanted. But he was quiet for far too long. You furrowed your brows when he turned his head, grabbing his mask with his free hand and pulling it over his head. He looked at the ground for maybe 5 second before turning his head to you all.

Your heart dropped to the ground, the air around you felt thick, and you could feel yourself having trouble breathing. Tears came to your eyes in an instant and every sound around you turned off, all you could hear was a faint buzzing and your pounding heart in your chest.

His eyes connected with yours so fast you thought you had gotten whiplash, you could feel everyones eyes on you, not just Gally's and it was making you feel suffocated. You didn't know what to do, or what to feel. You wanted to cry, yell and scream all at the same time, you wanted to run into his arms and hug him until you died but at the same time you wanted to hit him over and over again for the way he hurt you, and make you leave without him.

But before you could even take a step Thomas lunged forward, hitting Gally straight in the face, hard. So hard Gally fell to the ground with Thomas right on top of him. You wanted to move, run towards them and stop Thomas from hurting him but you couldn't move, no matter how hard you tried too.

Thankfully Newt did it for you, running towards the two boys, he fell beside Thomas, grabbing his hand, stopping him from going further. You could see their lips moving but you didn't know what they were saying, you felt as if you were in a dream, floating out of your body, it didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

Thomas got off him fast, but you could see he was dripping with anger, anger you were slowly starting to feel. Gally got up and off the ground, moving his jaw with his hand before he eyes you again. His gaze softened, his voice dropped in pitch and he looked almost scared.

"Y/N?" Everyone turned to you again, but you didn't even see anyone, all you could see was red as you looked at the boy who was supposed to love you enough to leave with you. But he was a coward then he defiantly was one now.

And before you could stop yourself you moved forward, it all happened so fast as you grabbed the gun for the man behind you, he tried to stop you but you kicked him in the crouch casuing him to fall to the ground.

With the gun in your hands and adrenaline coursing through your veins, you tightened your grip on the firearm, your knuckles white with tension as moved towards Gally who didn't move from where he stood before. He held his head high, his eyes becoming glazed, but he clenched his jaw waiting for you to do what you wanted.

You could hear yelling from everyone behind you, but it was too late. Without a moment's hesitation, you swung the gun, hitting him hard across the temple with the back of the weapon. A sickening thud echoed through the air as the force of the blow sent him reeling backward. His eyes widened in shock, then dulled with pain as he crumpled to the floor.

It fell silent, except for your heavy breaths. You stood over him, chest heaving. The weight of what you had just done settled on your shoulders, but you pushed it away, the anger still seeping in your veins when he looked up at you, his nose bleeding.

You didn't know what was going on around you but whatever it was it died down when Gally raised his hand, telling them it was okay. His breathing came in and out harshly, his eyes connected with yours and the same softness still visible.

"You piece of shit," You breathed out, your voice dripping with hurt and rage. "You shouldn't have come back," Tears filled your vision as you remembered what he did, and how he made you feel. You had woken up screaming and crying because of him, and thinking you saw him die right in your arms. But he wasn't dead, and it was messing with your head, he was messing with your head.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," You let out a small cry at the sound of his voice, or the way your name rolled off his tongue. You didn't think you would ever hear him say your name again, and it caused your heart to physically hurt. Your breathing was getting faster and faster the more you let yourself feel the pain, you felt yourself give in slowly.

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you took a step away from him, dropping the gun on the ground in front of you. Gally didn't even waist a second, his eyes connecting with yours as he got up and off the ground, and making his way towards your form.

You gasped when he grabbed you and pulled you into his warm arms. And as he wrapped his arms around you, he could feel you trembling against him, your body shaking with the weight of all the emotions coursing through you. He held you close, his hug a shelter from the storm of doubt and fear.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, fingers clutching at the fabric of his uniform as if afraid he might slip away once more. He could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the passing of time, nor the trials you had faced while you were apart. All that mattered in this moment was the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

And as you held each other, lost in the sweet embrace of reunion, the world faded away around you, leaving only the echo of your love reverberating through the empty spaces between you. It was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the enduring power of your connection, and a promise of the future you would build together, one tender embrace at a time.

[blue-sadie]

Soft Spot

Imagine:

being the only one gally isn't mean to so the other gladers ask for your special recipe during one of the bonfires and after a few of his 'concoction' drinks he pulls you into his chest before telling them.

"Because I love her you klunks no one deserves my kind words other then her and if I ever hear any of you talking bad about her ill throw you into the maze myself"

[arcadian-litterateur]

the maze runner masterlist

𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

♕ - fluff, ♖ - angst, ♘ - crack, ♔ - agere

𝖌𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖞

𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

rivers run dry ♖

sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) ♕

peiskos ♕

blueberry cobbler ♔

𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

gally as galileo galilei

𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘

𝔬𝔫𝔢-𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

the klein-paige legacy ♘ - tmr x the wilds fusion

[loveroffictionalmen]

hey! i just came over from tiktok, could you possibly do a gally x reader where he tries to act tough around all of the guys but (y/n) starts teasing about how sweet he actually is and he has to try and defend himself but gets all flustered over it, but can’t get mad at (y/n) cause he’s got that fat crush on her? (fem pronouns possibly please?)

Not So Tough

Pairing: Gally x fem!reader

Description: Gally has a hard exterior, but secretly melts when y/n is around.

Warnings: smooching, glade slang, idk just a lot of fluff, gally being a bit of a jerk

Words: 651

Prompt: Grumpy x Sunshine Trope

A/N: It lowkey ends kinda abruptly but OH WELL HERE YA GO

“Gally, would you please stop yelling at the rest of the builders and actually start building?” Newt called from the gardens.

“No can do, I gotta make sure everyone stays in line, that’s why you put me in charge of the builders, remember?” Gally called back, yelping soon after when one of the newer gladers dropped a piece of wood on his head. “You shank! Look what you’ve done! Dropping klunk all over the place, you should be sent to the slammer!”

“Gally, is that really any way to talk to the new guy?” Y/n jogged up to Gally from the med-jack hut where she was just supervising Clint and Jeff. Y/n was somewhat of a floater when it came to jobs. When they were testing what jobs she was good at, she was nearly good at every single one. Well, except for the slicers. Poor Winston nearly scared the girl half to death when he first came out with a machete.

“I uh- Well he dripped- I mean dropped that shucking piece of wood on me an-” Gally stammered.

“Gally, c’mon give the guy a break, he’s only been here a week,” Y/n said with a soft smile.

“Look, I’m just trying to do my job, gotta make sure everything gets done, right?” Gally said, seeming to regain his composure.

“And it will get done, you can just be a little nicer about it through,” Y/n said, placing a hand on Gally’s arm and running her fingers down his bicep.

Gally blushed. Y/n was playing him like a fiddle and she knew damn well what she was doing.

“I’ll see you at supper?” Y/n said.

“You know you’re the only one that calls it that, right? It’s dinner,” Gally snorted.

“Oh shut it, you know you love me,” Y/n said before turning over her shoulder and walking away, not before giving Gally one last smile. Gally stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with himself.

“Oi, Gally, what were you saying about making sure things get done?” Newt called, snickering to Alby.

“Oh slim it,” Gally growled. “No- you can’t hammer that in, there’s not a screw to hold it together!” He turned his attention to the Greenie.

___

“Hey big guy, not interested in tackling anyone to the ground tonight?” Y/n’s voice came from above Gally.

“No, not tonight, gonna try to go to sleep early,” Gally said, getting up and trying his best to avoid y/n. But before he could leave, y/n grabbed his wrist.

“Wait- did today really bother you?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gally broke away from her grip and tried to escape again, but she was too quick for him. She grabbed his arm again.

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t think it would bother you, I thought you would actually like it, y’know considering I was flirting with you.” Gally’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Oh my god,” Y/n laughed. “Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Kinda hard to pay attention to that when things need to get done,” Gally cleared his throat, trying his hardest to hide the smile that was forming on his face.

“Oh don’t act like you weren’t blushing the whole time you- oh my god you’re even blushing right now!” She laughed.

“Shh, no I’m not,” Gally smiled back at her, the blush returning to his cheeks.

“You are! Gally’s blushing! Gally’s blu-” Y/n called when she was cut off.

Gally’s lips crashed into hers as his hand moved to her cheeks. Y/n closed her eyes and sunk into the kiss, bringing her arms around his neck. When Gally pulled away first, y/n smiled.

“What was that for?” She breathed.

“To shut you up,” Gally smiled. He looked to her lips and back to her eyes. “And also because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

[urcatslitterbox]

“Oh god” Dylan sobs over me as I lay in a pool of blood. “T-there’s so much blood” he whimpered out through his tears, putting pressure on the wound before pulling himself together slightly.

“I-I need your type” he asks, his voice filled with emotion.

I grunt attempting to speak “5’11, brunet, brown eyes, really cute.” I mange, my eyes closed in pain.

Silence.

I open my eyes to be met with a very shocked and pink-faced Dylan.

“CUT!” Yells the director, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.

I giggle at Dylan’s reaction. He just groans and drops his head into me. “Y-you can’t just say that..” he mumbles, his breath hot against my neck, clearly still very flustered.

I reach my hand up and thread my fingers through his hair. “What? Can’t handle a little flirting O’Brien?”

—————————————————————————

Very much based of that incorrect quote “you’re bleeding what’s your type”

[illloveyoutillidie]

"Is it too late now?"

Newt x Reader (TMZ)

summary - you thought it'll be the last time you ever saw Newt in the day he died on your arms, until he showed up in front of you.

no warnings !! this is pure fluff and maybe a little angst 😸

You sat on the sand, the cold air hitting your bare shoulders as you breathe in deeply at the salty air of the ocean in front of you, waves bring the water closer to your feet. It calms you.

you always love those small things. you loved the sun and the stars, amazed at how they can shine on they're own.

you watch the stars and wish that you could also be like those stars, shine on they're own. But you can't, you're different. you're the moon. The moon that shined because of the sun.

The moon that wait days and nights and hours to shine together side by side with the sun but the day never came.

you're the moon, while newt is your sun.

Newt, the boy that made your life thousand times more better with him in it.

you missed the days you and him wouldn't sleep and sneak out quietly and you went to the top floor with him holding hands. watching together how the stars shine the sky so brightly and feeling the night wind blow your hair.

There we're times in glade where Newt would always hold your hand tightly while kiss you on your forehead and lips once in a while and say how much he loves you, grinning so widely to you.

You miss him. You can't deny the fact you miss him. You miss the times you had with him in the glade.

The ocean waves getting closer to your feet and the sound of footsteps reaching closer to you.

"good morning" came from minho as he sat down next to you. you replied with a forced smile, not really feeling like you want to talk.

"hey, you sure you don't want any breakfast? i made pancakes, the same ones you used to made" asked thomas, sitting beside you too, as he looked at you with worry.

The same one i made in the glade for them and newt.

Newt.

"I'm not feeling really hungry", you weren't lying, you hardly eat anything ever since you arrived at the paradise.

Thomas came and sat next to you. "well then, water?"

he handed you a cup of warm water.

"Thanks", you said before taking a gulp.

Minho puts his arm around you, "i know this is hard for you", he started,

"it's hard for all of us, but you need to take care of yourself. you haven't eaten anything since yesterday we arrived, and you're supposed to be resting in your room" He finished, speaking to you softly.

You gave him a small nod, and stared at the cup your holding as the sand warms your feet. "How have you been sleeping lately?" Thomas asked

"I sleep well" you send him a soft smile as he returns the smile and trace smoothing circles on your back.

The three of you watch the ocean for a moment without a word, you look to the sand as you inhaled deeply. Minho's eyes fell on you, and you turned to him with a soft weak smile. "Hey,"

with a small forced chuckle from the black haired boy, he replied "Hey"

"I'm glad you're both okay" you glanced at your feet, "I don't know what i would've done if you guys couldn't make it"

they nodded, looking at you for a while before minho replied; "i didn't expect that i'll made it here too"

thomas chuckle, "everything feels like a dream"

you didn't reply anything and just watch the waves getting closer to your feet. "I'm hungry, i think i'm gonna go get something to eat, see you both later" with that, you walked off

you weren't actually hungry, you felt empty. you just needed a reason to walk away. talking to them remind you so much of Newt and what happened that night.

Newt's hands are cold. His eyes empty. He's gone. tears pouring faster, and you wipe the tears away roughly.

"You can't leave me like this. not now, not later. you promised me you'll never leave me. please, newt. please. answer me."

you sighed.

Slowly, you made your way to get food, dragging your feet behind you. You stared at your surroundings, fiddling the hem of your shirt, trying desperately to not think of Newt but failed miserably. everything feels weird without him. the feeling that something is missing.

But as you looked to your left, there he stood, your eyes widened in surprise and you shake your head.

'stop, he's not here anymore, don't imagine things and pull yourself together y/n. he's gone.' you remind your self, trying so hard to not take a double look to check, but you couldn't hold your self so you looked. this time hoping he'd be there

you saw him.

again.

then the reality comes crashing down as you looked at him.

you froze. you stared at the blonde boy.

Newt.

your eyes locked at the sight your seeing. it's really him.

"Hey what's wrong?" Minho asked looking at you concerned.

You stood there, still frozen.

"Did you change your mind? do you not want to eat pancakes?" Minho asked

You finally found your words, and say what was holding your voice stuck in your throat. "that's... newt?"

his eyes fall to the direction your looking at. it took him a second to process it was really him as you both stood frozen.

Newt. The blonde boy. The love of your life. The one that died that night, is now running fast towards the two of you. He hugged you both tightly.

Thomas stared at him with surprise from afar, dropping his glass of water and run to our direction, hugging newt tightly as the corner of his eyes start to water.

Minho and Thomas asking him many 'how' questions as he replied "I'll answer all of your bloody questions later" his british accent ringing in your ears, making you cry. Is this really newt? but how?

"Newt.." the sound of your voice made him turn to you and smiled lovingly with tears in his eyes.

"Hey gorgeous" He opened his arms to hug you, you jump into his arm immediately feeling his warmth, solid and everything, He held you tightly against his chest.

You buried your head in his neck and your tears wetting your cheeks, tears drenching his shirt. you smiled a little. for the first time your truly smiled after you lost him. you hugged him tighter, still wanting to feel the warmth of his body and his touch as you feel him pressing his lips into your forehead and the smell of his body that you missed so much is enough to make you feel like you're home.

anywhere with him is home.

"Newt.."

"I'm here"

you finally pulled away, to look at him. those dark brown pair of eyes, his caramel colored hair that turned to a vibrant shade of gold when the sun hits his hair. oh how much you missed them.

it feels so unreal seeing him right now in front of you, you don't know if it was real or not.

he smiled at you again. that smile. the one you missed so much.

you hugged him again, this time with your head on his chest, he held your head in one hand and and your back in his other, pulling you closer and putting his head on top of yours gently.

you pulled away again, running your thumbs on his cheek and lips, realizing all the black veins, black eyes and popping veins we're gone. he's back to normal.

Minho spoke up, "But how? you..you we're stabbed and you died,"

"Yeah, we see you died that night in her arms, it doesn't make any sense" Thomas added.

"To be bloody honest, i don't know how myself. but i think y/n's blood touched my wound when we fought that night and it killed the virus and i survived, then i woke up surrounded by people, cured, and they led me here." he finished, looking at them.

"who we're those people?" thomas asked

"who ever those people are, I'm happy to have you back shuck face." minho laughed.

"and i'm happy to be back" newt smiled at us all, before whispering into my ear, "we've got a lot to talk about" he grinned.

Thomas glanced at minho, signalling to him to give you both time to talk. minho nods in response. "You must be hungry newt, let's make more food for them, and give them space to talk alone" Minho whispered the last few words and left with the others leaving you and newt alone.

"We'll meet you there later!" newt called back and turned to you, grinning.

he sit down at the sand, and pat the sand next to him, signalling you to sit next to him, so you did. he looked directly to you, breaking the silence.

"i miss you"

your eyes widened at the sudden confession, your eyes start to heat up and tears start to flood your eyes making your vision blurry.

"sorry, i didn't mean to make you cry" he looks at you softly and wipes your tears gently.

"you don't know how much i miss you and how hard it was losing you" you started. "it felt so weird without you here, it's like something's missing" you gazed at your lap

"i'm sorry for that night, i should've told you and try to work it out together like you said, but it was the best way to protect you" he started

you nodded as you understand the word 'that night' referring to the night you both argued because he hide the fact he was infected and you both broke up because of it.

"that night when i finally turned to a crank, i know i shouldn't have attacked you, but something in me is screaming for your blood, and in the end i hurt you, i'm sorry love." he whispered. your surprised at the last word, he used to call you that before you both broke up.

you forced a chuckle. you definitely missed being called that. you smiled at him "i understand and yes, i forgive you newtie. i always will."

he felt his heart skipped a beat at the familiar nickname you called him

newtie.

his words stuck in his throat as he tried to get him self to continue say the things he was planning to say but he failed miserable, after a second he finally forced out the words.

"and i know we had a bloody argument and we're not together anymore but i still love you y/n. i didn't mean the words i say when i told you i don't love you anymore and i don't need you caring about me, i still love you so freaking much and i really love it when your care for me, so..."

his voice getting quieter as he looks at you nervously, trying to observe your expression as his voice stuck in his throat for the second time. he lowered his head looking down at his lap, trying to find the perfect words to tell to you

'it's now or never'

"listen, the point of what i'm trying to say is, do you think it's too late to continue what we had?" he glanced at you and made eye contact with you

you chuckled at his nervousness. "so you're trying to say that you want to get back with me and continue our relationship?"

"if you still love me, well yeah" you chuckled

"i still love you newt"

"then, it's a yes?" he tilt his head and grinned at you, happy with your answer and now hoping you would agree to his offer

"why would i refuse?" you answered.

"bloody hell, come here" he smiled, he leans up, closer to you and kiss you. you kiss him back.

he hugs your body as your arms snaked its way to his neck and your fingers run to his hair, your fingers tangled in his hair. he pulled your body more closer, colliding yours with his until it you can feel his body warmth.

you both pulled away when minho suddenly yelled "Y/N, FOOD'S READY

you turn to newt. "You ready to meet everyone else?"

he nods. "yeah, let's go"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you walk in together, and you see the moment everybody's faces turn into shock except for minho and thomas, who was smiling widely at you both. you guessed that both of them haven't told the other's.

gally's eyes fall to yours, as if he's asking confirmations from you. you nod at him and smiled. gall's eyes widened and start to water.

"hey?" newt gives a little wave nervously as he watched the others exchanging glances with each other, and then gally, frypan and the other's moved, leaving the table they're sitting in and charged towards newt with a hug as newt happily hugs all of them tightly and didn't let go until thomas butt's in.

"alright everyone, let's eat as much as we want as a celebration AND STOP THE HUGGING SESSION, newt haven't eaten anything at all today"

they roared with laughter and finally pulled away from the hug.

standing beside you, minho chuckled and whispered, "you're happy aren't you?"

you smiled and nodded at him. "is it that obvious?"

"yes y/n, it's so obvious" you both laughed.

suddenly you feel someone hold your hand. you turned to see newt grinning before he pulls you into a sudden deep kiss as everybody else laughed. you both pulled away after everyone yells 'do it somewhere, you love birds!!' and your ears turn into a shade of red as newt's lips turn into a wide grin

[cyber333angel]

how you tell the boys goodbye when you see them off to work !

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚

Rafe !

you probably beg him to stay in bed like everyday even though you know he has to leave. like the beginning of the movie, “don’t worry darling” where alice tries to make excuses for jack to stay. “rafey please stay! ill be lonely without you..and! and im sick so who’s gonna take care of me?” and he just sighs because he doesn’t want to leave you but he is the man of the house and he has to work to give you all the things you want. “baby your not sick and you know I will be back, we do this everyday. im the one who has to keep you fed and get you all your nice things and I can’t do that if I stay in bed with you all day alright?” you pout at him knowing you can’t win, “c’mon give me a kiss before I leave.” you crawl to his side of the bed and stand on your knees at the edge of the bed facing him, you wrap you arms around his shoulders and kiss him deeply. rafe wraps his arms around your waist and slides them to the bottom of your ass, squeezing it firmly. “alright sweet girl, I gotta go but I will see you tonight and I left my card on the table. go buy something with your girlfriends and pick up the delivery of flowers that are coming today for you. ill call you and I love you, okay?” you nod your head showing him you understand, “mhm I love you too rafey! have a good day and come home soon!” blowing him a kiss as he walks out the bedroom door.

Jj !

since jj is always working outside jobs in the heat I feel like you would have to make him a lunch everyday before he goes. sometimes it could be leftovers from dinner last night or you could wake up early to make him a sandwich and fill it with all the snacks he likes. so currently, you are in the kitchen whipping up two sandwiches for jj in his oversized t-shirt, bonnet and fluffy slippers, moving from the fridge to the counter, your panties peeking from below every time you reach up for something. your boyfriend waking up from his slumber, scratches his neck, “g’morning babydoll, what you making f’me today?” reaching over to you and hugging you from behind, you smile and beam from the warmth of his chest. “good morning jayj! making you a scooby doo sandwich with chips and gatorade along with..” you ramble to him talking about all the snacks you stuffed his lunch box and he slides his hands up and down your curves, placing little kisses on your neck making you wince, “mmm jj you have to go to work!”

“I know cupcake but just a little bit..” you probably start your day with a make out session every morning because he can’t get enough of you, but when the two are done, you see him off at the door handing him his lunch box, “I love you jayj! have a good day at work nd I hope you like your lunch!” and he smiles to himself while putting his lunchbox around his waist, getting on his motorcycle. “see you later baby, I love ya and ill see you later.” along with a flirty comment probably, but you see him ride off to work with a grin on your face.

Barry !

I think barry cares for you too much to let you stay at his trap house so he never lets you go over there cause it’s dangerous, meaning he bought a apartment when the two of you started dating or he stayed over with you sometimes. but currently he was staying over at your house sleeping next to you. he would wake up first and make you breakfast, so usually you wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs. getting up in your pajamas walking into the kitchen with sleep still in your eyes. barry turns around, and sees you, “good morning sleepy girl, I made you some breakfast before I leave so si’down.” you mumble a quiet “g’morning bear..” and do as your told taking a seat in the cold chair to wait for your boyfriend to give you some food. you two talk for a while about the plans for today and you finish your breakfast. “I gotta leave now princess, some people waiting for me to show up but give me a hug before I go mama.” you smile and run up to him, melting in his touch, you look up at him from his chest giving him a peck. “please be safe bear..I love you and call me!”

“mhm will do ma’am, I love you too and get s’more sleep aight?” you nod and kiss him goodbye at the door.

<3

[lunajay33]

Masterlist 2.0

Fluff>☆ Angst>꩜ Spicy>ꨄ︎ Suggestive>❀

Masterlist 1.0

Daryl Dixon🏹

{Quarry Era}

Soulmate> ☆

{Farm Era}

The Farmers Daughter> ꨄ︎

{Prison Era}

Future> ꩜☆

How to tell you I Love You> ☆

{Alexandria}

Despair> ꩜

Where’s My Wife> ꩜☆

{Series}

Change->Part.8•Part.9•Part.10•Part.11

New World->Part.15

Suppose to be You->Part.1 Part.2

Negan Smith

{Neighbour}

Crave> ☆❀

{Coach}

Just a Taste> ☆ꨄ︎

{Friends Dad}

Desires> ☆ꨄ︎

Supernatural🦇

{Sam Winchester}

New Addition> ꩜☆

Surprise> ☆

{Dean Winchester}

Help> ꩜☆

{Castiel}

Secrets> ☆

Twilight🐾

{Paul Lahote}

Destiny> ☆꩜ Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Pain> ꩜

The One> ☆

Why Me? Part.2

{Seth Clearwater}

My Beast> ☆

Valentines> ☆

Best Friend> ☆꩜

{Embry Call}

Desperate> ꩜☆

{Emmett Cullen}

Waiting> ☆꩜ Pt.2

{Felix Volturi}

It’s You> ☆꩜ꨄ︎ Pt.2

{Alec Volturi}

Am I Good Enough> ꩜☆

Acotar🦇✨

{Azriel}

Struggle> ꩜☆

All in my Head> ꩜

Hold me> ꩜☆

My Princess> ꨄ︎☆

{Cassian}

Innocent> ꨄ︎☆

A Part of Me> ꩜☆

Wrong Outcome> ꩜☆

{Eris}

The Deer and the Fox> ☆

{Eris & Azriel}

Never the Right Time> ꩜☆