#youre lucky i love the pain so much that i had to crank this one out as my last post for the night

[glacialswordsman-a]

∗ 52 // :3 what better way to try and reconcile by sacrificing yourself for your brother ✨

∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . | what is with y'all wanting to hurt me so bad what did i ever do to deserve this (everything)

The world stopped in that single instant.

Why was this happening?

Just a minute ago Kaeya and Diluc had been fighting back-to-back, moving in complete synchronization as they fought of some Fatui skirmishers that had made their home at the base of Dragonspine. They had long since known that there were Fatui camping out on the mountain, and said organization hasn’t done anything that would have warranted a visit from the Knights—not until recently, at least. These skirmishers did not take kindly to Kaeya trying to schmooze them so they can spill what the hell they were even doing there.

For some reason, Diluc was there too, having followed Kaeya along yet hung a distance back as to let the Knight do his job (and presumably also to avoid the risk of Kaeya incessantly pestering him).  That’s fine, he can play back-up all he wants.

Though, the sight of flaming hair really set off these skirmishers, recognizing Diluc for who he was: Snezhnaya’s #1 wanted criminal and persona-non-grata. Technically speaking, the Fatui had no right to bring Diluc with them to the Cryo Archon’s lands. They had absolutely no jurisdiction here. Yet, they had enough cojones to try and take care of him themselves.

Thus began the fight between the Cavalry Captain, the Vigilante, and the Fatui.

One wouldn’t think that they’d work so well in a fight together, that they’d just clash and only make the entire situation worse—but they grew up together. They trained together to become Knights. Diluc would know Kaeya’s movements by heart, and while it took Kaeya a while to catch onto the older man’s style with his claymore, he was quick to learn. And so they fought with everything they got, shifting between each other like water as they swapped sides to land their hits or block some for the other.

Until now.

A pyro gunner had situated himself in the distance, somewhat hidden due to the commotion his comrades were in the middle of. The only reason Diluc had managed to see him was due to the glint of the gunner’s scope. As the last skirmisher (that was in close-quarters) fell, the blazing inferno of a man shoved the Captain away as a loud ‘bang’ rang out through the base of the mountain.

Before Kaeya knew it, he was down on the snow-covered ground, with the young Master’s body slumped on top of his own. The Captain was frozen, unable to even begin parsing what just happened—until he felt warmth seep from Diluc and onto his own clothes.

Sharply inhaling, he moved the man that had once burned so brightly off of himself and onto his back, taking stock of his injury, noting the blood blooming and staining his already dark coat to black. Kaeya looked down at himself and saw the crimson staining his white and blue outfit, a stark contrast on his form.

He had been shot.

“—Diluc. Diluc—answer me… Hey!”

Panic rose within Kaeya as he suddenly felt so nauseous, bile threatening to rise up his throat. He whipped his head around towards the direction he heard the rifle go off, but the Fatui filth had long departed. Damn him.

Damn him!

Looking back down at the man whose life continued to escape him, Kaeya quickly tried to put pressure on the wound after removing his cloak and fur stole. He doesn’t care if it they’ll be unsalvageable, he doesn’t care if the chill of Dragonspine would seep into his bones, he doesn’t give a single fuck! If Diluc can’t be salvaged, then what use were they to him anyway?!

“Diluc—Luc, please—. Please, Lulu, just hang on. I have you, I do, I promise! Don’t you dare die on me, stupid brother!” he yelled before crying out for someone, anyone to help them. To hear his pleas and to save his brother. Please, not again.

Not again… He can’t lose him again. Not for good.

[mononijikayu]

hello 🥰 ive been following you and reading your works for a while and i think it's really cool how you can produce so many good quality fics so quickly. your readers are very very lucky ! how long does it usually take for you to finish your works? i would love to learn more about your process ! 🌷

hello hello!!! 🫶

i think it sort of helps that i dont sleep that much or very well and that im an irregular student in uni

i also think another factor is that my mind has ideas a lot. most of the time i sit down and think when im at a park before class and i type out a rough plot draft then i make it as soon as possible

because as fast as thoughts come, they go away too fast too. so i rush!!! which is why i make mistakes often!!! i just come back and correct myself!!!

it also helps that i type really fast. i used type out my notes in my undergrad and even now in my higher educ school days. so i think that's another factor!!! i write both on my phone and my computer (which is whyyyyyyy i have drafts everywhere and i get scolded for not paying attention to people im around when i have an idea 🥲🥲🥲)

making short drabbles or smth like say immortal sukuna, it takes me around an hour or so (the formatting is the hard part 🥲🥲🥲)

and say if im doing something in long format like 3 to 5k, it may take 3 to 4 hours, depending on my brain and my energy. 10k and beyond takes longer — but i try to get it done the same day after a break or tomorrow if i have time.

ashes of love, i got crazy writing about it because i could picture everything easily in my head. so i rushed writing it just to crank out the image i had in my head. because im frightened it would disappear and i'd just lose the vision!!!

but on days i dont update (like during exams) i already have something planned in advice, like a draft i didnt like and i feel like is good enough (a great example would be 'love me back—megumi fushiguro, i liked it but i didnt 'love' it you know???); i publish those to buy myself time.

usually its because im stubborn. i dont like leaving things not done and i wanna be a fan of my work too, so i wanna read it to see if its good enough.

so i have to finish it and give it to everyone to enjoy with me. so even if i only like it, i wanna put it in the world too. i think ill grow to love more than i just do now one day!!!

though, im not immune to being lazy. i think i still havent finished a lot of stuff and i have to rewrite them when i have more time. but i genuinely forget sometimes and i come back, reread and do it again. so it makes me unproductive too.

but writing is a destressing tactic to me and im crazy about it because its a way to find some peace of mind. so ill do it aa much as i can to be sane as much as possible.

tldr — i dont sleep that much, i have more time at times cause irregular school days, im stubborn, i chase my ideas like its the F1 and its a problem but also my sanity!!!

i'm sorry this is long reply, im a big yapper but all this changes depending on what happens and how i am (im also sickly sometimes BUT ideas dont stop even when im sick so i also write too) 😭🫶

(also please dont do this to yourselves, it causes a lot of back pain and cramps too. i sit far too much trying to finish ideas and its BAD. please do it in your pace too and make sure to keep your health first 🥹🫶)

[batwritings]

I know I sent in something earlier- but I can't stop thinking about this (also if this makes you uncomfortable I apologize- you don't have to write it)

Dream and Sapnap and they're sharing the reader and theyre degrading and praising the reader, giving them commands over a video call- slowly making the reader their slut- and so it slowly becomes a regular thing where they all call and just go at it

being shared over a call by sap and dream > literally anything else

there's just something about being shared by them just seems so hot to me- is that bad?????also I apologize again for having sending in alot of asks- I just have smut brainrot (specifically sapnap)

-🦔

....hot damn! You’re on fire today!! Legit if you ever want to simp over this man, hmu my discord is in a previous ask (or you could message me on here but only if you’re comfortable!). Enjoy~!

Warning! There will be some degradation and talk of subspace in here! Please be careful when reading!!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your breath came in heavy pants as you followed the instructions from the two men in your ears. You’re watching the two men watching you back as your one hand was rubbing furiously over your sex. Your other was stroking along your neck, pretending it was Dream’s. You were so, so close to your orgasm you could almost taste it.

“Slow down slut,” came Dream’s voice, hard and commanding. “Not going to have you cumming this early, or without permission.”

Reluctantly, the hand that was touching your sex slowed to an agonizing pace. You knew the punishment you would get if you disobeyed, and while it was honestly so damn tempting, you knew better.

“So good for us,” sang Sapnap’s praise. “So sweet and obedient.”

“Th-thank you sirs,” you slur out, getting delirious from how much they had edged you over the course of the better part of an hour.

“As they should be,” Dream spat, watching you intently for any sign of deviation. “Whores like them only know how to beg and obey. Isn’t that right Y/N?”

You whine at his words, adoring the degradation along with the praise. “Yes Sir,” you respond weakly.

Dream smirks and nods. “Faster.”

Immediately your speed picks up, hand tightening along your throat. You could feel your orgasm tingling along your spine. It was taking all your mental capacity for you to even find the words, but you eventually sputter out, “Gonna cum. Please. Can I?”

Dream hums in fake contemplation. “That’s all that’s on your mind isn’t it?” he says with a disgusted tone. “Pathetic. But I suppose it can’t be helped. What do you think Sapnap?”

“I think we should let them,” he says, slowly stroking his own member. “They’re so pretty when they cum. And they have been pretty good.”

You’re barely holding on at this point, forcing your climax back by sheer will.

Finally, Dream clicks his tongue and looks you dead in the eyes over the computer screen. “Fine, fine,” he sighs. “Cum for us you stupid whore.”

Your end hits you like a freight train, nearly knocking the wind out of you as you cry out in pleasure. Your whole body tightens in on itself in your computer chair as you ride out your orgasm, barely having the mind to follow Dream’s instruction of tightening your hold on your neck. The praise from Sapnap is a mere fuzz in your ear as you collapse back, panting heavily.

“I hope you don’t think you’re done,” Dream’s harsh words cut through the fog in your brain and you lift your eyes to look at him properly. “That was round one. Go get the present I so kindly got you.”

You nod, shakily standing from your chair to retrieve the box that had come earlier that day. Inside was a lovely little vibe, but no remote. You pulled the tag keeping it from being tested and brought it back to your desk.

“Put it inside for us sugar,” Sapnap asks kindly and you do so.

Before you can begin to question them you feel the toy turn on, at what had to have been the highest setting. All the air feels like it’s pulled from your lungs, a bit of pain mixing with the pleasure. You tear your bleary eyes open to see both boys fiddling with their phones on your screen. Oh. There’s the remote...er, remotes.

“Surprised?” Dream asks with a knowing smirk. “We figured you’d deserve some form of reward, for a lowly slut that is.”

You moan loudly at his words, babbling out a string of curses mixed with “thank you sirs”.

“Aw,” Sapnap coos, breathing a little quicker now. He lowers the setting from his end to watch you squirm as he strokes himself. “You’re so cute Y/N. Love it when you get to feel good because of us.”

You whine from the lack of friction only to nearly screech when Dream turns the toy back up again. They keep you like this for a while, letting you ride the waves of overstimulation and pleasure as they turn the levels up and down. Finally your second climax starts to creep up on you and you beg in a mess of words for your release.

“Cum for us babe,” Sapnap says this time, breathless. “You can cum with me, yeah?” Sure enough the two of you hit your orgasms nearly simultaneously, you nearly bending over with how much pleasure was drilled into you as Dream cranked the level on your vibe.

You’re incoherent when you feel it still going, so you tap on your table twice. All at once sensation stops and even Sapnap’s heavy panting slows to a near halt. “If you can talk, can you give me a color baby?” you hear Dream ask quietly.

It takes a few beats, but you finally mutter a soft, “Red”.

All sternness and venom is gone from Dream’s voice then, him working with Sapnap to praise you on how well you did for them. They’re so quiet and gentle with their words you just might cry as they work you out of subspace slowly. You really were lucky to have them.

[atinyarmyzen]

１１：１１

༄ؘ ˑ inspired by kpopscapes holiday event

༄ؘ ˑ 12 . 11 » my soulmate found me 

pairing: jaehyun x reader

length: 1.4k

warnings: like one swear word

genre: tooth-rotting fluff, soulmate!au in which a tattoo of the timestamp of your soulmate meeting appears on your skin 

a/n: I saw this event and was super excited to see it was open to non-members, thank you for the opportunity! I love this idea- hope y’all enjoy!

The winter chill bit at his ears as he walked out of the warm restaurant and into the cold air. Jaehyun shivered and pulled his beanie down to cover them. He had just bid his friends a good night before walking to the crosswalk, waiting as he shrugged his shoulders up to shield his neck from the bitter cold. Still, the city was beautiful at this time of year, snow covered the ground in a white sheet, glittering lights flooded the streets in a warm glow, and people bustled about amidst the holiday rush. Just as the light turned and it was safe to cross, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain on his forearm. He hissed and winced. Bystander’s cocked a brow at his sudden movements but quickly moved on as they passed him to the other side of the street.

“What the hell?” he spoke lowly to himself. He quickly pulled his sleeve up to inspect the source of the stinging sensation only to find four small numbers inked into his skin:

11:11

Jaehyun stared at the numbers with his mouth agape. Only a very small amount of the population actually got tattoos, and he never thought he would be one of them. He quickly shoved his sleeve back down his arm in a mix of panic and butterflies in this stomach. He looked around him and made eye contact with an old woman who seemed to have noticed his situation. She offered him a fond smile and said: “You’re lucky, young man. No everyone has a love like that in their lifetime,” before walking off. 

Jaehyun stayed glued to his spot for a few more moments, still processing what had just occurred. Finally snapping out of his shock, he continued his trek home. 

“Holy shit, bro. Congratulations, that’s amazing!” His roommate Mark gushed when he learned of Jaehyun’s tattoo. That’s when Jungwoo’s head suddenly poked out from around the corner. “Wait-what?” he ran over, “Is that what I think it is?!” Jungwoo hopped excitedly. “Yeah. I think so,” Jaehyun murmured  shyly, “Can you guys keep it down? I don’t need everyone making a big deal about it.” He said keeping his eyes downcast as he felt the tips of his ears burn, something that always happened when he was embarrassed. 

“It’s cool, we’ll keep it on the down low,” Mark comforted him. “You don’t seem at all excited though,” Jaehyun sighed. “I am- but I’m also not- ugh,” he paused feeling frustrated, “I was always afraid of this happening to me because I don’t think I can handle the stress, the constant anticipation of meeting this fated person just freaks me out,” Mark nodded and spoke after a moment. “I get it, that sounds nerve racking as hell, but you gotta remember this person is your soulmate-thats the beauty of it. There’s no need to worry about them not loving you back.” 

Mark’s words surprisingly soothed Jaehyun, sometimes his younger friend could be so wise beyond his years. “Thanks, Mark,” He said with a smile. 

Jaehyun stared at the ceiling from his bed for what felt like hours. He groaned and turned over at his racing thoughts and how they refuse to let him sleep. After hours of pacing, sorting through vinyls and playing random songs on the keyboard he finally felt his eyes growing heavy. He slumped down onto his bed with a loud exhale. He laid on his stomach with his head turned to the side on his pillow. He stared ahead at the wall before letting his eyes finally close. 

It was daylight, as far as he could tell, but time moved like everything was underwater. For some reason the cafe was bathed in a warm light, you could see the dust shimmering in the sunbeams that streamed through the glass walls. There was quite a number of people in there, he turned his head from where he stood to see someone sitting at a table in the far corner, typing away on a laptop. As if they could feel his stare, their eyes flicked up to meet Jaehyuns in a way that made his heart screech to a halt. 

He flew up to a sitting position in his bed, feeling jolted out of his sleep. It was light out, he turned to look at the clock and felt a chill run up his spine.

11:11 am 

Those eyes. Their image stayed so clearly in his mind. His dreams were usually never this vivid. His heart continued to pound in his chest, the fluttering feeling in his belly still lingered from locking eyes with the stranger- even if it was a dream. Jaehyun quickly snatched his phone from his nightstand and quickly searched for any info he could find on soulmates to ease his conscience. 

“....soulmate bonds vary by case. However, most soulmates have reported having frequent vivid dreams that intensify as the date of their meeting gets closer.” 

His heart leapt into his throat. How soon? Was the dream a glimpse into the future, or just his imagination? He regretted looking it up, it only made the feeling of anxiety intensify. Why was he so damn nervous? It’s not like he’s not used to getting attention from people, he’s had many people be interested in him before. Dating was never hard for him and he considered himself a pretty easygoing guy, but why was this making him feel so...exposed? 

Weeks went by and Jaehyun looked like he had just committed first-degree murder by the was he was constantly looking over his shoulder and fidgeting around. “Dude, calm down,” Johnny said as they sat in the cafe. Johnny was filming for his youtube channel and asked Jaehyun to come along with him for the day. “You’re making me nervous,” He said as Jaehyun restlessly bounced his leg. “I feel like I’m about to lose my sanity, man,” Jaehyun said, “I don’t know why this scares me so much.” 

Johnny was one of his closest friends, and also the only other person he knew with a soulmate tattoo. “The reason is scares you so much is because it feels different from anything else you have experienced with anyone else,” Johnny stated casually, “Your connection to them isn’t like any other- you feel extremely vulnerable feeling so imitate with them and you haven’t even met them yet.” 

Jaehyun took in Johnny’s words- he was right as usual. “Besides, you of all people barely let anyone in that mysterious head of yours,” He added with a sly smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jaehyun admitted reluctantly with his arms crossed. “I know I am,” Johnny chided with his signature wink. Jaehyun rolled his eyes with an amused smile. 

“I gotta pee,” Jaehyun said standing up. Johnny hummed in acknowledgment as he stared at his phone. 

The keys clattered under your fingertips as you cranked out your last essay of the semester. You hated working in your dorm room because of your roommate, so you always came to this cafe around the corner. Your usual spot in the corner was cozy and closed off from the buzzing of the crowd. You reached for your coffee to take a sip and caught a glimpse of the numbers on your forearm. They had appeared almost a month ago and you had been having strange dreams ever since. All you could remember from them was a pair of eyes- they haunted you. You decided to shove the intrusive though away and go back to typing, only to be interrupted a few moments later by a strange chill running up your spine. You stopped mid-sentence and froze, it felt like you were being watched. Your eyes snapped up and the wind was snatched from your lungs. 

It was him. You recognized the eyes immediately, but you weren’t prepared from the rest. Slicked back, dark hair with a few strands that hung loosely over his eyes. His skin was like porcelain, not a flaw in sight. An oversized sweater that hung on his broad shoulders, with some jeans and a pair of black converse. Dear god, he was gorgeous. 

You couldn’t help grin like an idiot, it felt like you just got slapped silly. Then it hit you- you looked over at the clock on the wall, and the handsome stranger followed your gaze. 

11:11 am

You looked back at him to meet his eyes. Then he smiled, and his face changed from his intimidating beauty to the most adorable, dimpled smile you’d ever seen. He started towards you and every nerve in your body was screaming with nervous excitement. He stopped in front of your table and reached out his hand. 

“Hey, I’m Jaehyun,” he said reaching out his hand. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“Took you long enough,” you joked, taking his hand. “I’m y/n.” 

[something-fanfiction-ie]

24 Hours

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: You get buried alive and uhm... I think a curse word or two?

A/N: So, before you notice, yes this is largely based on season two episode nine of Bones, Aliens in the Spaceship. Also, yes this is a criminal minds imagine and yes I’ve hopelessly and irrevocably fallen in love with Matthew Gray Gubler. Please like, comment, reblog, and send me asks, I love that shit. Also, if you’ve never seen criminal minds, you should watch it. Even if only for Dr. Spencer Reid aka Matthew Gray Gubler. You’re welcome in advance.

___

“Hey Spenny, I’m going out to get some coffee. Do you want anything?” Your voice echoed around in Spencer’s head, the image of you waving at him from the door as you walked away imprinted into his mind. Would it be the last time he would ever see you?

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N) has been buried alive,” Hotchner stood in the front of the room with Spencer���s phone on speaker. The whole team sat around the table with varying degrees of horror displayed on their faces as the realization dawned on them, “Wire transfer five million dollars to the following Grand Cayman account.” Spencer buried his head in his hands, his fingers tangling into his hair.

Your eyes were on him as you waved over your shoulder, stepping through the door with just a glance and a smile. He kept playing it through his mind in slow motion. Now you were underground, running out of air and running out of time.

“Upon receipt of the wire transfer, I will provide you with Agent (Y/L/N)’s GPS coordinates. You have 24 hours. This will be my last communication.” The BAU jumped into action, people pulling the files from the previous abductions and swapping theories.

“Where in the hell are we going to get five million dollars? The FBI has a strict policy about not paying ransoms.” Morgan slammed a fist on the table, gritting his teeth as his mind raced.

“Her parents.” Spencer looked up, pulling himself out of his head. He needed to be actively helping. They had twenty four hours and sitting at the table with his head in his hands wouldn’t help anything.

Pushing away from the table, the young doctor stood up to look at Agent Hotchner.

“When her parents died they left everything to her. She’s never touched it, said it felt too much like blood money.” Hotchner nodded, looking across the room to Garcia who looked as shell shocked as Spencer felt. Not only had her dear friend been abducted and buried alive, but she had been telling secrets about her parents to Reid and not her?!

“Garcia I need you to find out who she banks with, JJ get them on the phone and see what you can do. If we can pay the ransom we will. If not, we’ll have to figure where she is.” Both women nodded, rushing back to Garcia’s office. The remaining agents started to map the location of every burial site.

“Well, at least we know she’s in Virginia.”

...

When you woke up, rolling into the leather backseat in you car, your brain felt like it was exploding. Your entire body ached, and for a minute, too focused on the pain, you didn’t realize where you were.

It hurt to sit up, to breathe, to look around, and when your brain connected every dot it hurt to think.

“I’ve been buried alive.” You said it aloud, staring at the rocks and dirt that pressed against every window. Thinking felt like walking through sludge, but why?

You’d been working on a case. Four victims in four months, all buried alive, all coming from wealthy backgrounds. Every victim varied in age, race, and sex. It appeared you were number five. There would be a call, maybe two hours after you’d been buried. It would be the only means of communication, there would be a high ransom.

None of this information could help you though. You were underground, what is around you, (Y/N)?

In your glove compartment was a small digital camera, a pen, and some napkins. In your center console was a bottle of water, a small tube of sunscreen, and some loose change. Your phone was on the floor but the battery had been taken out, and sitting in the backseat was a box with a book delicately placed inside.

A first edition copy of Sonnets from the Portuguese, the pages yellowed with age. To just anyone, it was an old book with some poems inside, but you knew that Spencer would understand the moment he opened the box. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had written the series of sonnets to her husband as they were courting. Inside was a poem you had confessed to Spencer was your absolute favorite.

“I’m kind of a cliche hopeless romantic,” you laughed, afraid to look at him for the fear that he would think you were just a silly girl. “But my favorite poem is How Do I Love Thee?”

“By Elizabeth Barrett Browning?” When you looked at him, his expression hadn’t changed from that of a simple curiosity. You relaxed a little, glad to reveal the intimate detail about yourself without backlash.

You had spent such a long time trying to bury the persona of a teenage hopeless romantic underneath the facade that you were only concerned for logic, knowledge, and psychology. You’d never understood why wanting to love and be loved made you any less intelligent.

“I’ve dedicated that poem to the man I hope to marry one day.” A small smile twitched at the edges of his lips as you looked down at your nails, picking at the dirt underneath them. Your face felt like it was on fire. Why had you told him that?

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Spencer reached across the divide between your desks and put his hand over yours. He squeezed, his expression gentle when you met his gaze.

“He will be a lucky man.”

Tears pricked at the back of your eyes at the thought of Spencer. Would you ever see him again? Would you even be alive in twenty-four hours?

Panic seemed to take control, propelling forward. You screamed, crying hysterically as you pounded against the windows.

“Help me! I’m in here! Please!” You didn’t stop until your hands were bruised, not caring about the amount of oxygen it had taken from your already limited supply. After the panic came a numbness that spread through your body and mind. You weren’t sure how long you stayed staring into your hands, sitting cross-legged in the front seat, but when you finally came back to yourself you knew you had to truly fight.

Gathering everything you’d found in your car, you started to think of what you could do. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

Think, (Y/N), think. What is around you?

“Dirt.” Then you gasped, scrambling back to the front of the car. Using the window crank, you let bits of the dirt fall inside before rolling the window back up and grabbing a handful.

Just by looking you could tell there was ash, a couple of sniffs told you there was nitrogen and sulfur. You spit into the dirt. Coal rich soil. But that was all of Virginia, that didn’t tell you anything.

Think, (Y/N), think.

A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water. A camera, a phone, a pen, a napkin, some change, a book, sunscreen, a bottle of water.

“That’s it!” Carefully, you shifted the dirt to the top of the center console. Mixing a dab of sunscreen into the dirt, you powered on the camera and grabbed the pen which, conveniently, had a laser on the end.

Just like that you knew where you were. You just had to find a way to tell the others.

...

“We can’t get the money from the bank, she has it completely closed off from anyone touching any of that money. They won’t even tell us how much she has.” JJ ran her fingers through her hair, turned in her chair to face the team that had gathered into Garcia’s office.

“It was a long shot anyways, you typically have to have your name on the bank account to be able to withdraw any money.” Hotchner looks to the rest of the agents clustered next to him, hoping that one of them would have something.

“Did we get anything from the geographic profile?” He made direct eye contact with Reid, watching as he stepped forward and nodded for Garcia to pull up a map. Red lines popped up at each of the four crime scenes, connecting to the location the victim lived. Salem to Lovingston. Stuart to Winchester. Boydton to Marion. Louisa to Yorktown.

“Each of the burial sites is two to four hours away from where the victims lived which would put (Y/N) in this general vicinity.” Using his finger, Reid circles an area on the map around Quantico. No one mentions the shaking of his hand.

“There’s nothing else to narrow down the search.” His voice cracks at the end and no one can meet his eyes. JJ flinches at the sound, tightening her hand around the edge of the desk. It isn’t until Hotch goes to send the team back to work that a chime breaks the silence in the room.

Reid scrambles for his phone, fishing it out of his pocket and flipping it open.

“Who is it from? The Gravedigger? What did he say?” Everyone crowds around him, trying to get a peak at the message.

“It’s from (Y/N).”

6 7 16 M1.4

“What the hell does that mean?” Penelope says.

...

You’re not sure how long its been, but you can feel the oxygen getting low. Your eyes feel heavy, like you’re tired, and if you move just a little too fast the world shifts and sways like you’re on a boat.

After hot wiring the phone to the car, you’d leaned against the horn and typed the shortest message you could as fast as possible. When the phone sparked and died, you weren’t even sure if the messsge had gone through. You could only hope.

For now, you’ve crawled into the back, opening the book to read through it. If you’re going to die, at least you can read your favorite poems one more time. With every sonnet comes a memory of Spencer.

“Actually,” Spencer begins, stepping forward to point out something no one had even thought of, gesturing between pictures and referencing something only he could see in his mind. You’d worked a couple of cases with the team at this point, getting to know each individual who sat at this table with you.

Spencer turned back to the group and there it was, for just a fraction of a second he looked at all the older people at the table like a little boy looking for acceptance and recognition. Looking for approval. Your heart flipped over itself and your crossed your arms, hoping this wasn’t the start of a silly crush.

You flip to the next sonnet, reading it in a whisper as another memory hits you.

“I’m scared, Spencer.” You met his eyes, heart hammering in your chest as JJ strapped a mic to your bra strap. You were going undercover in an attempt to lure out the unsub, and although you knew every single one of your team members would be ready to have your back at a moments notice, you couldn’t shake the fear.

“Why?” It wasn’t harsh the way he said it, looking at you from the desk he was sitting on as JJ stepped away and out of the room to give the two of you some privacy. You started to button up your shirt, trying to breathe away the shaking of your hands.

“I’m afraid something is going to go wrong. That I’ll say or do something that will tip him off and he’ll kill me.” Spencer stepped forward, not touching you but looking into your eyes as you smoothed your hands down your sides.

“I’ll be there before he has the chance. I’ll take that shot. But I don’t believe I’ll have to do that because I know you have the ability to do this without a hitch. You’ve got this.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to be okay. He wouldn’t let them send you in if you didn’t give him the okay. You could see that in the way he positioned himself between you and the door, ready to take the brunt of any frustration in order for you to feel safe.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And you did trust him. That’s why you were saving your last trick, waiting for him to put together the last of the puzzle piece he needed in order to save you. Spencer was going to find you, you had no doubt.

You just weren’t sure if you would survive the trick or not.

...

“Six, seven, sixteen, M, one point four.” Spencer stood staring at the board where they had copied the text, going over every possible meaning he could think of.

A book? No.

A math problem? No.

Coordinates? No.

Theories were being thrown across the room at rapid fire, everyone trying to think of the meaning to the cryptic message. They were all still huddled into Garcia’s office, so the voices echoed and bounced around the room.

“She’s been down there for fourteen hours, we’ve got nothing! She’s already running out of oxygen, I’m honestly starting to doubt it means anything.” Derek passed a hand over his face, patting at his cheeks as his eyes grew heavy.

“No. She’s highly intelligent and extremely resourceful, the message means something but wh-” Reid froze. In his mind he could see the periodic table.

“What is it, Reid?” Gideon looked at him, watching as his brain started to fly.

“Garcia pull up a map of Virginia.” She did as she was told, pulling up the map with one point in Quantico.

“Six on the periodic table is carbon, seven is nitrogen, sulfur is sixteen. She’s telling us the dirt she’s in.” Quick to catch on, Garcia zoomed the map onto coal rich soil in Virginia. It wasn’t enough.

“Coal can’t be distinguished by mineral composition, it’s all the same. However, macerals are unique in that they flouresce at different levels. In this case, 1.4, which is rare. It only occurs when there are high concentrations of inertinite.” The map zoomed, Penelope’s fingers flying across the keys as Spencer spoke.

“Got her.”

...

Settling your napkin letter atop the book, you nestled the lid to the gift box back on top. You tied the bow tight before tucking the whole thing into the waistband of your jeans. There was no guarantee it would make it, there was no guarantee you would make it, but you had waited long enough.

Grabbing both ends of the wires you’d stripped, you climbed into the back, hands shaking at the thought of what you were about to do.

“I’m scared.” You said. You heard Spencer, saw him leaning against a window seal in your mind. He looked at you from behind those glasses that always reminded you of a 60’s NASA engineer. His hair was pushed back, the ends curling around his ears in a way that made you itch to loop them around a finger.

Why?

“What if I never see you again?” Tears you hadn’t even known were in your eyes spilled over onto your cheeks, dripping onto the thighs of your pants. He changed now, taking on various Spencer’s from your past.

Spencer looking up from paperwork to listen to a question, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. His lips parted ever so slightly while a piece of his hair dangled out of place on his forehead.

Spencer leaned against the bar, waving down the bartender mid laugh. His tie is loose and his shirt is untucked, his hair is adorably disheveled and his eyes are crinkled around the edges.

Spencer asleep on the jet home, his cheek cradled in one hand, his elbow propped on the armrest. His long legs are stretched out, his other hand splayed on top of his chest which rose and fell with each breath.

Spencer standing in the elevator, the surprise of someone calling his name turning into a small smile when he recognizes you racing to the doors. He reaches out to press a button before using both hands to grab onto the strap of his bag. He looks down at you as you enter with a look in his eyes you’ve never been able to identify.

And the Spencer you’ve only ever dreamed about.

His eyes fluttering open after a long night spent proving his love, the sun filtering through the window and reflecting on him in such a way that it makes you wish you could paint. The sheets are bunched around his waist, his chest is bare, and his smile is so sleepy that it swells your heart to ten times it’s normal size.

We’ll see each other soon. You’ve got this.

“Okay,” you say it with conviction, forcing your hands to stop shaking, “I trust you.” And then without a moments hesitation, tears still running down your face, you touch the wires together.

The world explodes.

“There!” Spencer races for the place he saw the puff of dirt, nearly tripping over himself as he runs faster than he’s ever run before. Everyone follows, dropping to there knees with Spencer as he starts to push at the stone and sand at his feet.

“Please be here. Please be here.” He keeps saying, his heart climbing into his throat with every passing second he doesn’t find you. That is, until his fingers brush across an arm. He shoves down into the dirt, ignoring every instinct that tells him to stay clean. It’s you, it’s your arm. Then it’s your head, your shoulders and chest, your stomach, your legs, and then it’s you.

He pulls you on top of him, laying in the dirt with you pulled so close that you could meld into one person. You groan into his ear, pushing up just a little to get a better look at the man under you.

“I forgot your coffee.” He laughs, tears spilling onto the sides of his face as he wraps his arms back around you.

...

It’s late by the time you’ve been seen by what feels like every doctor and psychologist in the state. There’s bruises on your wrists and ankles you hadn’t noticed during your time underground and a cut on the back of your head where you’d been hit in order to be knocked unconscious. Not to mention the tiny cuts all over your arms and face from crawling through a shattered windshield and up through rocks and dirt.

You stood in the conference room, arms crossed as you leaned against the table and stared. Staring back at you was your own face, tacked to the evidence board with four other victims.

“I tried going to your apartment, but nobody answered the door.” Spencer is standing in the doorway of the conference room, holding a box in his hands. You look down at it before looking back at him. Try as you might, you can’t tell if he’s opened it or not, either you aren’t a good profiler or you were just really tired.

“You left this at the hospital. I figured it was important if you brought it up with you from the car.” Moving into the room, he holds the box out for you to take from him. The ribbon you tied around it is still tightly knotted, the ends shredded from being dragged above ground. There’s specks of dirt that you reach out to brush to the floor before looking back at Spencer.

“It’s yours.” You reply, scooting back to sit on the table, watching curiously as he looks back down. Pulling the box back to his chest, he slips the ribbon off in one fluid motion. The lid is next and you watch as he reaches in to pull out what you had believed to be your last words.

It isn’t much, and there’s a possibility you don’t feel the same way, but I’ve realized that I’m hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you. I trust you with my life and my heart. I’m only scared now of losing you. -(Y/I)

He doesn’t look up at you and he doesn’t set the napkin aside, only moves his hand so the note is out of his line of sight as he sees the book inside.

“‘I love thee with all the breath, smiles, tears of all my life.’” He says it almost in a whisper before setting the note back in the box, and the box on the table.

“How long have you been waiting to give this to me?” When he looks at you, finally, there is wonder in his eyes, amazement.

“I bought the book last month, but I’ve known how I felt about you for six months.” You pick at the edge of the table, swinging your legs ever so slightly. Spencer moves in front of you, blocking your view of the evidence board.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight. Robert Sternberg developed the theory that love is made of three components; intimacy, passion, and commitment. None of which can be present during a first meeting. But I think I knew that I would love you. I knew from the very first time you walked in those doors and you bumped into me.” He reaches his hand out, only hesitating for just a moment before he takes you cheek in his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He leaned so close that if he were just a hair closer, you lips would brush together as he spoke. You’ve already closed your eyes, every nerve lit up like the Fourth of July in anticipation.

“Yes.” You barely get it out before his lips collide with yours, you can feel every emotion from the last twenty four hours being poured into this kiss; fear, anxiety, sadness, confusion, anger, relief, love, safety.

You reach out to loop your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening as he grabs your hips to slide you closer. When he finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving and his cheeks flushed, it takes him a minute to open his eyes.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“I’m scared.”

“Why?” You loop the hair that curls against his neck around your index finger, licking your lips before responding.

“Because I’m afraid this will all be a dream and I’ll wake up back in that car.” Your breath hitches in your throat, the panic grabbing at your heart and lungs and barely leaving you anytime to process the plethora of things that have happened to you in the last thirty minutes.

“Come sleep at my place, that way you wake up with me by your side.” He steps away from the table, reaching out a hand for you to take. It takes you no time at all to make your decision, grabbing his hand and sliding off the table.

“Okay, I trust you.”

[ficsnroses]

Pregnancy Headcanons - John Wick x Reader

❧ may be read as a follow up to these.

warnings : pregnancy. smut. morning sickness mention. mega fluff.

words : 2.3k. requested by a lovely anon!

notes : remember ages ago when I said I’d whip these up? I did em! I couldn’t fit all my ideas. lemme know if you’d like to see another one of these with a similar concept. feedback appreciated as always! 

I love headcanons. so easy. so carefree. so much to say. don’t forget that you can request headcanons, too! not just full fics or drabbles.

A few weeks ago, John and you found out you were pregnant. Initially, it’s been slightly frightening to know that in a mere nine months or so, John and you will have a baby, a little human, who’s entire world you two will be, and they will be yours in return.

You’re more frightened, being the one carrying your child. You have your fears of not being good enough, or not knowing how to be the utmost perfect mother you can be to your baby.

John, however, is ecstatic. He’s frightened as well; he’s never done this before. Yet, he keeps it under wraps for you. For you, John always puts on a brave face and holds your hand each step of the way.

He goes out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable and well taken care of. So far, your belly isn’t even showing; but there is life inside. John has always treated you as a queen, but it has intensified tenfold after he got you pregnant.

Not a dish in the house is allowed to be washed by you, not a cloth may be touched. John wants to you relax and take it easy, focus on yourself. He truly believes that as long as you’re happy and healthy, the baby will be too.

John has always been an absolute sweetheart; nonetheless, since you’ve gotten pregnant, he’s only gotten lovelier. Many times, you fear you’re dreaming, and may wake up soon. John Wick is quite literally;

too good to be true.

Each morning, he’ll nuzzle into your chest, smiling a goofy grin.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispers into your hair, peppering soft kisses to your temples and forehead. “And to you too, peanut.” He smiles, heavy hand rested to your growing tummy. John never misses an opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, and your baby. Despite them not even being here yet. He knows that this pregnancy will take a toll on you; he’d wish for more than anything that he could carry the pain instead of you, which is why he showers you with love. He’d never want you to forget how important you are; how much you mean. You’re his entire world and this means more to him than you can imagine.

Morning sickness has been tough. Often, you’ll wake up feeling nauseous, however, you feel secure knowing you have a team player on your side. Occasionally, in the middle of the night when you’re up at 3:00am feeling awful, John helps you out of bed, holding your hair up for you and rubbing small, soothing circles to your back in the washroom.

“I’m going to make you ginger tea, alright babe?” He quietly speaks, leaving a speckled kiss to your shoulder as you freshen up. You feel awful keeping him up this late, John always needs rest due to his gruesome job.

Foot rubs and massages get a lot more common as your tummy grows. John doesn’t mind, he enjoys the intimacy and being close to you.

Speaking of intimacy…

You continue having sex for as long as you can, because you both know that down the road, as your hormones continue to fluctuate and your belly grows, it may not be something you’ll be able to do often.

John and you do, and always have had sex often for as long as you’ve been together. It helps John ease down, calm his nerves and relieve tension. You don’t mind making love to him either, of course. You feel lucky to feel him so close, and to be the only women who feels him that way.

“Close your eyes, Squish,” John whispers a chuckle, a delicate kiss placed to your bare belly, just where your baby rests. His heavier hands gently peel off the fabric of your bottoms, full lips trailing lower, soft kisses pecked to your inner thighs as he nears your heat. “Daddy’s about to do some real nasty things to mommy.”

You’re not sure if its just your hormones, or delicate emotions as of late. Nonetheless, having sex with John has felt…closer since you got pregnant. It truly feels like you’re making the sweetest of love each and every time. He kisses you so sweet, works you so slow, so intimately, so tenderly, it brings tears to your eyes.

Having him inside feels unreal, divine. He only picks up pace nearing climax, his expertise, skill and unmatchable affection never failing to spill you over the edge so well.

As your belly grows bigger and bigger a few months in, going places, and moving is becoming increasingly tough. Grocery trips have become progressively more tiresome; car rides gradually more uncomfortable. John tries his hardest to help, and understands if you snap at him a little too quick or accidentally pick a fight over something minor.

“Can you turn the music down? Please?” You interrupt a serene drive home from the market, voice coaxed with irritation, laced aggravation tinted across all tones. John’s hand rests to your thigh as he drives, his other placed to the thin steering wheel. You’d been complaining about discomfort the entire morning; he felt awful knowing you were in any sort of pain.

“Sorry.” He sighs, hand shifting from your thigh to crank the stereo of his beloved Mustang 69’ down. Passing traffic winds roar outside, the New York buildings passing in towering lengths. John’s palm immedietly rests back to your thigh; smooth, gentle strokes ran across the fabric clad to your lap. His eyes stay focused to the road, yet his hand stays touching you, letting you know he’s there.

That he’ll always be there, no matter how frustrated you get, how intolerable your nagging becomes.

He loves you, and he loves his baby. He’s waited far too long to have this; normalcy, something his, something his own; something created out of love, familiarity. Something he’d lacked for far too long.

“Ugh.” You exhale, after a moment of stretched silence, hand coming up to rub your weary eyes. “I’m being awful, aren’t I?” You whisper, saddened eyes locking to your husband’s street bound orbs. He turns momentarily to lock eyes, a gentle smile your way.

“No, sweetheart.” He assures, grip on your thigh tightening. You groan, rebutting. “No, John. I am. I’m sorry.” You sigh, reaching both your hands down to your lap to engulf his, holding his hand in a soft grip. You rub the top of his palm, relaxing, playing with his sturdier fingers. “I love you. I really do.” Sincerely, your eyes stay focused to his well defined features, the dark beard that rides his cheek.

And to the sound of your guilty voice, John chuckles, securing your hand in his, before brining it up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I know.”

John has come to all your ultrasound appointments; he wouldn’t miss them for the world. He holds your hand the entire time, signature goofy smile daubed to his smoky features.

The first ultrasound was incredibly emotional, you shed a couple of tears. John and you stare at the screen, a pea sized dot resting in the darkened frame. John’s hand holds yours so tight, so warm, you’d felt as if you could feel him within you. Like he was this significant, big part of you that you would cherish forever. Seeing him smile that day will be a sight you’ll never forget; a mural you’ll never surrender.

Through out your time together, over the timeline of your love, you’ve only seen John this way a handful of times. This happiness was different; held something sole, matchless. This was pure happiness, where nothing else tinted the depths of his thoughts. No insecurities, no doubts, no ghosts of his past. Apart from the day you said yes to marrying him, and the day of your wedding, you don’t remember John ever being this unconditionally, purely, happy.

You both sit on the couch later that night, John’s arms holding you close as your head lays to his broad chest, staring, smiling at the picture of your dream; the one that would conquer your entire hearts when they’d come.

John keeps a copy of the ultrasound picture in his wallet. He takes a moment to look at it, to remember what he has any time he needs a pick me up throughout the day.

John takes amazing care of you, your needs always before his. He monitors your eating and drinking, to make sure you and the baby are healthy. He gives you your supplements; you often forget the times throughout the day you need to take them.

Speaking of food…

Midnight cravings have become a usual for you. Normally, you suffice for waddling down to the kitchen, sure not to disturb your snoozing husband.

Gently removing his arm from your waist, you always smile a gentle, loving glaze his way. John sleeping is a sight you’ve come to adore over the years.

John at peace; is a sight you’ve come to adore. He deserves rest, he deserves peace.

Although, its tough not to wake John. More often than not, he’ll find you in the kitchen in the AM dark, smiling a cheeky grin as you devour left over dinner, or a questionable choice of midnight snack.

He’ll come up behind you, wrapping his arms snoozily around your mid, hands placed to your tummy. With a gentle kiss to the back of your head and his warm chest pressed to your back, his sleep thick, honey seared voice rasps a tender baritone in your neck.

“Hungry?” He’ll chuckle, quiet and warm. You only nod, lacing your hand to his that rests on your belly.

Of course, there have been rare nights where you crave something that isn’t in the fridge. John never turns you down, however. No matter how tired, how sleepy he is, he ventures to your local 24-hour market, or gas station in search of whatever you’d yearned.

“Should I come with you?” You bite your lip, pulling the comforter of your shared bed higher up your chest as you sit up. “I’m sorry I’m making you go out.” You frown, insecure. “But I just can’t stop thinking about how I just need a candy bar right now.”

John’s brown leather jacket shrugs onto his shoulders, and his lips smile your way, picking his wallet up off the night stand.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be quick.” He whispers, a kiss to your forehead before he’s out the door, blinking away sleep dense orbs.

For you, he’d wake a thousand nights. A million slumbers may waste away.

Slowly, you build the nursery for your baby. John works away, painting once crisp white walls into something more pastel, something that would welcome your child with joyful colour.

John has definitely become more talkative over the pregnancy.

He never misses out on a chance to kiss your belly, or talk to them.

“I’ll be back soon.” He announces, car keys armed in his sturdy fingers. With a kiss to your lips, he smiles. “I love you, don’t forget it.”

“Hurry back please.” You frown, a light whine coated to your tone. John only nods, slightly dropping to his knee in front of you, a quick, brief kiss placed to your tummy. “Keep mommy company, squish.” He tells your belly, a quiet, barely audible ‘daddy loves you’ Fled into the air, before he’s up, his hold on your hand let go as you walk him to the door, wishing him a wonderful day with a final kiss to his cheek.

You shop for cribs, toys, decorations all together. John looks incredibly handsome building the crib, painting the walls, asking exactly where you wanted everything to be placed. You watch him from your rocking chair in the corner, a hand to your belly as you talk to John the entire time, about anything, and everything.

John is a wonderful listener. Together, you two often talk about your future. A future where you’ll move away somewhere out of town,

Somewhere closer to the water, down the road. Somewhere where John’s ghastly pasts wont haunt him no more; somewhere you’ll grow old together with a white picket fence, and a story.

Your story, that you’ll tell you grandkids someday, when you’re old and gray, slightly slower; but still, hopelessly in love.

John adores talking to the baby. On secluded, rainy evenings, or when the sun sets out the mauve horizon and the trees bid goodnight to cotton clouds, John and you lounge on the couch, a thick, heavy novel equipped in John’s palm as he reads to you, and your tummy.

With his head resting on your lap, you stroke his lengthy coffee mane, fully engaged, lost in his mélange voice; smoky and rich, beautifully saccharine. Your thumbs coax his tired temples; gently scratching his stubble ridden cheek when you please. Every now and then, John’s glowing eyes peer up, glossing over your features.

He looks lovely like this, at ease, immersed in art.

To you, he is the loveliest of art. He’s a story, he’s a piece of Neverland. He’s your love story, and it’s one,

for the ages;

your love is one for the ages.

Sometimes, he’ll fall asleep this way, head resting in your lap as you stroke his hair. Him and the baby rest together, so close to you.

This was what it meant to have true, wholesome, pure, purpose. To have security, to have something truly, only, yours.

They were yours.

Pregnancy would be tough. It would be a journey, things would change, you would change. But you weren’t scared, for a single moment.

Because you knew, that you had your dream, your mountain of a man beside you, holding your hand,

Each step,

Of the way.

And you knew, you knew well. That the day your baby comes, they will have the most amazing, wonderful father who loves them, and their mommy to the ends of the world, and back.

You’d felt love before, you’d had everything before.

But with this, with what you’ve made, with John; it falls incomparable.

He’s the love that made all the others,

Irrelevant.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

[noirapocalypto]

can i get 4, 15, 18, 24, 41, 42, and (eyes emoji) 68 for whoever you got inspiration for? (☆▽☆)

THANK YOU!! 😍😍😍 I’ll pick Embry since I’ve never done this questionnaire for him.

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them?

I’m still more or less tweaking his backstory, but from what I have so far, Embry is someone that is pretty much haunted by his past and the pain he’s endured (which he desperately tries to hide and ignore by cranking up the ‘happy and chill’ guy persona to the max). But things have generally gotten much better in his life after meeting Renato and the Twins. So for him, I would say The Star fits very well with how his story is developing.

As The Star follows The Tower card in Tarot, it comes as a welcome reprieve after a period of destruction and turmoil. You have endured many challenges and stripped yourself bare of any limiting beliefs that have previously held you back. You are realizing your core essence, who you are beneath all the layers. No matter what life throws your way, you know that you are always connected to the Divine and pure loving energy. You hold a new sense of self, a new appreciation for the core of your Being.

You may also want to find or rediscover a sense of meaning, inspiration, or purpose in your life. You are making some significant changes in your life, transforming yourself from the old you to the new you and, in doing so, you are bringing about a fresh perspective: “Out with the old and in with the new!” You are choosing the highest version of yourself. This is a profound spiritual journey that will bring greater meaning and purpose into your life and will renew your inner energy. Strip back any limiting beliefs, facades, or deceptions, and live in your authentic nature. Be open to new ideas and growth, and listen to the still voice within.

He’s on the path of healing and learning to accept that what happened, happened and nothing will change that. His new family has his back and supports him, which is what he truly wanted and was missing in his life for the past couple of years. He won’t stop being the happy-go-lucky guy, because he’s just naturally like that. But he won’t fake it as much anymore and his joy is pretty much genuine now.

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice?

Embry’s original car was a Thorton Colby (Little Mule). That’s the car he learned to drive with as well as one he’s had the majority of his teen years and early twenties. Sadly, he ended up completely wrecking it one day (which is how he got his metal arm after the accident). After enduring having to ride passenger for about a year or so, he ended up getting himself a Shion Coyote and has stuck with it ever since.

18. share three songs you associate with them.

The Weight - The Band

Self Esteem - The Offspring

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

Not only do these songs sound like something he would probably jam out to while he’s on the road, they’re also hints and references to his experiences: most notably his nomadic, traveling ways, a relationship that was heavily one-sided and his broken heart that he never quite healed from.

24. what gang/faction/corporation do they align with, if any?

Embry used to be part of a decent sized Nomad clan based in New Mexico, but has since parted ways from them. Now a days, he's a lone wolf, though he's quickly getting tired of being alone. Once he gets to Night City though, none of the gangs really call out to him. In fact, most actually put him off quite a bit.

41. do they believe in soulmates?

He thought he did. He really, really thought he did. After he got his heartbroken, he’s a bit more pessimistic when it comes to soulmates. He does believe in love and loving deeply, but he doesn’t really think one person is meant for another. His mind could be changed though 😎He just had a bad experience.

42. do they believe in love at first sight?

He does, in a way. He believes in instant sparks and when he automatically clicks with someone, he does tend to just gravitate to that person from then on out. However, he’s just very hesitant to allow someone close to him like that. So while he might automatically be interested in someone the second they catch his eye, Embry struggles to call it “love at first” sight.

68. in what outfit do they feel sexiest? how do they dress to impress?

I don’t think Embry has ever had a “nice outfit” in his entire life. He’s always dusty jeans, harnesses and usual nomad wear. No time to get all spiffied up when you live in the wastelands, you know? However, the more time he spends with the gang, he’ll start to take advice from Renato and the Twins. He probably sticks to an all black attire: black slacks and a black button down (a few buttons undone at the top to show off his chest and rolled up at the sleeves). Even goes with a nice spritz of cologne. He rather likes how he cleans up even though he’s slightly out of his element, and probably asks for more fashion advice, particularly from Paolo, since he likes how he dresses. But he tries really hard to make sure he looks good for a date.

[kerwritesthings]

Homecoming

Summary: It hurts to crash and fall, but helps when you have someone to help pick you back up

Word Count: little over 2.2k

Warning: fluff with a slight touch of oh sad, cursing and a little illusion to naughty

Author Notes: So hey, muse is back, feeling it and she’s a cranking. I had general thoughts on this since end of Final and return to play, bullets I had vomited, maybe a paragraph but it never went anywhere. After I got J’s challenge done, it kind of just poured out in regards to those two kids. This is part of what’s now officially the Orange Blossom verse since I’m fully attached to Tyler and Clementine. 

Guess I need to get a hockey masterlist together now? Cause yeah, more words coming here for them (possibly a NSWF back half to this? maybe?) and on a few other hockey boys. Also, maybe even getting some Shawn words out too? #museisfeelingit

We’re taking off. I finally get to say see you and the boys later and really mean it.

You knew straightaway when the buzzer sounded the other night this was going to be hard, harder than last year for sure. When you talked after, it shattered you hearing him that way. You couldn’t be there and that hurt. You also knew there was more than he was letting on or even telling you, but you weren’t pushing him then; it wasn’t worth it. There’d be a time and place for that.

We’ll be waiting xo

You try to get as much set and ready, at least for the next 48 hours, so you can just both be. Fridge and pantry are full, everything is clean top to bottom inside and out. As you run through the checklist in your head, you feel a heavy head plunk down on your knee with a whine.

“I know buddy, I miss him too. He’s coming home to us right now though. Only a couple more hours,” you scratch behind the golden lab’s ear. “Let me feed you and your crazy brothers so you’re not completely batshit when your Dad gets home.”

As soon as you say Dad, they lose their minds it seems. A raucous feeding and a subsequently needed clean up after of both the kitchen and you, time is closer than you thought. You’re refiling the Brita when you hear the locks clicking open and the telltale plunk of bags hitting the floor. Then he’s there in the doorway between the hall and the kitchen. You just look at him for a moment and truly exhale for the first time since he called after the game, he’s finally home.

“Hi,” you smile, stepping closer to him.

“There’s my babygirl,” Tyler sighs deeply, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around you. “Fuck, I missed you, so damn much Emmy.”

You hold him just as close, nodding into his chest trying not to cry. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and breathes in and out slowly. Your arms wind around his waist as you feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin.

“It’s too quiet…” he starts.

“They’re outside. They were going crazy in the house; I think they could tell from my energy you were coming back,” you explain. “That or it was just another Wednesday.”

He bites a chuckle back, his lips dusting against your neck.

“May need your help with them,” he murmurs against your skin.

“How bad?” you ask, hands sliding up to his face, pulling him away to look straight at you.

He’s tired, it’s all over his face. He just shrugs.

“Tyler…” you start.

“Bad,” he mumbles out, eyes slipping shut as your fingers start looping in his hair sticking out from his hat. “Doc wants me in for scans and testing tomorrow afternoon.  I’m gonna need you to drive me please, J dropped me off because I couldn’t.”

That’s why you didn’t hear the rumbling of an engine or the garage door.

“Where?” you tread lightly.

“Better to ask me where not, Em. You know the knees were acting up before we went into lockdown, but they were better than before when we went back for phase two,” he replies. “Then the hip started at the end of camp here probably from the other shit. I thought we had it under control before we left and the knees were feeling less shitty. I played the one game in round robin. Wasn’t great, but it wasn’t crazy pain and I’ve played through worse. They backed me out for precautions, you know that. Thought the rest and therapy on it would do it.”

“But then?” you probe carefully, knowing he wasn’t letting on how much the bumps and bruises of playoffs were really affecting him when he would call.

“All kind of went to hell from there though and it just unraveled,” he sighs deeply. “Definitely the right hip. Left is tweaked from compensating. Wrist was nagging too. Everything fucking hurt but, I just. I couldn’t let them down, I couldn’t. It’s playoffs. Not when we were pushing and we were that damn close. So fucking close.”

Tyler sniffs and drops his head to your shoulder.

“You have the biggest heart baby; you’d never let them down. They know that. But you need to take care of yourself and not break yourself to the point of disrepair, Tyler. Not good for them or for you, especially if you want to keep on playing,” you say. “Tabling this for now though. Let’s go see the boys, then I think you need some food, a soak and some sleep.”

“You’re forgetting something,” he whispers into your shirt, his hands holding firm at your hips.

“Hmm?” you question.

“You, I most definitely need you, Emmy,” he picks his head up and smirks before leaning into kiss you.

It starts sweet, light even then he presses into it. Tongue swiping and teeth nibbling, it’s warming up quickly. His hands flex tighter, drawing you even closer into him. You can already feel him half hard against you.

“Ty,” you break away, breathless. “Not if…”

“Nope, non-negotiable. We’ll figure out a way. It’s been almost two fucking months,” he utters against your lips before pressing into another kiss, this one quick. “I hear them losing their shit out there. Come on.”

He snags your hand, tangling your fingers together and tugging you towards the French doors to the patio. You can tell immediately in his gait, he’s in a good deal of discomfort. Knowing him, he’s refused anything heavy pain killer wise while he was playing, other than the extra strength Advil he’s only been comfortable taking. Maybe some cortisone if the inflammation wasn’t subsiding and even that would be a push to get him to agree to.

“Don’t even think about getting down on the grass you, I saw the limping,” you chide, pushing him down onto the lounge chair. “They can all attack you from here.”

He pouts, but you just flick his ear, then yank the hat off his head.

“Boys, look who I found for you,” you call out.

Three large dog heads whip around at once and make a break for you two. You back out of the way, giving the labs more than enough room to get up and around the chair. Once the initial may lay of wagging tails, jumping excitement and licking backs down, Gerry ends up on the lounge wedging himself on and between Tyler��s legs as he thinks he’s still tiny, with Cash and Marshall on either side their heads in his lap.

“Who’s the best boys? Did you miss me? I missed you. Were you good for Mom while I was gone?” he asks them, petting them each as they bask in having him back. “You better have taken good care of her. We had an agreement.”

“As good as being in the house with three boys without their dad could be,” you laugh from behind the chair, hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “They were good to cuddle with, especially on game nights.”

“Not as good as me though,” he tips his head back with a cheeky grin.

“Debatable Tyler,” you tease, bopping his nose.

“Hey,” he pouts, lip jutting out.

“You can remind me later,” you murmur, dropping a kiss to his forehead. “You spend some time with the motley crew out here. Don’t you think about running or leaving that chair, really. I’ll get some stuff pulled together in the kitchen. Any requests? I stockpiled on some of your favorites.”

“Did you make your chicken bake?” his eyes light up as he thinks about what to ask for.

“Of course I did, you asked me about that a few times when you were griping about food options,” you grin. “I’ll get that and salad ready. Boys, you need to take it easy with Dad, he’s more broken than he’s willing to admit.”

You head back into the house and into the kitchen. As you’re turning from the oven to start on the salad, you hear the thump of paws first before feeling a plop of a head on your feet.

“Marsh baby, why aren’t you outside with your Daddy?” your eyebrows knit as you look down at the dog.

The dog just huffs and sighs with big eyes looking up at you.

“He’s back now with us buddy,” you wipe your hands on a towel before bending down to pet him. “He’s missed you just as much as you missed him. You’re his first baby. Go love on him some more.”

Marshall just whines again, nudging you to try to make you cuddle with him on the kitchen floor.

“Let me finish this up, then we can all snuggle on the couch ok?” you bargain, heading to the sink to wash your hands before finishing the salad.

He didn’t leave your side as you went on your way to get the meal together, sticking closer than he did when Tyler first left. The bake would be in for a bit longer, so you slide the salad into the fridge just as everyone filters back into the house.

“Your oldest son has abandonment issues,” you call out. “Tyler, you best not. Get your ass on the couch, I’ll pull him over. There’s no rolling on the floor.”

“He’s always been the most sensitive, worse in his old age,” he jokes, sliding an arm around your waist to lean into you.

“He’s not that old, be nice,” you poke at his side. “Marshall just loves you that much. That needs like 20-25 more minutes in the oven. Salad’s done, so it’ll be easy once this is warmed through. Come on; couch, pups and maybe I’ll even let you get handsy.”

Tyler turns you, palms sliding up your hips around to your back to pull you into him. You go easily and willingly.

“Thank you, Emmy,” he says softly, nosing at your temple. “I’m so lucky I get to come home to not only these three but to you too. Means a lot. I love how much you care about those three nutzos in there as much as how much you love me. And I know it’s not easy at times, but I hope you know that without question, I love you. I love you more every damn day and I want to keep showing you that.”

You didn’t expect that. It’s never been a question on your feelings for each other, but it always hits you when Tyler gets into his feelings like that. You don’t even respond with words; you just pop up onto your toes to kiss him.

“Love you too Ty,” you murmur, a breath away from his lips.

As soon as you both settle into the couch, letting him get comfortable first as you saw the grimace when he initially sat down, the dogs fall into place too. Even if it’s only for a short break, it’s nice to feel like things are settling back into a sense of normalcy. You close your eyes and exhale, probably for the first time since they came off the ice after game six.

“Bath after dishes?” you start as you shuffle plates off the table. “No fighting me, you need it. You’re wincing at every other movement. I picked up some eucalyptus soak with Epsom salt, so you won’t smell like my lavender or jasmine.”

“You joining me?” he wiggles his eyebrows, grin as wicked as ever after taking a sip from his glass.

“We’re not fucking in the tub Tyler,” you chide him as you load the dishwasher. “Busted hips do not make for good times with water sports even with as big as that soaker is.”

“Wrecking all my fun,” he sighs with the grin still evident. “But I guess you’re right. If I promise to kind of behave, will you join me?”

You can’t help but scoff a laugh.

“Kind of behave? Shit’s sake. Only you, Tyler,” you swing back around to the table, dusting a kiss to his temple. “Let me go get stuff ready and the water all set in there.”

“Someone needs to make sure I wash behind my ears amongst other places,” he gets cheeky, snagging you to pull you down onto his lap. “No one better than you for that, baby.”

He nips at your ear before nuzzling his face into your neck before tightening his arms around your waist. You’ve missed this, missed him.

“You can distract me all you want, but I’m still not fucking you in that tub,” you laugh, your hands tracing loops and swirls against the black ink over his forearm before trailing down his hands.

“Was at least worth a shot, but I’ll take you wet, naked and full of bubbles in the water with me,” he sighs, biting at your jaw before pushing you off his lap. He takes a swat at your ass as you’re walking away.

“I’ll add bubbles, just for you, since you asked so nicely,” you call out over your shoulder, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Put that away unless you plan on using that, preferably on me,” he shouts back in the midst of laughing.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 10 of 16

Wow, I updated. What a shockerrrrr

~~~~~~~~~~

You bounced on the heels of your feet, anxious and excited, waiting behind the front door of your shared apartment with Teresa.

She somehow convinced Ava Paige to let you roam around the city for a few hours, saying that it would be helpful for you. You had no idea if that would be true, but you were grateful anyway. Although, you were going to be guarded the entire time. 

You understood why, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“You ready?” Teresa smiled at you.

You nodded. “Yeah, ready to leave this place for once.”

“Just be careful, okay? Listen to the guard, and don’t try and escape. I won’t be able to do anything for you if you misbehave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right...”

There was a loud knock on the front door, opening it to reveal your guard for the afternoon, dressed in casual attire so he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself.

“Love you...”

You looked back at Teresa, slightly scowling. You tried not to scoff as you exited the apartment.

As soon as you left the building, you went wide eyed at how different the Last City looked from the ground. You had only seen it from that window, but now you were actually experiencing it for yourself.

Mostly everybody walking around were wearing masks, probably paranoid about getting the Flare. But you frowned when you saw how many children were walking with their parents, and infants in strollers.

You couldn’t help but almost tear up at the thought of all those kids dying from the Flare. You thought of your baby sister, how you would’ve done anything to save her and your parents if you had the chance.

But you forced yourself to think back to Minho, to all the kids that W.C.K.D. were torturing. You could never condone what they did, what they’re still doing. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw something that almost made your heart skip a beat. But you just decided it was your imagination. It had to be, right?

You looked to your left, and you realized it couldn’t be your mind playing tricks on you.

Thomas?

You went wide eyed when you saw him, in the middle of the street, no less. He gave you a smile, his eyes telling you to follow him. But with the soldier that was assigned to guard you, you knew it wouldn’t be so easy.

You wished you could tell him you needed to come up with a plan first.

It took so much convincing and begging from Teresa just for you to leave your cell. Trying to convince Ava to allow you to walk around the city, even for your mental health, was damn near impossible.

So how the hell were you going to ditch your guard?

You quickly surveyed the area, seeing different types of shops, company buildings, and restaurants of that sort.

Then suddenly, the idea hit you. You could almost feel the metaphorical lightbulb going off above your head. You turned back to look at your guard. “I literally have to take the biggest shit right now.”

You guard cringed in disgust. “Can’t you wait?”

“Do you want me to shit my pants, dude? The tower is so far away, I won’t be able to make it. Please.” You begged, trying to pull the best puppy dog eyes you never thought you’d ever do in your life.

The guard sighed. “Alright, fine.” He led you into some clothing store, going to the very back where the bathrooms were. “Try to hurry.”

You quickly entered the bathroom, grinning to yourself as you immediately noticed the window at the back of the room. It wasn’t too small. Thankfully, you weren’t too large. It would be a squeeze, but you’d make do.

You locked the door, pushing the trashcan in front just in case. Hopping up on the toilet seat as quietly as possible, reaching up to open the window. You jumped, thrusting yourself into the opening, trying not to groan in pain as the edge put pressure on your stomach.

You looked down to see the window was in the middle of an alleyway, away from the busy street. Huh, how lucky...

You fell very ungracefully out of the window, landing on the concrete with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“That definitely could’ve been executed better.”

You jumped at the voice, hopping to your feet, but slowly relaxing when you saw Thomas smiling softly at you. And just like that, all the pain you endured from Teresa, all the hopelessness you felt while trapped in that tower, it all seemed to fade away, just from that one smile.

You ran to him, quickly enthralling him in a tight hug. You heard Thomas chuckle breathlessly from the force of your embrace, but he held you back just as tightly.

Memories of laughing together played over and over again in your mind as you held onto him. You already cared for Thomas, but having the memories back...you couldn’t explain it. He felt more and more like a true brother as the seconds passed.

Reuniting with him just felt like a breath of the cleanest air in the world, almost like how it felt after it rained in the Glade.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked once you pulled away.

“I am now.” You tried to smile, but it only came out forced.

Thomas frowned when he looked you over. Your eyes were dull, almost sunken in, like you hadn’t slept in years. You were well fed, but you still looked malnourished due to how pale you looked.

“What happened to you?” His voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to ask.

“It’s a long story...a story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid. My guard is waiting. So, whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

Thomas smirked, making you confused. “You underestimate me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry, I’ve taken care of it.”

You cringed. “Should I even ask?”

“Come on.” Thomas grabbed your hand, leading you out of the alleyway and to a van. You stopped, looking to him with hesitance. “It’s okay.” He smiled reassuringly.

You sighed. “I’m trusting you, Thomas.”

You hopped into the back of the van with Thomas, and it quickly took off. During the whole ride, he had a content look on his face. It couldn’t help but make you feel uneasy. Where were you even going?

The van soon came to a halt, and Thomas turned to you. “We have to walk from here. For our safety and yours, you’ll have to be blindfolded until we get there.”

You shook your head. “Wait, no, Thomas-”

“I’ll be with you the entire time, okay? You’re gonna be safe, I promise. You said you trusted me, right?” You nodded reluctantly, and with that, Thomas gently put a cloth bag over your head, completely obscuring your vision.

You both exited the van, Thomas holding your hand as he led you through wherever you were. You were almost sure you were cutting off his blood circulation with how hard you were squeezing his hand, but he kept telling you that you were okay.

“Okay, we’re here.” Thomas removed the bag and you could finally see.

You looked around to see that you were in some sort of abandoned church. Why here?

“Y/N...”

You froze, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears...you knew that voice, that voice was in your dreams every single night. But, no, it couldn’t be possible...he was dead.

You slowly looked up to see who the voice belonged to. You felt a sudden chill go down your spine as you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was this a dream? A nightmare? No, it couldn’t be real. You were still at W.C.K.D. You must be. They must be trying to trick you into believing that you escaped.

But still, knowing that it wasn’t real didn’t stop you from shedding tears. “This is so sick...even for them.” You cried.

Thomas took a step forward, but you immediately recoiled. “Y/N, what’re you talking about?”

You quickly shut your eyes tightly, placing your hands to your ears to try and block out the booming thuds in your head. “This isn’t real. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” You kept telling yourself. “Please, stop this. Wake up...”

“Y/N, stop. You’re okay. You’re not dreaming.” Thomas tried to console you.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like a whole Griever was sitting on your chest, putting intense pressure on your lungs. You couldn’t control the sobs that rattled in your chest, making you tremble.

“One, two, seven, five, three...three, five, seven, two, one...”

You soon felt a pair of arms wrap around you. Thomas tried to calm you down, but it wasn’t working. You heard him order everyone out of the room.

This is such an elaborate simulation...

“Y/N...” Thomas whispered. “You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re not at W.C.K.D. This is real. I’m real. Me, Thomas.”

You looked up at Thomas, almost expecting him to turn into some horrid monster from the twisted imaginations of the people that experimented on you. But he didn’t. He just stared at you with the utmost concern in his golden brown eyes. You were so afraid to speak, you wanted this to be real so bad.

“You’re real?” Your voice broke.

Thomas nodded, smiling through the pain of seeing you in such a state. “Yes. Yes, I’m real.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, keeping your hold on Thomas. “Wait...but that means...”

Gally was alive?

After a few more minutes of trying to pull yourself together again, Thomas thought it was finally safe to bring everyone back in one by one. First, Newt entered the room.

“Newt.” You walked to him, quickly engulfing him in a hug.

“You’ve looked better, love.” He joked, well, it sounded like a joke to you, but he was really concerned.

“So have you.” You replied. “You need a haircut.” You tried to tease, but it didn’t make him smile.

Frypan couldn’t wait that much longer and entered the room and ran to you, giving you a huge bear hug that startled you, but you didn’t expect anything less when it came to your friend.

Then, Brenda and Jorge came out. “You’re still alive?” You asked her, shocked that she hasn’t turned into a Crank by now.

“Disappointed?” She smirked, pushing you softly before wrapping her arms around you while Jorge gave you a friendly smile.

And last but not least.

He walked in slowly, so slowly that it almost looked like slow motion. He didn’t want to scare you, certainly didn’t want to give you another panic attack. He wasn’t expecting that reaction. But he guessed it was reasonable, considering that seeing a person you thought was dead was suddenly not dead, but very much alive.

You felt more tears brimming your eyes again. The feelings of being in a simulation coming back, but this was real. He was real, and he was here. He was alive somehow.

“Gally?” You whimpered pitifully.

“Hey, Y/N...” Gally said, tears of his own brimming his eyes.

“You’re alive...”

Gally wanted to run to you, hug you and never let you go. But he knew how sensitive you were right now. So, he stayed where he was. “Yeah...I am.” He chuckled softly.

Almost like something clicked in your brain, you finally one hundred percent believed that this was all real. You didn’t wait one more second, you went to him. You ran to Gally and threw yourself on to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “You’re really here...” You cried, squeezing even more tightly than you already were.

Gally wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his face to your neck to breathe you in, making sure you were really there with him as he almost didn’t believe it himself.

The both of you stayed that way, almost four whole minutes of keeping in each other’s embrace. The only reason you pulled away was to look at him. He had a buzzcut, and he felt even stronger than he was in the Glade. He had a couple tears rolling down his face as he looked at you.

“How?” You stuttered. “How are you alive?”

Gally smiled. “Long story.”

His voice. You missed hearing his voice so much. You missed everything about him. His eyes, they were just as blue as the day you left him. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Gally. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” You declared, the tears not even slowing down.

Gally reached up and caressed your face, and you leaned into his gentle touch. “I never stopped thinking about you. The thought that I might see you again was the only reason I could wake up in the morning.”

Gally pulled you back into his chest, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas starting to walk over to the two of you. One glare from Gally was all it took for him to back off. He was not going to let that Greenie ruin this moment.

“I never thought I’d see you again...” You hiccupped.

“I’m here...I’m here.” Gally cooed. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

 bruh finalllyyyy 😭 

[the-bee-graveyard]

The Fine Line

Chapter Two

Hello! So this is my first chapter fic. It’s a Newt's and Brendresa fic (I’m hoping to write a Kitty one soon, sorry for my neglect to the TDA fandom recently) so um yeah I hope you like it

Sorry for any misspellings/grammar errors I did proofread, but I’m super inattentive so I probably missed stuff.

WARNING: Major Spoilers for The Death Cure

Story Summary: Newt and Teresa both survive the destruction of the last city and are brought to the safe haven with all their friends. Newt is welcomed back with open arms, and most people learn to forgive Teresa, all but the one person she wants to forgive her the most. Oblivious!Newtmas and Enemies-to-lovers!Brendresa. Minho and Sonya are sick of their friend’s being stupid. A little bit of Soniet and Mingally because I’m weak for them. Sonya and Minho are an unexpected Brotp I now can’t live without. Might actually be even more chaotic than my last fic. Combining movie and book logic because I feel like it. Pining because I said so. I might make a playlist for this fic because I like playlists.

Chapter Summary: both Teresa and Newt unexpectedly wake up in the safe haven, and Minho and Sonya don’t even give them time to catch their breaths because they’ve spotted their OTP’s and they won’t stop until they get them together. 

Chapter One: Fine Line Between Love and Hate

Part One: Teresa’s POV

Teresa used to think she knew everything. She’d been told so by many people. Those same people fed her so many lies, but it took her long to figure out that was one of them, maybe because that was the only lie she’d ever truly believed down deep in her heart. Thomas used to say she knew everything too, and maybe once he stopped believing that she did too. No matter the cause, she  now knew that there were a lot of things she didn’t know, but she did know this one thing:

She was supposed to be dead.

The last thing she remembered were the walls of her lab in the last city coming down on her. She saw a large chunk of concrete hit Janson right in the face right before she hit her head on the floor and blacked out . She could assume the rest of the building went down shortly after that. That was the end of her life, right?

So you could imagine her confusion when she woke up in a cot, not in hell.

“Great, you’re alive,” A sarcastic voice said from beside her bed. She’d recognize that voice anywhere, it had plagued her dreams and nightmares for months in the last city, for reasons Teresa didn’t understand. But now the voice was more than just a nightmare. She’d assume she’d actually woken up in hell, but the person who spoke hadn’t died and sure as heck would not have ended up in hell. They were everything Teresa could not be, and for the longest time Teresa had hated them for it.

“Brenda,” Teresa gasped. She sat up, pushing the blankets off herself and swinging her legs over the bed. As soon as she lifted her head off the pillow she regretted it, her head pounding. Brenda sat on a stool next to the bed, her legs crossed, looking bored. Teresa must have flinched from the pain or something since Brenda threw her an ice pack.

“Concussion, you hit your head pretty badly back in the last city. When Minho and I got you out of there we thought you might be already dead. The medic’s say you’ll make a full recovery, you’ve just got to take it easy for a few weeks,” Brenda explained. Brenda looked different since the last time she’d seen her. She’d cut her hair again, not as short as she had it when the two first met, but shorter than it was when Brenda and all of Teresa’s former friends kidnapped her and forced her to tell them how to get into WICKED’s headquarters.

Brenda being alive was good. Brenda being alive meant that she made it out of WICKED headquarters, which meant at least a few others had to have. A wave of grief suddenly hit Teresa, not for Brenda but for Newt. Thomas never came before the building came down on her. Maybe they could have made another cure for their friend once they got out of the city and to wherever they were now, but Teresa remembers how Newt was the last time she saw him. He had an hour left in him, that’s if they were lucky. There’s no way he could have made it wherever they were without cranking out, and Newt would have never allowed himself to get that far, to get that close to hurting his friends.

One way or another, Newt was dead. Another person’s blood on Teresa’s hands, someone Teresa long ago considered to be one of her best friends. And he died hating her, and she'd given him every right too. 

“Can you explain to me what happened?” Teresa asked once she could make herself speak again.

“You came over the speaker and gave a whole thousand word speech on how Thomas could save Newt. When we got to Newt with the serum Thomas had knocked him out to keep him alive. We gave him the serum and Thomas told us to go get you and the cure, so we did, but the building kind of fell apart. We got out just in time, we found you clutching the cure,” Brenda explained. Teresa exhaled, Newt made it. She didn’t have to add his name to the long list of those she killed. “I suggested we kill you, we got what we needed from you and someone else could recreate the cure. You can thank Thomas for being alive, he insisted we didn’t do anything to you. He was even hesitant about letting me take my shift watching over you, I guess he thought I’d strangle you in your sleep or something.”

“Where is he? Thomas?” Teresa asked.

“With Newt, we haven’t been able to peel him away from him since we got back.” Teresa couldn’t hide her grin, she always knew there was something going on between Newt and Thomas, even before the maze. She and Minho used to bet on them as children, betting their pudding cups on if they’d walk into a room holding hands or something like that. 

But thanks to her none of her friends remembered that.

“I’m sorry Brenda, I really am. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’ll do anything to prove it. I hurt you all, and you should hate me for the rest of eternity, but I really wanted to be your friend at one point. I still do.” Brenda stood up.

“Save it for someone who cares Teresa, ‘cause I sure don’t. I never liked you.” Brenda began to walk about of the shack they were in. Teresa didn’t know why the words hurt so much, she’d never liked Brenda either. They did though. Brenda turned around in the doorway. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake though, they’ve been worried, even if they won’t admit it.”

Part Two: Thomas’s POV

Thomas was half asleep when he heard Newt mutter something. He sat right up in his chair next to Newt, waiting. It had been over two weeks since they’d gotten back from the last city, and both Newt and Teresa hadn’t woke up. 

“Tommy,” Newt mumbled.

“I’m right here Newt, it’s me,” Thomas said, leaning in closer. He felt guilty about it, but he hadn’t even gone to visit Teresa, wanting to be there when Newt woke up. 

After a minute Newt’s eyes opened, and they were clear. The black veins had faded from his body shortly after they injected the cure into Thomas, but he hadn’t opened his eyes since then so Thomas saw the insane look in them every time he closed his eyes.

“Oh my god Newt, you’re alive,” Thomas threw is arms around his friend, pulling him into a tight hug, afraid to let go. Newt laughed in Thomas’s embrace. 

“Still a bit confused on that part, care to explain how?” Newt said. A wave of relief hit Thomas again. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if Newt died, he couldn’t make it in a world without his best friend.

“Teresa,” Thomas said. “Teresa made a cure. It was my blood the whole time, she just figured it out first.” Thomas sighed. “I feel like an idiot Newt, I could have spared you all that pain the whole time.”

“Oh shut up you twat,” Newt said. “I would’ve died long before the flare without you. You save me every day just by being there. You-”

“Thomas!” Minho called, interrupting Newt’s statement which Thomas really wanted to hear the end of. “Teresa’s awake and looking for you.” Minho came into the tent.

“Good to see you too,” Newt said, rolling his eyes sarcastically and grinning fondly. Minho gasped and hugged Newt tightly. 

“I was so worried,’ Minho said. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again you ugly shank.”

“Can’t breathe,” Newt gasped. Minho let go of Newt and laughed.

“Hold on, Gally and Frypan are with Teresa, but there’s one other person who’s been waiting for you to wake up,” Minho said before dashing out the tent. He came back a few minutes later with a familiar blonde girl by his side.

Sonya had explained to them all that when WICKED took her and Aris they’d given their memories back, but she’d never been able to tell Newt she remembered they were siblings before he ran off to follow Thomas.

“Do you remember me?” Sonya asked timidly from the doorway. Newt didn’t respond for a minute, and Sonya’s face fell. “That's a stupid question. You’ve met me after the swipe, you remember me as Sonya, but why would I think you’d remember me as-”

“How could I ever forget you Lizzy?” Newt said, his voice cracking. Tears streamed down Sonya’s face as it lit up and she attacked her brother with a strong embrace. “The flare must have damaged the swipe. I don't remember everything, but I remember some. Enough.” Thomas suddenly became conscious to the fact he was holding Newt’s hand. 

“We’ll leave you two to catch up if you’d like,” Thomas offered. Newt squeezed his hand tightly.

“Please don’t go,” Newt said. “I want you to stay.” Thomas knew the words were directed at all of them, but it felt like they were meant just for him. His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Part Three: Minho’s POV

Minho had always been a guy who was relatively fond of people around him falling in love, but he sure as hell wasn’t fond of people around him being completely oblivious to the fact that they’re in love. 

Minho usually had his routine “Newt and Thomas were fools before all this and Thomas is an even bigger fool now because he still hasn’t realized his feelings for Newt” rant with Brenda and/or Gally, but Gally had gone to take his shift accompanying Teresa, who said she still wasn’t ready to face Thomas and Newt, and Brenda had stalked off after telling them Teresa had woken up.

So when Sonya plopped down next to Minho on the log he sat on in front of the bonfire and said, “Can Newt and Thomas just kiss already?” Minho figured she’d have to do.

Minho quickly stole a glance over to where the pair sat laughing on a log with Jorge and Vince. Thomas had his arm around Newt and Newt had his head rested on “Tommy’s” shoulder. When Minho made a comment on it they said “it’s just a bro thing”. Over the past few weeks Minho had sat like that with Gally multiple times, and it was most certainly not a bro thing. 

“It’s so annoying isn’t it?” Minho said. “I was trapped in a maze and the scorch with them, I’ve been dealing with it a lot longer than you have.” It would cause Minho to rip out his hair, but his hair was so beautiful he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

“Even Aris caught onto it, and it took him to see Harriet and I kiss in front of him five times before he realized we were together back in the maze,” Sonya rolled her eyes. 

A brilliant idea came to Minho. Of course, all of his ideas were brilliant, but this one was even more brilliant than the others.

“How about we put an end to this pining?” Minho asked Sonya, grinning wickedly.

“Got anything in mind?” She asked him. Sweet Sonya, sweet innocent Sonya. if only she knew he had not one thing in mind, but multiple things in mind that were all incredibly risky and might cause Vince to banish them all, but they all had the same result: Newt and Thomas getting together.

“I do, but we can’t do it alone. Get Harriet and Aris and I’ll get Gally, Frypan, Teresa, and Brenda and we can all meet at the beach tomorrow after curfew.” 

“Should I be scared?”

“Probably, but not that much. I’ve done crazier things, and look at me, I’m still here.”

“Okay then.” Sonya was also grinning like crazy, and Minho knew this was the birth of a beautiful friendship, one built on interfering in other people’s for the better.

[abarbaricyalp]

handholding- 10/12/13

hugs - 34

kisses - 7/13/27

touching - 47

sambucky :)

Buddies, I literally cannot believe I managed to get all of these done without being too repetitive.

Handholding 10: Happily doing everything with one hand if that means they don't have to let go is already posted on my blog and on AO3: ElisabethMonroe: (til i carry you home) Your Hand in My Hand

Reblogging with AO3 links in a second

Kisses 27: Desperate Kisses

Inhale My Soul

(Listen, listen y'all, you don't know how many different universes of them dying and bleeding out in each other's arms y'all aren't reading here. I didn't do that to you. You're welcome)

Dissolving hadn’t felt like anything. Sam wasn’t sure he even understood what was actually happening. Maybe he’d thought it was just a trick of the reality stone. Maybe human minds weren’t meant to comprehend anything close to what had happened.

Coming back felt like dying.

He woke up on his back and he couldn’t breathe. It was like he had no lungs at all, just a trachea spasming in his throat without air, like a gills with no water. He grasped for the ground and the feeling of dirt was horrifying, a grave waiting to swallow him down into the Earth. The wind was knives on his skin. His suit felt like it was trying to pry his spine from his ribs. His legs ached like someone was trying to stretch the bones on a crank.

He must’ve screamed but there was no air to make a noise.

Finally sight came back and the first thing he saw were the trees falling over him, ready to crush him and hide him again.

Had anyone seen him disappear? No one was by his side. No one looked for him.

No, the trees weren’t falling. They were swaying in the wind. The sun kept gliding down through them with every shuffle of the leaves.

It was so quiet he felt like he could hear the leaves sighing as they grew.

It took him too long to realize the ragged breath that broke the silence like a gunshot came from his own chest. The hands digging his own grave shot to his chest, felt the rise and fall of his ribs and lungs, the proof that he was breathing. He was alive again.

He rolled onto his side and heaved until his ribs creaked, still firmly attached to his spine. There was nothing to come up, but the noise was comforting, the ache that he could name and handle was safe. Human. Living human.

His knees were in his legs when he leaned back on his haunches. They sank into the earth but the grave didn’t swallow him down. No unwilling sacrifice to be taken from him. He brought his dirt covered fingers--firm and whole and attached to him--up to his face. He found his cheeks, a beard with edges that were too straight for a man who had died and been put back together, his teeth. They throbbed in his gums like they were all about to fall out but they were there in his head. His tongue.

He could speak.

“Steve!” he shouted and his throat screamed in protest, the air in his lungs turned to fire. “Steve!” he called again and forced himself to his feet. His boots were tied. His pants were still tucked into them. There was no blood, which seemed wrong. He felt flayed open and left to soak into the ground. How could there be no blood?

“Steve!”

God, if Steve was dead…

Sam couldn’t lose more people. He couldn’t fight his way back. Not after this. Not while everything hurt so fucking much.

“Steve, please, God, where are you?!”

“Sam?”

Sam whirled around at the tired voice. The trees danced in his vision. The grass clutched at his legs, which still felt like they were being stretched out and sunk into the earth. The trees were going to take him over. The grass was going to eat him again. No one was looking. No one would find him. Why wasn’t anyone ever looking for him?

“Sam?” the voice called again.

Footsteps. Crushing grass. A metal screech in the bark of a tree. A colorful curse. “Sam, fuck, shout again!”

Sam stumbled forward, breaking free of the natural world trying to take him away again. He shoved himself away from a tree and crashed into a warm, solid, human body.

“Jesus, Sam,” Bucky breathed and wrapped his arms around Sam tightly. It hurt in the best way. Sam held him back, face hidden in Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t even care about what gore he was smearing all over himself. Bucky’s hand came to the back of Sam’s head and Sam almost expected it to hit exposed brain but it didn’t. Instead his calloused fingers brushed over Sam’s short hair, smoothing over the natural lines and divots in it until goosebumps erupted over Sam’s skin.

Right. Things could feel good. That was part of being human and alive.

He had no idea how long they stood there. His shoulders were aching, but in a pleasant way that reminded him that there was something he loved right in front of him, in his arms.

Bucky was the first to move, stepping back half a step, a quarter of a step, barely any at all, just enough to bring his hands up to either side of Sam’s face. The cheeks and the mouth and the skin that was all there and new again. He tilted Sam’s head back, eyes intense and clear in front of Sam.

Had it not felt the same for him? Was he not grappling with his ridiculously weak claim to existence? Or, fuck, was this how he always felt after being frozen and woken up? Had he been going through this for seventy years with no one to run to? With no one to hold him and remind him that things could feel good?

Sam’s fingers tightened in Bucky’s vest and just as Bucky was starting to say something Sam couldn’t honestly answer--something about how he felt, if anything hurt, if he needed medical attention--Sam hauled him down into a desperate kiss. Their noses smashed together and pain bloomed across Sam’s face, made his eyes water, made him want to sneeze, made him want to lean into it all the more, like the pressed-on-bruise ache of Bucky’s arms around him.

He felt Bucky’s teeth notch a split into Sam’s lip by accident, crushed together with nowhere to go. Finally it softened. Bucky’s mouth pressed against his until Sam felt like he could actually breathe, until he could make his mouth do what he wanted, catch Bucky’s lower lip between both of his, wring out a noise he’d never heard the other man make before. Bucky’s hands on his face kept him close and Sam’s fingers tightened in his vest. He wanted to crawl into Bucky’s chest--felt like, maybe, he could after being unmade and remade. Their noses knocked together again as Sam tried to turn his head, kiss the other side of Bucky’s mouth, let Bucky bruise the rest of his lips.

Bucky pulled away, but didn’t let go of Sam’s face. Cool air flowed into Sam’s lungs until all of his bones and muscles felt like they slotted back into place.

“I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am to see you alive,” Bucky breathed.

We should talk about this. That. Later.

“I thought everyone was gone. I don’t know… I didn’t know how I came back. I thought it was just me.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. There’s hundreds of people. Not everyone, but at least half of us.”

Half of them.

“Oh my God,” Sam said. “Thanos won. He wiped out half of the universe.”

“I think that was us. I think...someone brought us back,” Bucky said. Pain flashed over his face as he looked at Sam and then pulled him in for another kiss. Sam tried to understand a second chance in it, but all he could feel was Bucky and relief and adoration. He wasn’t sure where that one came from more--him or Bucky.

“There’s still a fight,” someone said from behind them. Another magic shithead. Terror clutched at Sam’s chest like magic itself was enough to unmake him again, take him away again. “There’s still a world to save.”

Bucky’s hand found Sam’s between their bodies. Sam took a breath with lungs that almost seemed to work again. “What’re we waiting for then?” he asked.

Kiss 13: Frustrated Kiss

Better Than None

“Barnes, you wanna jump in? Any time’s fine,” Sam called out, though the volume wasn’t actually necessary, since he had an earpiece in and Bucky was only a few feet away, leaned on what was left of a building’s wall.

“Nah, you seem to be handling it just fine,” Bucky called back with a nod.

Sam ducked under the robot arm that had been flung at him. “Barnes, I swear, as soon as I get my hands on you--” he threatened.

“Y’know, normally that gets me going but seein’ as you were so anti-giving me a good luck kiss, I don’t know if I believe you anymore.”

“We don’t have time for this!” Sam threw the shield to cut through seven wire-y necks and caught it at degree 355 of its arc.

“It’s just a kiss. Takes two/tenths of a second,” Bucky said.

“I meant this dumbass argument.” Sam jumped out of the way of an electrical charge and Bucky watched it sail dangerously close to his head.

“Damn, maybe I am lucky without you,” he said and didn’t move at all.

“Bucky,” Sam sighed and ripped the head off of the nearest robot.

“Hot. Wish I could show you my appreciation.”

“How does me not giving you a good luck kiss translate you into not giving me any kisses?”

“It only seems fair. You’re putting my well-being at risk. There should be consequences.”

“That’s not how it works! You’re the one not--” Jesus, he didn’t have time to fall for the bait. He freed a mini-EMP from his utility belt and hurled it at the cluster of robots trying to scale the debris that first responders were using as a barricade to the rest of the street. A few seconds later, the robots fell away, powerless and useless.

“I kind of felt that in my arm,” Bucky said.

Sam growled out a huff and stalked over to Bucky. He shoved the front of the shield against his chest a little roughly and leaned in to kiss him, mostly teeth and irritation. The bastard still looked pleased when Sam pulled away.

“Good luck. Now will you please go do your job?”

Bucky grinned, all teeth and victory, and bolted into action.

Kisses 7: Passionate Kiss

Hand holding 13: Linking hands during s**

Bring Heaven to You

Sam swore he could feel Bucky’s mouth all over him. Every inch of his skin felt electric and alive. Frankenstein’s creature surging to life after a bolt of lightning, every nerve and muscle singing at the same time, overwhelming sensation in the best way. Like a freefall that keep him tethered to the mismatched hands clutching at his hips, his ribs, his chest, his shoulders, his thighs, the backs of his knees. Like Bucky couldn’t decide where he should be shocking Sam back to life either.

Bucky dragged his hand down Sam’s side, flat and steady so Sam could feel the golden band on his finger scorching his skin like it was made of fire. Like vows and rings and heavy promises weren’t enough to prove they belonged to each other, like they needed it written in flesh and blood like everything else about their lives.

Hahahaha, no. The rest is on AO3. Link in the reblog

Hand holding 12: Possessive hand holding

A Green Monster, And No We Don’t Mean The Hulk

“Welcome back to the show, Captain America!” a bubbly, young talk show host greeted. Bucky assumed he’d watched at least a few seconds of the program at some point when he was making it his life mission not to leave his apartment, but he couldn’t place her name for the life of him. “And you brought Mr. Barnes with you!” This she said with much less genuine enthusiasm and didn’t seem all that thrilled to have to look away from Sam to address Bucky.

“Well, you know I can’t stay away too long,” Sam said with a friendly smile. He held out his hand and the host took it in both of hers. It was less a hand shake and more an excuse for her to hang onto Sam, it looked like.

Sam and Bucky sat in the cushy seats for guests and, even though they’d already walked through the staging of this whole farce, Bucky was still deeply tempted to take Sam’s seat so he was between Sam and the host.

“So, Sam, last time we saw each other, you weren’t yet Captain America.”

“Funny how fast things like that can change, right?” Sam asked with twinkling eyes. Bucky wondered if the cameras were bolted down and if he could wrench one free even if they were.

“Well, I think it’s still not soon enough,” the host said and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “You’ve always been Cap to us here. You’ve been so vocal about your mission statement as Captain America, so I won’t make you repeat yourself.” Sam nodded gratefully, though Bucky knew he’d repeat his goals and wishes until he ran out of breath if it meant one more person heard them and got inspired. “So I thought we could focus on what’s going on behind the scenes with you. Has anything else changed for you since you’ve been back?”

As if coming back to life wasn’t enough.

“Oh, definitely,” Sam said. “Buck and I just finished flipping a house down by my sister. Y’know, we got decent temporary accommodations--Buck still has his in New York--and staying with my sister again was nice, but there’s nothing like having a house to come home to that’s just ours. No pre-teens stealing all the food outta the fridge immediately after grocery shopping.”

The host laughed along with Sam, though her eyes couldn’t quite keep from flickering to Bucky. “It’s fun that you’re rooming with Mr. Barnes. Does it feel like having college roommates again?”

Sam frowned, opened his mouth to answer, ran through a bunch of diplomatic ways to say what should’ve been obvious but wasn’t because this lady was into Sam. Which, like, Bucky couldn’t blame her for. But he was anyway.

He reached over to grab Sam’s hand where it was picking at a loose thread in his pants. “Actually, it’s more like just living with a partner,” he answered for Sam. “That’s something else that’s changed too, huh?” he directed at Sam. “Turns out, with consistent showers and therapy, he thinks I’m pretty charming.”

Sam frowned again and scoffed. “No, I do not. That hasn’t changed.”

The host laughed again, forced but a decent show anyway. “Sure, we all love a good bromance,” she said.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up.

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“It’s a lot like a bromance, yeah. Just without the B,” Bucky said. “We kind of figured my name had enough Bs to last us for a while.”

“Sam, are you saying--”

Sam sighed and brought his other hand up to the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately. And, yeah, he’s always like this. Some kinda puffed up bulldog or something.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened around Sam’s. “You’re my partner. I’m allowed to tell people that.”

“You don’t ever stop telling people.”

“Can’t blame him,” the host pointed out. Okay, maybe some of the hostility was misplaced, Bucky thought. Only some of it. “How did we not know about this, Cap?” she asked jovially, though Bucky thought she was still a little upset.

Sam shrugged. “Guess it’s not as exciting as superheroing. And cameras keep ending up destroyed,” he added pointedly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at the accusation. “Half the places we go could be classified as an active war zone. It’s not always on me that media cameras get crushed under debris or aliens or something.”

“Every single one that catches you touching my face?”

Bucky shrugged.

“So...how long has this been a thing?” the host asked.

“Since before Sam took the shield. It’s actually a package deal. If you want the shield, you have to have me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and let out another long suffering sigh. “I’m sorry he’s ruining this interview.”

“Oh, no, I’m about to win an investigative journalism prize, I think,” the host laughed.

“I don’t know how investigative it is when your subject is physically incapable of shutting up,” Sam said, looking over at Bucky with a glare and the smallest pout that made Bucky want to kiss it off of his face.

So he did, holding their interlaced fingers next to their face to hide from the cameras at least a little bit.

Hugging 34: Hugging while grabbing butt

Get Sprung

(Man, I meant to put this in the fr@ story and forgot :/ )

The building came down faster than Sam expected it to. He supposed well placed explosives would do that. What happened to uncertain, uneven dynamite? Why was everything electrical and precise nowadays?

He had no idea how Bucky managed to get Sam and the shield bundled in his arms before the ceiling came down. He didn’t know how Bucky had managed to kick a piece of wall upright and then locked his metal arm to hold the shield in place above them. He had no idea how Bucky knew it’d make the perfect alcove for them. For someone who pretended not to know what math was when AJ asked for help on homework, he was very calculation savvy.

Bucky slowly freed his arm from the straps of the shield. The rubble shifted a little, pressed a little closer, and then stilled again. They both let out a small breath. There wasn’t enough room to lay out totally, or to stand fully, but they weren’t being crushed. Bucky’s arm joined the other around Sam’s waist. Sam dropped his face to Bucky’s shoulder and let Bucky’s pulse drum against his cheek for a second.

“Are you grabbing my ass?” he finally asked and Bucky coughed out a startled laugh.

“Yeah, you better hope it’s me and not some darkness monster.”

“Couldn’t blame the monster if it was,” Sam said.

“I gotta make sure it’s still there. Would be a shame to lose America’s ass, y’know.”

Sam shook his head and pulled away from Bucky enough to light up his wristlets. He shook them off and rested them on pieces of concrete and rebar to light the space.

Bucky sank down to the ground, legs bent a little to accommodate the space and Sam followed him down, settling between his legs.

“So, now we wait, huh?” he said, reaching for Bucky’s hands to tangle their fingers together.

“Guess we gotta,” Bucky agreed. “Are you hurt?”

Sam shook his head. There was still a ringing in his ears from the explosion and he was sore from Bucky tackling him out of the way, but nothing felt crushed or cut or broken. “You?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said and then let out a breath at Sam’s arched brow. “I mean it. I’m not playing tough or anything. We got lucky. It came down on us, not sideways into us. I think there’s something lodged between the plates in my arm, but I don’t want you to do anything about it until we’re safe. It’s functional right now. I don’t need to be down an arm if we have to dig out.”

“We’re not gonna have to dig out,” Sam said. “Torres’ll track Redwing to us.”

“How’s your dumb robot?”

Sam reached for a wristlet and navigated to the Redwing menu. “Operational. Some exterior dinging, but nothing serious. He’ll be functional if we need.” Sam set the wristlet aside again and sighed. “Fuck, that was close, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. C’mere,” Bucky said, opening his arms. Sam shifted forward on his knees and leaned against Bucky’s chest, hugging him close. “‘M glad you’re okay,” Bucky murmured, lips brushing Sam’s temple.

Sam nodded and rubbed Bucky’s waist for a second. “Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re grabbing my ass again.”

“I know.”

“Alright.”

Touch 47: Touching their elbow to get their attention

Quiet Birds Circling in Flight

(Jeez, the only thing that came to mind for ages on this prompt involved a spaceship but these men have SEEN aliens and spaceships so that’s not as fun :(((((( )

Sam stood outside the cenotaph long after everyone else had left the service. And that was quite the feat in and of itself. It felt like the mourning could go on for years. There’d been enough tears around him that he wasn’t sure what his own would add to the spectacle.

To everyone else, the cenotaph was a mausoleum. But Sam had been next to Bucky when he told the military to quietly bury him in the cemetery where his parents were both buried. “You know,” Bucky had said one afternoon while they watched the cenotaph being built stone by stone, engraving by engraving, “I’d wager that most mausoleums are just cenotaphs. Grave robbing and reactions to grave robbing mean probably everyone just got moved somewhere safer.”

“Plus decomposition.”

“Well, shit, Wilson. When do you stop being you after death? When does dirt become dirt again? When isn’t it your resting place? Does it even matter where your body is when alls said and done? Is that ever actually you or just a space filler?”

Sam had elbowed Bucky’s ribs and they’d each taken a piece of stone and pretended they didn’t see.

Sam weighed the shield against his shin, knocking it slightly to the side, and then looked up at the stone one ten more feet above his head.

Steve would hate this so much. Sam felt like he could feel his raging blush from the after life. Sam and Bucky had both asked for something more muted, something quieter. Hell, something that would do good for the world Steve was always trying to save. All this money and work and art, for what? A place to take pictures for likes on the internet?

No, Sam had to remind himself, it was a place for memory too.

As much as Sam kind of hated the whole thing, he couldn’t deny that looking up at the effigy of his friend inspired him the same way glancing over at him had in life too. The words wrapping around and around the base of the cenotaph sparked the same intense pride and righteousness they had the first time he heard them.

Maybe he didn’t hate the cenotaph. Maybe he just wanted the real thing back.

He startled at a gentle touch at his elbow. He thought it might’ve been another mourner come to offer condolences, though those mostly went to Bucky when someone was brave enough to approach him. Most people hadn’t looked at Sam twice. Not when Captain America was, in theory, laying in rest thirty feet beyond.

Sam was not in the mood to listen to anyone else talk about the time Steve smiled at them in a cafe or grabbed their cat out of a tree. If he heard his name again, he was going to break down.

But he had the shield now. He had to do the things Steve did. Smile when he didn’t want to. Hide any sign of weakness, lest it reflect poorly on the red, white, and blue he carried now. So he ground his teeth together until his gums ached and turned with a screwed on smile.

But it wasn’t a mourner. Not a random one anyway.

Bucky still had his fingers on Sam’s elbow, a sad look on his face. Dawn was creeping over the horizon and Sam realized with a start and a bloom of despair in his stomach that he’d spent the entire night in the park.

“Think if we wait two more days he’ll shove that stupid stone shield out of the way and come out?” Sam asked, voice wavering like a flag in the wind.

“We would literally never hear the end of it if he did,” Bucky pointed out.

Neither of them smiled. Neither of them really meant their jokes.

Sam finally broke down.

He collapsed against Bucky’s chest. It wasn’t until he lost his breath in the middle of a sob that he realized he wasn’t the only one shaking. Bucky was crying too. They clutched at each other, both terrified they might drift away, that the other might decide this was too difficult too and go back to something better at the first opportunity.

Sam didn’t even blame Steve. He’d laid awake in the temporary accommodation the government had put him up in and tried to convince himself that if he was in Steve’s shoes, he wouldn’t have saved Riley and stayed in that timeline. But he couldn’t. He knew he would have, almost certainly. And it wasn’t fair to ask Steve to give up a happy, quiet ending after more than a century of fighting and hurting.

But understanding it and accepting it didn’t make it hurt any less. “What are we supposed to do, Bucky?” he asked with an irritatingly genuine hiccup at the end of his words.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, sounding for all the world like he was grinding his teeth together, trying to pull himself back together. “You have a lot more options than me.”

And it was true. Sam had had a job. The Air Force had reached out since he’d been back stateside. He had a family who missed him, who he missed. But it felt like something heavy and tethering had been locked away in that empty cenotaph. He didn’t want to walk away yet.

Bucky stepped back, kept a hand on Sam’s elbow. “For now, we should get back home. You need to sleep.”

Sam didn’t want to sleep. Everything hurt too much.

“Sam, come on,” Bucky insisted. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now.We could both use a few hours of being quiet, right?

Sam reached up to wipe the tears from his face. He had the shield. He had to act like it. “My place or yours?” he asked, still watery.

Bucky pretended like he didn’t notice. “Yours is nicer than mine.”

“And I have a bed.”

“I have a bed.”

“It’s unassembled in a box.”

Bucky squeezed his elbow and then tugged him into a brief hug that Sam was pretty sure they’d never speak of again. “Let’s get out of here. He’s not goin’ nowhere.”

Sam rubbed at his face again and nodded. “We-- We should order in. When’s the last time you ate?” he asked as they walked away.

“I had a better breakfast than you.”

“You didn’t have to give a speech.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t throw up in front of everyone.”

“Shut up, I’m a great public speaker.”

“Sure, Wilson.”

“Screw you, Barnes.”

The dawn bloomed before them.

Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep—

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand

By my grave, and cry—

I am not there,

I did not die.

[brucewayneargento-moved]

To All My Fathers (Chapter 1)

Summary: Damian Wayne, a fourteen year old with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, goes onto a road trip with the four men who shaped him as a person before his bone marrow transplant.

Fic also avaliable on FF.net

Damian had definitely decided he would not wear a fanny pack.

It didn't matter that it was the most convenient and comfortable way to take a chemo pump iv from place to place. He'll much rather attract attention with a backpack connected to a pump than to regress back to the eighties in the most horrendous fashion. Sure he might pick up unwanted attention from strangers but A) He could always stare at them back; B) He was past the time to care and C) He already didn't have eyebrows so that was kind of a moot point.

The boy was currently seated at the med bed of the 666 room. (Drake had made several jokes about it, which Damian didn't mind and in fact encouraged, because with his diagnosis came a morbid sense of humor and he was also glad at least one person still treated him like a human being). He was practicing violin while he could still hold it and also enjoying the fact that he was wearing actual comfortable clothes and not a paper robe that made his autism completely and utterly fucking lose it.

Some kids from the other rooms had come to see him perform and Damian loved to have an audience. Because he had an ego, not as much and not as evil as people usually thought, but still. Most of them were children younger than ten who just needed some entertainment that wasn't a superhero.

"This was Ode To Joy by Bethoveen," Damian explained. The three children around him applauded. When they stopped he could still hear hands clapping, he looked up and his eyes met his father's.

Bruce came closer to him and the kids left after being called by a nurse. Boy and man looked at each other for a few seconds.

"Are you ready?" Bruce finally asked

Damian might have sounded insane if he said it outloud, but his father and Jon were very similar.

The blue eyes, the black hair and the fact that they both cried before or after entering a room with Damian in it, bonus points if he was being stabbed with a needle right at that moment, then you could see their eyes getting crystalized almost in slow motion.

And it's not like Damian was annoyed by their emotions as one might have thought, it was more of a...sting, (man being stabbed with a needle on a daily basis was really taking a toll on him, wasn't it?) like, something that hurt but it wasn't enough for him to do anything about it more than to grit his teeth and power through it.

Numbness was apparently a common thing among patients. But Damian thought of himself as many stuff, but common wasn't one of them

And perhaps his ego was the only thing keeping him optimistic, perhaps thinking that he was too special to die alone in a hospital room was what made him stronger against the whole GvHD thing.

Leslie had told him that he was lucky to find a donor that was relatively near, in Kansas nonetheless, home of Superman and. So now he had just to keep up with the program: L-asparaginase,dexamethasone and vincristine several times a day and wait.

Or at least that was the original plan.

"Yes." he finally answered, standing up.

When all you receive in your life is gaslighting, you don't even notice the medical gaslighting.

Maybe it was the whole "being indoctrinated since birth by an ecoterrorist death cult" thing but his ability to exercise his free will hadn't been particularly developed.

The bruises? Vigilante stuff. The fever? Probably the flu. Weight loss? Maybe he had gotten a growth spurt that just made him seem thinner…He had to throw up blood to even be admitted into a hospital.

The Wayne-Head name allowed him the finest care probably ever known to man. "Nepotism: where you can die comfortably" that was an actual thing he had said while high on sedatives. He could only imagine his mother's face upon hearing it.

When he woke up both his parents were there. Damian could immediately tell something was wrong. His father was crying and his mother was stoic.

"Oh, ok, so I'm dying" He said, grabbing their attention. Both Talia and Bruce turn to look at him. Damian tried to sit and noticed his arm was cranked to an IV. "Oh, I'm actually dying."

"Do not speak like that." His mother warned him with a threatening voice. Bruce kept quiet but still with a face wet with tears.

Next to them there was a third person. She was an older woman with gray hair and glasses. Doctor Thompkins, his father's godmother. She went over to the medbed and sat on the foot. Damian crossed his arms. She was a smart woman but had the annoying habit of treating him like a perpetual child. Probably the closest thing he had to an actual grandmother.

"Damian," she fixed her glasses and looked at the clipboard she was holding. "Your blood count is in the 200.000 white cells."

Damian's eyes slightly widened, which covertly hid how much of a gut punch he just received.

"I can't have leukemia," he simply stated. There was a slight pained sound coming from his father's mouth which made Damian look him in the eye…that's how he knew it was true.

He started to grin which turned into a giggle which turned into a laugh.

Bruce and Talia looked at him with worry.

"Denial is very common," Leslie stated, trying to remain calm and also sooth Damian up. The teen kept laughing and then stopped to talk.

He had tears in his eyes. "I mean... so much for being an eugenics frankenstein monster, I've failed at even that."

The rest of that afternoon was a blur for him. Except for the being stabbed with needles on his spine parts, that one he remembered very well. Since he had such a high tolerance for pain, the fact that he was casually hurt was news to him.

Of course Dick had been the first one to enter the room.

Damian had hoped that he wasn't but after all it made sense that he did, he was his Robin. He could imagine him punching a wall and screaming when he heard the news. That mental image didn't upset him at all, clearly.

Damian was pretending to watch TV where his oldest brother entered the scene. He had prepared what he was going to say. How he was okay and how he was too stubborn to die anyways. But all of that went to hell when Dick entered the room and immediately ran up to hug him.

All of the walls he had been building up until now feel down hard. Damian just had to press his head against Dick's shoulder for the tears to start running.

"I want a falafel."

They were in the hospital room after a particularly hard session of chemo. His brother was on a chair in front of him reading a book and not looking at him.

"You just threw up on my shoe," he reminded Damian.

"I'm here for a good time, not a long time"

Dick rolled his eyes, now accustomed to the fact that his sibling had developed a morbid sense of humor because of his condition. Right at that moment the door opened and Doctor Thompkins entered the room.

"How are we?" She asked.

"Great." Both responded almost robotically. Damian gagged.

"I wanted to talk to you, Dick, about the bone marrow transplant."

"Why not talk to me?" Damian intervened. "I'm the one whose blood isn't working."

"Because you're still a child," Dick answered as a matter of fact. And despite everything he was glad his older brother at least now had the courtesy of treating him like he had always done. "What's the prognosis, doc?"

"We're considering the umbilical cord transfusion." Leslie explained. "But you will have to ask my godson first.

"Why would he need to...wait...Selina's pregnant?!" Damian asked but then he threw up again. "That wasn't meant to signify my feelings on the matter."

Leslie continued. "But that will still take a few months and...I'm afraid we don't have that much time."

Damian pretended to gag and looked down at the bucket, all to avoid looking at Dick's face.

"But the good news is that we found a match."

Damian hadn't even had time to think about that sentence before he blurted it out, but now it was there, out in the open. For everyone to hear.

"I want to have children."

Everyone being an hyperbole since Alfred was the one who was actually there. His father had to go to patrol so the butler had the night shift to take care of Damian while at the hospital to which the boy was appreciative of. Except for this moment when he was mentally slapping himself for letting on too much. Side effects of being raised to be a killing machine.

"I...did not know that." Alfred admitted. Up to twelve seconds ago he had been standing up listing the symptoms of chemo at Damian's request since he didn't trust Leslie to do it without sugarcoating it and his father might burst into tears in an attempt to do so. Damian had been listening attentively before Alfred mentioned that it was possible that he might wind up being infertile.

The boy simply turned around to the other side of the bed and sighed as tears left his eyes.

Dear Damian

I could not be more content that you are receiving the transplant that you so much need. I wish I could accompany you on the journey to Kansas, but sadly Lady Talia needs me to look out after Bialya...I wish you nothing but a rapid recovery. I implore you to remember that you are not alone in this, to remember that there is a plethora of people that adore you with all of their souls and that you will always have their help. Even when you do not want it.

Best Wishes

Ravi.

Damian looked at Alfred who glanced at him for a nanosecond in the mirror of the car. He knew he was the most active ally he had in this game. Since he not only advocated to his father for this trip to be possible but he also was the only person to always show his compassion in spite of if he actually deserved it or not. Bruce was next to him while Richard sat next to Damian and assesed his condition.

They stayed in comfortable silence in the car with only the sound of "dad music" on the radio for background noise. Damian allowed himself to close his eyes and to feel the soothing bounce of the car against the pavement on his skin...

They stopped suddenly after a while and Damian opened his eyes, he frowned in confusion as Alfred parked the car in front of the airport.

"What are we doing here?" he asked curiously.

Alfred turned around to look at him. "Your father , Master Richard and I thought It'll be a good idea to fly in a friend of yours."

Damian's frown deepened. "A friend?"

Suddenly a tap was heard on the window. They both turned around to look at the front window. It was being slightly knocked on it by a man with a white cane and a bald head who was smiling at them.

"Ravi?" Damian rubbed his eyes and felt them watering up.

Damian knew that he could never make up to Ravi for being responsible for losing his vision. And he also knew that in spite of that the man would still love him unconditionally.

That could be proven easily by the letters that he had written to him when he found out about his diagnosis…

All his father figures were here, suddenly he felt an internal strength he hadn't felt in a while.

[dershloop]

i wrote this while sick nd did edit it while slightly less sick so excuse and weird discrepancies LMAO

Title: Get Well Soon, Gumball

Words: 1698

Warnings: a bit of swearing, some self-esteem/body issues mentioned

Relationships: Glacier, background Plasma

“Are you sure you should be training today Cole? You don’t look so good,” Jay said hesitantly, looking over at his friend concerned for his health.

“Yeah dude, you look rough. I’m surprised Zane even let you get out of bed,” Kai chimed in, narrowly avoiding a hard blow to the head from the automated training dummy.

“Don’t say my name too loud guys, he didn’t,” Cole croaked, “I just can’t afford to take a day off.”

“What?” Kai exclaimed, purposefully being as loud as he could to try to draw Zane’s attention from inside the monastery. This time, however, he wasn’t as lucky in regards to dodging the dummy while also attempting to look after his best friend, letting it land a well-placed blow to his ribs. “Fucking hell, ow,” He groaned from his new position on the dusty ground, splaying out his arms in legs, letting out loud, long, laboured breaths as he attempted to lessen the pain.

“Oh my God, firefly are you ok?” Jay said, abandoning his kendo helmet and Shinai on the ground as he rushed over to his boyfriend to help him up. Cole walked over too, though with a lot less urgency, not even taking off his helmet or dropping his own Shinai.

“Ok you definitely need to get back in bed,” Kai said through laboured breaths to Cole, taking Jay’s hand and hoisting himself up with a wince as his side stabbed with pain “You didn’t even drop your Shinai. I’ve known you for years and even if you’re feeling rough you’re always one of the first to help us if one of us falls. You’re not well.”

“I heard shouting, is everything ok?” Zane called, walking out into the yard to the sight of Jay fussing over Kai and Cole stood, fully geared out and standing shakily, looking as if he wasn’t 100% sure where he was.

“You’re boyfriends being a little shit,” Jay said, looking over at Zane as he practically dragged Kai away from the yard and towards Nya and Pixal’s workshop to get some kind of medical help for his extremely bruised and possibly broken ribs.

“Yeah Z, he is not ok. You need to sort him out and get him in bed,” Kai wheezed, hobbling slightly.

“Kai shut up before you do yourself anymore damage. This dumbass probably just broke a few ribs and he still has the nerve to lecture Cole about being out of bed. I hope he feels better soon, I’ll come and see him after I’ve dumped him on Nya and Pix,” Jay said, beginning to attempt to drag Kai away.

“You know you love me really,” Kai coyly remarked, stilling wheezing slightly. Jay didn’t respond, but Zane could tell he rolled his eyes.

Zane panned his eyes over to his own sick boyfriend, who was still standing, fully kitted out in his Kendo training gear. Even his shinai was hanging loosely from his large hands. He looked genuinely awful, worse than he had that morning in fact.

“Before you say anything, I feel fine,” Cole croaked, letting out a long sniff afterwards.

“Cole Hence Brookstone I told you to stay in bed,” Zane said sternly, looking over at the quivering mess of a boyfriend who was currently stood in front of him.

“I know but-”

“No buts, you’re coming with me right now.”

Cole knew better than to continue to protest; in situations like this, Zane usually got his way. Whether or not it was rightly so was down to interpretation. He shuffled through the blurred hallways, not 100% sure where he was going. He knew a bed of some kind would be involved but the question of whose bed was a largely unanswered one considering his brain was 300% more concentrated on keeping him upright and at least semi-conscious. The room he was led into was dark; too dark to be Zane’s and it wouldn’t be Kai, Jay, Lloyd or Nya’s because that’d be weird. Even he was conscious enough to know it was his room.

“Here, I’ll sort out your gear and stuff just try to relax,” Zane spoke softly, taking the kendo helmet off and placing it to the side, doing the same with the rest of his gear and gi. He then began sifting through Cole’s wardrobe, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants to change into. Only then did he let him back into bed. Cole frowned and looked up at Zane from his place in bed.

“Get in with me. I need my teddy bear,” Cole groaned, his voice gravelly and even deeper than usual. Zane smiled.

“Ok, just give me a second to change. I doubt I’ll be leaving here for a while so there’s no point in being in my gi,” He said, walking over to Cole’s wardrobe again and pulling out a t-shirt and shorts, quickly changing and climbing into bed with him, any thought of training for at least that day discarded. Cole quickly readjusted himself, scooching over onto Zane, wrapping his arms and legs around him, resting his head on his chest for warmth.

“Why’d you get out of bed? I told you I’d be back with tea soon.” Zane said softly, running Cole’s hair through his fingers, twirling strands around and watching as the light reflected off it, showing at least another 10 hues shining through. The deep blues, browns and midnight blacks mingled and danced with the golden light streaming in through the curtains. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Even if he didn’t always think so. Zane would always be there to remind him that he was.

“I can’t afford a day off,” Cole said hoarsely, “I’m already not as thin as you guys, the more days I take off the worse it’ll get.” Zane furrowed his brow and thought for a moment, trying to fully process what Cole had just said.

“Are you… saying what I think you’re saying? Because if you are, I’m going to have to take evasive measures,” Zane said matter of factly. If Cole really did think him being bigger was a bad thing, there would have to be action taken.

“What? You know it’s true. If I stop working out I’ll just get fatter, I can’t take a day off,” He croaked sadly, biting his lip. His head was spinning but he couldn’t just lay in bed all day; he had to do something. He had to at least get a few reps in.

“Hmmm,” Zane hummed, “It’s worse than I thought. Cole, it seems you are suffering from a serious case of negative body image. There’s only one known cure,” Cole laughed a little and played along.

“What is it, doc?”

“500 kisses and a whole day in bed of cuddles,” Zane replied stoically.

“Oh well then, someone who spent 2 hours downloading every episode of greys anatomy must know what they’re talking about,” Cole replied sarcastically, a goofy smile playing on his lips.

“Exactly, and I know you’re being sarcastic so I see I’m going to have to crank it up to 700 kisses.”

“Oh no! How terrible!” Cole gasped, still being sarcastic, however, it backfired as he began to cough aggressively.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole, I’m also cranking your prescription up to 1000 kisses but seeing as this might go on for a while, I’m capping it at that,” Zane said with a chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down Cole’s back slowly, just waiting for Cole to say the word so he could administer the treatment.

“You know me too well,” Cole laughed weakly, propping himself up on his chin which admittedly was uncomfortable but he was willing to endure so he could look at Zane’s beautiful face, “So doc, when’s the treatment starting?”

“How… about… now!” Zane exclaimed, beginning to pepper kisses all over Cole’s head and face, making Cole laugh hoarsely.

Zane pushed Cole off of him, pinning his arms down and kissing all up his arms and onto his hands and fingers, before moving to his torso and making sure every square inch was covered in his love. Eventually, he made his way back up to Cole’s face, making sure every little bit of his neck was covered as well, in some places even leaving small red marks behind. Whether or not they were unintentional, Zane would never tell. The final kiss was placed on Cole’s lips, making sure to press extra hard to accentuate his point.

“Wow, Z, you’re meticulous I’ll give you that,” Cole said through laughs shaking his head at the nindroid currently sat on his lap. His hands sat on his waist comfortably, a true testament to how much they really were meant to be. It was almost as if the sweet tin can sat on top of him was made for him.

“Why thank you. Are you cured?”

“If I say no, do I get more kisses?” Cole said coyly with a smirk, massaging circles into Zane’s waist with his thumbs.

“Depends. If you’re good and get in bed properly and don’t leave until your better, then most assuredly,” Zane said matter of factly, his own hands idly drifting over Cole’s torso. If he could see inside his mind for just a moment, Zane was sure he’d see himself the way he saw him. He was the perfect size for hugs and cuddles, and his larger stature just meant all the more Cole to hold and love. It also meant he could pick him up which, in their 2 years of dating, Zane was sure he’d never find it the most amazing and adorable thing ever.

“Oh well then, it’s settled,” Cole said quickly, moving Zane off of him and getting under the covers, quickly snuggling back into his chest. He could hear all the mechanical parts inside him buzzing and whirring, turning and pumping, keeping Zane alive. There was something comforting about the soft noises that emitted from his boyfriend that just radiated comfort. The mechanical buzz was a grounding constant. Always there, always around, always keeping him sane.

Zane smiled and wrapped his arm around Cole, holding him close.

“Get well soon, gumball.”

[lackingspace]

Incensed (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Rated: Explicit 

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Bo is having a shit morning and you’re not making it any better. When some tourist wander in his irritation spikes exponentially. Why the fuck would you think flirting with one of them would be ok? 

Warnings: Bo being an irate ass, Possible offensive language, Punishment, Degradation, Spanking, Dirty talk

A/N: Ok, not my typical content, but its House of Wax day and I’m thirst af  I love those boys, so I wanted to celebrate. Angry Bo just came out, so that’s what y’all get (╯°□°）╯ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 Link: Incensed

You were goddamn doing it again. Bo was so fucking fed up. It’d been a shitty morning of waking up to a blaring hangover. Breakfast had Lester and you chattering like incessant little birds while Vincent's mute ass self was somehow still being too damn loud. 

He’d snapped when you laughed in the high twinkling pitch that usually hit him somewhere uncomfortable in his chest but now split his brain in two. “Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up!” Everyone stopped to stare over at him, even Vincent mid-bite, turned to stare him down. 

You had a disgusted and offended look on your face that almost made him want to feel bad, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t when his head was splitting and only getting worse. You spat at him in annoyance, “What the hell, Bo?” 

He grabbed his coffee cup and grunted, “Can a man drink his fucking coffee in peace? Y’all are being so fucking loud with your bullshit.” You crossed your arms and leaned forward against the table, “No, not when a ‘man’ is gonna be a dick before 9 am.” You’d said, ‘man’, so venomously he felt a tiny spark of pride because that surely was something you’d picked up from him. Regardless, he ignored it because his temper took precedence. White-knuckling his cup he took a sip before hissing at you, “The fuck did you say?” 

Vincent and Lester were both looking at you now. Vinny's gaze concerned, worried, while Lester put a hand on your shoulder saying your name. You looked away from the ass at the counter and back to your friend, “Just don’t, s’not worth it.” You looked at Vincent and he shook his head, so after pursing your lips you sighed out, “Nothing.” 

Bo took another sip as his anger simmered down, “S’what I fuckin thought.” He saw your jaw clench. And that felt fucking good. So when you’d followed him out to his truck after breakfast he was surprised. You walked to his passenger side and let yourself in before he could say anything. Getting in himself he turned to you, “Can I fuckin help you, princess?”

The look you gave him was like a mocking taunt, “Nah, but I could probably help you.” Bo wasn’t in the mood to play games, so he just cranked the engine and shifted gears with an eye roll, “Suit your fuckin self.”

You’d been so fucking annoying too. Following him around, commenting just enough to get under his skin, but not enough to make him want to glue your mouth shut. But God, was he contemplating it...be a waste of your pretty lips though. You’d started questioning him on mechanic things and fuck was it annoying, but they seemed like genuine questions and damn if it didn’t feel nice to have someone admire his skill for once. 

But when some jock ass pricks rolled up asking for some car help, well, the side-eye you’d given him, screamed trouble. The little asshats had thought you were the receptionist, that made Bo laugh as he thought to himself, ‘receptionist my ass’. But you’d been nice and accommodating to the boys. Leaning on the counter showing them some ample cleavage that made Bo ready to say fuck his brother's art and gouge out their eyes himself for looking. 

But you kept it up and he was about ready to strangle someone when you decided it was a good idea to start flirting with one of the fucks. He fucking hated when you got in a mood- you were stubborn as all get out and it never worked out in Bo’s favor when you got like this. He knew he’d been an ass earlier, but any small amount of guilt he’d had quickly evaporated. Not when he could tell you actually fucking thought one of em was cute. It wasn’t just a fake blush you were giving the twink.

Bo groaned in disgust when you laughed at something stupid that’d been said. He caught your gaze and gave you a glowering look that said ‘fuckin cut it out he wasn't in the mood.’ but the smug little smirk you returned said something different. 

His mood darkened quickly when the asshole actually put a hand on you. Fucking touching you wasn’t gonna fly. Not with the morning he’d had. The little prick was on the top of Bo's shit list in an instant with your name right under it. If the little twit moved his hand any lower on your back Bo would have reached over and broke it. Instead, he didn’t and just left it so you’d realize how absolutely fucked you were. 

Wiggling out from under the tourist's arm you giggled an excuse and walked back over to where Bo was. Inside you were sweating because he hadn’t stepped in like you’d thought and that spoke to how pissed he was. How fucked you were. It wasn't like you didn’t know he was mad. And, sure, you’d known what you were doing. Stopping way earlier was probably smarter, but you never claimed to be a genius, so when flirting presented itself, well, it had seemed perfect. 

You’d been annoyed at him this morning, and maybe had wanted some payback. Wanted to annoy him because he’d been such an ass not only this morning but all damn week. It wasn’t fair for Lester and Vinny to constantly have to walk on eggshells when Bo was just fucking ornery.

And ok, you'd admit that you’d pushed a little too far here though. Especially with how possessive Bo was. He’d even get pissed when you tried to drink some of his coffee. So some random guy, not his brother, putting their arm around you was like a death wish. And God, was he standing beside you deathly silent-- it had you fucking sweating for real. It wasn’t the guy you were worried about, he was dead either way, but you'd maybe just fucked yourself royally. Bo's punishments were unpredictable- very good or very bad. You’d consider yourself lucky if he just ignored you or bitched for a few weeks until you were finally privileged enough for a spanking. God, there was something sick in you though because you still wanted it even if he edged you for a month before forgiving you. 

He gave some excuse to the group through clenched teeth that he'd be able to work on their vehicle, but needed to take care of something downstairs first, and that they should go out and find something to do. They'd accepted his answer and left the shop none the wiser. 

You'd never felt his hand grip the back of your neck faster in your life. In a deep growl, “You little bitch.” He tightened his grip, “ You’re fucking coming with me and don't even think about making a fucking peep. If you wanna be a slut I'll show you what sluts get." he kept to a slow walk until the both of you were out of view, then he all but pushed you down the stairs leading to his playroom. 

He didn't even bother opening the door, just pushed you against the wall next to it-- your cheek smashed against it he invaded your space, "Think you're real slick trying to play with that little bitch in front of me?" you whined out an "I'm sorr-" but he cut you off, "What’d I fucking say?” 

You cut your whine instantly, “And see, you're not sorry. You'da stopped when I fucking told you to if you were." He leaned in closer and you could hear the growl- the anger in his voice directly in your ear, "You were too busy bein a filthy fucking attention whore. Good thing you didn’t let him grab that ass otherwise I don't give a fuck how sweet that pussy is, you'd be out too. Vincent can have a hissy fit later." 

Shit, you knew he was pissed, but damn this was pissed. You tried to actually apologize, "Bo, I'm s-" But his hand came up to lift your face off the wall to grip your cheeks tightly, "Nuh-uh, Don't you fucking Bo me. You're gonna shut the fuck up while I give you something to be sorry for." He pushed against your ass as he leaned over to open the door and God, he was half hard already.

Dragging your through, he made it to the edge of the bed “You're gonna sit that little ass over my lap and I'm gonna make it so Vinny’s gonna have to fucking ice it for a week." You groaned because fuck, you knew this was supposed to be a punishment and it was definitely going to hurt, but damned if you didn't need it. Him being actually pissed was hot as hell and even if you couldn’t sit for a week you really couldn’t find it in you to be mad about that. The man didn't know the power he had over you when he was pushing you around like this.  

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you roughly over his lap. His hand on the back of your neck slid up to grip a tight fist of your hair pushing your face into the mattress. His other ripped off your skirt and panties all in one go, "You’re gonna fuckin count them you cunt and thank me for each one." You tried to nod but the fist didn't allow any movement so you let out a muffled, "Ok, yes sir." His fist tightened in preparation as your breath hitched and delivered the first rough smack to your bare ass. Your muscles tightened at the sting, "One, Thank you, sir!" he grunted and gave another just as rough-- you winced and jolted up, "Two! Thank you, sir!" 

On it went until you were sobbing in his lap from the pain and how much your clit ached. “Twenty! Thank you, sir!” He hadn't gone easy, wasn’t about that. Not even a little. Taking all his aggression out on your ass and you really couldn't say you were mad about it. Sure it hurt and would probably leave some bruising, but damn it really was a good hurt. 

Even when he soothingly ran a hand over the area your ass stung, "Don't give me that crying, I can tell from your sloppy pussy how much you liked this." he slid a finger through your drenched folds, "It's like Niagara falls down here. You're a little slut for this, aren't ya?" You shook your head in denial, not wanting to give him that if he was gonna be an ass about it. He slid a finger back through your folds and your hips lifted off he lap in want, "Look at that. Can't even fucking help yourself."

A swift smack shocked your system back into pain, "Don't fuckin try to take what I'm not giving, whore." You rubbed your face into the mattress trying to get yourself under control as you squeezed your thighs together. With a deep breath, “I'm sorry, sir” He laughed, "You’re really fuckin not. But I'll let it slide because I'm feelin generous.” He slid a finger into your pussy and you instantly clenched around it, but tried to stay as still as possible, “This just want you wanted, huh? My fingers in this whore cunt of yours? Think I deserve a fuckin apology after all your shit today.” 

You could tell he was calmer now, but that meant dangerous. Too bad dangerous also meant sexy. And you’d give this asshole whatever he wanted as long as he’d keep sliding his fingers in and out of you, “I'm waiting, Princess.” and he slipped a second finger in scissoring them, you groaned, "I'm sorry! Ok, Bo?! I'm so fucking sorry! I shouldn't have! I knew what I was doing and that you weren't in a good mood, but I did it anyways. God, I'm sorry Daddy, please don't be mad!" you were shaking in his lap and fuck, wait...oh fuck you'd never let that slip before. Shit, you felt yourself tense up just as his cock twitched under you. Fist still in your hair pulled your face up, "What was that?!" You stayed silent and he gave a hard jerk, winching in pain, "I'm sorry....Daddy" he groaned, "Too fucking right, baby girl."

He’d started his fingers back up, roughly pushing them in and out of you, “Bein a bad girl pushing Daddy’s buttons like that. But you did so good taking that spanking.” with a twist of his hand you felt him brush up against that spongy area inside that had your hips jerk up into his hand and sobbing out a moan, “Daddy’s gonna be real sweet to you and fuck this cunt open.” you moaned again at the idea. He was so hard against you and damn did you want it inside you more than anything. You didn’t have to wait long because after another twist of his wrist he pulled his fingers out, swiped them through your folds, and gave a circle to your clit before pulling away completely. You whined, but felt him move the two of you, “Keep that fucking face in the mattress and ass up.”

Pulling your legs underneath to prop yourself up in the position he wanted, “That's right, baby. Now spread yourself open for me. Show me that pussy.” Your face burned, god he could be so nasty, but you loved it and did as he asked. Reaching both hands back to spread yourself open for him. 

You heard him shuffling before you felt a hand settle on your lower back. “Look at that red ass and wet little hole.” He smoothed a hand down a cheek before he gave it a much lighter smack. You groaned and felt yourself pulse around nothing, “Look at that slutty pussy clench.” He ran a finger from the start of your ass down through your folds, coming to a stop at your clit and gave a few circles to it. 

“Don't worry, sunshine, Daddy’s got somethin to fill it up with.” His hand moved away and then you felt the length of him slide up through your folds. You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips as he smacked it against your pussy a few times, “Feel that? I’m gonna stretch you open real good, darlin’.” Sliding his cock back down to press the tip against your clit he brushed it back up to rest at your opening, “You gonna be a good girl and take it like a whore for me?” 

Drool had steadily been falling from your lips but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Your hair was a mess and face felt on fire, but the only thing your existence came down to at that moment was the way his cock was just breaching into you- just teasingly stretching you. Slowly his words filtered through your brain to which you rapidly nodded and whined out a “Please!” 

He slid in slowly before the last syllable left your mouth. 

[barcaavengers]

Complete Safe Haven||Newt Imagine

Note: I'm not that proud of this since I edited it about 6 times. I feel like it lacks something I can't really tell what it is, but here it is! Will definitely write a part two so we will see how everyone responds to it. I was listening to "That Would Be Enough" from Hamilton cause I think it tells a bit how Newt could be somewhat hesitant of the idea of having a baby after everything he has gone through and how unsure he can be of himself, you know? I don't know, that song inspired me a bit. Also, struggled a lot to think how the Safe Haven would be like after two years of them moving there so yep. Feedback and ideas are encouraged! <3

Tag: Tagging those who liked my posts that I was writing it since I said a few weeks ago it was going to be up and totally didn’t. @late-to-the-fandom-party @loverofmazeandthrones @gaymistakeboi @enixgucci @the-panwitch @expectroyalpurple @thepotatoes-havefallen @queenkitten695 @lovefelps @kurtzyoufunkylittledruggyprimary​ @smallsleepywriter​ @haiykuuia​ @sskeletonsoffun @thiccheerioss​ @demiwitchavenger7​ @infinite-piper​ @sungjungelf​ @hanniejji​ @solovehasblindedyou​ @sleepysnapesnake​ @little-odd-dude​ @washing-machine-headcannons​

The soft waves going against your body so early in the morning was your favorite feeling ever since you have gotten to the Safe Haven. The waves would just make you forget what had happened, cleared your head from any memory that was too painful, and those were mostly of that night. You still had nightmares, watching him turn into a Crank, his attacks, him hurting you unconsciously...You were lucky that things ended the way they did, but even then, you knew that those memories would always get to you. Arms rest on your shoulders making you jump, but relax under the knowing touch, rubbing your shoulder blades soothingly and you smile. "Hey."

"Morning, love" Newt's voice was still groggy, you guessed it hasn't been long since he woke up. "Why aren't you in bed?" He presses a kiss on your shoulder before his hands land on your waist, the soft waves rocking you both slightly.

"You kicked me out" you say playfully as you turn to him. 

"What a terrible boyfriend I am," he says with a chuckle. "When was the last time you slept properly?" 

It has been about two years since you have moved to the Safe Haven. The island was now covered in construction, buildings, and houses. Yesterday it was your four year anniversary, and Newt had planned a beautiful evening in what you were proud to call your new house, "First night home" he called it. After living in a small hut that reminded you of the Glade, now you had a bigger house, all for the two of you. You have been looking into The Last City, or what used to be, after Jorge took you and others back a few months ago, and you had the chance to gather a few technology items in a somewhat black market set in the city. The immunes that survived had built a city within the city, but no sign of what Wicked once was. You had seen people losing themselves to the Flare, so you started to play around with the idea of a cure again, using Thomas' blood and trying to figure out what made his blood different, without human trials and finding a way to help without draining him from his blood. You managed to do it with Newt. Vitals were missed when he attacked Thomas' back at the Last City and the serum was administered when he woke up on your way to this place. You took the serum and mixed it with some of Thomas' blood and applied a second dose, that one seemed to have done it. Unfortunately there wasn't enough serum for everyone back there and you had to find a way. 

"I can't say" you admit with a smirk. "I need to keep working…" you say as he removes a strand of hair from your face. 

"You look pale every morning, love" he points out.

"Maybe the late nights I'm working" but you knew better than that. Newt hasn't noticed, but you have been having morning sickness more often and feeling dizzy. 

"Take a break" he kisses your forehead. "We have our new home, we have to enjoy it" he says and you smile. You had a slight idea of what could be going, but instead of raising hopes, you rather wait to get things confirmed. 

Vince had brought a doctor who was the one to help you around the idea of a cure, as well as helped you learn a few things about medicine. She agreed to run a few tests while Newt was out with Thomas, Gally and Minho as they went to check an area for tonight to set a bonfire like back at the Glade, just a close group of friends, you have refused when they asked you to go and went to get the results at the medical hut instead. 

"Hey" you greet the doctor after walking into the tent. 

"Y/N," she greets as she turns around. "Couldn't wait I see?" She teases. 

"I have barely slept" you admit with a nervous smirk. "Between this and thinking of ways to make the cure…"

"You shouldn't lose sleep over this" Elena, the doctor, says as she lifts a piece of paper causing your heartbeat to increase. 

"Oh God…" you mutter. 

"You ready?" She asks as she walks towards you and you nod. "You might not know much about medicine and all this, but you were right" she hands you the piece of paper, your eyes widening. "Congratulations."

For a moment every sound goes silent, it felt like everything around you stopped and so many feelings rushed in. How were you supposed to feel? How would Newt react? "I-"

Elena reaches you and places a hand on your shoulder, "Everything alright?"

"I don't know…" you say. "I never really thought about it...I mean, I did but now that it happened…"

"You are scared" she says and you nod your head slowly. "Don't be" she assures you. "If what you are scared of is Newt's reaction, I think he will be shocked at first, but he will grow to the idea of it. He loves you."

"I can't even think of a way to tell him…" you admit. "What about this place? I don't think it's completely baby proof."

"No place is baby proof. Certainly not during these times" she points out. "Doesn't mean everyone will stop having babies. You will have everyone's support I'm that sure. We will look into ways to get what you need as everything goes" somehow her words made your whole body relax. 

You were away from Wicked, away from the Flare it seemed, but you never trusted that. The Flare could travel through air according to Ava, and Wicked could easily find you if they get as determined as they were, if there was anyone left that would go with such crazy trials. It didn't appear so, the times you have been into the Standing City you have not heard a word from Wicked or possible takers in the tasks. Everyone who survived the attack was just trying to get their lives before the Flare decided their faith, and any immune would just mind their business. Would there be anyone crazy enough to bring back what Wicked once was? Or something worse? Your mind was spinning around the idea. You didn't want your kid to be taken away and used for crazy experiments and trials, you knew that much. Not that you wouldn't do anything in your power to keep them safe from anything that happened. 

You have gone back to your new house and went to lay back on the hammock to try to keep all your feelings in check and find a way to tell Newt the news. Will he be happy? Will he have the same thoughts of bringing a baby to the Safe Haven was a bad timing right now? It wasn't planned, but it wasn't not planned either. It was going to happen eventually. You two were careful, but after some time you two stopped, knowing the consequences but did it anyway. Was it maybe that you both have wanted this but never talked about it with the other? You knew you wanted a life with Newt, wanted everything with him, but what about him? Kids were not something you two have talked about before, because you two were now growing into the relationship and taking bigger steps, like the new house he had built up along with the guys for the two of you. 

"Hey, love" Newt calls as he walks in and you turn around from your hammock.

"Hey" he leans in and you peck his lips once you sit up. "How was it?"

"Well, it's not the Glade," Newt says as he stares off blankly. "but it's big enough for a group of us. I don't think many people would get going in the middle of nowhere and set a bonfire and get drunk...or fight Gally" he chuckles and you join him. 

"The latter is the one people won't get" you say and lean against him, your heart beating wildly as you thought of telling him. 

"Probably" he says and wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. "I mean, getting wasted is kind of a thing to go for that one. I don't think that anyone right upstairs would fight Gally, except you when you kicked his ass" he adds. "I'm betting on you to do it again in front of everyone," he smirks. 

"That was a good day" you agree and smirk. "Don't think I'll have the same luck now" he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. 

"Let's go get ready for tonight" he says and kisses your forehead before pulling you by your hand. 

When you arrive at the bonfire, you see that even if not many have come, it was enough to make you remember your times at the Glade and you feel a knot growing on your throat, eyes watering. You remembered Chuck, Winston and Alby. Newt side eyes you and pulls you close, "I'm okay" you assure him.

"You don't have to be" he throws an arm around your shoulder and kisses the side of your temple. "I know what it feels like," he knew that this was giving you major flashbacks. "They wouldn't want us moping around though, so let's go have some fun" he takes your hand and makes you spin after he pulls away and you giggle, he pulls you close to him again and join the others.

Newt was with the boys while you sat with Harriet, Sonya and Brenda. They knew about your tests, so that was the topic. 

"So? What did they say?" Sonya asks as she leans in. 

"I bet it is what I said. Come on, I can't be the only one who thought about it as soon as she said how she was feeling" Brenda says with her hand extended to you. 

"I don't know if I should tell you" you tease as you grin. "Or just say it at the bonfire...at some point" you say and look back at Newt who gives you a wink, making your cheeks flush. 

"Oh come on, you are gonna make us wait?" Harriet says with a pout. "Please?" Her hand extends and you sigh, pulling out the piece of paper that read the results. You were carrying them around hoping to know when the time would be right. 

The girls gather around Harriet, all of them smiling which only makes you grin wider when their eyes widen and the three look at you in cue. "Oh my God!" Sonya squeals before moving to you and hugging you. 

"Just keep it a secret for a few, I haven't told him yet," you say and she pulls away. 

"Right. Of course. Newt should be the first to know anyway" Sonya says as she pushes her hair back and tries to act normal. "I'm so happy for you guys! It's like everything starts getting normal around here."

"Life wise anyway" Brenda says as she looks at you. "How do you plan on telling him?"

"I'm not sure…" you admit. "but I have to do it soon. Gally is going to bring his moonshine any minute now and I can't find an excuse to neglect it" you point out and just in cue Gally walks to the clearing. 

"Leave that up to me" Brenda says as she stands up and pats your shoulder before walking towards the boy. You eye her curiously and you smile at how nice Gally was around Brenda, not like he wasn't nice with the others, but he smiled and laughed quite often. Brenda puts her hand on his shoulder and you look at Sonya and Harriet. 

"We are as clueless as you are" Harriet says and you laugh. 

Time goes by and you are all eating and laughing. The groups have gotten together and now you were all closer to the bonfire. Gally was around handing over his moonshine and Brenda helped. After everyone had their drink, Brenda spoke, "I know we have done our own bonfires before," she begins, "but this one is different for some of us. To some this is a reminder of how we bonded" she looks at you and you look at Newt who smiles. "For others, it's a reminder that no matter what, we have fun with the people closest to us, our new family" she raises her glass. "For our family" she says and her eyes widen at you and you shake your head before you feel Sonya's hand shoving you slightly, so you stand, holding your own moonshine.

"For our family," your knees feel like giving up on you from how nervous you felt. "For the one that we found..." you trail off. Your heart was beating wildly against your chest, hearing the thuds in your ear. "And for the ones on the way" you say and place a hand on your stomach, your eyes glued to Newt whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then, there was silence for a few seconds.  

"No way!" Frypan is the first to get it, a huge smile on his lips, Minho eyes him like if he was crazy. 

"Am I missing something here? Secret conversation?" You eye the girls and they are laughing at how clueless the boys were after Minho's words.

"Dude, come on! Y/N is going to have a baby!" Frypan pushes Minho before his smile fades for a moment and looks at you. "At least that's what I took as a hint…?" 

You laugh nervously and you eye Newt whose mind seems to be lost in the maze, everyone is looking at you waiting for the confirmation. "Newt, we…" your words feel jumbled up, "You are going to be a dad" you say and everyone starts cheering around. Newt's eyes go wide open as he processes the information, everyone is patting his back and congratulating him but he was motionless. They come to you as well, and even if you are smiling and saying thanks, your eyes were glued to your boyfriend. 

Everyone started to drink and cheer, except Newt who was looking down at his drink, your mood was slowly dropping, but you found some courage to walk to him after a few minutes. "You alright?" You ask as you sit next to him against a log. 

Your voice breaks him out of his trance and he looks at you before nodding his head, "Yeah, just... wrapping my head around what you just said…"

"I know it's a lot to get around with...I still don't believe it…" you say. 

"I should be more excited...and I am, trust me...but I can't help but think…"

"Newt, I know we never-"

"It's not that" he shakes his head and looks at you. "Not the slightest. I might not have said it, but after everything started to settle down, I started to think about us...our future" he says and takes your hand in his. "I thought so many things and you were always there, but…"

"But?" You were expecting the worst. 

"Y/N, I don't have anything to offer to you, or the baby," you frown as you watch him play with your fingers. "Not now, anyway. This place is being built from scraps.."

"Newt, I don't know what you mean by that…" your free hand goes up to his hair, running your fingers through it. 

 "We have a home now, but... We are still getting used to this place, we don't have all the supplies, the equipment…"

"We do this as it goes, like Thomas does" you say to make him smile, which he chuckles at.

"I know" he continues to play with your fingers avoiding your gaze. You could tell he wasn’t at all convinced, so you tighten your fingers around his. 

"Hey," you call. "Talk to me…" You try to meet his gaze, but it was dropped to your fingers. 

"I-" he pauses. "I am happy, I don't want you to think I am not" he finally meets your eyes. "Having everything with you...Just makes this place way better" he smiles. "And having a little girl just like you" he cups your face with one hand and kisses your lips. "Who else can say they survived what we have and have a family" he says playfully and you grin. "But bringing our baby to this...place, this world…" he confesses, his fingers running nervously on his lips. 

"Newt, I know…" you assure him. 

"I don't want them to go through what we did, Y/N…" he admits. "I don't want them to live in a world where they could be chased for being healthy, or feel cursed because they are not immune to the Flare like I was."

"I'm just as scared and I will work on a cure now more than ever...but we can't start worrying like this…" you take his hand and place it on your stomach. "We will figure it out like we always do, together" he is looking at your stomach, his concerned features softening. 

You can see his body relaxing, his thumb moving soothingly on its place on your stomach. "There is a little boy or girl growing right there and it's ours…" 

"I know you'll do anything for them…" you assure him. You felt like Newt had to be reassured, and you could understand where he came from. He has overcome so much to get where he is now, from the dark places of his mind to what was now his new life. He was doubting himself, to not being able to provide your baby with the best, but what was that here in the Safe Haven? The simplest thing you had them already. You were all healthy, you had a home, food, friends...You still had time to get used to the idea and get adjusted at the thought that soon it was going to be more than just the two of you. 

The Safe Haven has provided you with everything you needed for a basic life, and every now and then as you went to the remains of the city you tried to bring something that would help. Jorge and Brenda were working with technology along with some of the other Gladers from other groups. It was true, this place was being brought up by remains of what once was the Last City, but it was getting close to what you once imagined it would turn to. 

"I love you, princess…" he pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the type he holds his breath and let's go of it softly through his nostrils, making it last. "I'm sorry for not acting like you probably wanted me to…"

"I get it. It's a lot to take in. I feel the same way" you admit. "I was so scared of what you would say" you pause. "But we have gone through so many things together that I don't think a baby will be the exception" you voice. 

"It scares me to death to be quite honest" he says with a smirk. "I'm trying my best to be optimistic here, I am" he paused. "I'm happy to start a family with you, but just the thought of what could happen… This place is not ready for a baby…"

"I know...but we have time. We will know…" he is staring at you lovingly, smiling. 

"Congratulations!" Thomas joins you with Frypan, sitting right besides you. 

"Took you long enough" Minho says as he steps in. 

In the deepest part of your head, you were somewhat disappointed that the boys seemed to be more excited about it then Newt. Yes, the blonde was scared of the what ifs and the possibilities and so were you, yet something told you that he wasn't very wrapped around the idea of it and his mind was only repeating the bad scenarios. 

"Shut up, Minho" Newt says, but the boy only grins. 

"I am going to have a little helping hand in the kitchen in a few months" Fry says. 

"I could use the help patrolling" Thomas and Vince have established a guard in the island. Not like much happened, you knew everyone and they all went by the rules set, but it gave you the sense of feeling that if anything were to happen, you'd be ready. 

"You are all doing bloody plans without the baby even being born" Newt says. 

"Don't look at me I haven't said anything," Minho says. "It'd be nice if it has Y/N's genes though. No offense."

"Well that baby wasn't done just by me, Minho, so be ready" you say playfully. 

"I don't need to know the whole thing so if you can skip the lesson" Minho says. 

"Newt, you alright?" Thomas calls out and you look behind you at your boyfriend. 

"Yeah, just, thinking…" you frown. "Just give me some time, that's all" he admits and smiles, placing his hand on your belly and looms up at you, something told you he will grow to the idea of it soon. 

"So Y/N, can't drink with us now, so let's drink for her" Minho raises his cup and Fry cheers, shoving Newt playfully. 

"To our baby, I guess" he says with a shrug. 

"Our?" Minho questions. 

"Not ours you slinthead" Newt reaches to try to smack the back of Minho's head playfully. "Ours" he looks down at you and you smile softly. 

"It's the baby from our Glade anyway" Thomas says. "I'm happy for the two of you" he gives your arm a soft squeeze and you nod your head. 

"So, when is it too soon to start thinking of names?" Fry asks and the boys look at you. 

"How the hell should I bloody know?" Newt asks after sipping on his cup making the boys chuckle. 

Thomas eyes you as the guys talk to each other, and his eyebrows furrow in question. You shake your head and do a small wave with your hand to tell him that you will talk to him later. If someone could help you understand what was going through Newt's mind was Thomas, or Minho, but mostly Thomas. Newt seems to trust him more for a few things. 

Now it was a matter to wait and see how things went. At least it was out there that you were expecting, and Newt knew. Thing now was, how everything was going to start working after these news… 

[chibinekochan]

Obey me! They become exchange students in the human realm

Okay there is a lot of talk about how the Mc could stay in the devildom but I think it would be interesting if they would go with Mc back to the human world. 

They would really get to know the human lifestyle and be alone with the Mc so it would make for a pretty good scenario. Regardless of what the future will bring, it's interesting to speculate about.

Lucifer 

He would accept the order to go with pleasure, but he will definitely worry about his brothers. 

There is a high chance that they will freeze hell while he is gone. 

You will often find him calling them and Diavolo to make sure that everything is alright. 

At least he can use a gate to get to them in the worst case. 

Lucifer has issues getting used to not using his demon aura and to the general weakness of humans. 

He has no issues getting along with anyone, especially your family. 

Lucifer is good at getting on everyone's favorite list. 

He is keen on seeming as perfect as he can be in front of everyone. 

I mean he definitely has the end goal of wooing you completely and having your family approve will help with that. 

Lucifer has some issues to get used to technology in the human world, but he will eventually adjust. 

Every weekend you will be back in hell with him to make sure that everyone is still alive. 

Leviathan 

He is freaking out. 

I mean, he can't just bring all of his stuff, right? 

And he will have to go to school. 

Being with you helps, but Levi is still upset. 

He will be pretty grumpy for a while. 

You have to cheer him up with going to places that were featured in anime, buy him Manga, show him human anime that he has never seen. 

That helps and he makes weep friends over time. 

Levi is pretty social awkward, but he is okay as long as he has you as his best friend at his side. 

At some point he even stops complaining about wanting his stuff back, since his room on earth is filled with new stuff. 

Levi enjoys the human culture and the food that he has seen before. 

He is not too big on winning your friends and family over, it's more important to him to win you over. 

He will only connect to them if they love anime or somehow remind him of some character. 

Mammon

He has already spent time in the human world and being alone with you, or at least without his brothers, is a big bonus for him. 

Mammon will be more relaxed being away from the other demons. 

You on the other hand will be more busy to keep an eye on him and his schemes. 

You basically have a direct line to Lucifer, who has to come a few times to get Mammon out of issues. 

Most of the time it goes surprisingly well. 

It's enough to tell him that it’s  a bad idea or you can order him in worst case scenario.

Mammon really tries to be a good boy for you and so he is, most of the time. 

He gets along with everyone pretty well, he cranks up his charm all the way especially with everyone that is close to you. 

Mammon enjoys the human worlds lot and only rarely misses his brothers but would never admit that. 

Satan

He is very pleased and looks very much forward to this. 

Satan can't bring all his books but that's fine, since he was banned from bringing magical books anyways. 

He looks forward to the experience and the time with you, being away from Lucifer is also pretty great. 

Satan will enjoy all the books he can. 

Spending time in the library and various bookstores is a must for him. 

He also enjoys some dramas on TV. 

His favorite thing about the human world are the animals. 

He is so amazed when you bring him to a zoo. 

Satan will definitely volunteer at an animal shelter and if you got pets he will adopt them all. 

He likes how quiet everything is compared to his home in the demon world. 

Satan also really enjoys the time has with you alone and uninterrupted. 

His biggest issue is his anger, controlling that will become his biggest hurdle. 

Satan will do his best, maybe you can help him find some hobby to help with his anger. 

Satan will also work pretty hard to keep his snark down with people that are close to you. 

He wants to impress everyone around you. 

Asmodeus

He was a few times in the human world before but living there is a different story. 

Asmo is looking forward to the experience. 

There are of course some things that he has to get used to. 

Humans are generally less open to his sexual advances then Demons. 

Not that this is a big issue, Asmo is willing to learn and experiment. 

He will definitely want to try whatever humans have labeled as pleasurable. 

Asmo really enjoys getting to know things like the beach. 

And just wait until he finds out about FKK aka pleases were ppl run around naked. 

He has a lot of fun in the human world, but sometimes you need to stop him from doing something naughty in public. 

Asmo enjoys the freedom to it's full extant. 

He will often party and drag you along with him. 

Asmo will not change to impress anyone, he will flirt with everyone instead. 

Belphegor

He is pretty unhappy about being chosen again. 

It changes when he can live with you. 

He isn't too keen on going to the human world but being with you is a pretty sweet deal. 

Belphie has a hard time getting used to the human world after all this time. 

There are many painful memories here for him. 

You help him by making new nice memories. 

You make him nice food, show him an ice-cream place, whatever your favorite spots are. 

It helps him to have some good experiences. 

He misses Beelzebub, so there will be many visits to the demon realm. 

One he settles in with being in the human world it's not that bad. 

At least his brothers aren't interrupting your time together all the time. 

He also grows to like all the sleeping helpers the humans invented. 

He slowly remembers that there are many good things in the human realm. 

Belphie really appreciates all your support as well and does his best to get along with everyone. 

Sometimes he complains and sometimes he wishes to pull a prank on someone annoying but lucky for you, he is pretty lazy, and he doesn't want to upset you either. 

He tries to get along with the people close to you but it's a hard process, give him time.

Beelzebub 

Surprisingly he has the biggest issues with this. 

There is of course his wish to not leave Belphie alone and the other issue is his huge appetite. 

He needs so much food that Lucifer had to supply you with a magical fridge. 

The poor guy almost starved to death, since the stores in your area had all closed at night. 

He is glad to spend more time with you but he is pretty home sick too. 

He will often call Belphie and his other brothers. 

You will go to the demon realm whenever it goes. 

There will be a permanent portal in his room. 

You find Belphie more than once in Beels room. 

Not that you mind but honestly Lucifer should just allow both of them to stay. 

Beelzebub gets naturally along with everyone, and gets adopted by everyone he meets. 

He definitely has his own Fan club somewhere. 

Also, local food stores and restaurants love or hate him there is no in-between.

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